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I swallow roughly, forcing the misplaced emotion back down my throat in hopes it dies in my stomach acid.
“Of course.” She tucks my computer under her arm and holds out the key to my room. When I slip the keyring from her finger, she spins on her heels. “Let us know if you need anything.”
After she closes the door behind her, I take in the quaint room, hoping it will serve as a distraction to deter my thoughts.
Like the lobby, the walls are a bright white but are contrasted by the wooden beams that run along the ceiling. Thick, cream curtains hang on both windows on either side of the bed, which is covered by an overstuffed duvet. A black iron headboard and footboard encase the bed, while two vases sit on both nightstands, each with fresh-cut flowers.
I guess with so many growing outside, it’s an easy choice for decorations.
Other than a dresser, which is under a mounted TV, and a lone chair near the bathroom, there isn’t anything else in the room, leaving it simple yet elegant.
A giddy feeling rushes over me as it sinks in that I’m kid-free for the next eighteen hours, and besides a small report, I’m free to do whatever the hell I want.
Anything.
Including things I haven’t been able to really do in fear of having a six-year-old walk in and get traumatized for life.
With a quick flick to lock the door, I drop my bag on the chair and let myself fall backward on the bed, spreading out as the soft comforter nearly engulfs me. The cool fabric sends shivers down my limbs, but the warmth between my legs is ever-present. Like a dull ache that never goes away due to my lack of action and increased love of romance movies, my body yearns to rid itself of the pressure.
It’s only eleven-thirty, so I have time before my mani-pedi, and what better way to start my day than fully relaxed?
Decision made, I quickly strip out of my leggings and tank and settle under the thick blanket.
My pulse thrums in my ears, anticipation winding through me as I let myself do something so brazen. My fingers travel down my throat, over my clavicle, and through the valley of my breasts. The barely-there touch is enough to have me squeezing my eyes shut and my skin tingling.
I imagine a pair of heavy hands replacing my own and finishing what I’ve started—dipping lower over my waist and settling between my thighs. The fingers work through my already-drenched slit, dipping and dragging across my nerves.
My entire body comes alight as the sensation in my core expands, unfurling through the rest of my body like wildfire.
Dipping two fingers through my entrance, I moan around the slight stretch, before curling them, searching for the spot. The one that causes the little white dots to form along the edge of my vision. The one that causes me to shake and grind against my own hand, chasing the fleeting high.
And the second I find it, blue eyes flash in front of me. The same blue eyes I pretend I never think about.
He coaxes me to continue, his soft commands skittering over my skin like little jolts of electricity. “I’m tired of waiting, Olivia. When are you going to stop acting as if this isn’t real?”
A broken moan slips past my lips as I move to my clit, focusing on the budding knot of pleasure. Any time I think of him, I never last. My body already knows what I won’t let my mind admit.
“Olivia. All you have to do is say the word. Say it, and I’m yours. All of this will belong to me.”
As silly as it sounds, the words soak into me, fueling my movements as I let my fantasy play out. His strong arms braced on top of me, his hard features soft with pleasure. Dirty words I can’t even think of without blushing.
I let myself have this moment, even if it’s not real, because in the end, he’s the only thing that ever gets me there. The only thing that pushes me over the edge.
Theo goddamn Beckham.
“The waves came, and so did I. Each lash of the water was like a shot to my core. He continued to lap at my arousal despite the chaos around us, sucking every ounce I had to offer until I was panting and screaming from the overstimulation.”
I chuckle to myself as I click the X on Olivia’s most frequently watched video. Her selection of adult films is very specific. They’re all centered around a romance subplot, and almost every man in the videos is completely enamored with the female.
It’s cute she thinks this is what an obsessed man looks like. That the only qualifications include a decent oral orgasm and pretty words, confessing years of affection.
There’s no substance, nothing deep.
None of the men’s acting is enough to portray exactly what it’s like to be so far gone for a woman that a true visceral need for them develops. An ache embedded so deep in our bodies, it feels as if it’s etched in our bones, soaking into our souls.
I’ve been a patient man. Waiting and watching, taking in the different obstacles and variables that have kept her just out of reach.
But that time is up, and there isn’t a single thing that can stop today from happening exactly how I’ve planned. The plan that’s been in motion for months. And her bringing her laptop is the only sign I needed that she’s ready.
