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She’s also always been the first to break into a spontaneous lecture about anything fun that I wanted to do. While she’s still careful, doesn’t drink, and is intensely focused on her work, she’s been better about the other stuff lately. It’s almost as if that one taste of adventure back in London made her ease up a little and realize that she didn’t have to have a stick up her ass at all times.
And this version of her… I don’t have so much of a problem with it. I even almost feel like I can be myself with her. Open up about shit. It’s confusing as balls since that other part of me keeps reminding me that I can’t stand her, but I’m getting used to not minding her and not being able to tolerate her all at the same time.
There’s definitely one part of me that has grown to really like her, but I’m doing my best to ignore him. My cock has had enough of a say in my life. If it were up to him, he’d be buried in Olivia all day, every day these days. Since that’s not an option, I’m just trying to keep my mind off all the things about her that excite him… like the way she moves when she’s dancing.
I’ve never seen anything that sexy in my life, sweet, innocent Olivia whose body somehow manages to imitate a graceful stripper’s when she really gets going. Obviously, I’ve never seen her with a pole, but she doesn’t need one in order to get a rise out of me.
As I watch her climb into the bus with James, my jaw tightens with the need to yank her out of his fucking arms and into mine. It’s the same need that keeps driving me to get her out of a club before I do something while we’re dancing that I can never take back. I just keep wanting to tug her into my arms and slam my lips into hers.
I’ve never even really been into that kind of thing, but the other night when she called memaster, I had half a mind to take her home, strip her naked, and tie her to the bed until I could convince her to submit to me, to let me hold her and kiss her whenever I want to. The ideas I had about how I might persuade her to do just that still keep me up at night.
“Vince?” My sister’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Are you okay? You look really pissed off all of a sudden.”
Because I’ve gone and thought about shit that turns me on way too much for where I am right now and about the last person who’ll ever let me turn those fantasies into any kind of reality.
“I’m fine,” I grind out, forcing myself to calm the hell down and focus on the night ahead. “Something about work just popped into my head. It’s nothing serious. I just forgot to do something, but it’ll be fine if I get it done tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay,” she says easily. “Let’s go. We’re the last ones to get on your haunted bus.”
When I look around, I realize she’s right. While I was glaring, everyone else boarded the tour and is now waiting for us to join them. Jaylinn and I take the seat behind James and Olivia’s, and even though I know, logically, that there is absolutely nothing going on between them, I can’t stop myself from glaring daggers at the back of his head.
Relax, Vince. They’ve always been close. Much closer than you and Olivia have. Besides, it’s Olivia. Even if something is going on between them, it’s got nothing to do with you. It’s not like she’s your girlfriend. Or that you want her to be.
About halfway through the tour, Jaylinn has relaxed and is actually enjoying the experience, and she and James drop into seats with Isabella and Adrian once we board after another stop. Olivia walks over to the same benches the four of us were in before but glances at the empty spot next to me.
“Is that taken?”
I shrug. “Not anymore. You still scared?”
She scoffs. “I was never scared.”
“Yeah right.” I roll my eyes and gesture for her to sit. “Come on, scaredy cat. I’ll protect you.”
“That’s funny. I thought you were going to say I should make myself comfortable close to you so you can be the first to feed me to the monsters.”
I snort as I try to hold back my laughter. “That does sound like something I would say to you. Not tonight, though. The whole point of today is all of us having fun as a group, so if you’re scared, I’ll protect you just so long as you don’t decide to duck out early.”
“My hero.” She bats her eyelashes at me, cupping her hands together and clutching her heart as she takes the seat I offered.
Unable to hold back my laughter this time, I let it spill out as I roll my eyes at her theatrics. “I think I should record you saying that. Then next time you say something mean to me, I can play it back to you.”
The bench we’re on isn’t particularly small, but where she ended up sitting is so close to me that I feel our arms brush together whenever either of us shifts or even inhales. I expect her to move, but when she doesn’t, I don’t either. I have no idea what the fuck is going on here, but when she puts her hand on her thigh, I follow her lead, our lower legs almost pressing together and our pinkie fingers too.
It’s elementary school moves, but I suppose there’s a reason it’s a damn classic for when you’re first figuring out what to do when you like someone. So you just go with whatever lets you touch them, even just a little bit. It’s so far from what I want to be doing with her, but at least it’s sort of touching her, which is better than nothing.
Jesus. So I’m happy with elementary school contact with her? What is wrong with me?A lot, evidently, because I don’t move and neither does she.
In fact, for the rest of the tour, whenever we get on the bus, we sit in exactly the same spots. Maybe pressed together a little closer.
By the time we’re done and pulling back up in front of the college where we started, my cock is aching and I’m wired so tight I might just explode if someone touches me—anywhere. The flush on her cheeks and the way her chest is rising and falling just a little bit faster than usual isn’t helping because I’m pretty sure that if I were to put my hand on her leg and slide it up under her skirt, even her stockings would be soaked.
“Who’s up for that pub crawl game?” I shout, jumping up as soon we come to a stop. Thankfully, the bus is dark and my shirt is long, so no one should notice the fucking tent in my jeans.
“Us,” Emma calls excitedly, and it’s then that I notice that even though I was hoping to spend some time with Maxim today, we’ve hardly had a chance to talk.Fucking Olivia taking up all my mental real estate.
“I’m in too,” James says, and the sentiment is echoed by everyone except Ash and Jaylinn, who opt to head back to the B&B. We’re heading back with them when Olivia suddenly tenses where she’s walking beside me, her eyebrows snapping together as her head starts swinging one way and another.
“What’s up with you?” I ask. We’re bringing up the rear of the group, so no one else notices her oddball behavior.
