Sexy Hart (Sexy Series)
Page 4
I giggle and gently smack his hand, "This is not the time, Oliver."
"I know, but seriously, thank you for putting up with it, and not biting back. And also, for not blaming me for the things she says to you. You're not that type of person, I know, but a part of me knows that you have been tolerant for my benefit."
I half smile and shrug, awkwardly. I am not the confrontational type, but yes, of course I'd keep my mouth shut for Oliver's benefit.
"And as for it not being 'just you', you're wrong. I wouldn't want to make love to any attractive girl right now... I want to make love to you."
Whoahoahoa... I simply stare, open-mouthed with my eyes as big as plates.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I will stop doing that. It's not fair."
No! It's fair! Keep saying it, keep wanting me... I can't even begin to explain how much I need to get naked with him and feel his warm skin against my naked body, have him kiss my neck, lick my skin... make long, hard love to me.
God knows what's written all over my face as I fall into this idyllic daydream, because when I glance back at him, he has the sexiest smirk painted all over that gorgeously happy face of his. A subject change is a must! "Anyway! The wine is delicious isn't it, hmm?" I take a long gulp, dribbling half of it down my chin in clumsy nervousness.
"Incredible..." he says, reaching forward to brush my hand away as I fumble to clean my face, and he smoothly runs his thumb across my chin before sucking it, making me whimper internally. Or externally... I'm not really sure. What the hell has gotten into him?!
We simply gaze at each other for a moment, I don't even notice him edging closer to me because I'm too busy soaking in this sexy, flirtatious expression of his, so when his hand slips around the back of my neck and his lips ever so lightly brush against mine, I moan out loud in longing, my eyebrows drawing together and my eyes closing as I prepare for him to take it a little further and kiss me softly.
"Hey, is this seat taken?" An irritating, loud voice asks, disturbing us, making us jump apart and fidget guiltily.
"Hmm? Oh... uh, no... go ahead," Oliver says politely, running his hand through his hair. He turns to look at me and blows out a puff of air. "Wow. That was..."
"That was close!" I finish his sentence, nodding with a slight smile. "We should, er, we should probably make our way back now. It's all getting a little over-heated here."
He sits up straight and rubs his delicious thighs with his equally delicious hands. "Quite right. Good idea. Quite right. Good idea."
I giggle at his awkwardness as we step off the platform and head towards the lift area.
The lift arrives and he stretches his arm out for me to enter, "After you.”
The doors close behind him and he smiles before looking up at my face. He presses against me, taking me by surprise and before I know it, I'm pushed up against the wall beneath him, kissing like there's no tomorrow. The hairs on my arms... the hairs on my entire body, in fact, stand on end as I melt at his touch. He runs those strong hands up my sides and around my back until he's holding me so tightly against him that I couldn't move an inch if I tried... if I wanted to... which I don't.
I moan quietly as our tongues play together, erotically, his breath warming my lips, his lips caressing me divinely. My arms wrap around him, my hands pressing against his wide back holding him against me as he slowly glides one hand down my body to my naked thigh, and as he grabs it and hoists it up his side, I yelp in desperation. I need him... I need Oliver all to myself in my bed tonight, so, so badly. I need that feeling of his weight resting on my naked, inner thighs... oh...
"Oh god, Oliver..." I whine, biting down on his lip.
"Clare, oh fuck... I've got to... I need you..."
Before I can respond, our tongues are together again, passionately searching for more, our hands all over one another, our bodies closer than ever, and suddenly... 'ping'... the lift grinds to a halt. Fuck you, lift! No, really. Fuck. You.
We swiftly separate in preparation for the opening doors. I take a long, deep breath in and out again, trying to shake off this unbearable horn. Ugh, like I needed that to get any worse. I smooth my hair down as I step out into the hallway like it's going to change the fact that we've just been at it like a pair of deprived sex-addicts.
"I, er... wow. I'm..." Oliver says as he slows his pace and I feel an urge to help him out.
"Don't be, Ol. I really enjoyed it, too."
I watch as his face lights up and he slows even more. "You... you're not going to say it should never have happened and all that?"
I smile, it's very true, I should and would normally be doing so right now, but the truth is, I did enjoy it. "I think we both know what should and shouldn't have happened. It's not going any further, let's just leave it at that. It was naughty... but nice. Very nice."
He smiles and nods, "It was very nice, indeed. Thank you."
"You're welcome, thank you. Now, that's out of our systems, let's shake it out and get back to the apartment and back to BFFs. Okay?"
"I don't want to..." he says with a wink, "but okay."
When we get to the door, he unlocks it and we both enter casually, making our way through to the open plan kitchen/living area. I take some water from the fridge and blow Oliver a kiss goodnight before entering my/Bea and Daniel's bedroom, closing the door and flopping, face-first onto the bed and whimpering into the pillow like a spoilt child. I want sex!
CHAPTER THREE
SUNDAY 16TH JUNE
"Fucking arsehole! You arsehole! Argh!"
What the finkle... I sit bolt upright in bed having been ripped so mercilessly from my vivid dream about some weird five star resort in Fiji. Bit of a strange dream, but it was definitely a luxurious place, and I had my own special suite that I was sharing with... with... wait, who was I sharing it with? Oh... the bedroom... it was so amazing. Ooh! I had sex in my dream! I had sex in my amazing suite! Oh I need to go back... whatever that noise was... shh and let me go back to Fiji and the hotel and the sex...
"Oliver! You bastard!"
"Agh!" I cry out loud, jumping at the hideous, high-pitched, animal noises coming from the living area... or kitchen... or something. Ugh... Selfish Stacy. Shut the fuck up, you whore. I gasp and throw my hand over my mouth as if I've just said that aloud. Which, by the way, I didn't. God, I can't even be rude about the bitch in my thoughts without having to castigate myself. I need to sort that out.
"Stacy, calm down, stop being crazy."
"Stop fucking calling me crazy!"
Good god, do they really have to do this outside my door? And I have news for you Stacy... YOU ARE CRAZY. Now shut up and let me sleep!
Oliver laughs. "Well, maybe you should take a look and a listen to yourself right now and you might understand why I'm calling you crazy."
"Fuck you, wanker."
Ugh. Seriously, it is too early for this crap. Hang on... what time is it? I lean over to check my phone on the bedside table. Oh shit! We're leaving for Vegas in forty minutes! I jump out of bed, wobbling on my feet, I still feel half asleep. I cover my eyes and point to the ceiling as I try to concentrate on my balance and what I need to do first.
Pack a bag.
Where did Bea say her overnight bags were again? In the... wardrobe? Where's the wardrobe? I look around the room for the wardrobe and it takes a shockingly long time for me to remember that she has a walk-in wardrobe and that I have been using it this entire stay. Oh dear god, I think I need a coffee or something.
I retrieve an overnight bag from one of the higher shelves in the deliciously scented 'closet' - as they call it here, and wander back out to the bedroom and plonk it on the bed. I wonder if it's safe to go out there now... she seems to have calmed down a bit by the sounds of it.
After grabbing the dressing gown, I crack open the door and poke my head around to check if it's safe. It seems that way, so I emerge and slip into the kitchen quickly and quietly. They have one of those super-dooper coffee maker machine things here - and
this morning, that makes me a very happy girl.
I manage to make my cappuccino and grab a warm croissant from the dish of fresh pastries that seems to appear, as if by magic, every morning, and I head back to my quarters to get ready and pack in peace. I mentally hi-five myself for managing to make it without being noticed by the big, bad, crazy wolf.
I wonder if that was just a normal argument like most days, or the result of a dumping... Vegas will be a lot nicer if he's dumped her and she stays here... but I do remember him saying he'd wait until they got back to the UK, so it must just be an every day barny. She's nuts.
About half an hour later, I am transformed from craggy, crazy-haired, wobbly person to fresh, invigorated, raring to go Clare. I have my bag packed, my sunglasses on top of my head in front of my super-fun, sixties style ponytail and my outfit looks hot. Even if I do say so myself. I'm feeling a real sense of... of... 'oomph!' today and I'm ready to hit Vegas and have an amazing weekend.
I opted for a short-ish pastel blue sundress with tiny white spots and peach flowers all over. It has a skater style skirt, but the top of the dress is fitted and has a very low, open back with two, tiny, cross-over spaghetti straps. Obviously I can't wear a bra with it which is a little daring for someone with big boobs like me, but I'm lucky that they're still relatively buoyant and I can go braless without too much of an issue.
I have teamed the dress with cute, white, ballet shoes. Real ones. I know they only last five minutes when you wear them as shoes, but I have always adored real ballet shoes so I buy myself a good supply quite frequently. I feel, somehow, lightweight and elegant when I wear them, like I could pirouette down the road as elegantly as Darcy Bussell. I can't - obviously, I would probably end up having a nasty collision with a tramp and get covered in pee and stale, cheap beer, but still - I can imagine I'm Darcy for the benefit of my happy mood. They're also great for work.
I throw a peach pashmina over my shoulders and wheel my bag out of my room and into the lounge with a big smile on my face, ready to face the bitch and my oh-so-adorable boy BFF. Yes, I know you're waiting for me to mention something about last night, but it's not happening. Done, dusted, new chapter. Again. I plan on finding my American Mr. Right this weekend, even if it's just to satisfy the unbearable horn. So there you have it, no more snogging and grinding with Oliver and no more discussing it. Again.
I'm very surprised to see the pair of them standing next to one another, smiling, saying... nothing. Silence is golden where these two are concerned. She got over that one quickly enough.
"Hiya!" I greet, happily. "Are you both ready?"
"Morning," Stacy says and I double take... no 'oh, you're up'? No 'whatever'? No 'that dress is... um... very 'you''? Who is this new girl and what has she done with bitch-face? Actually, don't answer that - leave her there, hopefully she pushed her of a rocky cliff.
"Morning, Clare, yep, we're ready - you set?"
"Absolutely, let's get downstairs and head to Vegas, baby!" I say excitedly, and although Stacy doesn't run up and hi-five me like Oliver does, she does offer me a genuine looking smile. She looks so much prettier like that.
A few minutes later after an unusually loquacious ride down in 'that' lift (what?), we're piling into a very sophisticated looking Chrysler Voyager. I'm not sure if that's what they call them here in the States, but back at home - that's what this is. And I love it. It's so comfy and the two rows of seats in the back are facing each other with a table in the middle! How very sociable!
I give Alexia a big hug as I sit down next to her on the furthest seat at the back. I spent some great, quality time with Alexia in Aspen, we really clicked and I have so enjoyed meeting up with her again for this trip. I love that she is Bea's sister-in-law-to-be now, it means I'll get to see a lot more of her, even though she lives here in the States.
Alexia is so pristine and proper on the outside, but once you get to know her - you see the real, lovely, fun girl underneath. I'm actually quite envious of her 'pristine' and 'proper' look, she's always so well put together, not a hair out of place. Her stunning cheek bones, dazzling eyes and gorgeous, silky brown hair, she’s elegance and grace all the way. Me? I'm a pretty face with big boobs and a huge dose of clumsy and awkward. In my opinion anyway. Maybe I don't come across that way... I hope not. Oliver seems to think I'm sexy.
Oliver climbs into the car followed by Stacy. She greets Alexia warmly and as she turns to look at her seat, Alexia looks at me with a frown as if to say, ‘what’s the friendliness all about?’
“Um, Oliver, I can’t sit here…” she says as if we’re all supposed to know why.
“Why not?” he responds.
She sighs dramatically. “I need to face the direction of travel, if I sit here, I’ll be sick. I need to sit somewhere else.” Ah, looks like a little bit of the old Stacy we know and love is making a comeback…
“Hey, I’ll swap with you, not a problem,” I offer to try and nip this spoilt brat thing in the bud. Although to be fair to Stacy, it’s the worst to feel sick on a long journey, and I’m sure she’s speaking the truth.
“Oh. Uh, thanks.” We both stand and awkwardly manoeuvre around the small table, my bottom poking right in Oliver’s face as I slip around into the seat next to him. As she sits down, she looks from Oliver to me, and back again. What now? She can’t seriously have a problem with me sitting next to him.
“Oliver, babe…”
“Hmm?”
“Oliver…” she says, slightly more sternly.
“Yes?”
“Oliver…” she says again through gritted teeth as her eyes widen. Uh oh, he’s in trouble.
“What Stacy!” he cries, clearly losing his temper.
There is a pause for a moment as Oliver tries to work out what her problem is. He’s quite slow on the uptake really. “Oh… no, don’t be silly, Stace, I don’t need to sit next to you.”
“Uh, yes you do.”
“Oh…” Alexia says, not quite realising what’s happening. “Oh, I’ll move, no problem.” She stands and Oliver sighs.
“I’m sorry, thanks, Alexia, it really wasn’t necessary.”
“It was.” Stacy says as she slips both of her arms around one of his and leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, babe… I want to sit next to my pooky while we travel. We can snuggle…”
Oh dear lord. I swear I almost hear Bea vomiting in the front of the car. Stacy really is the strangest creature I have ever come across. Why are girls so weird?
Oliver looks a little uncomfortable, maybe embarrassed. Probably so. I would be if I were him.
As our journey begins, we all chat quietly in our pairs. Bea and Daniel are speaking softly in the front, Bea’s soft, happy laugh warming my cockles. I love how happy she is.
Oliver is resting his head back, his eyes closed while his bizarre girlfriend clings on to him and tickles his face sporadically, making him flinch and brush her away. How annoying.
And Alexia and I chat happily about London and how she really needs to come and visit her brother.
“Honestly, Alexia, my home isn’t a palace or anything, but you’d be more than welcome to come and stay with me if you’d rather give them some time to be lovers. I’m on my own now that Til’s moved here so I’d love to have you stay.”
“Thank you so much, that’s so sweet of you. I’d really enjoy that.”
“Great! Well, as soon as you’re able to take time off to be there, you’ll be welcome.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Me neither. And you might find yourself a hot English lover…” I tease, nudging her with my elbow.
“Don’t… I have such a thing about guys with that hot accent.”
“Sorry love,” Stacy interrupts, “he’s taken.” she says smugly before grabbing Oliver’s face - waking him, and forcing her mouth onto his. I feel so sorry for him, he just wants to sleep and she won’t let him; as soon as he starts drifting, she pokes him or bothers him. His eyes shoot open and
his hands tense.
When she’s finally done, Oliver looks at her for a moment in question, before resting his head back again slowly and closing his eyes. I can see him coming close to the end of his tether.
“Oh, of course I didn’t mean Oliver. Although, yes, the accent is hot. But I can never be interested in a taken man.”
Something inside me spasms. Guilt. That’s my mantra. That’s how I feel… yet I am interested in a taken man. I have done something with a taken man. This one. I want to take him from her and make love to him. No! No, no, no you don’t.
~~~~~~~
The next couple of hours go by easily. Thankfully Stacy decides to sleep alongside Oliver, practically wrapped around his entire sleeping body awkwardly. Alexia and I chat comfortably with Daniel and Bea in the front, and it’s really relaxed and enjoyable.
It doesn’t take long for Oliver to wake, given his extreme discomfort with Stacy sprawled out over him, and I turn to talk with him, leaving Alexia talking to the others.
“Hi, nice long sleep?” I whisper.
“Mmm…” he says, stretching slightly, careful not to wake Selfish Stacy, “not particularly, but that short sleep was nice, she been out long?”
“I suppose about an hour.”
“That’s why I managed to sleep then,” he says with a quiet chuckle. Poor thing.
“We’re going to make a pit-stop for gas soon, so if anyone wants to get snacks or anything, that’s the time.” Daniel calls into the back for us to hear, waking Stacy.
“Thanks, Daniel.” Oliver responds as he peels Stacy’s hand from his neck.
“Hmm? Stopping?” she grumbles, “Good. I want water.” She looks back and forth between Oliver and I again and straightens up. “Oh, how long have you been awake?”
“Not long.”
“Sorry, you should have woken me to keep you company.”
“I wouldn’t have woken you Stace, beside, there’s plenty of company here. You obviously needed some rest.”
“No, next time, wake me. Okay?” she says, meaning business, and as Oliver glances at me, I know he’s thinking exactly the same as I am. She is exhausting!