Oliver’s lips quirk into a crooked grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re welcome. Though, if you want to return the favor, just try to be gentle next time.”
I squint at him, unsure what he’s implying until it clicks. My cheeks heat instantly. “I’m not putting my hands on you.”
“But you did,” he teases, his grin widening into a full-blown smirk. “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised. But if I’m being honest, I didn’t hate the bold move.”
His words strike a nerve, and my face flushes hotter. Gritting my teeth, I walk past him, shaking my head and muttering, “Not to get rejected again.”
I turn, but only take a few steps before I feel his hand wrap around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. His grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to spin me back toward him. His expression is unreadable, his gaze sharp and questioning.
“What did you just say?” he asks.
I stare at him, my heart thudding loudly. There’s no one here to witness this moment, no audience for the roles we’re supposed to play. It’s just us. And for once, I speak honestly. “You would push me away. You’ve done it before.”
His eyebrows knit together, and he steps closer. I back up until my spine presses against the counter. The cool surface does nothing to ground me; it only adds to the heat of his presence.
“Is that what you think?” he asks.
Heavy and loaded, his question hangs in the air between us. I meet his gaze, searching for a hint of what he’s thinking, but his expression remains unreadable. My breathing quickens, my pulse hammering as I try to find the courage to answer him… or the strength to look away.
Chapter 21
Oliver
“It’swhatIknow,”she says, arching an eyebrow. Her chest rises and falls quickly, giving away just how much she wants me.
“What makes you so sure?” I stare down into her blue hypnotizing eyes.
I’m walking on thin ice after the earlier accidental touch of my cock and kiss.
She juts her chin up. “You’ve turned me down.”
“When?” I ask, trying to recall when she's been this forward, and I turned her away… My mind immediately jumps to that night at the studio when I’d kissed her, felt that same electricity, but then left abruptly. I’d been in bed by the time she got home, deliberately avoiding her. Then I headed to Jeremy’s bachelor party. But surely, that hadn’t been what she meant? That hadn’t been her making a move, that was me losing control.
Her chin drops, and her eyes shift away. I hate not being able to see her eyes, so I grab her chin and tilt her head back, bringing her pretty eyes back to me.
She exhales. “At Declan’s party.”
My eyebrows pinch, and when I remember that night, I shake my head.
She sucks in a breath and closes her eyes briefly. When they flutter open and pain stares back at me, and I blurt out the truth. “I couldn’t touch you. But it doesn't mean I haven’t wanted to.”
She snorts, eyes rolling. “Sure.”
A growl slips out of me, and I grab her waist to pull her to me. For weeks, I’ve been fighting this attraction, telling myself it would complicate everything, or worse, hurt her somehow. But seeing the disbelief in her eyes breaks my last thread of restraint. “I’ll happily show you just how much I’ve wanted you.”
Her mouth parts, ready to say something else, but she stares up at me, begging me to prove her right. I don’t let her speak. My other hand reaches up to hold her neck, and I lean down. She sucks in a sharp breath as I press my lips to hers in a desperate kiss.
She thinks I’ve never wanted her—how fucking wrong she was. It’s the opposite. I've wanted her, but never allowed myself to cross the line. Plus, she acted like she hated me, but now I know it’s because I turned her down. I couldn’t show her then, but I sure as fuck can do it now. Except the memory of Declan’s face flashes in my mind. The promise I made him… that I wouldn’t touch her. Breaking that promise means betraying one of the few people who’s had my back through everything. But with her body so close to mine, I’m finding it hard to remember why that promise seemed so important.
I absorb the way she tastes, and how sweet she smells, giving her everything of me in this moment. The noises she makes are a mix of plea and pleasure. With no audience, I take in the fact I’m kissing her without worrying about anything except how much I want this. Fuck, I want her. Her hand grabs my neck to pull me closer, as if I’m already not close enough.
Her body melts into mine, my feet on the outside of hers, our heads shifting angles to get deeper, our pace less frantic the more we kiss, both of us slowing down to savor each other. I want her to know what exactly she's doing to me. We explore each other with our hands and mouths. My hand skims the back of her right thigh and hitches it up. Her eyes snap open, wide and feral as she gasps for air. I lower her leg, letting her catch her breath. My own is labored; my heart is beating so hard. She’s a great kisser. I haven’t found someone who matches my rhythm. But we are so in sync with her pressure, soft but hard when needed.
“Believe me yet?”
“Shut up and kiss me again.” She grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me down. This time, I don’t stop. I grab the backs of her thighs and lift her onto the counter. She spreads her legs, and I stand between them. Now, with her at the same height, my hips line up with hers. My hands shift to her cheeks, my thumbs dusting over them and angling her face to kiss her deeper.
My heart is poured into this kiss, trying to show her how I’ve longed for her but never let myself dream.
