I crawled into bed, Pete curling up at my feet with a contented sigh.
My last coherent thought before sleep claimed me was of stormy gray eyes and an elusive, disarming smile.Crap.
CHAPTER TEN
CARTER
I couldn't sleep.
Olivia's laugh echoed in my head.I tossed and turned, replaying every moment from Sister's Bar and Grill.The warmth of her thigh against mine.The way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.The delicate vanilla scent of her perfume.
Fuck.
By 4 a.m., I gave up and dragged myself to my home gym.I pummeled the punching bag until my knuckles ached.But even as sweat dripped down my back and my muscles burned, I couldn't get her out of my head.I slammed the heel of my hand against my temple a few times in rapid succession, hoping to beat the thoughts of her out.But Olivia Friedman had wormed her way in, and there she remained.
Whatever this was, I needed to purge it from my system.My thoughts turned darker, more primal.I imagined her lying beneath me, her eyes glazed with desire as I thrust into her.The image was so vivid that my cock strained against my shorts, demanding release.
I groaned and pushed them down.My heart pounded as I gripped myself tightly, imagining her soft skin against mine.I closed my eyes and lost myself in the fantasy.Each stroke brought me closer to the edge, the tension building in my balls.Olivia's moans filled my ears as I pounded into her, our bodies entwined in a frenzy of passion.
I slammed my hips up, unleashing a torrent of cum all over my stomach.My body shuddered with pleasure as I rode the waves of my orgasm.The sensation was intense, a release of the pent-up tension and desire that had been building inside me for days.
Fuck, I needed that.
As I caught my breath, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to make that fantasy a reality.
* * *
I showered and dressed,my movements mechanical as I prepared for the day ahead.Twenty minutes later, I settled at my desk, determined to focus on work.The community development project demanded my full attention.Lives depended on getting this right.I had no business mooning over my assistant like some lovesick puppy.
But as the minutes dragged by, I found my gaze drawn inexorably to the clock.8:45 a.m.Olivia would arrive soon.
I rubbed the back of my neck, tension coiling beneath my skin.What the hell was wrong with me?I'd built my reputation on laser focus and unwavering dedication.And now I was getting distracted by a pair of warm hazel eyes and a sunshine smile.
The memory hit me out of nowhere, transporting me back to a conversation with my father after my mother's funeral.
“Son”—Dad's voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot from grief and whiskey—”I need you to listen to me.”
I nodded, my own pain a raw, gaping wound in my chest.
“Don't ever let yourself get too attached, son.”His grip on my shoulder was painful, his calloused fingers digging in like he wanted to physically imprint his words on my skin.“People will fuck you over six ways to Sunday.They'll leave, they'll die, they'll rip your goddamn heart out and stomp on it for good measure.Only way to survive in this world is to keep everyone at arm's length.”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears.“But Dad, what about?—”
“No buts.”He cut me offwith a sharp shake of his head.“You want to end up like me?A broken-down old bastard with nothing but regrets and a bottle to keep him warm at night?Then you listen good.Keep your guard up.Push 'em away before they can get close enough to hurt you.It's the only way to keep breathing in this fucked up world.”
The ping of an incoming email banished the memory.I blinked, trying to shake off the lingering echoes of my father's warning.
The clock read 9:02 a.m.Where the hell was Olivia?
As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard the click of the back door opening.This was followed by the familiar tap of her heels on hardwood.
“Morning, Carter!”Her voice was full of its usual cheerfulness.“Sorry I'm a couple minutes late.There was an accident on 3rd Street.”
I looked up, my breath catching in my throat.Olivia stood in the doorway, a vision in a deep purple wrap dress that caressed her curves.Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, and a hint of color stained her cheeks.
“No problem,” I managed, my voice rougher than I intended.“Traffic's been hell lately with all the construction.”
Olivia nodded, setting her bag down at her desk.“Tell me about it.I swear, the seasons in Ohio are”—she began ticking them off on her fingers—”almost winter, winter, still winter, and construction.”
