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“Your loss,” she slurs.
“You can sleep here tonight. If you still feel the same in the morning, we’ll talk,” I tell her as I carry her through the house, quickly making my way up the wide staircase to the second floor and into my bedroom.
“I don’t want to sleep here,” she murmurs, but her eyes are closing.
“Tough! This conversation isn’t finished, but you need to be sober first.”
I lay her down and she looks as if she’s struggling to open her eyes. Within a minute, she gives up the battle and I groan when I realize she’s already passed out. Even if I’d taken her up on her offer, she wouldn’t have lasted long enough for us to make love. And I’m not the type to resort to the human equivalent of a blow-up doll.
After pacing my room for several passes, I move over to her and remove her shoes and trousers. The sight of her barely-there silk panties sends a new surge of pain through my body. She needs water and I need a break from looking at her to give myself time to get my libido under control.
I leave the room, practically limping from the bulge in my pants. When I return, she hasn’t budged an inch. I wake her long enough to make her drink the glass of water, then she passes out again. Sleeping isn’t going to be nearly as easy for me.
Why do I have to torture myself further? Obviously because I can’t help it. I lie on top of the covers — climbing in beneath them with her half-bare body would prove fatal. When I put my arms around her, she snuggles against me. As I hold her, I remind myself this is a basic instinct, that she could be any woman and I’d react the same way. But as my body pulses and my heart thuds, I wonder if maybe, just maybe, it’s onlythiswoman I want.
That certainly can’t be true. Because if it is, I’m surely damned.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Olivia
Light’s creeping through the gap in the curtain when my brain starts to reach daytime speed. I’m fighting to remember the night before. Where am I? How did the night end? How did I make it to bed? My body stills. Feeling a foreign weight on my stomach, I look down and see a man’s arm. I know whose arm it is. I glance over and look directly into Tyler’s eyes. Damn, this is a powerful way to wake up.
“Good morning, Olivia.” This is all he says, yet his words travel through my blood straight to my core. Desire, pure and strong, runs through me. And it’s hot and heavy.
“Do you have nothing to say?” he asks, turning us so we’re face to face, his arm still around me.
“Where are we?” I croak.
“In my bed,” he replies. The pulsing of my heart speeds up.
“Why am I in your bed?” I don’t so much as move a pinky finger.
“Because you got drunk, threw yourself at me, then passed out.” All the while he speaks, he’s caressing my back.
“I see.” I close my eyes and the night before flashes through my mind, making me cringe as I remember every little detail, making me wish I could claim ignorance. I threw myself at this man, dammit.
“Have you changed your mind, Olivia?” he asks, pushing my tousled hair away from my eyes. I feel exposed, excited, and unsure of what to do next.
“You won’t quit pursuing me until we have sex?” I can’t keep fighting this, not when I hunger for this man. He freezes beside me, and his hand stops running through my hair.
“I’m not a rapist, Olivia.” The barely leashed fury in his voice tells me to proceed with caution, though I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of myself.
“I know,” I say. “But you definitely go after what you want.”
“Yes, I do. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“And you’ve decided you want me, so there’s no stopping you.” If I’m honest with myself, I don’t want him to stop. Lying in his arms doesn’t feel unpleasant. Can I hate him and desire him at the same time? I think I can. Nope, I know I can. I make a decision.
“Well, Tyler, what are you waiting for?”
He doesn’t know this won’t be our first time. I’m more than aware of this fact. Will he remember when he sinks into my body? I don’t think he will. Will this crush me more than I’ve already been crushed? It might. His movements stop as he looks in my eyes.
“Is this what you really want, Olivia. I don’t require sacrifices.”
He presses against me, letting me feel his arousal. Heat surges through me, cementing my choice. I don’t know this new Tyler, don’t really know what kind of man he is, but I know if I don’t make love to him again, I’ll regret it to the end of my days.
He was my first childhood crush, my first best friend. He’s failed me in so many ways, and I have no doubt he’ll fail me again. But why not do what I’ve wanted to do the whole time even if I wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge this until now?
