by Leeah Taylor
“Right,” Riley nodded. “More witch law bullshit.” She nudged Ollie back and jumped down. “Got a first aid kit.”
“Under the sink.” He pointed behind him. “So, on witchy fury scale, how pissed is Chelsea?”
“She’s hurt, not pissed,” Lucien said. “My fault.”
“Yeah,” Ollie shrugged. “Kinda is.”
“Screw off.” Lucien glared. “They still down there?”
“Yep, and for the record, I don’t condone what’s going on down there,” Ollie said. “And you know Juliette will be worse for it.”
Lucien nodded and sighed. “I know.”
Riley set the first aid kit down on the counter and opened it without a word about Juliette. She massaged more paste into the burn and he easily got lost in her gentle touch. Her lips quirked up when she caught him watching her.
“You ready for the epic night ahead of us?” He asked.
She blanched then turned bright red, securing the gauze around his hand and wrist but avoided eye contact.
Lucien chuckled.
“I told you both,” Riley kept her head down as she packed the first aid kit back up. “I’m not going.”
“Oh,” he hooked a finger under her chin and brought wide eyes up to meet his. “But you’ll have the absolute time of your life. Indulge me.”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “Maybe.”
The door to the basement swung open and Juliette slipped out. She looked ready to break. Go down to her knees in defeat. The weight of it all crushing her.
“I got it,” Lucien muttered.
Ollie heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “Be happy when this is all over.”
Nothing gutted him more than watching Juliette spiral out of control and drowning in her chaos. But she needed to come to him. If he tried to make it all better before she was ready, she’d shut him, all of them, out. More than she already had.
“Will it ever be over when her and Damien are at war with each other?” Riley asked.
He shook his head. “Not if their history is any sign. This is the tip of the iceberg.”
Riley | 7
She didn’t like it, not one bit, but apparently, Damien insisted. His room was dreary with a black mahogany instead of the dark deep brown of the rest of the house. The bookcases. The bed. The furniture. She preferred the loft. It was brighter. Warmer. And she found the fact conflicting since Damien built it for Juliette to a specific vision.
“Matches his black soul, I guess.”
She managed a laugh despite everything. Juliette and Damien were so far on their sides of the lines there didn’t seem to be any chance of reconciliation. It wouldn’t be a big deal if their turmoil didn’t risk her chance to know Ollie.
The last day weighed on her shoulders. Juliette almost died. Ollie almost died.
“Eh, my brothers not that bad.”
She tossed her bag on the bed before turning to him with her arms crossed and brow arched. He had a simple smile on his lips as he leaned into the doorframe. Ollie stole her breath. Paired with his lighthearted chuckle and her stomach fluttered. It was his ability to feel anything, unconditionally. Without restraint. Good or bad. Oliver felt everything in a raw, refreshing way. And he still smiled, no matter what.
“Fine, he is kinda that bad. But only as of late. Not always.” He dropped his arms and crossed the room to her, invading her space. “I’d say, he’s the most romantic of all three of us. In his way.”
She worked to swallow against the sudden dryness. Stomach clenched when his gaze consumed her without a word. Ollie was intense and gentle at the same time.
He reached up and grazed her cheeks. “Pink is a very stunning color on you.”
She leaned into the warmth of his hand as it cupped to her cheek. Sucking in a small breath when his thumb skimmed over her bottom lip. She was trapped in the intensity of his gaze. Drawing her down deeper into whatever had blossomed from only a picture. Pulling her in until she knew leaving wasn’t an option.
Not without knowing what more he might be. Could he be what she’d been running towards? An invisible force luring her closer to him. The idea was preposterous. Yet, getting lost in his deep blues filled with the same wonderment, she couldn’t help but believe it.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. A purr warmed in her chest, but she held it in. Even more when his lips lingered over hers. The warmth built to a fiery burn, but she still resisted it. She wasn’t supposed to purr for him. Not a vampire.
The pulse between her legs. Normal. Growing wet and more than ready for him to take her. Business as usual. But the burn in her chest to purr for him? Never happened before. And she craved to give into it. For him.
She never needed to taste a man’s lips more than the ones a whisper from hers. But he seemed frozen. Undecided what might happen if he closed the gap once and for all. She pushed up on her tiptoes. She needed to know.
“Damien finds out and he’ll kill you both,” Juliette declared as she passed the room.
Ollie moved away, and disappointment washed over her. Thanks a lot, Jules. She glared in the hallway's direction as a door slammed.
Ollie huffed. “She’s on the brink.”
“Oliver! Let’s go. We need to meet Damien at the Keep.” Lucien yelled.
Annoyance flickered in his gaze. She had no idea what the Keep was, but it didn’t look like he wanted to go. It’d be fine by her. She wanted him to stay.
He eyed her. “Guess I’ll see you tonight?”
She nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. “It’s a date.”
Did I just say that?
He looked like he wanted to say something. Maybe tell her it wasn’t a date. The thought had her stomach twisting in knots. What if he wasn’t as interested as she thought? Oliver Frost was the smooth and charming Sterling sex king. She barely knew him. He could woo her like any other person he’d lured to his bed.
Ollie stopped at the door, looking back at her. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Her heart fluttered, and she knew he heard it because the corner of his lip quirked up. He winked at her with a nod before leaving.
Men came and went in ten years. But nothing more. Came and went, usually by morning. There were no relationships. The idea was impossible to fathom on the run. There were good romps. Bad romps. Even mediocre ones. But they all ended by morning.
Now she was staring down the very possible notion of Ollie being more than a good romp. More than a night spent together and ending when day broke.
Juliette and Damien needed to figure their shit out because she wasn’t ready to leave when the inevitable threat was handled. She had to hope her best friend and the grumpy vampire kissed and made up. Otherwise it left her with two options. Leave when Juliette did. Or stay and break her promise of all in.
Ollie| 8
His stomach churned and twisted in knots. It’s not a date. It felt a lot like a date. She called it a date. He could lie to himself and believe it was another typical night with Juliette. Stalk the crowd to find delicious treats to distract them from whatever ruled and wrecked their world. But this time was different. This time he already had the delicious treat he wanted in his sights.
He rolled up his sleeves, glaring at his wrapped-up hand. Going to kill Ramey when I get my hands on him. It pulsed with a vague itch to remind him it was there.
Ramsey. Fuck if he needed another brother. He fit right in, though. Psycho like Damien. Yet he couldn’t shake the measure of calculation he seemed to have down in the catacombs. Like Lucien. Ramsey knew what he wanted and how he would get it.
He could deal with that part of the story. Adrian knocked up some random witch and ended up stuck with Ramsey. Fine. Whatever. Shit happens. At least Ramsey didn’t kill their mother. For no other reason than to give life. The irony wasn’t lost on him. She died for Ollie to live and he hated himself more for it.
He growled with another glance at his left hand. The tattoo work would need redone
once it healed entirely. The black vines twisted and wrapped down his arm past his wrist, blotted out by a nasty, mangled forming scar. Ivy would love torturing him with the needle.
Pain wasn’t the problem. He didn’t feel like dealing with Ivy’s attitude. She was a little spitfire and pain in his side. He shook his head, shoving his phone in his back pocket. She was damn good at running his bar when he wasn’t around too.
This isn’t a date. Just a night out. Nothing more.
He didn’t believe it or put it passed Juliette to ditch them the moment they stepped into Juleps. She’d be sneaky that way. She locked herself in her room the rest of the day and it wasn’t the first time either. Ollie lost count of how many times Juliette locked herself in her room. Because of Damien. To avoid feeding. To wallow.
He lingered at her door more times throughout the day but never knocked despite hearing her tears fall behind the door. Juliette wasn’t ready for him yet. She was close and when she finally slipped off the edge she was balancing on, he’d be there to catch her. Make it all better with silent comfort and reassurance. Kiss her fingertips and put her world back together. In the meantime, he’d entertain Riley and coax more pretty shades of red into her cheeks. Slowly inch his way into her world and learn everything he could about her.
He crept across the room to Juliette’s room and lingered in the doorway. Eavesdropping wasn’t something he was proud of, but he couldn’t help it. Hearing Juliette talk about him to Riley warmed through him.
“He may seem the type to be a player but believe me when Ollie sets his eyes on someone, it's about them. He’s not a cheater. He’s not a roamer. And Riley,” Juliette paused. “He has eyes on you and only you.”
He slipped into view, staring at them in the reflection. “My two gorgeous ladies ready?”
Riley crossed her arms. “Your gorgeous lady?”
Ollie grinned. “Adorable little kitty cat? Better?”
Riley’s brow went up and her eyes morphed into magnificent diamonds. His mouth went dry and heart quickened. My God, she’s beautiful.
Juliette giggled. “Easy Ollie, she might pounce.”
He half shrugged. “I usually prefer foreplay first but hey I’m down for anything. Haven’t tried kitten play yet.”
Riley’s cheek went pink and her eyes shifted back.
“Oh my god, Jules, make him stop!”
“I warned you,” Juliette smirked at him in the reflection. “He’s charming, funny and the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. Can’t really resist him. Or stop him.”
Ollie smiled sweetly, winking. “Well come on, ladies, the night is ours.”
He fought to keep his fingers from reaching over, inches away, and tugging her into his side on the walk to Juleps. A permanent shade of pink worked its way up into her cheeks with every glimpse she stole. And he caught Juliette smirk in his direction once.
Barely a day past, and he was turned upside down over the girl. More than when it was only a picture. Anything he’d give to make sure she stayed when it was all said and done.
He wanted an opportunity to see if it was more. If she might be everything for him. Everything to her. Each time he saw her, had a moment with her, there were words unsaid. Something she held back. He did too. What if it was entirely dangerous? What happens if he, if she, gave in to whatever it was unsaid? It all hinged on Damien and Juliette finally getting their shit together. Getting over themselves and giving into each other. Or fuck each other already. Anything ensuring Riley stayed.
Xavier nodded at the door and held it open for them. Ollie didn’t miss the man’s slight smirk as his eyes followed Juliette walk in like she owned the place. In a lot of ways, she did. Nothing warmed him more than witnessing the power of his bar take hold of her inside. Juliette’s eyes sparkled, body swaying with the music and the first hint of happy touch her lips. He missed the look of absolute bliss in her eyes. Already getting lost and escaping her chaos.
Juleps had the power to overrule whatever Sterling’s current climate was. If the witches and vampires were at each other’s throats, in the bar the vehemence vanished and a whole other world pulsed to life.
“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Juliette was already heading toward the bar.
“Wait, what?” Riley muttered.
“I’ll find you,” Juliette smiled.
“Doll—”
She waved over her shoulder. “Go, have fun, I’ll find you.”
Sneaky. He took in Riley’s wide-eyed gaze up at him. God, I’m gonna be sick. What if he was wrong? What if what he was feeling was nothing, and he was just horny? Another look at her smiling sweetly up at him and he didn’t believe it for a moment.
“Entirely dangerous,” she whispered.
With a grin, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the dance floor. “Beyond dangerous.”
He slipped his hands over her hips, pulling her closer, and wanted to swallow up the distance to her lips but didn’t. Resisting her was half the fun. When he finally tasted her, he knew it’d do him in.
She fell in rhythm with him. Her hips moving with his. He became mesmerized with how easily she fit against his body. Moved with it. A perfect fit in his arms.
She made blocking out the pain buried down in his heart easy. Fate was a nasty bitch, stealing his chance at happy, repeatedly. If she gave him the chance, he’d slay through Fate for her. He deserved happy too. The beauty of love. And he knew, if given the chance, he could love this girl.
Maybe he already did.
The music slowed, and he pulled her flush to him. Craved to hold her close. Get lost in the way jasmine engulfed him. His new favorite scent. He’d litter his room with scented candles to capture her essence.
“Why do you look at me like that?”
He cocked his head. “How?”
“Like I’m the only one you see.”
He cupped her cheek, leaning in closer. “Because you are.”
She glanced around them, shaking her head. “You can have your pick of anyone here. Hell, everyone here has eye fucked you at least once. So why—”
“Because when I look at you, I see more.”
He saw everything stolen from him with Lily. Hope. Love. A beautiful future. A reason to put the pain behind him.
“More what?”
“Everything,” he dragged his knuckle down her cheek, smirking. “Even when it’s you eye fucking me.”
Her mouth fell open. Cute pink cheeks.
“I do not…”
“Oh, beautiful, you do.”
Dirty little things ran through her mind. He saw it every time he caught her stealing looks of him. Her gaze raked over him from head to toe with flushed cheeks and a flicker of something deeper. And each time he fell harder, deeper and more smitten with her.
“Well,” she playfully glared at him. “You do too.”
A soft growl rumbled in his chest. “In every deliciously dirty way.”
He wasn’t afraid to admit it. He was still the sex king. Riley twisted his stomach up in knots, but he wasn’t letting it stop him from being his typical charming self.
“So dangerous,” she muttered.
“Only if you let me.”
Please let me.
“Hey,” Juliette interrupted.
One look and he could see the first cracks of her world shining through and it cut through the moment. Drenching whatever it was boiling between them in ice cold water. Her chaos getting in the way again.
“You okay?” Riley asked.
“Yeah, I need to get out of here. I’m gonna go home.”
“We can come—” Riley started.
Juliette waved her off. “Stay. Have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Doll—”
“Really,” she insisted. “I’m okay.”
She kissed him on the cheek, hugged Riley and disappeared before either of them could stop her.
Ollie eyed Damien at the bar and he looked genuinely disappointed watching Juliette walk o
ut. For a moment it looked like he might chase after her and, finally, go down to his knees for her. Beg her for forgiveness. Break for her.
He needed to, once and for all. He owed it to her. But Damien only turned back to the bar and held up a finger to Ivy.
“He almost looks broken,” Riley said.
“Because he is.” He tugged her toward the bar. “You wanna drink?”
He needed a drink to take the edge off. Of Damien. Of Juliette. Of the beautiful girl, lacing her fingers in his to let him lead her to the bar. He needed her to stay.
Riley | 9
The streets of Sterling were quiet and dark. Only lit by the dim street lights and moon. With liquor warming her veins, Riley didn’t bother to play coy when Ollie wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She greedily leaned into his side, happy to inhale his sandalwood spice and whiskey.
He felt like he could be home. A warm place to curl up and never leave again.
She yawned deep and Ollie laughed.
“Tired?”
“I really shouldn’t be. This would be early for me and Jules.”
Every night was behind a bar until two in the morning. Lucky to be home and, hopefully, in a bed before dawn. Sometimes it was in the car if they didn’t scrap enough together for one night in a motel. There were a lot of nights in the car.
She didn’t want more nights spent in the car, in a dark parking lot, but if things didn’t go her way, could they even go back to Canonpeke? Was it safe? Or would they have to run again?
“Hey,” a finger hooked under chin, lifting her eyes up to his. “What’s wrong?”
She shook the thought off. “Nothing.”
A gentle smile spread over his lips as he nudged the door to the house open. “Not a very good liar, Riley.” He tugged her hand back into his. “Come on, what’s running course in that pretty little mind of yours?”
She half shrugged. “Wondering what happens when it’s over and Jules and I have to leave. Can we even go home? What if it’s not safe? We’re back on the run.”
His expression turned to stone, but it was all in his eyes and they spoke loud and clear. He didn’t like the idea.