I reach that peak and bury my face in his neck, breathing in his scent, muffling the noises I want to make. Oliver reaches his own soon after me with a single grunt.
I know that afterwards I should be happy. I should feel good that this finally happened, that I wasn’t the only one who noticed the tension between the two of us. But all I can think about is...what have I just done? Why did I do that? It was a mistake. It was a total mistake.
I look up at Oliver, trying to see if he’s thinking the same thing. I can’t read his face. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He pulls his body away from mine, getting himself dressed again in silence. He hands me my own clothes back and I pull them all back on. Silence washes over us and I feel like we’re back to the beginning – the uncomfortableness of the silence, never knowing what to say. Every step we took forward just got pushed five times backwards, because I have no self-control.
I get off of my desk, take a breath and gather my things. I don’t know what to say. I’m waiting on him. I think he notices the awkwardness because he speaks.
“You’ll have a new computer tomorrow.”
And that’s it. That’s all he leaves me with. He doesn’t smile in my direction. He doesn’t have a smooth line or a stupid joke. He doesn’t even say ‘thank you’ like a douche. He fixes his sleeves and walks out, leaving me dumbfounded and feeling the lowest of lows.
Chapter Eight
I don’t want to go to work the next morning. This deep, awful feeling has settled into my chest. I feel like I've done something wrong, something that is going to mess everything up.
I don’t know what I was expecting out of Oliver. I really don’t. I didn’t expect us to do what we did and then have him drop to his knees to propose. I just...I guess I didn’t expect him to treat me like I was nothing. There has to be something between us that is more than sex...there has to be. I feel it and I know that he does too.
I keep my head down as I walk to my office; I don’t even try to sneak a peek inside of Oliver’s office. Usually I do, usually I just want to get a little glimpse of him but today...I don’t think I can stomach it. I walk right past to my office and push the door open.
I flick the light on, trying not to pay any attention to the floor where our clothes had laid last night. I walk around to my desk, and see the new computer that was promised. Folded on the keyboard is a white piece of paper, with a sigh, I open it.
Cassidy,
I’m a man who’s awful with words, I think you know that by now. I realize that how I acted yesterday was probably a mistake. I should have said something, left it different from how I did. I’d like to make it up to you. How about dinner tonight? Your place around seven? I’ll check in with you later today for your answer.
Oliver
Dinner? At my place? My first thought is that he wants to go somewhere that I can’t make a scene. He wants to tell me that he wants something not-so serious between the two of us and he wants to let me down easily. The thing is, I’m not going to make a scene. I accepted that last night. I know that there will be nothing between Oliver and I – ever. Even if I wish for something different.
Right after lunch, Oliver stays true to his word. He pokes his head into my office, and I acknowledge him (even though it is quite tempting not to).
“Did you get my letter?” he asked.
“I did.”
“And?”
“We can do dinner tonight around seven. My place though?”
“My place is too crowded. My father is haunting the place like a ghost. I’d rather spend some alone time with you if that’s okay?”
I hate that that makes me smile. I hate that I know this isn’t a good idea, but I give in anyway.
“That’s fine,” I replied. I’m quickly realizing that Oliver is a weakness of mine. I should have walked away from this job the minute I had the chance to.
“Great. While I’m here, father’s trial date has been set. It’s a month from now. I’m thinking we can arrange some interviews before then, sway the public’s opinion a bit. Hopefully, it’ll reach whoever is chosen for the jury.”
I don’t comment on how the jury is usually questioned about their exposure to the case or how they’re asked about their opinions of the people involved. I’m sure the Windsor family has already found a work-around for that.
“I’ll work on it. The NNC is still asking for an interview. I told them I’d arrange something. Safe to say it should be with Alan at the manor?”
Oliver nods.
“Great. I’ll reach out and let them know. I’ll pull a few more strings and see what I can set up. We’ll get Alan’s face on every channel we can.”
It’s the only thing I can do. I know the public opinion has swayed since Camille’s affair has been revealed. It gives Alan a reason to kill Matthew; I don’t know how to make him look less guilty. I hope that he does.
At seven on the dot, there’s a knock at my apartment door. I open it to see Oliver carrying a paper grocery bag under his arm. I raise an eyebrow when I let him in.
“I do have food, you know. I’m not that poor.”
He chuckled, walking through the dining room and into the kitchen. “I’d hope not, but I’m making dinner.”
I was fully expecting us to order something in, or maybe he had Helga cook something and he was bringing it over. Instead...Oliver was cooking? I’m dumbfounded, standing in the entryway between the kitchen and the dining room.
“You’re cooking?”
When he looks back at me, it reminds me of that night he visited me in my hotel room.
“I do know how,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m not as helpless as people like to think.”
Despite what he says, I highly doubt it.
“Whatever you say. Just don’t destroy my kitchen. I’ll never get the security deposit back if you do,” I told him. I proceed to head over to the breakfast bar that looks into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the stools that I had just bought for it.
I watch as Oliver cooks, almost in awe of his every movement. He has his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, giving me a good look at his muscular forearms. He’s making spaghetti, not a hard dish to make, but it’s hypnotizing to watch him. Who doesn’t like watching a gorgeous man cook?
“I set up a few more interviews for Alan,” I said, to fill the silence in the room. “I do need to discuss with him which ones he wants to take up though. Or if he wants to do any of them.”
Oliver hums to my statement as he finishes chopping the onion he’s working on. When he’s done, he puts it in the pan before turning to look over at me.
“Let’s not talk about work or my father, Cassidy.”
“Oh,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “Yeah, okay.” What else am I supposed to talk about with him? I want to avoid discussing what happened between us, not wanting to look like I’m holding onto false hope or reeking of desperation.
The silence between us is officially back to being uncomfortable, leaving me unsure of what is and what isn’t the right thing to say. Oliver cooks in silence, occasionally muttering to himself to remember what step is next. Minutes pass between us, feeling more like hours in this silence, when he breaks it.
“I wanted to discuss this over dinner, but I feel like now would be the best time. Cassidy, about yesterday...”
“I’m not going to ask anything of you, Oliver,” I cut him off. “You don’t have to worry about that. I know it was a one-off thing...”
“Cassidy,” he turned to look at me and he sounds annoyed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish before you cut me off again.”
My cheeks heat up, but I nod, giving him the go ahead.
“I don’t regret what happened between us. In fact, I think my feelings for you have been growing for a while. It started because you are beautiful, but I think we have the chance for a deeper connection, and I’d like to explore that.” He’s leaning back against my kitchen counter, looking at me as he speaks.
; I can’t make eye contact with him, because I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting this to be an option, although a part of me was hoping for it.
“I...I thought you...”
“That I didn’t do relationships?” It’s his turn to cut me off. Oliver doesn’t look offended, instead, he’s just smirking in my direction, shaking his head. “Cassidy, haven’t you learned that you can’t believe everything you read in the paper nowadays? I’m well aware of what my reputation says...but I like you.”
My cheeks are burning and thanks to the great lighting in my apartment, I’m sure Oliver can tell. I look down at the counter before slowly looking back up at him.
“I like you too, Oliver.” I feel like I’m in elementary school. Do you like me or do you like like me? “But we work together, I’m sure that’ll cause complications and—"
He cuts me off again, “Cassidy, I’m Oliver Windsor. I get what I want and what I want is you if you’re willing. I can make it all work. Besides, we work together, I’m not exactly your boss. You tell me what to do more times than not.”
He grins and I melt.
This isn’t where I expected things to go, but I’m into it. I’m into him. I feel happy, unbelievably so.
“All right.”
“All right?” his grin widened. “So, you’ll give me a chance?”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “I’ll give you a chance.”
Surprisingly, Oliver’s spaghetti was delicious. When I tell him so, he looks at me with a wide, proud grin.
“Told you I knew how,” he said as he puts a fork full of spaghetti into his mouth. He chews and swallows before adding, “It’s the only dish I know how to cook.”
“Thought so,” I said and we both laugh.
After dinner, we clean the kitchen together before curling up on my couch. Oliver has his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. His warmth spreads over me in a way that I never imagined it would. I feel relaxed, like my body is just melting into his. He rubs my upper arm as he holds me to him, and we talk.
Oliver talks more about his upbringing. He tells me about his first stepmother, the only one he actually liked, who left because Alan never spent time with her. His second stepmother lasted the longest, but she died of cancer. A year later, Camille entered their lives. She was so much younger than the others, closer to Oliver’s age than Alan’s. She always made him feel uncomfortable, and she and Alan argued so much.
“I knew it was a matter of time before she ended up cheating on him. Camille is never satisfied,” he said.
My life has hardly been as dramatic as his. I tell him about growing up with a single mother, I tell him about all the dinners that I ate alone because she was working her second job or because she was so exhausted that she passed out on the couch before she could cook dinner.
I don’t think I’ve ever opened up to someone like I’m opening up to Oliver. It just feels...natural. He tells me more about Allison, how the lack of a good mother figure in her life is what really ruined her. Alan tried his best, but he was far from a motherly figure. He gave her the same advice he gave Oliver, not taking into account their gender differences.
We move on from the heavy childhood trauma to talk about lighter subjects like hobbies and favorites. I learn that Oliver loves cooking, even if he can only cook one dish. He wants to learn more but never has the time. I learn that he loves snowboarding and surfing, preferring the latter because he loves the ocean.
I tell him about my love of trashy reality TV after a bad day and how I’ve always wanted to go surfing. We make a deal that he’ll teach me how to surf if I teach him how to cook something that’s not spaghetti.
I lose track of time as we talk. The only thing I know, is despite how stupid it feels, the longer we talk, the more I melt for him. I stop seeing him as someone on a pedestal, someone who’s unattainable. The more I get to know him, the more I see him as just a person.
In the late hours of the morning, I tell him all about my crush on him. I tell him how I used to cut his picture out of tabloids as a teenager and swoon whenever he was on TV. When I confess that, Oliver dies of laughter. He loves it. I laugh with him and then, in the middle of our fit of laughter about my ridiculous teenage crush, he pulls me to him and kisses me.
This time when Oliver kisses me, it’s not like the others. It’s not something hesitant or new. It feels warm and natural. My lips press against his, soft, affectionate. He pulls me closer to him, then into his lap. We kiss until my lips are swollen and I feel lightheaded. Oliver breaks the kiss, eyes staring into mine.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, brushing some hair out of my face.
“Let’s,” I agreed.
He scoops me into his arms and carries me to my bed, laying me down gently. Tonight, Oliver and I make love. It has less of the lust quality that it had yesterday. Instead, it’s just two people who can’t get enough of each other, two people exploring their feelings for one another.
We fall asleep together that night and when I wake up, seeing him shirtless next to me, I feel safe. I feel even more relaxed than I had when we went to bed. I curl up next to him and fall back asleep with ease.
I wish this new step in our relationship hadn’t changed our working one, but it has. I find myself making up reasons to visit him throughout the day. I get butterflies whenever I see him looking at me, and I know he’s looking at me. He makes a point of staring straight at me, occasionally winking and making me melt on the inside. We try to keep things professional, but it’s so damn hard.
Oliver’s walking me back to my office after lunch when he suddenly grabs my arm and gives it a rough tug. He pulls me into a room I’ve never been in before, closing the door behind us.
Looking around, I realize it’s a storage closet. I raise an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I can’t control myself anymore, Cassidy. I need you,” his voice comes out as a growl, almost a desperate grunt.
He pushes me back against the wall, his hands on my hips. I sigh. I want him so damn badly.
“Oliver,” I sighed, “We can’t.” I don’t think anybody besides us is aware of our relationship. We haven’t quite made it public yet. What will people say if they know we’re hooking up in random closets?
“Why not?” he growled, leaning in and pressing his lips to my neck. I sigh, trying to stand my ground and not give into him too quickly. “Who’s going to find out? The boss?” he snickered. “Cassidy, I’m in charge. What I do with my own time is my business. If anyone has a problem with that, I’ll fire them.”
His hands slide down my hips, then back up, slowly pulling up my skirt.
God. I wish he wasn’t hot when he was pulling the ‘I’m in charge’ card. I wish I could absolutely tell him ‘no’. But I can’t. I give in.
“Fine,” I sighed.
He finishes pulling my skirt up, bunching it around my waist. “Oh. Don’t act like you don’t want it just as much as I do.”
His voice sends shivers down my spine, making me feel like I’m going to melt. I love it when he gets like this.
“I do,” I said quietly, reaching out and letting my fingers play with the buttons on his shirt. “I just don’t want us to get in trouble.”
Oliver slides his thumbs under the waistband of my panties, making my body feel like every inch of it is electrified. “We’re not going to get in trouble. I think you sincerely underestimate my role in management here.”
He chuckles, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. His breath is warm on my skin, making me feel even more electrified. How can I not give into him when he’s like this? All over me, electrifying me, making me want him more than anything else in the world. Working with him is dangerous, risky, but God it’s worth it.
He knows that I’m giving into him when our lips crash together, my eagerness and desperation for him are clear. I hear Oliver’s hands working the belt on his pants, getting them undone. He lifts me so my legs can wrap around his waist. With one hand, he pushes my pant
ies to the side and pushes inside of me.
I gasp, the feeling overwhelming. Every time with him feels that much better. Our lips stay together, saying words and expressing feelings that we normally don’t. He has his arms locked around me, helping me stay secure as he thrusts inside of me. Our noises are muffled by our lips crashed together, although I’m sure other noises echo out of the closet and anyone who passes by will know what’s going on.
It’s quick, like our first time together. This time, there’s not the same sense of taboo. This time it’s purely because we want each other madly, because being around each other all day without touching is just too much for us.
I reach my peak with a cry of his name, his mouth swallowing my moans eagerly. His hips stutter as he falls over the edge right after me. We stay like that for a minute, breathless and flushed. We look at each other and we laugh. We laugh because we’re utterly ridiculous, acting like lustful teenagers.
One of his hands lets go of me and he reaches out to try to smooth my hair. “God,” he breathed. “You’re gorgeous, Cassidy.”
I feel my cheeks heat up, his words getting to me like only they can.
“Stop it,” I muttered, using a hand to playfully smack at him. He slowly lets me down and we reposition ourselves, making sure we look presentable before we go back outside the closet.
This man is going to be the death of me.
Oliver stays over at my apartment much more often than I stay at the manor. He claims it’s because it’s so busy there, there’s too many people for privacy. It’s an easy thing to accept. The last thing I want is for everyone else to hear the sounds that he makes me make.
It’s usually every other night we spend together. Some weeks it’s more common than not. It depends on what’s going on with work, with Alan’s trial.
He told me he was coming over a few hours ago, and he still hasn’t shown up. It’s ridiculous how anxiousness works. Instantly, I begin to fear that Oliver is in a ditch somewhere. I know how stupid that sounds, I’m sure something came up...but I’m still worried that something is wrong.
Fake Love Rich Boss Series Page 10
