I nod. Mike is her fiancé.
“Okay, well don’t stay too late, okay?” I say before turning back to the door.
“Wait,” she all but yells at me.
I turn back and give her a patient smile.
“I am ordering dinner for Judah – from the Greek place around the corner – do you want anything?”
I nod, realizing that I haven’t had anything to eat since the muffin I shared with Olivia. My cock twitches to life at the memory of eating the muffin from her fingers. I give Monica my order and adjust my cock through my jeans once I am alone in the hallway.
I peek into Studio C, seeing Judah watching various screens and taking notes. I thump lightly on the window as I pass by. I don’t take more than two steps before he is at the door beckoning me into the studio.
“So where did you disappear to little brother?” he asks as he pauses his various screens and I settle myself in a chair.
I give him a shrug and a sly smile.
“I had a coffee date with that female I met at the gym this morning.” When it comes to our dealing with the fairer sex – Judah and I have always discussed it; sometimes we act like two gossiping teen girls.
“The cutie with the braids?”
I nod.
We are silent for a moment or two. I know he is expecting me to elaborate, but I don’t know where to start, so I just start talking.
“What I really want to do is call and talk to her, even though I just left her. I want to know everything about her. This is the first time I have ever wanted to call a female and just talk. I mean, usually my only goal is to talk them out of their panties. Don’t get me wrong, I want to do the same with Olivia, but I also want to know everything about her too.”
When I finish my verbal diarrhea, I look up, expecting my twin to make fun of me, but he doesn’t; he is looking at me with a thoughtful expression.
“Her name is Olivia?”
I nod, “Yeah, Olivia Simone.”
“Call her,” he says. “There is nothing wrong with letting her know you’re interested. Besides, we are getting too old for the whole ‘just sex’ game.”
I quirk my brow at him, because that coming from Judah is just strange.
“And stop looking at me like that. Stop being a pussy and call her.” He then turns his chair around and places a set of headphones over his ears - his way of dismissing me. I palm the back of his head, letting him know I appreciate the advice.
When I get myself settled into Studio A, I get busy with my edits, only taking a break when Monica brings my food and bids me goodnight. Judah comes into the studio and we eat dinner together, going over the schedule that Monica completed. A little before 9pm, he comes to the door and lets me know he is leaving.
“Are you heading home?” I ask as I rub my eyes.
“Yeah,” he lets out a yawn. “I will see you in the morning.”
I nod, “Night Bro,” and I turn back to my video screens.
Fifteen minutes later, my phone vibrates with an incoming text. I pick it up and see a number I don’t readily recognize. However, when I open the message, I know it is Olivia - she texted me her address.
Since I am not a fan of texting when getting to know someone, I give her a call. She picks up on the third ring.
“Hello,” she says almost breathlessly - which makes me wonder how she will sound when I have her under me and I am inside her.
“Hi Olivia, it’s Isaac. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”
She replies in a more breathless tone, “Hey Isaac. No, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. I am just chasing Chewy through the house because he stole a piece I am working on.”
I frown.
Who or what the fuck is Chewy?
“Chewy?” I ask hesitantly. That is when I hear a loud crash, followed by the phone going dead. Slightly alarmed, I immediately call back and her voice mail picks up right away. I hang up without leaving a message. I sit and stare at the various video screens, not really seeing anything.
Five minutes later, I call Olivia again – and once again, her voice mail picks up. Ten minutes later, I am in my truck, entering her address into the GPS system. I know I am probably overreacting, but her not answering the phone is unsettling and I am still not sure who or what Chewy is.
It takes me about ten minutes to reach her house. She lives in a historic Richmond neighborhood, where the housing styles are mostly craftsman bungalows with a few colonial style homes mixed in. I pull into the driveway of a light-colored bungalow. It appears that all the lights in the house are on. I try calling her one more time before I knock on the door. Just like the last two times I called, it goes straight to voice mail.
I climb the few stairs onto the front porch and knock on her front door, not sure what I am going to find. I hear the sounds of a barking dog. It sounds almost frantic. I wait a few seconds before knocking again. The porch light comes on.
“Who is it?” A faint voice calls out. It sounds like Olivia, but I can’t be sure. Her voice doesn’t sound right.
“Olivia – it’s me Isaac. Are you okay?” I can feel my heart beating in my ears - something is not right.
I hear her fumbling to unlock the door and when she opens it, I am face to face with Olivia and she is so pale. That is also when I notice that she has a red and white towel wrapped around her forearm. It takes me a few seconds to realize that the red in the towel is actually blood.
“Shit!” I quickly usher her back from the door and enter the house, closing the door behind me. A small dog with blue-black fur and big ears immediately rushes up to me and starts biting and tugging on my pant leg.
“Chewy, stop,” Olivia says faintly as she leans into me. “I fell and cut my arm and I think I broke my phone. I can’t stop the bleeding.” She looks up at me and her eyes are looking a bit unfocused.
I guide her to a big gray chair and sit her down. The towel she has wrapped around her arm is now almost all red. I have a feeling we will be making a trip to the emergency room tonight because she is soaking the towel at an alarming rate.
“Olivia, where do you keep your towels?”
She leans back into the chair, holding her forearm against her chest. She points with her good hand down a hallway. I quickly hurry down the hall and I see two open doors and two closed ones. The open doors appear to be bedrooms. I open the first closed door and I am happy to see that it is a linen closet. I grab three bath towels and hurry back to Olivia.
I kneel down in front of her and gently take her arm, un-wrapping the blood-soaked towel from her forearm. She hisses when I have her arm fully unwrapped. There is a deep cut from her inner elbow almost down to her wrist. I place the soiled towel in one of the bath towels and wrap her arm up again with the other towel, applying pressure.
__________________________
Some forty-five minutes later, we are in the emergency room. I am sitting quietly next to Olivia on a gurney as she leans heavily on me. She is tucked under me as I hold her free hand while an ER doctor stitches up her arm. She has her head on my shoulder and every now then she will stretch up and nuzzle into my neck.
“You smell good,” she slurs as she trails her lips along my neck.
And she’s on painkillers.
I see the ER doctor smirk as he continues to stitch up her arm. Olivia has been quite chatty for the past ten minutes. I am willing to bet that her inner thoughts are now being made external thanks to the painkiller she was given before the doctor started stitching her up. She has been spouting off random things about how I smell or how she likes my body and my favorite - how she wants me to kiss her again.
I look down at her arm and it looks like he is almost done.
“Thirty-seven stitches,” the ER doctor says finally. He wraps Olivia’s forearm in gauze while detailing the care instructions to follow while the cut heals. He also provides a few samples of pain medication and a few boxes of gauze.
By the time we arrive back at Olivia’s house
, she is asleep. I take a moment to look at her before waking her.
Fourteen hours.
I have known her for fourteen hours and in that time, she has become important to me. It feels like I have known her years and not hours. I take in her profile as she sleeps. Her braids are pulled into a low ponytail with the loose ends spilling over her shoulder. My fingers twitch, wanting to wrap her hair around my fist as I kiss her. She has her injured arm cradled to her chest and for a moment, something in my chest clenches. I hate to think what could have happened if I had not come over tonight.
I get out of my truck and cross around to open her door. I would carry her in the house without waking her, but I have no idea where her keys are, so I wake her by gently calling her name and stroking her cheek with my finger.
It takes a moment or two, but she wakes. Her eyes are a bit bleary as she looks at me.
“Hey,” she says. Her voice is sleepy and slurry at the same time.
“Hey Baby Girl,” I say, still stroking her cheek with my finger. “We are back at your house. Where are your house keys?”
She points to the small purse at her feet. It is then I remember the lecture of my mother to never look through a woman’s purse. I mentally roll my eyes and open her purse, quickly finding her keys attached to an Avenger’s key ring.
I scoop her into my arms and not less than five minutes later, I have managed to open her front door, fend off a yappy dog and deposit her onto what I assume is her bed in a bedroom that looks like her. Three walls are pale blue and the wall behind her bed is painted with some kind of iridescent paint that shimmers in the overhead light.
I watch Olivia as she kicks off her shoes before she turns on her side and curls into herself. I wonder if I should help her change clothes. For the first time, I realize what she is wearing – or more accurately, her lack of clothing. She is wearing a pair of shorts that barely cover her ass and my zip-up hoodie that I covered her with earlier. I can’t even remember what she has on under my hoodie. I sit on the edge of the bed behind her, rubbing her back.
“Do you want to change clothes Baby Girl?”
She turns her head and looks up at me with sleepy eyes and a slight smile on her lips.
“Isaac?”
“Yeah,” I respond as I cup her chin and run a thumb under her eye. She looks so sleepy – and beautiful.
“I like it when you call me Baby Girl.”
A chuckle escapes me as I smile down at her.
“Yeah? Good because I like calling you Baby Girl.”
She sits up slowly and non-too-gracefully, she unzips the hoodie before peeling it off. I see that she has an oversized t-shirt underneath. I help her maneuver until she is under the covers, laying on her back and staring up at me with those big brown eyes.
“Do you need anything?”
Her pretty butterscotch complexion blushes. It is then I know - she wants something but is afraid to ask.
“You know you can ask me anything. No need to be shy.”
She looks adorable and sexy at the same time as her blush deepens and she averts her face from me. I am not having any of that. I cup her chin again and gently turn her face back towards me. She immediately scrunches her eyes tight and blurts out, “Will you stay with me tonight?”
Little does she know that I had no intentions of leaving her house tonight. I have fallen quick and hard for this girl. Fourteen damn hours and I already know I will do anything for her.
“I can stay,” I say softly. She slowly opens her eyes. I give her a smile that I hope is reassuring. “My gym bag is in my truck; I keep spare clothes in it. Let me go get that and I will be right back. Can I use your shower?”
She nods her head, her body seeming to relax now that she knows I am staying. I lean over and kiss her forehead before leaving the bed. I turn on the lamp on the nightstand before I make my way out her bedroom, turning off the overhead light as I go. Her ball of fur – Chewy – seems to be waiting for me as I enter her living room/den area.
I wonder if he needs to be walked so he can do his business.
I look around for a leash so I can take him for a quick walk. I don’t see one. When he takes off in the direction of what I assume is the kitchen, I follow. As I enter the kitchen, I see him looking at me before he exits through a dog door that is at the base of the kitchen door.
Well, I guess he doesn’t need to be walked then.
I locate a broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken glass from the side table that Olivia fell into earlier. Before we left for the hospital, I covered the broken glass with a couple of towels so her dog wouldn’t cut himself.
After that is taken care of, I go outside to grab my gym bag. Back in the house, I go back to the kitchen to see if Chewy is back inside and just as I enter, he climbs through the dog door. I follow him as he leaves the kitchen and goes down the hall. He enters one of the open doors and I see it is a spare bedroom. I watch him go over to a dog bed in the corner and settle in.
I enter Olivia’s bedroom and head towards her bathroom for a quick shower. I instinctively glance towards the bed and it’s empty. I bump into her she exits the bathroom.
“I needed to brush my teeth,” she says quietly. “I left an unopened tooth brush for you on the counter.”
I smile down at her.
“Thank you - once I finish up in here,” I nod towards the bathroom, “I’m going to crash in your spare bedroom.”
“Oh,” she says if she is surprised. She starts to fidget while biting her bottom lip. “I thought you were going to sleep in here…with me.”
This girl is full of surprises.
“Is that what you want?”
She nods again.
“Okay then, I’ll sleep in here with you. Why don’t you go ahead and get in bed - I will be out soon.”
I watch her walk to the bed, climb in and curl up in the middle of her king-sized bed. Her choosing to settle in the middle of the bed, rather than choosing a side, tells me something.
She doesn’t share her bed regularly with anyone.
I quickly shower and brush my teeth, pulling on a pair of basketball shorts before I walk back into Olivia’s bedroom. As I approach the bed, I can tell she is asleep. I turn off the nightstand lamp before sliding into her bed. I will myself not to pull her into my arms as I drift off to sleep.
__________________________
Olivia
A dull throbbing pain in my arm wakes me. It takes me a few minutes to gather my bearings and remember the night before. I hesitantly reach behind me and come into contact with a hard and warm body.
It wasn’t a dream.
Carefully, I ease myself into a sitting position and scoot to the side of the bed, determined to find some ibuprofen for my arm.
“Olivia?” A deep rumbling voice - thick and laced with sleep - calls out softly to me.
I don’t say anything, I just sort of freeze up. I have never had a guy in my bed before. The last time I was in bed with a guy, it was with my ex-boyfriend and that was four long years ago. My ex-boyfriend insisted that our ‘sleepovers’ (that is what he called it when we had sex) occur at his house. We never had ‘sleepovers’ at my house. Furthermore, before my ex-boyfriend, I always had sex at the guy’s house – never my house.
Granted, Isaac and I did not have sex, but he is in my bed. As the fog in my head clears some more, I am remembering that I asked him to stay and to sleep in my bed with me. I have no idea what I am supposed to do. It’s not as if this is the awkward morning after; no, this is the awkward middle of the night after my clumsy ass tripped over my own feet and fell into a glass table, which ended with him taking me to the emergency room kind of awkward.
Before I can really panic, I feel him move to sit behind me. He wraps me in his arms, while his thighs rest on the outside of mine. His body is so warm and hard. I hold myself still, but what I really want to do is lean back into him.
“Are you okay Baby Girl?” His warm breath wafts over my neck.
“My arm hurts. I’m going to get some ibuprofen.”
He tightens his arms around me briefly before releasing me from his hold and climbing out of bed. I watch him turn on the bedside lamp and my mouth goes dry. He is only wearing a pair of dark colored basketball shorts. I let my eyes scan his upper body – he is lean, but cut with muscle. I find myself wanting to run my hands down his six-pack. I let my gaze wander a little bit further south and I don’t think he is wearing underwear because I swear I see his cock moving. I snap out of my perusal of his body when he calls my name.
“Olivia?”
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask. I should be ashamed of myself for ogling him, but I’m not.
“The ER doc gave you some sample pain meds – do you want those instead?” I look down at my gauze-wrapped arm and it is still throbbing. At this point, I just want the throbbing to stop.
I nod my head.
Some ten minutes later, I have downed a half a bottle of water, five saltine crackers (because Isaac thought I needed something on my stomach before I took the medication) and one pain pill. I am lying on my side and I can feel Isaac behind me. I so want to scoot back and be the little spoon to his big spoon. I am restless and every few seconds or so I twitch.
“Olivia,” Isaac says softly.
God I love the deepness of his voice.
“Hhhmmm,” is all I can manage.
“You okay?”
“Hhhmmm.”
I can feel him scoot closer, placing a tentative hand on my hip. I feel the front of his thighs molding to the back of my thighs. I feel his pelvis mold to my ass and finally his chest mold to my back.
“Is this okay?” His voice that close to my ear sends a jolt straight to my pussy.
Instead of answering him verbally, I take his hand that is still on my hip and clasp it with mine. I drag our joined hands upward and let them rest against my chest. My nerves are on high alert and it takes me a few minutes to calm myself. Eventually I realize, my breaths are matching Isaac’s and I drift off into a blissful sleep with warm, strong arms holding me close.
When Sparks Fly (Sexy Secrets Book 2) Page 4
