His hand rests against the side of my neck, and I wrap my legs around him as he thrusts deeper; harder. It’s building, I can feel them, those tingles that are already working their way through my body, growing in intensity until they explode out of me, and I throw my head back and let it all out; all the frustration, all the pain and fear, it’s spilling out of me as I hold onto him. And when it’s over I keep my eyes closed; keep my forehead pressed against his, my fingers still digging into his upper arm, and all I can hear is the sound of our breathing and the faint voices of the guards outside.
My legs fall from around him and he lets me go, stepping back as I slide down from the counter.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes locking on mine, and my stomach lurches; my heart beats that little bit faster, every fucking cliché in the book is running wild inside my head, and when he looks at me all I want is for him to pull me into his arms and hold me. Protect me. Keep me safe from the life I’ve chosen to live, I need that from him. Or do I just need him? “And that, what just happened there, I don’t regret it. I don’t.”
I tilt my head slightly, giving myself a second or two to think. To get my messed-up head straight.
“Do you, Olivia? Do you regret what we just did?”
I shake my head, because I don’t regret what’s just happened. I think it’s something that’s been waiting to happen for longer than either of us wants to admit. “No.” I glance down at the broken crockery and grilled cheese sandwiches strewn all over the floor. “We should probably tidy this up. Best we don’t have Celine asking questions when she gets here in the morning.”
“I’m sorry.”
I look at him, and I frown. “For what? Breaking the plates, or fucking me?”
“The plates.”
I smile at him, and he returns it, and for a blissful, peaceful moment I pretend this isn’t complicated. I pretend we’re just two people who’ve finally found each other; who’ve been thrown together by tragedy and a twisted kind of fate because this man here in front of me, he's beautiful and kind and I think I’ve been fighting feelings for him for a long, long time.
“There’s a dustpan and brush underneath the sink. I’ll grab that, you get the trash bags, they’re in the drawer beside the fridge.”
We start to clean up, both of us avoiding making the next move because I’m not sure either of us knows what that actually is. And when we’re done we stand there, observing the newly-cleaned kitchen, neither of us knowing what to do next.
“We should probably get some sleep,” I whisper, breaking the silence. “Alone.” Even though I want him in my bed. I want to sleep in his arms and wake up with him there beside me. And these are feelings that I haven’t experienced since Javier, they’re weird and alien and taking some getting used to, which is why we need to take a step back and think about what we’re doing. I think we need to do that, even if it’s not something I want.
Lucca reaches for my hand, and I let his fingers interlace with mine, a warm shiver rushing up my spine as he squeezes my hand tight. “This wasn’t a mistake, Olivia.”
“I know.”
And then he lets go of me, and walks away, out of the kitchen, he doesn’t look back. I stay where I am, and let the enormity of what’s just happened sink in…
Lucca
This wasn’t a mistake…
And I don’t regret what we did. I don’t. When I told her that, just now, I meant it. I meant it.
I can still feel her, her smooth skin touching mine, her warm breath on my neck, her soft, wet pussy gripping me so tight she almost clenched the cum out of me. The times I’ve dreamt about Olivia Delgado, they’ve been frequent. I used to watch her and Javier together and wonder what she felt like, what she tasted of. But I also knew that if he ever found out how I felt about his wife…
Sitting down on the edge of the bed I drop my head and drag my fingers back through my hair, sighing heavily. If Javier knew how I felt about Olivia, if he knew what we’d just done… Shit!
I should back off from this now, we can’t go there again. For all our sakes, I should never have let that happen, I should’ve been stronger, but I let a weakness that’s been lying dormant for Christ knows how long take over. I let my emotions get in the way, feelings I’ve been trying to suppress for so long – too long. She’s been a constant distraction I refused to ignore, this wild and beautiful woman, and tonight I let my guard down; let that moment of weakness out, and I can’t afford to have those moments, I can’t, and I knew that, and yet, I still went through with it. I still let it happen. Because I love her. I’m in love with Olivia Delgado, and that’s a very dangerous thing to be.
My phone rings out from my back pocket, and I pull it out; look at the screen. And I feel bile rise in my throat, but I swallow it down as I answer the call.
“Do we have a replacement For Jimmy?”
I sigh quietly as I get up and go over to the window, looking down on the guards patrolling the grounds. “It’s all in hand.”
“Good. How is Olivia?”
“She’s fine.” There’s a short pause down the line, and I rest my forehead against the cool glass, and close my eyes. “She’s doing good.”
“Honestly?”
It’s my turn to leave a moment’s silence, my eyes still squeezed tight shut, my heart picking up a heavy rhythm as that moment’s silence continues. Until he breaks it.
“I wish I could speak to her.”
Hearing his voice is a terrifying reminder of the lies and the games and the fact that I’ve just crossed a line I had no business crossing. When I told Olivia it wasn’t a mistake, sleeping together, I lied. It was wrong, so fucking wrong. It was the biggest, most dangerous mistake I have ever made, reckless beyond belief, I had no right touching her. No right to feel what I feel for her, she isn’t mine. She never was. She never will be. Not while Javier Delgado is still alive…
Nine
Olivia
I’ve tried to keep busy, tried to find distractions, but my head is full of him. I close my eyes and he’s there, it’s strange how suddenly he’s all I see. And I’m not sure that it’s healthy, for me to be this consumed by a man at a time when my head should be elsewhere – focused on ending the lives of those who took my husband’s.
Walking through The Garden’s busy dining room, I glance out of the window on my way to the terrace at the back of the restaurant, the larger of the two outdoor areas. And as I look outside I catch sight of the familiar black Jaguar pulling up across the street, and I feel my heart start to race as Lucca steps out of the driver’s side. Maybe he’s just stopped by for a cup of coffee, as he so often does, but I can’t help hoping that he’s come to see me. If he has, though, I’m not going to make it look like I’ve been waiting for him, even if, subconsciously, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
Heading out onto the back terrace I find Isla, The Garden’s manager, let her know about a flurry of deliveries that are coming tomorrow, and then I make my way back inside, to my office. And he’s already in there, leaning back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, his handsome face all smiles as I close the door behind me.
“Hey.”
His eyes meet mine, and I take a step back because just looking at him now, it messes with my head. “Did you want something?”
“Everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Trying to pretend like the feelings we have for each other don’t exist, it’s hard. But for some reason we both feel the need to keep up that charade, even though every fiber of my being wants to touch him. Wants him to touch me.
He peels himself away from the wall and comes toward me, and my breath catches in my throat, it’s like I’ve suddenly turned into some infatuated teenager, but I can’t ignore that that’s exactly how this man makes me feel. I can’t pretend that I don’t like it.
“I don’t know. We just haven’t had a whole lot of time together lately, that’
s all.”
I don’t want him to come any closer, and yet, I want him to come as close as he can. I want him to kiss me, something he hasn’t done since we had sex a few nights ago, he’s barely come near me since, and that’s both hurt and been a relief, all at the same time. I don’t think either of us really knows what to do next, I just know that I’m falling deeper in love with him. And it’s a different kind of love. What I felt for Javier, it didn’t feel like this. It wasn’t the same, Lucca isn’t the same even though, for so long, I thought he was. But that’s not true. He’s a very different man to Javier, and I love him.
God help you…
“We could make time, to be together?”
I phrase that as a question, because although I’m almost certain of my feelings for him, I’m still not entirely sure if what happened between us in the kitchen that night was borne out of love or lust. And that may just be my paranoia playing up, but I need to know. And then he breaks the stare, drops his head, and I feel my stomach jolt in the worst possible way.
“I’m sorry, Liv.”
“For what?”
He sighs quietly, and I can almost feel the regret seeping out of him, and it’s heartbreaking.
“I can’t do it.”
“Can’t do what?” I whisper, even though I already know what he’s going to say.
He looks up at me, and when his ice-blue eyes meet mine my stomach dips to the floor, and I’m suddenly blinking back tears. Angry, frustrated, confused tears.
“You’re beautiful and strong and everything I fucking want, Olivia, but I can’t have you.”
I stare at him, because no words are forthcoming, and as I look at him I know that everything I’m feeling for this man, it’s painfully real. And that’s devastating, it’s fucking cruel.
“It wasn’t a mistake, Lucca. You told me – you said it was something that was always going to happen, you said…”
“I was wrong. I got carried away, let my guard down, I was weak, Liv. And we can’t afford to be weak.”
“Javier’s gone, he isn’t coming back, and you aren’t betraying him. I’m not betraying him, there is nothing wrong…”
“There is. There is so much wrong with this.”
I quickly wipe a stray tear away, angry that I let it fall in the first place, I really didn’t want him to see me like this. This isn’t who I am.
It’s what you’ve always been.
Everything else is an act. A show. A warped reality…
“Don’t,” I whisper, shaking my head as he comes closer; reaches out to wipe another tear away and I grasp his wrist and pull his hand from my face. “Don’t.”
“Believe me, Liv, if the circumstances were different…”
It’s my turn to shake my head, turning it away, and I laugh a hollow, humorless laugh. “If the circumstances were different…” I repeat, deadpan. And then I forget the tears, I push the anger and the confusion aside, and I stare at him. I look right into his eyes. “What would you do, Lucca? Hmm? If the circumstances were different?”
He takes another step toward me, and he’s all up in my face now, his eyes burning into mine. “I would love you so fucking hard it would make your head spin.”
“But you’re too scared to do that, right? Too scared to be happy, to let yourself feel anything other than this pointless loyalty to a dead man.”
He wrenches his arm free of my grip and takes a step back, and I can see it in his eyes, the fear. He’s scared, and he can stand there and tell me he isn’t but he’d be lying.
“He was my best friend, Olivia.”
His voice is low, so quiet I have to strain hard to hear him. “And he was my husband, and I loved him with every breath in my body, but he’s gone, Lucca. He’s gone.”
He breaks the stare, turns his head away, his hands on his hips, and I watch as he takes a long, deep breath. “I can’t, Liv. I just – I can’t.”
“So, what are we supposed to do, hmm? Live out the rest of our days as though he were still alive? Because I can’t do that. I refuse to do that, I don’t see a reason why we have to do that.”
He doesn’t respond, he keeps his head turned away from me.
“Look at me, Lucca. Look at me, and tell me you don’t feel the same way I do.”
He shakes his head but I’m not having that. This man isn’t a coward, but he’s acting like one now.
“Look at me, and tell me you don’t love me.”
He waits another moment or two, and then he slowly turns his head, and the second his eyes lock on mine, we both feel it. That connection, that spark, it’s intense, and it’s pushing us toward the inevitable.
“Jesus, Liv…” he sighs, but his hand is on my hip, his fingers digging into me as he leans in, his lips brushing my cheek as he whispers in my ear. “I love you, so much, mi reina.”
“I love you, too,” I breathe, and it’s like my whole body just melts against his as his mouth touches mine, the kiss deep and long, taking me further and further away from this god forsaken world to a place of escape. A beautiful, perfect place…
“No.” He pulls away from me as though I’d just bitten him, taking about a dozen steps back, plunging his hands into his pockets. “No, Liv, I mean it this time. I can’t do this. I can’t do it, I’m sorry.”
I rake my hands back through my hair and watch him as he moves toward the door. “Why, Lucca?”
He looks at me, his head tipping slightly to one side, and his eyes are so sad, I’ve never seen him like this before, and it’s unsettling. Confusing. Terrifying.
“I just can’t,” he says quietly, reaching behind him for the door handle. “We need to forget this. For both our sakes, we need to forget this. Please.”
I don’t know what to say, it’s obvious nothing is going to change his mind, and I don’t know what it is he’s so scared of, why he can’t just be happy, he deserves that. We both deserve to be happy, and I just don’t understand why we’re denying ourselves that chance.
“It isn’t a good idea.” He steps into the open doorway, and when he looks at me I feel my heart break, a pain so real it hurts like hell. “Trust me.”
He closes the door, and I throw my head back and sigh. I’ve never felt so defeated, or alone. I’m so alone. And what scares me the most, now, is that being alone might be something I just have to get used to.
Ten
Olivia
I got the message. He made it crystal clear after that encounter at The Garden last week, and it’s changed things between us. Our relationship feels different, because we stepped over a line, and we can’t go back; can’t erase what happened. And while one of us wishes we could; thinks we should, I don’t want to forget.
Lucca was my lifeline. I’d genuinely thought that he’d be the one to make me finally believe I could move on from Javier, but instead he’s almost gone back to the person he was when Javier and I first got together – cool, professional, there to do his job and nothing more.
Outside on the terrace he’s standing alone, drinking coffee and staring out at the ocean, one hand gripping his mug tightly, the other in his pocket, and I stay in the doorway and watch him for a moment. And I don’t know if he’s finding it easy to pretend we didn’t have sex; that he didn’t tell me he loved me. That he didn’t hear me tell him I loved him. If he can do that then he’s dealing with this far better than I am. Me, I’ve been looking for distractions, losing myself in work, and there’s – thankfully – been a lot to keep all of us busy.
I’ve been spending a lot more time at the Devil’s Creed clubhouse than I probably otherwise would’ve done, but it’s given me the kind of distractions I’ve needed over these past few days, and even though Lucca is still by my side, still with me wherever I go, he hasn’t once stepped back from his duties as my faithful lieutenant, no matter what mistake he feels we might have made. But he’s kept his distance. Stayed close enough to make sure no harm comes my way, but no closer. At ti
mes it feels like I’m losing him, and I hate that. It scares me.
I walk over to him, crossing my arms, a silent warning to myself, almost, not to touch him. Don’t touch him, he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want me…
“You told me it wasn’t a mistake. After we had sex, you looked at me, and you told me it wasn’t a mistake. Did you lie to me?”
He angles his body, just slightly, so he can look at me. “We’ve been through this, Olivia.”
He’s right. We have. A brief, sensible discussion in the car on the way home from The Garden where he, somehow, made me believe that, yes, maybe it had been a mistake. And for a few days I believed he was right, believed that we were never really destined to have that kind of relationship. But as the days have worn on, I think he’s wrong. I think he’s lying not just to himself, but to me, too. It wasn’t a mistake, not in my eyes. It wasn’t. It felt right, he felt right. I think it felt like the start of something that had always been destined to happen, and I know he feels that, too. I know he believes that just as much as I do, he just won’t allow himself to go there, to feel what I feel, because he’s scared of opening himself up in that way. He’s been so used to shutting down his emotions that I think he’s terrified of finally setting them free.
“We need to talk, Lucca.”
He shakes his head and turns it away from me, his focus back on the ocean. “Now isn’t the time. Not today.”
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