The Addiction: The Diary Obsession, #5

By S.M. Pratt

Two women. One man. Zero limits.

My name's Charlie, and I have a problem: I'm obsessed with two talented, smart, and sexy women. Armed with their diaries, I'll do everything I can to achieve my goal: become their man.

The Diary Obsession is an episodic novel that records my tales of obsession with Sophia and Virginia, presented in novella-length installments.

Episode 5 (The Addiction) takes place in London where JuanMa, my ladies' friend-with-benefits, performs live on stage. Sophia and Virginia will partake in his new rock star lifestyle, but will it prove too much for them or their new and fragile relationship?

If you like your LGBTQ+ romance with a good serving of mystery, action, and sizzling heat, then you'll love this episodic novel about me and my obsession with two gorgeous women.

Get your copy today and take a peek between the sheets. (I won't tell if you won't.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Creative Communication Solutions Ltd.
• Release date: Feb 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781988639451

Book preview

PART ONE

SOPHIA'S TRANSLATED DIARY

7:45 P.M.

After Vee returned to Spain, a void filled my chest. Our night together at the maison close hadn’t gone as planned, but somehow our bond had become stronger. Or so I hoped.

Why hasn’t she called me yet?

Unable to answer that, I distracted myself with other tasks, like ensuring the winners of the auction would receive the prizes they’d won and arranging for the player piano to be collected and returned to the rental place. Mr. Richard had his staff rearrange the furniture and return the salon to its former layout and duties.

Life was back to normal in the maison close.

I was calling the kitchen to order myself dinner when my phone chimed with a text message from Vee.

Miss you already.

I let out a long breath and smiled.

Miss you too.

I thought about asking to see her again, but past experiences of making myself appear too needy prevented me from hitting send.

I deleted my message.

Three little dots flashed on my screen, indicating she was typing. 

But nothing showed up. Forcing my screen to refresh didn’t make any message magically appear.

Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t needy after all. It’s possible she also felt the same eagerness to pry.

Closing my eyes for a second, I gathered enough courage to start typing.

When can we see each other again?

There it was.

Message sent.

The screen showed she was typing. Those three little dots could go one way or the other.

Don’t write We just saw each other. Don’t write We just saw each—

I wanted to ask the same question.

Can you take time off this week?

I can’t.

I have to deliver prizes, send money to charity, write reports...

Those things can’t wait.

---

Too bad.

What did you have in mind?

London.

Holiday or work?

Bit of both.

Meeting a gallery rep, but you could join me.

Add pleasure to my business trip.

How long will you stay?

Tuesday to Thursday for work, but I am planning to stay and do fun things after that.

I could try to take the weekend off.

Join me!

Let me check with Nicholas.

Make sure I’m not forgetting anything.

I’ll confirm tomorrow.

Hope you can make it.

I already know what I want to do to you...

Gotta go.

A figurative fire had been lit underneath me. I was going to finalize all of those admin tasks as fast as I could. No way would I miss an opportunity to see my Vee this weekend!

And I loved London. We could do so many things together there. Well, assuming we bothered to leave her hotel room in the first place...

9:20 P.M.

Over the next few days, after Nicholas confirmed the exact deadlines for all of my to-do items, I (temporarily) became a workaholic. 

I structured my days so the tasks that required contacting people were completed during regular business hours, while the (dry and dull) reports were written at night.

Aided by the looming and annoying buzz of a constant timer, I pushed on through the boring tasks, rewarding myself with five minutes of photo-browsing on my phone during breaks.

Nothing beat staring at my gorgeous Vee to get me excited. I needed to finish my report in order to see her again. She was the best extrinsic motivator I could think of.

But the timer went off again too soon.

Break over.

Over the soundtrack of couples going at it next door, I copied and pasted the next bit of broken down financial data into the report. Knowing I’d have my own sexual gratification over the weekend, I tried my best to ignore the nearby moans and groans.

I constantly reminded myself that there was no point getting upset over the requirement to write up this stupid report in the first place. Nicholas had been clear about that. The reports were required in case we ever got audited. The business made (and donated) a lot of money. All of it had to be documented. The details about actual services provided in exchange for that income were altered, of course. But I had his official list of line items to use so everything looked kosher. We needed to make it appear as though the official side of the business was operated like a hotel.

Once the shared wall between me and the guest paying for the next room started shaking—the rhythm making it obvious someone was getting slammed right there and then—I could no longer concentrate.

I called the bar and requested a bottle of wine to be brought to my room. I looked for my noise-canceling headphones next but opted to relocate to the secret room instead. 

A few minutes later, a chilled and uncorked bottle of Pinot Gris in one hand and my laptop and phone in the other, I headed down the secret hallway to my lair.

Leaving the monitors off (my ongoing research on male-male activity could wait), I poured myself a glass and placed the bottle in the fridge before making myself comfortable on the bed. Those decorative pillows did serve a purpose now that I had them stacked behind my back.

Maybe that’s why Gabriella had them in the first place. Or perhaps she used them to help with various positions, but my mind didn’t want to go there and imagine that.

I was just about to resume typing when I realized I had yet to book my flight.

At the speed at which I blazed through the report, I would most definitely be done before the weekend, so there was no point waiting. I’d make travel arrangements my reward to enjoy during the next break.

I continued copying and pasting numbers while referring to the official line items. The whole exercise was reminiscent of high school reports, but the outcome wouldn’t be a pass or fail grade. Consequences could be grave. I’d either continue running the business under its hotel front or go to jail.

Nicholas had agreed to go through this first report for me, but he made it clear that would be the only time. It used to be Gabriella’s duty, so it was now mine. And I couldn’t outsource that to anyone else. That would be begging to get caught and sent to jail.

My phone buzzed with the alarm. I sighed. Finally!

I stopped the timer, knowing fair well that booking my flight would take longer than five minutes.

First, I had to check with Vee.

I checked the time and figured it was too late for business meetings, but she’d most definitely still be up, especially with the one-hour time difference. Since she was in London already, I wouldn’t risk interrupting one of her love fests with JuanMa... That thought brought a smile to my lips.

I dialed her number, and she picked up on the second ring.

Hi, it’s me, I said.

The ringtone told me as much. So can you join me in London?

I’m pretty confident I’ll finish everything before Friday. When should I arrive?

Anytime. The earlier, the better.

I opened a new tab on my computer and checked Skyscanner for my options. Catching the midday budget fare seemed unlikely. I’d have to be done with my report first thing in the morning. It was best to leave myself a tiny bit more time.

I think I’ll get the flight that arrives around 6 p.m. on Friday. Would that work?

Friday would be perfect! And I may even have a surprise for you.

A surprise?

I don’t want to ruin it, but I know you’ll love it.

Give me a hint.

Silence filled the air, then she said, Sexy.

Lingerie?

No, and I’m not saying anything else. But since you mentioned it, please pack some of your sexy lingerie. I can’t wait to see you. All of you.

Same here. I miss you. I’ll go ahead and book my flight now. Can you text me the name and address of your hotel?

Of course.

Gotta go. Good night. Love you.

Love you, too.

6:20 P.M.

A flight, a train, and now a cab. 

Although my rides in London’s cool-looking cabs were too numerous to count, never had one been so exciting before.

Only a few miles and less than an hour separated me from my Vee. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face, even though the traffic was crawling. She’d soon be in my arms, pressed against me, our bodies and souls merging as