He freezes just as my panting reaches the red alert mark. “Where the hell are your underwear?”
My eyes pop open and my lips pull into a sexy grin. “I’m not wearing any.”
“Obviously! Why not?” There’s an edge to his voice.
I shrug. “I feel sexy without them.”
He sits up and fastens his seat belt then shoves the car into reverse. “News flash, Vivian, you’re a walking wet dream in a sundress without panties or in a full suit of armor!”
Pinching my lips together I try to hide my smile. He doesn’t say any more until we’re parked on our street. Opening my door, he holds out his hand. Something tells me I’d follow this man anywhere.
He flips on the lights as we walk through the front doorway. “Did you get the extra warranty?” I gesture to his new phone charging on the counter.
Oliver turns to me with a soft smile. His gaze caresses my skin.
“How do you do that?” I whisper.
“Do what?”
“Make me feel everything with an invisible touch.”
He closes his eyes. In this moment I would crawl through the desert, drink the sand, and risk being eaten alive by snakes and scorpions, just to have one glimpse into his thoughts.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I rest my forehead against his chest.
“I’ll show you.”
Naked. I step from the pool of cotton at my feet. Lanky legs, bony hips, witchy hair, and a canvas of ink camouflaging the riddling of scars on my back, but it all disappears under his gaze. I see my perfection in his eyes.
He removes his shirt and grins. It’s a little cocky, a tad boyish, and a whole lot of sexy. I sit on his enormous bed, scoot to the middle, and cross my legs. Oliver looks at me with a wrinkle of question on his forehead.
“Keep going.” I bite on my thumbnail and grin.
He turns around, unfastens his pants, then slides one side down, looking at me over his shoulder while biting his bottom lip.
I giggle.
He eases the other side down.
Another sexy look back at me.
Another giggle.
He continues to make a meal out of undressing for me, and I eat every bit of it up—one deliciously teasing move at a time. Once he’s completely naked, he interlaces his hands behind his head and flexes his hard glutes for me. His whole body is cut to a beautiful perfection and his skin … flawless.
Oliver glances at me over his shoulder again with a playful grin that fades when he sees my face.
“Hey.” He turns and crawls up on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “What’s wrong?”
“You. You’re … confident and sexy and … perfect.” I swallow back my emotions. “And your skin, it’s—”
Oliver presses his finger to my lips and shakes his head. Then his lips replace his finger. Hands of gentle strength glide over my body one small curve at a time.
He’s showing me.
Somehow Oliver knows when words are inadequate. I feel his passion and carnal need harnessed with incredible control as he explores my body with his, bringing me to the edge. My body begs for his, every millimeter of space between us is unbearable.
“Oli … please!” My voice is breathless as his incredible lips brush over my nipples, up my neck, finding home with mine as he sinks into me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and I hold on. Oliver can take me anywhere.
Oliver
I’m in a bit of a quandary. The plan for my relationship with Vivian to remain solely physical is failing at a catastrophic level. The physical part is not even in this dimension. It’s as if she’s starving and I’m the only one in the entire world that has what she needs to survive. Will she wake up one day and realize that I’ve poisoned her? Will I survive if she does?
My nearly six and a half foot long body curls into a five by two foot space while Vivian sleeps in her greedy diagonal position across the bed. She was on top of me until I slid out at sunrise. My dad will be here soon anyway, but I can’t pass up the few spare moments I have to watch her sleep. I’m up to twenty eight on her freckle count.
“I can feel your stare,” she mumbles.
“Hold still, I’m not done.”
She cracks open one eye, but just a squint. “Done with what?”
“Counting your freckles.”
“Oh God!” She throws her arm over her face. “Yet, another undesirable trait of mine.”
I pry her arm away and kiss her freckled nose, cheeks, and then her full, delicious lips. I have to adjust my hard-on because she’s so damn sexy I can’t even think about her without standing at full attention.
“Vivian, I swear I’m going to make it my life’s mission to make you see that your brightness blinds the sun.”
She brushes her palms over my face. “I don’t deserve you.”
I kiss her and stand, slowly releasing her hand. “You’re right. You deserve better.”
“I like her.” My dad pants as he grips the water with his oars.
“I like her too.” I exert all my effort while extending my legs and flexing my arms. “Maybe too much.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“She’s so young and she doesn’t know anything about me.” I grind the words through clenched teeth as rivulets of sweat trickle down my face.
“What do you know about her?”
“She’s smart as a whip, has impeccable work ethic. She wants to take over the world, yet she doesn’t have a pretentious bone in her body.” I suck in another labored breath. “She’s kind with a childlike innocence, and seventy-five percent of her back is covered in third-degree burn scars that have been tattooed over.”
My dad stops and looks back at me. “I saw part of the tattoo near her neck and shoulders, but her hair covered most of it. I had no idea—”
I shake my head. “She fell into a campfire. God, Dad, it’s scarred her in more ways than one.”
He nods. “Have you met her parents?”
“No, of course as you know, they don’t live around here, but I don’t know if I’m ready to be that person in her life—as in, the guy she takes home.”
“You might be right, or you might be being a little hard on yourself. But she deserves the truth, Son. As much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, it doesn’t change what happened and all secrets get revealed in time.”
I take a swig of water and sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
I don’t think we make conscious decisions as to what images get burned into our brains. Some of mine will forever haunt me, but this one, I will take to my grave and save it for my next life too.
“Hey, Oli.”
Long bare legs extending beyond one of my Harvard Crimson T-shirts stretch out on my couch and cross at the ankles. That sexy mess of raven hair is piled in a knotted bun on her head, and she’s wearing black thick-rimmed glasses while reading a paper—an actual newspaper. This naughty school girl image is a keeper.
“What are you doing?” I ask, grabbing a glass of water without taking my eyes off her. Not that I could even if I wanted to.
“Reading the paper, specifically the business section. Why, what does it look like I’m doing?” She folds the top of the paper down and peers at me over the rims of her glasses.
“Where’d you get the paper? You know you can get all that info online now.” I drain my water, wiping the back of my mouth with my wrist.