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“What did I miss?” Zara asks.
My face must be the color of a ripe tomato as I struggle to compose a coherent answer. Something has shifted between Will and me, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with it. I just know that my whole body is catching fire now and that I want him more than anything else in existence.
“We were just talking about Asclepius,” Will says, casually resuming his breakfast.
I wonder if he’s usually this restrained and cool, or if he’s just trying to maintain a relaxed demeanor in front of Zara. My throat’s burning, and arousal plays tricks with my senses as the ghost of his touch still lingers on my earlobe.
Yeah, I definitely have a serious Will Bucklow problem, and I’ve got a feeling that he’s the only one who can resolve it.
CHAPTER13
WILL
As the days go by in Clearlake, I see another side of Olivia blossoming—a side she probably isn’t even aware of. There’s beauty in her soul, the kind of beauty that gets my pulse racing whenever she greets me with a smile and tells me she’s handled another fix in the Asclepius code. It took a lot of courage for me to explain my own attachment to her project, but I felt like she needed that from me after that accidental smack in the pool.
Her heart is good and full of wonder. Her body is like an unspoken invitation for me, yet I dare not touch her even as my fingertips ache for it. She’s been wearing tighter clothes lately. Soft fabric dresses that hug her hourglass figure in all the right places. Her choice of jewelry is minimal, and she’s been catching a lot of that good morning sun lately. Her skin is catching a caramel shade that makes me all the more interested in tasting her.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Olivia has no idea as to the effect she can have on a man. On me, in particular. There isn’t a night that I don’t fall asleep wondering about her, wishing I could just stroll into her suite and take her in my arms and kiss her until we melt into each other. Meanwhile, my message inbox is full. Stacy wonders about her earrings. I haven’t answered any of those texts. I’m not interested. Olivia has my full attention.
It's hard to be around her. Every day that goes by, we seem to be getting closer and more comfortable around each other. I should be happy about that, but as Zara loves to remind me, my stock value depends on me remaining unattached. I can’t do anything to jeopardize it.
My only option is to start something secret and strictly casual. Assuming, of course, that Olivia would be into it. Into me.
I think she is. I see the fleeting glances. The way she licks her lips when she looks at mine. Her instincts scream for me even when she’s trying to suppress how she truly feels. All I want to do is take her in my bed and lose myself inside her. I wonder often what that would be like. Her skin is so soft, her flesh firm and smooth. Her smile drives me wild.
And now she walks into my suite, beaming like the midday sun even though it’s past midnight and we should both be asleep. But Olivia has been working harder than ever, toiling away at her code as she prepares another demo for the executive board. By the stars, she’s only wearing a supersized tee and a pair of denim hot pants—I’m supposed to focus with that?!
“I think I nailed it!” she cries as she brings the laptop over to my table by the window. She knows I’m usually here at this hour, nursing a glass of whiskey and checking my phone’s email app. “That feature bug that’s been crashing the whole thing. Look here,” she says, showing me the screen.
My eyes hurt as I quickly scan the home page of the Asclepius application and immediately recognize some of the changes that she’s been implementing, but it’s hard for me to keep looking at the screen when she’s so goddamn close to me. Her flowery fragrance fills my nostrils and dissolves into my soul. I’m getting hard just being inches away from her full, inviting lips.
“Well done,” I manage, then clear my throat because I’m pretty sure I sound frickin’ horny. “Great job, Olivia. Show me the feature again, then.”
She nods excitedly and goes through some of the options. “See? This is here now, and I moved the other two troublemakers farther down in the menu. A UX buddy of mine had a look and said it was better this way because it’s more intuitive,” Olivia says, though I’m not really listening.
I’ll have another look tomorrow; right now I’m too busy admiring the delicate line of her jaw as she speaks about the bug and how she fixed it without the help of any of my engineers. My warrior queen can do pretty much anything she sets her mind to. I guess that’s a turn-on, too.
Eventually, she realizes that I’m not saying anything. I suppose she’s expecting more feedback from me, but I’m reduced to a hard and heated mess as she slowly turns her head to look at me.
“Is something wrong?” she mumbles, concern darkening her chocolate gaze.
“It’s perfect, actually,” I reply, my eyes following the Cupid’s bow of her lips. “Absolutely perfect.”
I almost lean in to kiss her when she pulls back, clutching her laptop tightly. “Then I can go back and power through the rest of the code for this feature.”
“Make sure you get some sleep, too,” I remind her, wondering if she withdrew on purpose or by mistake. I was about to do something crazy, granted, but I know she’s not immune to me, either. Then again, when Olivia is in work mode, she’s quite hard to distract. And given her brilliance, it would’ve been an actual shame. How weird and funny this whole thing is to me, and how enticed I am to be a part of it. “I don’t want you groggy during the day.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. See you at breakfast!”
“I’d also like to see you at dinner tomorrow night,” I say, worried she’ll slip through my fingers again. My reason tells me I’m crazy, that I shouldn’t be doing this, but the rest of me just powers through. I need this. “Just you and me.”
Olivia stares at me for a moment, frozen in the wide-open doorway. I can almost hear her mind processing what I just asked. She blinks, ever so slowly, and I have half a mind to get up and kiss her right now, but those big doe eyes go low on the floor and I fear I might scare her away.
“There’s no wrong answer,” I tell her, “but I would like for us to be alone and to just eat a nice meal. Together.”
“Oh… okay. Sure. Good night,” she chirps and rushes out, light on her feet and hair bouncing reddish-golden down her back.
Damn, that was short but exquisite. I smile, imagining the mental mathematics she must be doing right about now. She followed her gut when she said yes, and her brain is about to do some severe catching up. It’s too late, though. We’re having dinner tomorrow night.
