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“Get out of my way, so I can get where I’m going.” I brush past him and walk out of the elevator that’s now at floor two.
He reaches a hand toward me and grabs hold of my shoulder. “It’s okay to care about her, Luc.”
I don’t turn back. I can’t, because I don’t agree. Even if that doesn’t change my feelings toward Olivia, I know it’s wrong of me to care for her. To have brought her into this world that she was blissfully unaware of just weeks ago, and now, she has no idea just how much her life is at risk.
Jaxon releases me, and the elevator closes. Once I’m alone, I take a deep inhale and steel my expression for greeting Olivia. She doesn’t need bad news the moment I see her. After dinner will be soon enough.
My pace quickly takes me to the garden area I had revived specifically for her. Just a week ago, this place was filled with broken pots, dead plants, and weeds. After seeing how much she loved flowers and how respectful she was not to make a mess in the apartment, I knew she needed somewhere she didn’t have to worry about such things and would also bring her a slice of comfort.
Something I know I’m not entirely capable of.
I can protect her, and I can fuck her unlike anyone else ever will, but that doesn’t mean I’m good for her. That she won’t get hurt again because of me.
My palm presses against the door. Not yet. I can’t lose focus yet.
With another deep breath, I enter the garden and see Olivia sitting in front of the easel, her back to me.
In front of her is the monstrous brick wall that keeps intruders out, but above her is a stunning sunset, filled with an array of orange, purple, and red colors that she has no issues capturing on the canvas before her.
Quietly, I move closer to her, observing the fluid brush strokes and as she carefully chooses the next hue to place on the art.
Next to her are several other paintings that she’s already completed, all varying versions of the flowers within this very garden.
My eyes make their way back to my raven who still has no idea I’m here. Her hair is up in a messy bun. She’s wearing one of my white t-shirts and jean shorts that are frayed at the ends. Her feet are bare, and she hums quietly, completely lost in her own little world.
Fuck.
Seeing her this way twists my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not, but I know I can’t keep my hands to myself a moment longer.
My fingers brush over her heated skin from being out in the sun all afternoon, but I obviously didn’t think my actions through, because she swings a fist back, still holding the paintbrush, and punches me in the jaw while also getting maroon paint all over my suit.
Apparently, Jaxon wasn’t wrong. Olivia has been practicing.
I rub the sore spot on my face and shake my head at her. She’s frozen in place, her mouth open in surprise and eyes wide, but that only lasts for a moment before she starts laughing. She reaches out, swiping her thumb over my cheek. “If you’re going to have paint on you, the blending should at least be right.”
The smirk on her face has me forgetting every bad thing that’s happened today. Once again, she’s enthralled me by not being afraid of my wrath. Little does she know that by doing so, it also takes away my rage.
I steal the brush from her hand, smearing the same color across her cheek. “Seems only fair for you to match.”
Her brows raise. “Only fair, huh?” She slides her hand down the front of my suit. “Only fair should include reminding you that it’s okay to have a little chaos in your life.”
I have too much of that and don’t need anymore, but a mess in the form of this woman isn’t something I’m going to shy away from.
My hands reach for the button of her shorts and pop them open. “How about a little body painting?”
Her cheeks flush and the excitement in her eyes is undeniable. “I think that’s probably my favorite fantasy ever.”
I lean closer, pressing my lips to her ear and whisper, “Then, allow me to make it come true.”
Reaching behind her, I dip my fingers into the nearest colors of purple and blue before bringing my hand back. With my other hand, I yank the shirt from her body before slowly gliding my fingertips over the swell of her chest.
“Something like this?” I ask.
Her breathing shutters. “Something like that.”
My touch leaves a trail of mixing colors and moves further south. With a swift tug, her shorts are at her ankles and I’m reaching for more paint. This time, I coat my palms, already knowing where I want to leave my mark.
She stays ever so still as I move around her. With my lips against her neck, I nip at her heated skin and smack my palms over her ass cheeks.
