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I didn’t want her hatred. I didn’t want to live with the knowledge that I caused her such pain.
“Olivia—” I began, but she interrupted me.
“It’s fine now. It was a long time ago, and I’m okay now,” she shrugged, forcing a smile. “I’ve moved on.”
No, she hadn’t moved on. I could sense it.
From the moment I met Olivia, I could tell there was something off about her. The intensity of her animosity toward me was palpable. It was evident in her tone and the way she addressed me during those initial days before she gradually softened. If I had only known the reason for her hatred, perhaps I could have apologized, although a mere apology might not suffice.
The problem now was that I struggled to recall that particular day. It had been so long ago, and the memory offered no solace. Bits and pieces resurfaced—her approaching me with the published article in her school magazine, making comments—but I couldn’t be certain if my words had been hurtful.
Given my past lack of tack, I knew she wouldn’t fabricate the pain she felt. I used to be harsh with my words, and although I’ve made improvements, it didn’t change the fact that I must have caused hurt countless times. Olivia was only seventeen, while I was thirty-two. It’s only natural that she took my words to heart.
I should have been more cautious. The pizza on my plate grew stale, my appetite waning as I gazed at her. She looked indifferent on the surface, but her eyes, those beautiful blues eyes, revealed the lingering pain she carried. She would always remember my words.
I didn’t want her to harbor such feelings toward me, and it wasn’t solely because she was James’s sister. It was because I genuinely didn’t want to see her hurt.
I approached her with determination, mustering up the courage to speak. “Olivia.” She looked up at me, stuffing a bite of pizza in her mouth. I sat down beside her on the couch, taking her hand in mine. “I’m truly sorry, Olivia. I know that an apology at this point can never make up for the years of pain I’ve caused you, and I genuinely regret it.”
She swallowed. “I said it’s fine, Ethan. It was a long time?—”
“No, Olivia!” I cut her off. “It doesn’t excuse the fact that I hurt you and that you’re still carrying the pain from that incident. I don’t want to see you hurt.” I squeezed her hand, feeling that ache of remorse returning. “I hate to see you hurt, especially knowing I’m the reason.”
“Why?” Olivia asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m James’s little sister?”
“Yes and?—”
“Is that all you see me as? An annoying little sister?” Her tone held a hint of offense.
I was taken aback, uncertain how to interpret her words. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions prematurely. “Well, you’re not exactly my sister.”
“I’m not your sister,” she corrected, her blue eyes shining.
“I know,” I breathed out. It’s one of the complications making it harder for me to deal with my sexual attraction toward her. I had feelings for her, but it was a forbidden territory.
“Then why do you treat me like one?” She bit her bottom lip, briefly averting her gaze before locking eyes with me again. “I don’t see you as a brother either. I mean, no one would think of kissing her brother, right?” Her cheeks reddened as she spoke, while my heart raced. It was difficult to comprehend the idea that she might also be attracted to me. “At least not in the way you should kiss a brother. It’s even weirder to have dreams about having sex with your brother, isn’t it? If I truly saw you as a brother, I wouldn’t be so attracted to?—”
I didn’t let her finish before I pulled her close by the nape of her neck and my lips met hers. Olivia opened up to me, moaning softly as our tongues intertwined, exploring each other with fervor. I trailed my hand over her waist and lifted her into my arms. She straddled my hips, causing a surge of arousal to course through me as she settled above my erection. It was impossible to ignore.
Breaking the kiss, I locked eyes with her. “I’ve never thought of you as a sister either, Olivia. And any comments suggesting otherwise were merely attempts to hide my attraction to you.”
“Really?” She was quiet for a moment as she bit her bottom lip, then her eyes grew fiery. “I want you, Ethan. Make love to me.”
I needed no further invitation. I knew what I wanted, and I had wanted it for a long time. There was no holding back.
Pressing her body against mine, I whispered against her lips, “That makes two of us, Olivia.”
She gasped, providing the perfect opportunity to deepen our kiss. I tenderly explored her lips, nibbling on the supple flesh before trailing kisses along her neck as my hands roamed over her body.
Olivia’s hands got lost in my hair as she ground her body against mine. I teased at her nape with gentle nips, relishing in the sharp gasp that escaped her lips. Slowly, I unbuttoned her shirt, savoring the sight of the goosebumps forming on her skin. Removing the shirt, I cupped one of her breasts with my right hand, caressing her nipple through the delicate lace fabric of her bra.
“Take it off,” she pleaded, pressing her breast against my palm.
I watched the wavering emotions on her face transform from frustration to orgasmic relief. I loved this. The experience was beyond everything I had ever dreamed of or imagined, and it brought me immense pleasure.
“I want to take my time and savor every moment, Olivia. There are countless things I wish to explore,” I said, my grin stretching from ear to ear.
Olivia’s expression shifted from frustration to a state of urgent desire. “I thought you despised wasting precious time,” she remarked.
