by Harlow Grace
“Yeah, he’ll be here late though. He has to work and can’t get out of it.”
She raised her brows and smiled in that uniquely wicked way that meant she was plotting something. “That gives you more time to play with Oliver. I seriously think you should make a move on him. The man is tripping over his dick to get to you.”
I looked in Oliver’s direction and found him staring at me. No smile, and definitely no indication that he was tripping over himself to get to me. Quinn was usually right when it came to men, but she had it all wrong where Oliver was concerned. He simply continued to stare at me. Actually, it was more like a glare.
And damn if that glare didn’t shoot desire through me.
I turned away from him and gave Quinn my full attention again. “He caught me giving Gerard a blowjob the day he arrived and lost it at him. Like seriously lost it.” The recollection of that moment caused me to tense up, heat rising in my belly. “Damn Larissa for not telling me that Oliver was on his way. I had no clue he was coming and then BAM, I look up into his eyes while I have Gerard’s dick in my mouth.”
Quinn burst out laughing. I could see how that could be hilarious from her point of view. Not so funny for me. I'd never been as mortified in my life. There I was, imagining Gerard’s cock was Oliver’s—and giving it my best shot—only to be caught by the real thing. Standing there—watching. Sometimes life was fucking cruel.
“Well that tells you something,” she said with that smug look she got when she believed she was right.
I shook my head. “It just tells me what I already knew—Oliver is crazy and I hate him. He’s always interfering in my business when it has nothing to do with him. I just wish he would leave me the hell alone and go back to his whores.”
Her eyes narrowed on me. “When are you going to admit to yourself that you have it just as bad for him as he has it for you? This has been going on for damn years, Maya. It doesn’t have to be anything other than sex if that’s all you want.”
I would die if she could read my mind.
One minute I wanted to have sex with Oliver and the next I wanted to get as far away from his as possible. My thoughts drove me insane some days. It would be a hell of a lot easier if he weren’t in my life.
Maybe I should leave.
Run as far from Oliver King as I could. Go to school in another state.
And goddamn it, those thoughts alone twisted my stomach in panic. The thought of not seeing him drove me crazier than he ever could with his taunts. I had two years of experience in exactly how that felt. It sucked.
“Maya? Did you hear what I said?”
Her voice cut through my thoughts. “Sorry, yeah I heard you. I can’t imagine sleeping with him. I don’t think my father would approve. Besides, it's just gross thinking of screwing my freaking stepbrother.” That was the biggest lie I’d ever told my best friend. I'd rather not admit the exorbitant number of hours I’d spent imaging sleeping with him. I still wasn’t any closer to knowing how to handle this.
I’m so damn conflicted between what I want and what I know is right.
She shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I think you two need to deal with this attraction soon. It’s consuming you, and I worry about where it'll all end up.”
Quinn was right. Oliver consumed my thoughts day and night. But she was dreaming if she thought I would ever go to him and admit any of this.
“Maya.” The voice I heard in my dreams floated from behind me and I turned to find Oliver standing behind me.
I shivered under his gaze. Those steely eyes of his pierced my soul and stirred a need in me I struggled to understand. My legs threatened to buckle under me as the need for him blazed through my body.
As we stood staring at each other, Quinn excused herself. “I’m going to leave you two to it. I’ll catch up with you later, Maya.”
I watched her go and then found Oliver’s gaze again. It hadn’t deviated from me. He’d moved closer so our bodies almost touched and his warm minty breath danced across my face.
Close enough to cause me to lose all common sense.
“Is that prick whose dick was in your mouth the other day coming tonight?” he demanded to know, his voice dripping with scorn. “Your ex?”
And just like that, any desire for him evaporated, anger settling in its place.
“Screw you, Oliver,” I spat.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little bee? My cock fucking you, showing you what you’ve been missing with all those school boys.”
I tried to move away from him, desperately needing to put some distance between us. “Don’t delude yourself. The last thing I want is your cock.”
The vein in his neck pulsed and anger clouded his features. His hand snaked out and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back to him. “One of these days you’ll know what my cock feels like. I’ll make you my slut, Maya, and you will fucking beg for it. You’ll crave what I can give you.”
Every nerve ending in my body sparked with desire and my heart beat so fast it could jump out of my throat at any moment.
Oh my God, I had to be sick to be turned on by those words.
But I was.
So. Fucking. Turned. On.
Oliver had flipped the switch again with just those words.
How the hell does he do that?
I tried to struggle out of his hold but his grip tightened around my waist, his fingers digging in hard. The pain shot through me and I begged, “Let me go, you’re hurting me.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Satisfaction? In some ways he was still a mystery to me, even after six years, so I couldn’t be sure. Bending his face closer to mine, he taunted me. “Good. You’ll learn to enjoy pain when you’re with me.”
Fear surged through me. Oliver wasn’t making sense anymore and this conversation needed to end. I pulled away hard and he finally let me go. As I stumbled backwards, I snapped. “Stay away from me, Oliver. I’m not interested in you, your cock, or your pain.” Lie. Damn lie. Without giving him a chance to reply, I turned and stalked out of the room.
I’d always known Oliver King was bad news and this just proved it.
And yet, my core whispered its sick desire for everything he had to offer. My panties were soaked and I bet he knew it.
Not only did I want his cock, I fucking craved it. How much longer could I fool myself into believing I didn’t? But I had to resist him—he only wanted me as a plaything. As much as I told myself it was only sex I wanted from him, I knew that once he had me, I’d want more. Always more. And that was just plain fucking dangerous.
No good could come of it. Regardless of how much I wanted it.
Chapter Fourteen — Maya
Before: The Morning
I woke up the same as any other day, but there was something different about that day that set a swarm of butterflies loose in my stomach.
I was no longer a child.
I said it out loud. “Eighteen.”
Eighteen.
Officially an adult in most parts of the world. It was a big deal. And yet, I’d had a different childhood than a lot of girls my age, so in some ways I felt a lot older than what I was.
Yawning, I sat up and stretched my limbs out in the queen sized bed. My gaze darted through the window and rested on the pair of birds in the tree outside, as had become my morning ritual. They’d built a nest and laid three eggs. I’d been watching closely and waiting for them to crack open for days. It was the first thing I did every morning—check if the eggs had hatched yet. Still nothing. Maybe it would happen today. It would be the best birthday present ever.
A pang went through my heart.
If things were different, the best present would’ve been my mother giving me a smile and a hug. Her telling me she was proud of me. That I’d grown into a beautiful young woman.
I missed her so much that my heart ached. Bonds were formed in the early stages of my life that I couldn’t deny in spite of the amount of time that had passed. Sure, they w
eren’t as strong as I would’ve liked, but they were there never the less.
I got up to have a pee and shower and to get ready for my day. It was the one day Daddy always made a fuss of me, and I was looking forward to extra attention from him.
And of course, Oliver was there too. He’d never been at the house on my actual birthday, so I wondered how he’d act on my special day. If he’d still be so damn mean to me.
My reflection stared back at me from the bathroom mirror.
God, I’m still so young.
I’d filled out physically, my breasts filled a C cup and my hips were rounder and my ass, of course, bigger too. But other than that, it was still the same ol’ me.
I had so much life ahead of me.
So much I didn’t know.
So much more I wanted to experience.
I’d waited for this day for a long time, because I wanted to know what Mom would have looked like when she died. Finally, I was the exact same age as what she was when she took her life. Megan Christina Childs was barely an adult when she left the world.
Overwhelming sadness flooded my heart and reflected back at me. Dull and misty, I stared at the sad green eyes speckled with gold that Daddy said were exactly like hers. I never could quite tell from the pictures of her I’d stared at for hours on end, so I took his word on it.
Was it really that bad having me at eighteen that she couldn’t carry on? My dad loved her with all his heart, so it couldn’t have been that which made her do it. Now that I was eighteen too, I had every reason to want to live, to see what life had in store for me.
It had to be me. It was the only explanation—Mom couldn’t cope with having a baby.
ME.
If Megan Childs knew how her actions would affect and damage her baby, would she still choose the same route?
I’d hoped that turning eighteen would help me understand. It didn’t. Feeling worse than ever; wretched that I was unable to grasp her internal wounds, her suffering, and her damaging perceptions, I was going to mourn the loss worse than any other day.
I couldn’t look any longer—the face I was cursed with had driven a wedge between Daddy and me. As much as I wanted to blame Larissa, deep in my heart I knew it wasn’t the full truth of why Daddy avoided looking at me.
Letting out a long slow breath, I turned away from my reflection. It did me no good. If I could live the rest of my life never having to look into another mirror, it would be a blessing.
Turning eighteen hadn’t brought the answers I’d hoped for—it only confused me more. Made me hurt inside. Question my existence.
In the shower, I let the stream of water wash over me, taking a moment to allow myself to cry and let the tears disappear down the drain. I had to shake this morbidity and put on a happy face, because if I wanted Daddy to see me, his Princess Maya, I didn’t want him to glimpse my mother in my eyes.
Dressed in my usual attire of shorts and a loose top, I pulled my hair into a pony tail without looking into the mirror and made my way downstairs to face the day with false bravado.
Being the kind of girl who needed breakfast and coffee to start the day, I made my way to the kitchen, hoping I’d be able to enjoy my meal without seeing anyone else as it was still really early. Sleeping without drawing the curtains closed usually had me up before the rest of the household stirred.
Daddy had told me the night before that he’d leave at the crack of dawn to see a few patients and do his rounds so that he’d be free earlier for my party. Larissa was probably still sleeping and Quinn hadn’t arrived yet. As for Oliver . . . he was probably sleeping and he rarely made an appearance before midmorning, so it was just me in the kitchen before the bustle started.
I rustled up some scrambled eggs and toast and was just making a mug of steaming java when I heard footsteps behind me. By the way the hairs stood up on my neck and arms, it could only be one person. What was he doing up so damn early?
I swung around and slammed into a hard chest. I swallowed my gasp, completely taken off guard. Oliver had never snuck up this closely to me. I hoped he couldn’t hear how hard my heart was beating.
“Little bee, good morning!” He smiled down at me, small crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. Good Lord, what was that cliché about having me at hello? It made perfect sense to me now.
“Morning,” I croaked, unable to say if it was going to be good at this point. Warily I scrutinized his handsome face. The wide smile seemed to be genuine. What was going on? Was Oliver sleepwalking?
His arm slid around my waist and he pulled me inches closer to him. Dazzled, all I could register was Oliver’s minty breath floating to me as his mouth moved to speak. “Happy birthday, Maya.”
Dipping his head, his lips brushed over mine. Sweet and gentle. My back stiffened. Was I in some sort of dream? This wasn’t my stepbrother. Aliens must have taken over his body. Hell, maybe they’d abducted both of us.
“Relax, little bee.” His voice was soft and calm, yet the way he pulled me tightly against his chest was forceful and possessive. Ahhh, Oliver is in there somewhere after all.
My heart pounded against his chest and I was damn sure his was beating as fast as mine. He pulled his head back and lifted my chin so that my eyes met his. They were soft, kind even.
“I just want to welcome you to adulthood. Wish you a wonderful life.”
Leaning in, his lips pressed against mine. Warm. Sweet. Delicious.
Lingering.
My heart wanted to explode. The world stood still, it was only us. I really didn’t want to wake from this dream.
After the longest moment—a moment that felt like eternity, he broke the kiss. One hand snaked around my neck, the other pressed me to his chest. Oliver rested his forehead against mine and we stood like that as if we never wanted to move. Afraid to break the spell, I slowed my breathing and just soaked up everything about his closeness. It was surreal. I’d never felt anything like this in my whole life.
It wasn’t lust, anger, hatred. That I was sure of. But exactly what is was, I couldn’t say.
Of all the people in the world, Oliver was the first to wish me on my birthday. And it just felt perfect. The way I wished it could always be. Oh God, this was the best birthday present—one I never expected.
“I have something for you. Come.” He let me go and instantly I felt the loss of his body so close to mine. His warmth gone.
No.
I want more. Of sweet Oliver kissing me. Holding me as if I would break.
Please, God. I would do anything for more.
I found my voice. “Wh . . .what?” I said, blinking fast as he gifted me with a brilliant smile. It wasn’t over yet. Thank you, God!
He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the fridge. Then he pushed me back onto a stool close by. This wasn’t making any sense. I watched as he opened the fridge door and moved a few things from one shelf to another until a pink and black box was exposed. What the hell?
Pulling the box from the fridge with a huge grin on his face, he said, “Close your eyes till I say you can open.”
Was there no end to sweet Oliver? Now he wanted to surprise me? Good Lord, my heart could hardly handle it. My eyes fluttered closed. This was fun. This was how I wished Oliver could always be to me.
I took a deep breath as I heard the box shift over the granite top and Oliver chuckle softly. He was enjoying this. Maybe a bit too much? My heart pounded in my throat. What if it was a prank?
“Open your eyes, Maya.” His voice was happy and excited. Something I’d never heard before. I couldn’t stand the suspense a moment longer. My eyes flew open to look—not at the box, but at him.
“See what I got you? I hope you like it!” Oliver was like a big kid, rubbing his hands together and grinning like a goof. My heart did a summersault. This man. The way he was now—
Staying seated as my knees wobbled that much that I was afraid to stand, I leaned forward and peered into the box.
“Oliver!”
/> “Like it? Tell me you do!” My gaze swung from the cake to his. Oliver’s eyes were bright and shiny. He was happy. My heart was going to burst.
“I . . . I do. It’s amazing.” I wasn’t really talking about the cake. It was the expression of joy on his face that I’d never witnessed before that took my breath away. “You got me a cake of Maya the Bee!”
I’d had a few over the years, especially when I was younger. But this one was by far the most precious. It had eighteen black candles, nine on each of the bee’s wings.
His eyes were blazing. “There’s more. See what’s in her hand?” He pointed to a box.
“Wh . . . what?” Why had I turned into a stuttering fool? I leaned over to take another look. In the bee’s hand was a small box. I sucked in a breath. How had I not noticed the Cartier wrapping before?
“Open it. I want to see your face.”
“You get it,” I said, suddenly shy.
“Okay. Hold out your hand, little bee.”
I did. Mesmerized, I watched him place the box in my hand. It wasn’t that it was Cartier that had my mouth dry and butterflies swarming my belly. It was that Oliver had gone out of his way to get me something special for my birthday.
It was just too good to be true.
Beaming from ear to ear, he placed the box in my palm. I was shaking so much, but I couldn’t hide it. Oliver didn’t seem to notice. With trembling fingers I pulled at the beautiful bow, almost too sorry to undo such perfection.
I carefully lifted the lid off the box.
Gasping, my eyes fell on the contents. A beautiful necklace, a gold circle studded with what could only be diamonds, lay on the velvet cushion.
“Like it?”
“Oh, Oliver. I love it,” I said on a shaky breath, fighting back the tears. I’d seen this design in one of my magazines. It was called the circle of life.
Did Oliver know that? Was he trying to tell me something? Or was I reading too much into it. Yeah, I must be. My mind was in a jumble and I could hardly believe this was really happening to me.