by Jennifer Rae
He stopped. Someone crashed into them and apologised in the English way of apologising even when they weren’t at fault.
‘You wanted it as much as I did, Olivia.’
Olivia pulled her hands away from his. She moved so he wasn’t near her, so her brain couldn’t cloud over with his scent and the way he looked and how he made her feel.
She turned to go, furious that she’d been stupid enough to really believe that when they were together he thought she was more. Something else. Something more beautiful, more wonderful than she really was. But he was like all the rest. She was just the girl you grabbed at the end of the night, when all the pretty ones had been snapped up.
His long fingers around her forearm stopped her. ‘We’re not done here.’
Her heart pumped. The blood rushed in her ears.
‘I’m done. I’m done with people thinking they can take what they want from me. I’m done with allowing everyone to make me feel stupid and inappropriate, and I’m done with accepting lies from men who don’t really want me.’
He breathed heavily. Another couple bumped into them and apologised but Olivia didn’t feel it. All that existed was him and her, and a bubble formed around them as he considered her words. She could see his brain thinking behind those dark eyes. His hand held her tight and she couldn’t move. She was trapped.
‘I do want you. Very much.’
‘Don’t tease me, Edward.’
‘I’m not teasing you.’ He pulled her back in and his feet started to move. His eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘I want you. Even if you make me lose control. Even if I can’t think of anything else when you’re around.’
He spun her again with that move that she loved. The one where his knee pressed right up against her hot, wet centre.
‘I want you.’
‘You want me for a one-night stand.’
He spun her again, angrily this time, and she had to let her feet leave the ground so she wouldn’t fall. He had hold of her around the small of her back and he pressed her even closer.
‘You want to know why I’m angry all the time? I’m angry because all you want is a one-night stand. I’m angry that I can’t stop thinking about you—all the damn time. You’re smart and funny and sweet, Olivia, and you have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.’
He thought she had a beautiful smile? What a lovely thing to say. No, she was mad at him. Mad.
His head dipped and his lips came closer to hers. She watched the outline of them. He had a small freckle right below his lip. She stared at it hungrily. Wanted to kiss it. No. She couldn’t trust him.
‘I’m sorry I lost control behind the stairs, Olivia. I should have waited,’ he murmured as his hot breath passed over her eyes, closing them briefly. ‘But I couldn’t wait. You’re so gorgeous—I couldn’t wait.’
He was serious. He thought she was gorgeous. And for the first time in her life she felt gorgeous. And strong. She dragged her eyes from his lips and pushed her shoulders back.
‘I want the truth, Edward.’ Her voice was a whisper; she heard the crack in it.
He moved even closer. So close she could feel the steady thumping of her heart against his.
‘The truth is you captivate me, Olivia. I want you. I want to be with you.’
Olivia felt it. Felt his heart against hers and knew he was telling the truth. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
He was telling the truth; Olivia could see it. She could feel it and as she watched him, the barbed wire surrounding her began to fall. Her mother’s lack of attention, her sister’s unbeatable achievements, her best friend’s abandonment. None of it mattered. She was gorgeous to him. She was...what had he said? She captivated him. To him she was captivating.
With all the energy she had left, she lifted her arms around his neck and he pulled her off the dance floor. Edward found a dark corner and gently pushed his lips against hers. They were smooth and soft, and when they parted Olivia sighed and let him in. She held him close and breathed him in. She shifted so she could be closer to him and his tongue moved inside her mouth, searching for hers. He occupied her mind and her mouth and her body and she wanted him there. She wanted him to know her—all of her—and she wanted to know him.
‘I want to be with you too.’
He smiled and her heart pounded. ‘Good, because I’m not letting you go. I’m not giving you another chance to change your mind...or find someone else.’
Olivia soared. He really did want her. As much as she wanted him.
‘We’d better get back to the dance floor. Fiona might be looking for me. We’re supposed to be out there having fun.’
‘We could be here having fun,’ he said, kissing her deeply again.
She smiled and her heart swelled as if it actually believed. As if it really thought this was real. With a final check that her dress was where it should be Olivia followed Edward back onto the dance floor.
There was a little whispering behind hands and a couple of sidelong glances—mostly from Bunny and Rosie—but Olivia didn’t care. Edward danced with her all night. And when he wasn’t dancing with her he was smiling at her. And when he wasn’t looking at her she was looking at him. Amazed that this was real. He wanted her. He wasn’t going to leave. At least not tonight. And maybe not tomorrow either.
That kiss hadn’t felt as if it was a one-night kiss. It felt like something more, and for the first time in a long time she felt that maybe she’d like to see more of a man and perhaps he felt the same way about her. Captivated.
By midnight her feet were aching and her hair had all but come down over her shoulders. It had an annoying natural curl to it that she usually straightened to within an inch of burning it off, but today Fiona had wanted her hair natural. Now it hung down her back in kinks and curls, but she didn’t care. Edward had run his fingers through it when they danced. He’d buried his nose in it when he’d sat next to her and told her how good she smelled. And he’d looked at her as if she was the most beautiful girl in the room.
Olivia had never felt better. She’d never felt this happy and this relaxed and this comfortable in her own skin. She’d spent weeks worrying about this weekend. But she’d had no idea how much it would transform the way she thought.
TWENTY-TWO
‘We’re leaving, darling. Thank you so much for being here for me.’
Fiona reached up to kiss Olivia’s cheek and Olivia hugged her back with a smile. She was happy for her friend. Happy she’d found love and her life was about to begin.
‘Come and catch the bouquet.’
Olivia stopped.
‘No, no. That’s not for me.’ A cold trickle passed through her. A weekend of romance she could do, but marriage made her nervous. She definitely didn’t want to catch that bouquet. She didn’t want to do anything that might break the tenuous string that bound her and Edward tonight. What if he thought she was one of those girls who were dying to get hitched and ran from her again? No, she was staying right out of this one.
But Fiona pulled her to the front of the reluctant crowd of participants anyway. With a squeal, Fiona hoisted the bouquet and the older women on the sidelines called out.
‘Catch it! Grab it!’
Olivia looked up. It was heading straight for her. Nope. Not this black cat. Olivia stepped sideways and apparently so did everyone else, because the bouquet landed with a thud on the floor. The dozen or so girls dressed in varying shades of silk and satin all stared at it as if it were a bird fallen dead from the sky.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, you bunch of cissies!’ Bunny stepped forward and hoisted the bouquet in the air with a fist-pump. A loud cry went up and the crowd clapped before she ran and threw her arms around a surprised Casper.
When the time for the garter toss came it seemed the men were as reluctant
as the women. Marriage had become like a reality TV show. Great fun to watch, but no one actually wanted to be on it. Finally Will managed to drag a few men forward, including a reluctant Ed, who looked at Olivia and winked.
That wink ran straight through her body, touching every sexual organ she had. And some parts she was sure weren’t meant to be sexual but now felt as if they were. She knew what that wink meant and it had nothing to do with the garter. It had everything to do with the fact that this toss meant the night was nearly over and they could be alone. Be together. Olivia’s heart raced and her palms went damp. Relax. You’ve done this already. He won’t be disappointed. He won’t leave.
She calmed herself as the men jostled each other. She could practically feel the rising testosterone levels in the room. None of these men might want to get married, but none could resist the primal call of a gladiator-esque battle. Even if it was for a frilly little piece of lace.
A loud manly cry meant the garter had been tossed. The men scrabbled for it. There were punches thrown, choice words used, and finally the victor stood tall, the garter aloft.
Edward.
Smiling wide, as if he were eight years old and had won the hundred-metre sprint at the school athletics carnival.
The crowd cheered and he received many pats on the back before the crowd dispersed and he moved to Olivia’s side, murmuring in her ear, ‘I know of a good use for this.’ He reached over her shoulder and placed the white garter in her outstretched palm.
She didn’t move, just enjoyed the heat of his mouth at her ear and the burn of his fingers against hers. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. Want to come and see?’
‘Come where?’
He stopped for a moment and then breathed into her ear. ‘To my room.’
She closed her eyes. His room. They were really going to do this. Start something.
She was suddenly nervous. ‘I’m not sure if...’
He leaned down to her ear again and rested his hands on her shoulders. ‘I have an en suite shower in my room.’
A shower! She’d kill for a shower. An honest-to-God shower-head she could put her face under and let the water run over her shoulders. Sex with a handsome man and a shower. How could a girl resist?
She put her hand behind her, brushed the bulge in his trousers and found his hand. ‘Take me to your lair.’
With a deep, dark chuckle he gripped her hand and finally pulled her away from the maddening crowd.
* * *
He did have a shower. An awfully big shower. A shower built for two. The nerves in Olivia’s stomach were jumping so much she felt sick. And dizzy. His hand held hers as he led her past the doorway to the en suite and over to the enormous four-poster bed in the middle of the room.
‘This room is enormous.’ She didn’t know what to say. She just wanted to keep talking.
His fingers slipped through hers and lifted to trail across the neckline of her dress.
‘It is,’ he said, his eyes direct and his mouth unsmiling.
‘Is this the room you slept in when you were growing up?’ She wanted to turn away, move away as he stepped even closer, but she couldn’t. His eyes held her steady.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s nice.’
He stayed silent, his eyes flicking to her lips and then back again to meet hers. He held them for a second before he bit his bottom lip. Olivia watched it. Memorised it. His mouth. His lips. Then his tongue as it darted out to lick the place he’d bitten. Torture. She couldn’t breathe. She needed space. This was all happening so fast. She wasn’t ready. A one-night stand she could do—but more? Could she really do more?
‘I...I’d kill for a shower.’
His eyes lifted again and finally he smiled.
‘There are towels in the vanity. Help yourself.’
She had to look away from him. She had to get away from him. She was scared and had no idea why. She wanted this. She wanted him. She’d asked for this so why was she hesitating? Why was she stalling?
The bathroom door clicked behind her and she let out a breath. This was insane. A beautiful man was here, wanting her. Wanting more of her. She should be jumping into his arms, not hiding in the bathroom. But here she was. Hiding.
Olivia shrugged out of her dress and turned on the water. The shower-head was one of those non-environmentally friendly ones that shot out buckets of water. Olivia was glad of it as she stepped in, letting the hard beads rain down over her shoulders and her back. Instinctively she put her head under, then froze. When she emerged she’d be wet. Her make-up would be washed off and her hair would be frizzy. He’d see her as she really was.
A shudder ran through her naked body and she turned the heat up even more. She wasn’t ready for this. She’d never shown a man the real her. Not once. But here—in Edward’s room—there was nothing to hide behind. If she stepped out of that bathroom he’d see everything. What would he do? Run?
‘Olivia? Are you all right? Do you need anything?’
Yes. She needed to get out of here. Escape. Find some man who only wanted her for five minutes. She knew what to do with those men. Get angry at them, laugh with her girlfriends over them and move on. She didn’t know what to do with one who wanted to stick around.
‘I’m fine. Don’t come in.’
A pause. ‘I wasn’t going to. Are you sure everything’s all right? You sound...unsure.’
The concerned inflection in Edward’s voice hit her in the stomach. Disregarding their first meeting, Edward had shown nothing but kindness to her. Kindness and some kind of strange, haunting desire for her. She could feel it every time they were in a room together. She could see it when he looked at her or when he held her hand to keep her steady.
She’d accused Edward of not being honest. But she was wrong. Edward was being honest with her right now. He wanted her and he wanted her to be all right. This was the type of man she deserved. This was the type of man she’d been waiting for.
She stood taller in the shower and pushed her shoulders back. The water ran down her face, washing off every last bit of make-up, leaving her exposed. She wanted him to see her like this. She needed him to want her when she was like this.
* * *
Edward stared at the naked and dripping wet woman standing in the doorway. Her hair was pulled back off her face and her athletic body was before him—curving in at all the right places, her breasts full and her nipples standing out. The sight of her made every thought in his head immediately disappear. He slapped his tongue on the top of his mouth, trying to make his eyes move to hers.
She thrust out a wet arm and pulled him. He almost stumbled. Almost. Once inside the steamy bathroom his senses returned. The heavy rush of the shower beckoned to him. His shoulders tensed and with painful clarity he realised he’d gone rock-hard.
He knew Olivia had been nervous earlier, but from the way she was looking at him and the way she was pressing her body along his he knew she wasn’t nervous any more. The wild animal in him roared again.
He had to keep a steady head. This time he had to slow down. Let her catch up.
Slowly and gently he ran his hands up the sides of her body. Along her hips and into the curve of her waist. His hands were getting wetter and his shirt was soaking but he kept going. His eyes connected with hers and they were darker. Blue rimmed with black and greedy. For this. For him. He couldn’t wait. She moved, shifting against him, and he had to suck in a steam-laced breath.
Not yet.
‘Do I look...all right?’ She smiled nervously.
An inarticulate grunt escaped from his chest. Did she look all right? Was she serious?
‘You look unbelievable.’ She was killing him. Carefully he put his arms on her shoulders, hoping the action would calm her. Hoping it would calm him too. ‘You’re beautiful.’
The smile on her face froze.
‘I know I’m not beautiful, Edward. You don’t have to say that.’
‘I told you once I never say anything I don’t mean and it’s the truth. Your eyes, your mouth...’ He let his eyes linger on her big, bouncy bottom lip. He wanted to put it between his teeth. ‘Your breasts, your stomach...’ He ran his hand down her body until he reached the slick opening he knew she liked him to touch. ‘You’re beautiful everywhere. Especially here...’
She sucked in a hiss and her head fell onto his shoulder. Control, he reminded himself. Stay in control.
‘Wait till you meet my sister—then you’ll know what beautiful is.’
He removed his hand and gripped her shoulders. ‘I don’t want to meet your sister. Don’t you understand. Olivia? It’s you I want. You.’
The eyes looking up at him were wide and he suddenly realised the truth. She really didn’t know she was beautiful. Somehow she had the idea in her head that she wasn’t. But right here, right now, she was bare to him. She’d let him in. She’d let him see the real her. He lifted his hands to place her head between them.
‘You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Olivia.’ They weren’t just words. He meant it. He’d only known her for a few days but she’d shown kindness and compassion and understanding and comfort. Yes, this woman was beautiful. And he had to show her. He had to make her feel the way he felt.
He lifted a hand and pushed his thumb roughly over her lips before dipping his head and tasting them. Sweet and full. He kissed her bottom lip and she swayed towards him. He kissed her top lip and she moaned.
Her eyes were closed; she was feeling it now.
Now he had to touch her. A droplet of water slid from her chin down her neck. He chased it with his tongue. Closing his eyes and tasting her skin before finding another drop and chasing it down her chest to the valley between her beautiful breasts. He wanted to taste this woman. Feel her skin and remember it.
She let out a hiss and arched her back. Now she was really feeling it. And he had to feel those gorgeous breasts. He cupped one, all the while watching for her reaction. A small smile spread across her lips, so he flicked the hard pink bud with his thumb. Her body vibrated. He could feel it again—that uncontrollable white-hot urge to push her against the wall—but he stilled it. Calmed it and let it coil in his gut. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold on.
