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“You’re mine now, Olivia.” His words send both a thrill and terror through me. I know this isn’t going to have a happy ending for me — our connection is only temporary.
But why not enjoy it while it lasts? I can worry about the fallout some other day, can’t I? At least he isn’t sending me away this time. We’ve already made progress I might’ve epically failed at revenge, but this is so much better.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Olivia
I sit on Tyler’s deck and shudder as a breeze passes by. It isn’t the coldest afternoon in Seattle, yet it certainly can’t be considered warm. Still, the great view makes up for my discomfort. But I have a larger problem. What in hell am I going to say to Tyler now? He’s been sound asleep since I snuck from his bed, took a shower — a long one, this time — and then wandered outside.
The house is nice, not what I expected him to have. Yes, it’s huge, much larger than a single man needs, but there are touches that make it more inviting, almost warm.
Pictures of him and his brothers along with the older couple they lived with as children hang from his walls. Throw blankets rest on the back of a couple of comfortable armchairs in the living room, and the coffee table has a fishbowl centerpiece.
“Is something wrong?” Tyler’s warm breath on my neck startles me. I was so deep in thought I didn’t hear him approach. At his nearness, dangerous cravings build up low in my belly. Dang it. This will never end.
Agreeing to work with this man was foolish — not that I had a choice. Making love with him again has been reckless. How can I separate myself from him emotionally if I continue giving him my body? I can’t, but I also don’t regret it. I’ve covered my need for this man with anger. This is a no-win situation.
“Olivia, what’s wrong?” he repeats.
“Nothing, it’s just a little cool out here,” I lie.
“One minute.” He disappears and is back a few moments later with a thick blue throw. He lifts me then sits down, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping the cover around both of us. I instantly forget about the cold. It isn’t only the throw warming me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, curling up against him.
I can tell myself all day it’s for his body heat, but it’s more for the comfort of being in his arms. This is foolish. How can I think of him as my lover now instead of my enemy after only a few hours pinned beneath him... and on top of him... and... Stop it! I’ve always been logical. Many think having sex while hating their partner is a sin and will not do it. I’m apparently not that type of girl. I’m unforgivably weak, and I want to have sex with him more and more and more, even knowing he’s certainly the enemy.
“I never sleep past six in the morning, and now it’s noon. I feel like a sloth,” he says, each word a whisper on the side of my neck.
“That was just a nap, so you have nothing to worry about,” I tell him. “I have to go into the office today, though.”
“Forget about work. Let’s go back to bed.” As he says this, he unclasps his hands, and slips one beneath the cover, and begins caressing my stomach. My instant arousal tells me he can take me right now without protest. I let out a groan when his fingers slip beneath my shirt and travel over the mound of my breast.
Before I get too far gone, I pull from him. I need to get away from here and give myself time to think. I certainly can’t do that while Tyler’s touching me.
“What’s the matter?” His fingers still, and when I don’t reply right away, he turns my head so he can see my eyes, my mouth only inches from his.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Tell me the truth, Olivia.”
“I just... this all happened... and now... I just... maybe I should go home and change for work.” The words feel as if they’re being torn from my throat.
His eyes dilate and his lips compress, and for a moment I think he’s angry. But he immediately calms, and I let out a breath of relief. I don’t feel like fighting right now. That’s all we ever seem to do.
“We make the best decisions when we don’t have our guard up,” he tells me before clasping the back of my neck and pulling me to him. He captures my lips in a heated kiss. I begin losing the battle with myself again.
When I’m ready to pull his pants down and mine with them, Tyler releases my mouth and leans back, fire gleaming in his eyes, his lips wet from our kiss, making me want to lean forward and kiss him again.
“I could carry you to my bedroom and make love to you over and over again until you don’t have an ounce of fight left,” he says, his fingers still on the back of my neck, moving in slow circles that are sending shivers down my spine. “But I’m not going to do that. I don’t want you to say I coerced this. I want you to own it, to love it, to accept that this is where we’re supposed to be.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m going to be miserable. I’m going to take you home so you can have time to figure things out. And then, when we come together again, it will be that much better.”
There’s so much heat pooling inside of me that the stupid blue throw, which was wonderful at first, is now suffocating me. Before I think twice about it, I lean forward and kiss him, every ounce of hunger I’m feeling conveyed in my response. Every time he begins to let me go, I cling to him. I certainly have no right to play a victim.
“Okay, we’ve already made love, so one more time doesn’t make me dishonorable,” he growls before unzipping my slacks and pushing them and my panties off my hips. “But then I’m taking you home to think.”
