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Oliver (This is Our Life Book 3)

Page 21

by F. G. Adams


  I scan the area and see our team, my brothers along with FBI agents, cleaning up the mess the Cabriccis brought to my land. Two agents are carrying a body bag, while another two are struggling as they drag Roman’s minion, Hogan, to an awaiting van.

  The impact of the circumstances and its meaning bear down on me. It’s finally over.

  “Hey, man. How ‘r ya holdin’ up?” Grady inquires as he walks up to the ambulance van where I’m located, like a sentry.

  “Doin’ okay, brother. Thanks for helpin’ out today. Hell, for the past few weeks. I’m forever in your debt,” I reply.

  Grady’s camouflage-painted cheeks are smudged, twigs and debris caught in various places on his fatigues.

  “Nah. It’s what we do, boyo. It just sucks I didn’t get to blow anythin’ up,” Grady’s boisterous laughter follows him as he walks off, taking leave.

  “Now, that’s one crazy motherfucker,” Keagan remarks as he comes up on my right.

  “Truth. Look, K. I was crazy back there. At my house. My mind was a mess. Ya feel me?” I respond, hoping that Keagan understands my struggle from earlier.

  “Nothin’ to it, man. But I will say, when this is all cleaned up, you and I are gonna have a talk, Ollie. One that’s long overdue. Ya feel me?” he banters back, and I understand his meaning.

  My relationship with Fallyn will highlight the topic of conversation. The fact I crossed the line.

  “Yeah, I got it. What happens now?” I ask him.

  “Santiago is handlin’ the logistics. He’s taking the fall for Fallyn. That way, the Cabriccis will no longer pursue. But we’ll need to watch out for a while. Just in case,” Keagan replies.

  “Right. So, she’s off the hook? I mean, can it really be that easy, K? What about his henchman?”

  “He’ll never see the light of day, Ollie. If he’s not dead before then. The FBI want information, and if or when he gives it up, he’s no longer of use.”

  Keagan’s comments should disturb me. All of this should cause me to flinch or pause. If I were normal.

  The fact of the matter is, the Cabriccis are on notice. They’ve fucked with the wrong crew. No more running. No more hiding. We will not go quietly into the night.

  “It’s time to make that call, Ollie,” Keagan says.

  His voice rallies me from my wondering thoughts as I brush my hand through my messed-up hair.

  “Yep,” I reply. I’m aware of his reference, and my scalp starts to tingle along with other limbs as the anxiety of what I have to do squeezes my last shred of control.

  “Go make the fuckin’ call, Ollie.”

  Keagan’s face lights up in aggravation as he finishes up, turns, and walks away.

  “Son of a bitch,” I whisper to myself, and my stomach churns.

  It’s the way of the Blackwood family. It’s always complicated. “Tit for tat,” Matilda’s warning jumps around my distracted brain.

  That was the deal. Matilda gave us everything we needed to help free Fallyn with one stipulation. Matilda demanded to know the minute it was finished. The moment it was all over.

  Keagan added his own agreement to the verbal contract; Jocelyn would be told as well.

  Reaching into my back pocket, I unbutton the clasp and remove my phone. Pulling up Matilda Blackwood’s digits, I glance over to where Fallyn is lying on the gurney in the open-doored ambulance. The doc must’ve given her a sedative, because her eyes are closed. Her placid state allows my nerves to settle. She’s finally resting.

  Before I chicken out, I push the number on the screen, and the phone begins to ring.

  “Hello,” Matilda’s tired voice rings into the earpiece.

  “Mrs. Blackwood. Ollie here. It’s done.”

  25

  Fallyn

  Winter is here. A light dusting of snow blankets the ground, signaling the new season, a new beginning for me. It’s been a month of recovering, mentally and physically. The newly added scars inside and out are a testament of my strength and belief that love triumphs all. A vivid reminder I am a survivor.

  The repercussions from that day are unknown. The implications for me mark the end of an era of running in fear.

  I survived Roman Cabricci.

  Oliver has been my rock while the nightmares from the past intermix with new ones. I wake screaming from them, but each and every time, Oliver is there, soothing me, calming me with his love.

  The slow process of healing stopped the growing intimacy between Oliver and me. He holds me, but with tender care, afraid to cause any pain to me. Even now, when I’m almost completely healed, he avoids touching me like the plague. I’ve decided enough is enough. I’m ready for my sexy cowboy.

  I smile watching Harper joke with her aunt. Grandma and Jocelyn arrived a few days after my attack. Just thinking about the reunion between my little cub and them has me teary eyed. Harper was at a disadvantage but quickly learned the art of being the center of attention.

  Grandma had something come up back in Lakeview and had to leave earlier this week. Jocelyn, Keagan, and the gang plan to stay through the holidays.

  “We’ve gotta do something with your wardrobe. Gothic is so not you, love bug,” Jocelyn says.

  “Not sure, Aunt JoJo. The look has grown on me the last few months.” Her gaze shifts toward the doorway. “Hey, Mac, what do you think? Should I go All-American Girl, or do you like me just the way I am?”

  “Doesn’t matter what the hell he thinks, Harper,” Oliver comments, striding into the room. “His opinion doesn’t count when it comes to you, little cub.”

  She shrugs and turns back around, unaware of the don’t-even-think-about-her stare Oliver is giving MacGyver. He clears his throat and walks into the kitchen.

  From the moment I met Paul Travers, I knew he would protect Harper. He’s one of the good guys. Just a gut instinct. She’s infatuated with him, a young crush that will run its course sooner or later.

  Oliver leans over me and plants a soft kiss on my puckered lips. I stifle a giggle.

  “Papa bear is territorial when it comes to his girls,” I whisper to him.

  “Damn straight, lil’ Vixen.”

  He sits down and lifts my feet into his lap, absently rubbing the soles.

  “I’ve got an idea, Jo. Why don’t you and the others take Harper shopping or maybe see a movie? I’m not up to going yet, but y’all could get out of here for the day.”

  “You know what? I think we can arrange a little shopping and a movie night. It’ll be so much fun, right, Keagan?”

  Jocelyn smirks, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Yes! I need some jeans. Hey, Aunt Jo, didn’t that new movie with Channing Tatum come out last week?” Harper chimes in.

  “Little cub,” Oliver says wearily.

  “Hell, no,” Keagan joins in. “Choose another movie, Harper. Something with bombs and shit.”

  “Well, don’t you think the other guys should go, too? For security and all?” I slyly interject.

  “Vixen.”

  Oliver looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles.

  “Better to be safe than sorry, right, Fallyn?” Jocelyn says, smiling like a loon.

  I wink at her. She’s finally on my wavelength. Thank you very much. Oliver for dessert, here I come. His self-imposed abstinence ends tonight.

  “So true, sister.”

  “Now, hold on a minute here,” Oliver demands.

  “Mac, round up the troops. We leave in thirty,” Keagan orders, walking out of the room. “Later, Ollie.”

  Harper jumps from her seat and runs for the stairs.

  “We’re going to the movies!”

  Jocelyn and I exchange a look. I mouth, “Thank you.”

  Thirty minutes later, the front door slams shut.

  “What in the hell was that? I feel like I’ve been railroaded. I don’t recall a time Keagan has ever volunteered to go near a mall, but he ran outta here like the devil was chasin’ him. Care to explain why?”

  I nonchalantly l
ift my shoulders and shrug.

  “That’s how you wanna play this, huh?”

  I smile seductively, curling my finger slowly.

  “C’mere, my sexy cowboy. I need you to love me.”

  “Fallyn, your body’s still healin’.”

  “My body is healed. I ache for you. Take me upstairs. Take me to bed. Please, Oliver, make love to me.”

  He looks at me, eyes full of concern and doubt. I extend my arms to him and wait. A few seconds later, I’m lifted into powerful arms. I circle mine around his neck and let him carry me up the stairs into our bedroom without protesting.

  Since the attack, Oliver has insisted this is our home, our sanctuary. He gently puts my feet on the carpet and backs away.

  “Where you off to now? I don’t need a nap. I need something more.”

  “Lose the clothes and get on the bed. I’ll be right back, baby.”

  Stunned by his quick turnaround, I miss the chance to reply before he’s left the room. I quickly undress and sit cross-legged on the bed, waiting for Oliver.

  He returns carrying a platter of fruits, glasses, and a bottle of wine. He puts them on the side table and walks over to the entertainment center. Soft music fills the room.

  He turns to me. In slow motion, he unbuttons the dark green oxford shirt and let’s it slide off his muscular shoulders to the floor, revealing his gorgeous firm chest.

  He flicks the button on his jeans open. My eyes zero in on his washboard abdomen and the light dusting of hair below his belly button. My mouth waters; an electric wave of desire pulses over my skin.

  “You’re so beautiful, Fallyn. Sittin’ there naked on our bed. Your creamy skin flush with desire. The way your breasts pebble at the slightest touch of air. The creamy silk at the junction of your thighs protected by the small strip of blond hair."

  His husky voice is driving me insane. I want to touch him. Feel him.

  "I'm hungry for you. These last thirty-four days have been the longest of my life, Vixen. Sleepin' next to you. Holdin' you so close, night after night. It's drivin' me crazy. I’m off kilter. The smell of vanilla. Your sweet little sighs.”

  He shakes his head; clearing the cobwebs.

  "Oliver, I love you."

  "I love you, too. More than you'll ever know. Know this absolutely, baby. I'm never lettin' you go. Never gonna stop lovin' you. I'll spend the rest of my life makin' you happy. 'Cause when you’re happy, Fallyn, the world’s a better place to live in. The future's brighter than the Northern Star. And my soul, well, lil’ Vixen, my soul's at peace. Understand I’m tellin’ you the truth of my heart. You get me?"

  I nod emphatically, my heart swelling at the magnitude of his words.

  "Fallyn Blackwood, I just gotta know." He moves directly in front of me and gets down on his knees. His desire-filled gaze speaks to my soul, calling me to him, to this moment. His closed palm extends, and he opens his fingers one by one to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring.

  "Will you marry me?"

  "Marry you?" I whisper. My eyes are glued to the ring in the palm of his hand.

  "Yeah, baby. I want you to be my wife. What do you say? Wanna get hitched?"

  "Hitched?" I ask, my voice laced with annoyance and humor.

  He moves his chin up and down, a beautiful grin on his handsome face. He patiently waits for my response. I look at him and then at the ring and know my answer.

  "Are the terms negotiable? Unlimited chunky monkey ice cream and key lime pie are a must, cowboy. Oh, yeah, and I want my own gun. You cook every other night. Maybe we can get a few horses? Harper gets to date when she's ready."

  "Yes to everything but Harper dating. I'm not sure I can handle that right now. Maybe a few years down the road or somethin’."

  "She's been held back all her life. This is her chance to be a teenager."

  "I want to be her father. I want her to carry my name, Fallyn."

  "I... uh..."

  "I plan to talk to her, but I need your blessing first. We're building our family. You, me, and Harper, and any other little ones we decide to have.”

  I wince. “I’m not sure that’s possible…having more children.”

  “Fallyn, quit your frettin’; let’s cross that bridge when we get there. Until then, let’s take one day at time, baby. One day at a time.”

  “M’kay, Ollie. I’m with you. Now, c'mere. I need you."

  “Harper and…?” he lifts the ring.

  I raise my left hand and wiggle my ring finger. “Yes to both."

  He inches the diamond solitaire down my knuckle to its new forever home. He looks up at me, love radiating from him.

  “You know you’re the ‘pow’ in my ‘wow’, Fallyn Blackwood. You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

  “You don’t say, stud? Well, you’re the honey in my pot, Oliver Bishop. Now, come feed this starving bear.”

  I wink, motioning him closer.

  He crawls on all fours to me, blanketing my naked flesh. His pupils dilated with lust. The pads of his fingers gently touch the scar on my brow. He bends down and places soft kisses over it.

  “Gonna make love to my soon-to-be wife, my fiancée.”

  “Enough talk, Oliver. More action,” I sass back.

  He chuckles and continues his exploration to the spot behind my ear. Soft, tender kisses trail the length of my neck, down the center of my chest. I close my eyes in bliss when his hot mouth captures my breast and suckles. The other hand massaging the other one elicits a moan of need from my lips.

  “Perfect strawberries ripe for the pickin’,” he hums and licks the tip of my nipple, hardening the bud to a fiery ache. “Sweet and juicy, baby. Just for me.”

  I’m writhing with longing from the effect his touch is causing. Badly needing him to feed the fire forming deep inside my starving body.

  Unhurried and on a quest, hot breath caresses the slope of my breast, teasing and taunting the swollen twin peaks. It’s been too long. I’m at home with this man.

  "Not gonna rush, baby. I'm gonna savor every second, every minute. We've got a lifetime. Begins tonight."

  Sheer pleasure rockets through me, causing my womb to contract in need as he travels down the valley of my body, placing wet kisses and little nips. My stomach muscles tense, wanting him to hurry. Needing him to touch the one place he's dancing around but doesn’t breach. I arch my back off the bed, spreading my legs wider. Inviting him. His body cradled.

  "Touch me, Oliver. I need you."

  “I am touching you, Fallyn. What do you want?”

  “You know what I mean, Oliver.”

  “Here?” he asks, caressing a fingertip along the side of my hip.

  “No,” I protest. “But you’re getting warmer.”

  “Maybe…here?” he playfully asks, placing feathery touches on my inner thigh.

  “Getting hotter.”

  “How about here?”

  I shiver at the velvety touch of his tongue when he slowly licks my weeping opening.

  “Better?”

  “God, yes!”

  His talented tongue finds the swollen nub. I’m thrown into a whirlwind of sensual awareness, only anchored by Oliver’s unbending hold across my hips. My legs draw up, desperate to move, trapped by his giant body. My movement doesn’t falter his slow and steady pace.

  The gradual build of pleasure sends a cascade of warm tingles over me. He unhurriedly inserts a finger. In. Out. In. Out. It’s been so long. A second finger pushes through the tight, tender folds, and undeniable pleasure rocks me.

  On forearms and knees, he lazily crawls the length of me, worshipping dips and crevices missed, branding his mark on my sensitive skin. Plump lips connect with mine, continuing at the leisurely pace. Oliver kisses my cheek and the scar above my brow.

  Gently, I move the loose strains of hair falling over his forehead to the side. Our eyes connect. How can one look from him melt me? The silky touch of his cock at my entrance stops, only the crown breaching. The muscles in my pussy
ripple and clamp down, unable to pull him deeper.

  “I love you, Fallyn,” he vows.

  “I’m yours, Oliver. All of me. I love you,” I promise.

  Slow, methodical thrusts beckon small pulses around his throbbing shaft as he enters my pussy. Quaking muscles solicit a sexy growl from his delicious lips. He doesn’t let up, his gaze piercing my soul until he’s buried balls deep in my satin warmth.

  Contentment floods me. I belong. He’s my home. My haven.

  Desire smolders in his loving gaze, tethering me securely to his beautiful soul. This is our moment. This is our life. The beginning of our forever.

  We stare at each other. Our bodies intimately joined. Somewhere deep inside me a red-hot desire of need blooms to monumental proportions.

  With every drawn-out stroke, every intake of breath, every uplift thrust to meet him, my body winds tighter and tighter, ready to spring.

  Oliver plays me like a master musician, harmony and melody balanced to perfection. Building the crescendo to a pulsing tempo one stroke at a time. Driving me wild with his expert touch.

  His palms cup my cheeks, and his thumb caresses my bottom lip. His rhythm remains the same as he pumps in and out. Building our passion to unbelievable heights. Every nerve ending tingles at the knowledge he’s mine.

  I’m on the edge, ready to fall into him. My toes curls from the onslaught of divine pleasure. I’m drifting on pure bliss as my body convulses from the most powerful orgasm I’ve experienced.

  Oliver slides almost out of me, then drives forward one last time.

  “Fallyn.”

  His body trembles above me. I hold him tight, caressing his muscular back. Moments later, he slides from the snug haven, falls on his back, pulling me along with him. He adjusts me until I’m snuggled close to him.

  My head is cradled on Oliver’s chest. His eyes are closed and relaxed. His breathing even as he falls asleep. My fingers tenderly caress the five-o’clock shadow along his jaw. I glance at my hand and his ring. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. He loves me. I say a silent thank you to the man upstairs for sending Oliver to me.

 

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