by Alice Raine
Oliver barked out a laugh, then took a bite of the toast and gave a gentle roll of his hips which hit every sensitive spot perfectly and had me moaning and wrapping my arms around his neck.
‘Well here’s our conundrum, because I need to eat, but I also need to fuck you,’ he explained in a completely serious tone. ‘My meeting this morning is very important, I can’t miss it, and I need to leave soon, so we’ll have to multi-task.’
Seriously? Judging from the look in his eyes, he was deadly serious. The toast was still hanging in front of my lips, so I hesitantly took a small nibble and was immediately rewarded with a thrust of his hips. Taking another bite got me the same result, and I groaned as I swallowed.
That was how he was going to play this, was it?
Over the next few minutes it became blindingly obvious that yes, it was exactly how Oliver was going to play it, and every bite of food I took was rewarded with a thrust of his hips. It was far less vigorous than last night, but with his skilled rolls, thrusts, and grinds, I was soon approaching a climax.
Oliver popped the final bite of toast into his mouth. After swallowing it, he leaned forwards and licked my lower lip, removing a trace of jam then kissing me deeply.
He shifted his hands to my hips, and his moves became more urgent – still gentle, but just a little quicker – and it was all I needed to send me over the edge. I suppressed my cry of pleasure by kissing him deeper and gripping at his shirt until it was a crumpled mess in my fists. Pleasure exploded in my system, and my channel clamped around him, and in response Oliver growled into my mouth and began to circle his hips before suddenly pressing forwards and stilling as I felt his cock twitch and jerk with his own release.
He worked us both down with several slow rolls of his hips then lifted his head so he could join our gaze. ‘Well, that certainly beats eating breakfast at my desk,’ he commented, his eyes twinkling wickedly. He grabbed some kitchen roll, gently eased himself from within me, wiped us both clean and zipped up his trousers again.
‘Perhaps we should move you in, then I could enjoy mornings like this every day.’ The words were said so casually that, at first, I found myself agreeing and nodding happily. But then it hit me what he’d actually said.
Move me in?
What? Woah. He couldn’t mean that, could he?
I must have looked shocked, because Oliver gave a small shrug and made an attempt at straightening out his scrunched shirt. ‘Don’t look so panicked. It was just an idea, but I’m a patient man, I can wait.’ As easily as he’d said it, Oliver seemed to dismiss the idea, turning from me and pulling on his jacket before moving our plate to the dishwasher.
‘We’ll leave in about ten minutes, so you’ve got time for a shower if you’re quick.’
He continued to tidy around, wiping the counter and humming under his breath, but as I wobbled my way upstairs to the bathroom I couldn’t quite dismiss his comment as easily.
Once I’d had a speedy shower and dressed, I returned downstairs to find Oliver by the front door, fiddling with his phone. He didn’t mention the “maybe we should move you in” comment again, and so neither did I, although I couldn’t deny that it certainly lingered in my mind.
The drive back was surprisingly quick at this time of the morning, and when we arrived back at my flat Oliver insisted on walking me up to my door because it was still quite dark outside. I’d like to think this was just because he was a gentleman, but I was pretty sure it had more to do with how overwhelmingly protective he was of me these days.
Not that I was going to complain. After the Dominic situation, it was kinda nice to have my very own drop-dead gorgeous guardian angel.
Once again, Oliver laid one of his stunning parting kisses on me. Then he set off, leaving me in a lusty, loved-up bubble and staring at him as he went.
Oliver was halfway down the corridor when he turned and glanced back at me, grinning when he caught me watching him. ‘Hey, before I forget …’ He dug into his trouser pocket and pulled something out before tossing it in my direction. ‘Catch!’
I did catch it, just, lurching forwards and engaging all my long-buried rounders skills to wrap my fingers around the small bundle. Looking down, I saw a small, folded leather pouch of some kind, and frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘A key to my place. If you’re brave enough to face Valarie’s non-stop inquisitions, then you’re welcome round anytime.’
A key to his house? My eyes widened, and I tried desperately to suppress my excited squeal. A key was a big deal, wasn’t it? A really big deal.
Looking back at Oliver, I saw a soft, affectionate smile on his lips. ‘I wouldn’t want to terrify you by asking you to move in again, so this will do for now, hmm?’ He winked at me, and pushed open the door to the stairwell. ‘See you soon, cariño.’ Then, before I could even say anything about his gesture, he was gone, and I was left with just the sound of his shoes trotting down the steps.
My fist was still gripped around the pouch, and so, looking down, I saw a small press stud and flicked it open. Just as he had said, it contained a shiny silver key. The leather was some sort of purpose-made key holder, with a loop sewn into the top that held the key safely nestled inside.
Well I never. Grinning like a complete idiot, I carefully closed the pouch again and clutched it to my chest as I stepped inside my flat and closed the door. Looking down at the soft brown leather again, I let out a squeal of excitement and couldn’t help but jig on the spot.
‘Well, someone’s certainly in a good mood. Oliver’s aunt must be quite the entertainer,’ Sasha commented in amusement as she wandered into the kitchen, wrapped in her dressing gown and pouring herself a coffee.
Chloe entered, too, but she was dressed in her work clothes. She wrestled Sasha aside and grabbed a mug. ‘So the mystery blonde from the office is just his aunt?’
I looked at my concerned friends and nodded. ‘Yep. His dad’s sister. She’s been staying with him for a few months, but he was too embarrassed to tell me.’
Sasha took a sip of her coffee and groaned her appreciation. ‘Why?’
‘Because he’s a grown man and thought it sounded lame to say he shared a house with his aunt. He knows it was stupid to hide it.’
‘Fair play, I guess. Is she nice?’ Chloe asked, picking up a bagel.
‘Yes, she was lovely. Thank goodness.’
‘I’m really glad it’s all cleared up.’ Chloe nodded happily and left in the direction of her room to finish getting ready.
As I slid off my handbag I once again felt the key pouch in my hand and smiled.
‘Has Oliver fucked that smile onto your face?’ Sasha asked with a wicked chuckle as she handed me a steaming cup of java from the jug.
‘Sasha!’ I chided, amazed that she still managed to shock me with her crudity from time to time.
‘What? I’m just saying he’s a keeper if he makes you grin like that.’
My shock softened, and I found a soppy smile spreading on my face again. ‘Yeah. I think he’s a keeper, too,’ I admitted, opening up the pouch again and letting the key dangle down.
Sasha looked at it, then at me, with confusion growing on her face.
‘It’s a key to his house. He just gave it to me.’
‘Wow, Rob, this is big news!’ She grabbed the key from me and examined it, before frowning. ‘Holy shit! You’re not moving in with him, are you?’
‘No!’ I shook my head, but couldn’t stop his earlier words repeating in my mind. Nor could I deny that the idea definitely held an appeal for me. To be with him all the time would be amazing. But it was way too soon for that.
Wasn’t it?
Of course it was. His words had just been a joke. Hadn’t they? Brushing aside my multitude of unanswered questions, I snatched the key back and tucked it safely inside my handbag. ‘It’s just so I can visit anytime I like, that’s all.’
‘Hmm. Sure it is. Why live in his gigantic London mansion when you can share this tiny flat with m
e and Chlo, huh?’
‘Oh shush. I’m not moving in with him.’ I dumped my bag down on the armchair, kicked off my shoes, and watched Sasha as she poured a bowl of cereal and sat on the sofa.
‘I’ve seen how protective he is of you now. I give you a month, max, before you move in with him.’ Sasha shovelled in a mouthful of cornflakes.
‘You’re moving out?’ Chloe squawked as she came dashing back into the lounge with an empty tampon box in her hand.
‘No!’ I repeated. ‘Oliver just gave me a key to his place, that’s all.’
Chloe nodded, a smile spreading on her lips. ‘Exciting!’ She waggled the box and grimaced. ‘I’d love to stay and gossip, but some of us have to work on Saturdays, and I just came on. The bathroom box is empty. Either of you got a tampon?’
We all shared our toiletry supplies, so whoever was organised enough to spot when we were running low would normally buy some more. It was usually me, but I couldn’t recall having bought any recently, which would serve as a lesson to these two that they should also take some responsibility for the shopping every now and then.
‘If the box is empty then we’re out,’ Sasha chipped in, helpfully stating the obvious.
I grabbed my handbag, chucked Chloe the emergency tampon I kept in the side pocket, and made a mental note to replace it before my period was due.
‘Thanks, you’re a life saver!’ She clutched it dramatically to her chest and grinned at me. ‘OK, I’m off to work. You two can carry on discussing Oliver and all the pervy things you do together.’
Giggling, I settled myself on the sofa beside Sasha, a blush spreading on my cheeks as my mind flitted back to my kitchen encounter with Oliver this morning. With his aunt in the same house, that had been a seriously risky session.
‘Ugh. Stop it,’ Sasha warned, screwing up her face.
Genuinely confused, I turned to her. ‘Stop what?’
‘You get this really dopey look on your face when you think about having sex with Oliver,’ she informed me, raising her eyebrows knowingly. ‘It’s not appropriate when I’m trying to eat.’
Did I? A flush spread across my cheeks, but then Sasha was hardly one to talk. How many times had I had to endure her gushed morning-after chats when one of her numerous men had left the apartment? Countless times, that’s how many, and believe me when I say that she never held back on the details. Ugh.
‘I obviously learned that look from you, then,’ I replied snappily, a little put out that I was obviously so transparent to everyone in my life.
‘Then you’re learning from the best.’ She grinned as we bumped shoulders affectionately, then she put her empty bowl down. ‘So, seeing as I’ve finished breakfast now, and we’re on the subject of sex, care to share your most recent encounter with me?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling with wicked glee.
My cheeks were already burning from this whole conversation, so I decided to just indulge her. ‘He shagged me on the kitchen counter this morning while feeding me breakfast.’
‘Ho-ly-fuck-a-duck!’ Sasha slapped her hands to her cheeks dramatically. ‘God, your sex life at the moment sounds bloody brilliant. I’m so jealous! It’s been at least two weeks since I got laid.’
Two measly weeks? Her weekend had probably only been “dry” because all the shit that happened to me probably distracted her from finding someone to shag. Throwing my head back, I laughed hard, but then had to concede that my sex life was pretty fricking awesome at the moment, and nodded with a grin. Sex had never been this good, and Oliver was incredible.
Checking that the key he’d given me was still nestled in my bag, I smiled. ‘He’s quite a force of nature.’ I agreed, sipping my coffee and letting out a satisfied sigh.
Chapter Forty-eight
Robyn
Tonight would be my first trip back to Club Twist since Dominic had abducted me from the ladies’ room. I was nervous, and doing anything and everything to distract myself from dwelling on it.
One of the things on my to-do list was replacing all the bathroom supplies. After loaning Chloe my emergency tampon last week, I’d purchased another box and was now busy replacing the supplies in my handbag, and the bathroom. Staring at the box, I frowned and rubbed at my chin anxiously. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had my period. I was usually the week before Chloe, but I definitely hadn’t had a period that recently.
I jogged to my room, grabbed my phone and quickly checked my dates. Finding the “P” in last month’s calendar – my way of noting my period cycle so I could keep track – I counted forwards to today’s date.
Then I counted again.
And again.
Still staring at my calendar, I started to feel sick. I was eleven days late. How could I be eleven days late? How had I not realised? I supposed with the stress of the abduction it had just passed me by.
I dropped my phone and my hands immediately went to my belly and stroked it. Holy shit … That was nearly two weeks, which presumably meant I was pregnant? It still felt flat, well, as flat as usual, but then it was far too early to be showing anyway.
My hands left my belly, and instead dug into my hair, tugging in frustration. I didn’t want a baby! Not yet, anyway, but my cycle was normally pretty regular, so I really couldn’t see any other reason that I was so late.
With trembling limbs, I rushed back to the bathroom before dropping onto my knees in front of the cabinet. Rummaging through the contents, I searched desperately for a pregnancy test, hoping that there might be a spare one floating about from Sasha’s past scares.
There was no test, though, and with Oliver arriving to pick me up for the night in about ten minutes, I didn’t have time to go out and get one. Shit.
Oliver picked me up at seven on the dot, and after arriving at the club and seeing how nervous I was, he’d scooted me straight upstairs to his office so I could relax into the idea of being here again.
Not that I could relax. Oliver thought I was nervous about being back at the Club for the first time since my abduction, but God, how very wrong he was. All I could think about was my diary and the eleven days that had passed since I should have got my period.
When Oliver opened the fridge in his office and pulled out a bottle of my favourite wine my stomach dropped. ‘A drink will help you relax. You pour.’ He placed the bottle and glass in front of me, looking gorgeously handsome and relaxed, but I just felt sick.
Looking at the wine, I chewed on my lower lip. Shit. How was I going to get around this? Maybe I could just avoid drinking tonight until I could get my hands on a pregnancy test tomorrow.
‘Actually, I’m fine, thanks. I … uh … I … went for a run earlier, so I think I’ll stick to water.’ This was, of course, a complete lie, but as I stood up and walked towards the sink in the corner I prayed it sounded convincing.
Unfortunately, I didn’t quite make it to the sink, because as I passed him, Oliver reached out and snagged my wrist, pulling me around to face him. He was frowning, and I immediately knew that he’d seen straight through my lie. Damn it, how did he always manage to do this?
‘Hey, I know you’re a little nervous, but you’re safe with me.’
I looked at his concerned face, and wanted to burst into tears. ‘I know that.’ I assured him, hoping I could pass off my turning down a drink without any further questions.
He gave me a long, searching look and frowned. ‘It’s not that, it is? What’s wrong, Robyn?’
As I gazed up at his concerned stare I tried to work out what the hell I could say. I could lie and pretend that that it was just nerves about being back at the club, but Oliver had always been able to see through me so easily. Even as I considered lying, I knew I couldn’t. I was eleven days late, so it seemed that there was really only one direction I could take. The truth.
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’ I swallowed, dreading this conversation for so many reasons. Would he want the baby and offer to stay with me? Or would he see a child ruining his Dom l
ifestyle and break up with me? I really had no idea.
At my words, Oliver stood up and walked to the sink to get me the glass of water I’d mentioned. I decided to blurt it out while his back was turned and I wasn’t making eye contact.
‘I … I think I might be pregnant.’
At first, Oliver didn’t outwardly respond. His body remained rigid, still facing away from me with his broad shoulders squared off, and neck tilted to one side like he was trying, but failing to absorb my words. I couldn’t blame him for being shocked, because I was still struggling to come to terms with it myself.
Finally, he placed the glass down, and turned on the spot, his movement so tense he almost seemed to be moving in slow motion. Once his eyes met mine I felt my stomach drop to the floor, because there was no emotion in them whatsoever. Not shock, not happiness, not anger … nothing. It was the closed-off expression I’d seen him use on other people throughout our time together, but I had hardly ever been on the receiving end of it. I was now, though, and it chilled me to the bone.
When he spoke, his voice was low and gruff, and the words were the last I could ever have imagined. ‘Is it mine?’
My mouth dropped open in shock. Had I heard him correctly? Was it his? Had he really just asked that? I could barely compute his statement, and instead of saying anything, I stood there with my jaw slack and eyes wide. Did Oliver honestly believe that I would cheat on him? We might not have had a run of the mill start to our relationship, but since becoming exclusive we’d been so strong together.
I knew this wasn’t exactly planned, so I’d expected him to be a bit shocked, but after seeing how great he’d been with his nieces and nephews in Barcelona I’d thought he might be happy, or at least not horrified.
Obviously, I was wrong.
I was so distracted by my thoughts that I barely registered the sound of movement behind me, but just as consternation rose in my system prompting me to give him a piece of my mind, I was silenced by Alexandra sputtering behind me.