by J. Saman
I chuckle. “I guess our chat will have to wait. Probably better since you likely wouldn’t have remembered it anyway.”
She doesn’t make so much as a peep.
Sliding one arm under her knees, the other around her back, I lift my pint-sized woman up into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She shifts, sinking against me, her face falling into the crook of my neck where she emits a content hum.
My lips press into the crown of her head, taking her sweetness in for a moment before carrying her down the hall in the direction of the guestrooms. I pick the closest one with the biggest bathroom and walk us to the bed. She stirs but doesn’t wake as I pull back the blanket and adjust the pillow, placing her delicately down and covering her up.
I run and grab the glass of water I had poured for her as well as two ibuprofen and set them both on the nightstand for her. Leaning in, I brush some of her strands back from her face, kissing her forehead. She grumbles something under her breath I can’t make out, turning over onto her other side and tucking in the way a small child would.
And for a moment, I can’t do anything other than stare at her.
At the woman who has managed to flip my world upside down in such a short amount of time.
“Do you know how much I’m starting to like you?” I whisper into the darkness, knowing she’s asleep and doesn’t hear me. “Do you know how much liking you like this scares the shit out of me? All of this is supposed to be fake but being with you… nothing has ever felt more real, and I have no idea how to make heads or tails of it.”
The only sound is the gentle push and pull of her even breathing. I don’t even know why I’m saying this. Why I’m allowing myself to even think it. The more I imagine her like that, the more my feelings for her solidify.
I scrub my hands up and down my face before dropping them to my hips.
“My brothers told me tonight to back off. To give you space and keep things platonic so I don’t hurt you. But I think they have that the wrong way around. I should do that, so I don’t get hurt. So I’m not such a fucking mess when you walk away. And you will walk away,” I tell her, absolutely positive in that. “I’m a lot to take on and I see it in your eyes every damn time you look at me. The second this arrangement is done, you’re gone.” Exactly as Nora said she’d be. “And me? I’m stuck. Hung up on you. A moth to your flame, desperate for your heat and light even if it burns me. So yeah. Maybe they’re right about that whole backing off thing.”
I take a step back and then another, forcing my words into action.
I need to protect us both.
Amelia is a woman who has been ravaged by the ugly side of life. Who was forced to make choices she had never intended for herself. Even before that, life wasn’t exactly kind to her. Or at least the people in her life weren’t. Has she ever had it easy? Has she ever had a day when she didn’t have to worry or feel scared or trapped? But she doesn’t let it diminish her light. She doesn’t let it steal her spark.
Maybe that’s why I’m so crazy about her.
We’re creating a world. A world of lies, yes, but a world for ourselves. A world where I get to see Amelia come to life in ways I’m not sure she ever has before. And in turn, she’s dragging me out of a shell I hadn’t realized I was living in. But is this a world I want to venture into when the shell I was tucked beneath was safe and easy?
I turn on my heel and shut the door behind me before walking across my dark apartment to my room. I strip down, back into my briefs, and climb into bed. Thinking about her. Wondering what made my sister and her friends stick Amelia in an Uber to come here and talk to me at this time of night.
What do you have to say, Amelia?
And what happens if it changes everything between us?
20
AMELIA
Until my dying breath, I will never tell Oliver that I wasn’t asleep when he thought I was. I heard every word. Felt every ounce of emotion pouring from him. Yes, I was drunk. But his confession somehow sobered me.
It also solidified my resolve.
It was like with all his fears and worries, mine evaporated.
I have no idea if he’ll go for this. If he’s too set in his ways to risk that level of change. Even for something he clearly seems to want.
Oliver is most definitely worrying enough for the both of us. It tells me he’s not going into this lightly. That he’s thinking of putting his heart back on the line and wants to do that with me.
I’d be a fool not to run toward him instead of away.
Something I know in the deepest parts of my soul could never happen despite what he thinks and speaks. Yes, he is a lot to take on. His wealth is daunting. It makes me uncomfortable in so many ways. Especially as a woman who has been used to struggling to pay her own way for so long.
But I can’t let our differences hold us back. Not anymore.
Even if he requires a push to get him there.
Sunlight streams through the window and across my face, bathing me in a warmth I want to curl into. My eyes scrunch tighter before slowly blinking open, adjusting at a snail’s pace, likely thanks to the alcohol leaving my system. I take in the water and ibuprofen he left for me and smile.
Yeah, Oliver, you’re something special worth fighting for.
I drink the water down, complete with pills and use the bathroom, wash my face, and brush my teeth with the spare toothbrush on the counter. Then I pad silently down the hall, already half lost in the size of this place, until I find his room. It’s dark in here, the shades drawn, and it takes a second for me to locate Oliver in his massive bed.
He doesn’t look like he’s wearing much under the covers, and I think that’s a fantastic idea. I slip off my leggings and glance down. The blouse I borrowed from Rina is long—she has a few inches on me at least—settling around my midthighs. I toe my panties off too, kicking them atop my leggings and then unhook my bra. Sleeping in a bra is never fun. My breasts gratefully relax, and I nearly moan at how good that feels.
They’ll feel even better in Oliver’s hands. I already know what those talented things are capable of when it comes to my girls.
Before I lose my nerve, I force one foot in front of the other, my heart thrashing in my chest like a rock band. Oliver either hears me or senses someone in his room because he rolls to his back, rubbing a hand over his face before jerking half up, checking the time on the clock on his nightstand and then snapping over to me.
“Hey,” he rasps in a sleepy voice that makes me shiver. He takes in my appearance quickly, blinking several times like he’s not sure what to make of any of this. “What are you doing?”
Anxious anticipation seals my lips shut; my words trapped on my tongue. Instead, I draw back the covers and, without invitation, climb in beside him. The bed is soft and warm, and smells like him. Like something spicy, fresh laundry, and sandalwood. It’s as if I’ve entered my own version of sensual heaven with the bonus of the man in it, staring at me with wide, wary green eyes.
“Amelia?” he questions as I slide across the bed until I’m directly beside him. I suck in a shaky breath, proud of how brazen I’m being, and force him onto his back while climbing over him, straddling his stomach.
My shirt covers everything, tucked between my legs, against my bare wet pussy, and I already know I’m going to have to not eat for two weeks so I can afford to buy Rina a new one. Oliver’s gaze eats me up, his hands slingshotting to my hips, holding me firmly in place.
He’s struggling. I can see it.
He genuinely thinks I’m going to let him get away with keeping his distance for both our sakes. I nearly laugh at that. My hand brushes through the dark strands of his hair, so soft and thick as it trickles through my fingers.
“I need words,” he says, voice hoarse, jaw tight. “Every time we’ve been together like this, you get very silent. I have no idea what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”
He’s right of course. Every time I’ve been anywhere close to
intimate with him, I lose my voice, my ability to speak. I’ve likely always been this way. The eternal wallflower. The quiet, reserved girl, miserably unsure of herself.
Not now. Not anymore.
“I like you,” I say, sounding like I’m Layla’s age, but not caring in the slightest. “I understand why you think you need to keep your distance from me. But I’m here to tell you I’m not gonna let you do it. I want you too badly to let you try.”
I rock against him, his abs hardening, flexing against me at the perfect spot, causing a moan to slip out. I wasn’t lying. I want this man fiercely. I want him to explore my body, knowing what it needs better than I do. I want him to seek out my heart, cherishing every thrum as it beats for him. I want him to learn the inner workings of my mind, understanding me in ways even I don’t.
I’ve played it safe for so long and I’m fucking tired of it. What is life without risk? Even if you get hurt in the end? And I already know, Oliver is a risk I will never regret taking. Even if we do eventually end in ruin.
Wild, desperate eyes cling urgently to mine. “Tell me that again.”
I smirk. “Which part?”
He licks his lips, eyes flickering to my hard nipples as they poke through the thin material of the blouse before they darkened with carnal desire. Then ever so slowly, they crawl up to mine, so goddamn intense my breath hitches.
“All of it,” he demands. “That you want me as much as I want you. That we’re done keeping our distance because distance between us is fucking stupid. Tell me you like me because I already know I like you more.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” With that, I reach down and slip the blouse over my head, tossing it away, leaving me completely bare before him, on top of him, spread open wide. “I want you, Oliver. I want this to happen. And maybe I should have prefaced myself before I took off my clothes, but this will not end the way last time did. I will not run off, because as I told you that night, I don’t do one-night stands. If we do this, we’re doing this.”
“We’re doing this,” he parrots, only he’s saying it with meaning. A promise. A bond.
And with that, he shoots up, capturing my mouth with his, his hands diving into my hair, grasping the back of my head. My arms snake around his shoulders, feeling hard planes of muscle, learning every inch I was too scared to the first go around.
His mouth ravages mine, hot and needy, messy as hell as we clash with lips, and teeth, and tongues. I’m unraveling around him, unable to think, only able to feel. His hard chest against me. His hands all over. In my hair, down my back, squeezing my ass, toying with my breasts. His cock thrusts up, hitting the juncture between my legs and causing me to cry out in sweet agony. His boxer briefs have to go. The fact they’re still on, covering what I need most from him, is driving me mad.
“Patience,” he hums into me, grasping my hand and pulling it away from the elastic waist of his charcoal briefs. “I don’t want to rush this.”
I groan. “Except I only have until noon. That’s when Landon is dropping Layla off back at home.”
Oliver chuckles against the skin of my neck. “Amelia, it’s not even nine yet. We have plenty of time. And then even more time because I will call Landon and have him drop Layla here instead of your place. I want you both to spend the day with me and then sleep over here tonight.”
“You do?”
He nods. “Yes, but can we not talk anymore about Layla right now?”
I glance down at his briefs, and he cocks a teasing eyebrow at me.
“Right. Sorry.” I give his dick a firm squeeze making him groan. “Better?”
“Much.”
My mouth attacks his again, unable to get enough. Rough whimpers tumble one after the other from my lips as he finds my breasts, lifting their weight in his large hands and squeezing them without mercy.
My head falls back, my eyes closing as I succumb to the sweet bliss as he forces me to straddle the line between pleasure and pain. Nipping, sucking, biting on my hard peaks and tender flesh. I grind against him, unable to stop the motion, the ache between my thighs growing almost unbearable.
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I cry out as he bites down harder. “Yes. Please.”
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers against me, licking with the flat of his tongue up my neck until I shudder. “Do you want me to sprawl you out on my bed and fuck you with my tongue until you’re screaming my name? Do you want me to tie your wrists behind your back and continue to punish these beautiful tits until you’re begging for my cock to fill you up? Do you want me to take you over to my window and fuck you against it so all of Boston can watch? Tell me, baby. Tell me and I’ll give you anything your beautiful body and mind desires.”
I think I just passed out.
I have no idea how to respond. Dirty talking son of a bitch nearly just made me come from his words alone. I can’t even. No one has ever talked to me like that. All the times I’ve had sex before him were in a dark room with little to no foreplay and sex that was over before it even started. Orgasms were few and far between. Dirty words and fantasies never even entertained. And yes, we’re talking with the ex who I thought I was in love with.
“I… yes?”
“To which part?”
“Um. All of it?”
He grins against me, pinching and twisting my nipple until I writhe, needing more. “Fuck, you like it rough, Amelia. My crazy, sexy girl who is so prim and proper on the outside is such a dirty, dirty girl on the inside.”
I glance down at his smoldering eyes, the darkest of jade green. “Is that a problem for you?”
“Baby, you have no idea how there for it I am. I want to do every wicked, dirty, sweet, and fun thing to you. You’re mine now. No one else’s. Only I get to do these things with you. Say it,” he commands, but there is something else there. Something he’s trying to hide but is betrayed in his eyes.
Nora cheated on him and then left him after he gave her everything.
I stare deeply into him, letting him see my soul. “Only you, Oliver Fritz. Only you.”
He growls, throwing me back onto the bed and immediately covering me with his body. His mouth comes down in a searing kiss with a hint of sweetness on the back end. The kind of kiss that stays with you long after it’s over. The kind of kiss you remember and hold on to because you know it might just be the best kiss you’ve ever had.
Oliver is greedy for me.
No one has ever been greedy for me like this before.
His lips trail down my neck, between the valley of my breasts, down my stomach until he’s staring up at me between my thighs, his hands parting them. “I decided for you,” he says with a devious grin. My eyebrows form a V of confusion until his tongue thrusts inside me and my head falls back on a moan. Suddenly it makes sense. He asked me what I wanted and fucking me with his tongue was on that list.
No complaints here.
My eyes close, body falling back, losing myself to a feverish intensity spiraling through my body. Oliver’s tongue is relentless, his lips too as he sucks on me. Eating me out like he has all the time in the world. His rough stubble scratches against my sensitive skin as he laps at me, his tongue taking long swipes like a man starving. He circles my clit before plunging back in and my hands fly above my head, grasping the blankets, balling them up in my fists as I hold on for dear life.
Sounds I have no control over escape my lips, tumbling from me as waves of pleasure threaten to consume me. I’m so close and he must sense it because he plunges his tongue in over and over again until I reach the highest crest and then he takes my clit and sucks on it. Hard. I cry out, screaming from the intensity.
My hands abandon the bed, finding the roots of his hair, and I hold on like my life depends on it as sparkling bolts of heat and electricity shoot through me, one after the other in a never-ending assault of erotic bliss.
I fall back onto the bed, my limbs heavy. A dopey smile hits my face along with a be
mused laugh. Jesus. “A girl can get used to that.”
He chuckles, kissing along my hip bones, over my belly button. “Good. Because you taste fucking amazing, and I plan on doing that again later. Watching you come undone like that is sexy as hell.”
“Mmmm.” That’s as much brainpower as I’ve got going right now.
“Now onto the rest of my plan.”
My eyes blink open to find Oliver above me, his face right there. His wet lips meet mine only to pull back immediately. I lick my own, tasting myself and he grins wickedly. “Why didn’t I act sooner? Why didn’t I kiss you when I was putting sunscreen on your shoulders at my graduation party? I wanted to. I wanted to do more than that.”
I blink, stunned by his words. “You did?”
“Amelia, I wasn’t lying when I said I used to get myself off to visions of you. I always saw you. I always liked you. I just thought you were too good for me.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “Too good for you? I was the nerdy scholarship girl. The one no one liked or cared about. You were Oliver Fritz. God of our school.”
He hitches up a shoulder like none of that matters. “You just seemed untouchable. Perfect in every way. I never knew how to talk to you, so I didn’t.”
My mind is reeling at this. His lips meet mine and then he’s picking me up, dragging me off the soft, warm bed. “What are you doing?”
“The second part of what I said only I’m not going to tie your wrists. I’ll have to do that another time because I’m going to need your hands to be free so you can hold on.”
“Hold on to what?”
He places me in front of the large windows in his room and then with the press of a button, the shades slowly rise up, sunlight streaming in inch by inch as does the city surrounding us.
“Oliver?” My voice trembles. He was serious? There are buildings. People, if they looked, could stare right into his window.
He takes my hands and presses them to the cool glass. “You’re gonna want to hold on.”
