by Leeah Taylor
“What made you stop to begin with?”
“It was Jules idea. We’d been running, dodging and beating trackers for years. A few wolves, two or three, along the way too. She figured no matter what, run or don’t, someone would always come.”
One tracker came for her in the six months they were in Canonpeke and Juliette made him supper. But it proved she was right. Run or don’t, someone would always come.
“If I had to guess.” Ollie began guiding her up the stairs. “She did it for you.”
Riley knew she did. There was no other reason for them to stop than she knew Juliette wanted her to have the smallest taste of life.
It wasn’t until he stopped and the disappointment, becoming familiar with him, washed over her. She was standing at Damien’s bedroom door. Ollie’s barely ten feet away.
He pinched her chin between his fingers to make her look at him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you good things come to those who wait?”
She sucked in a breath when his thumb grazed her bottom lip. His eyes fixated on it with a need brewing. A need was pulsing to life between her legs, yet he hesitated every time he was close. Lingered within reach but never closing the distance.
“Ollie…” It was barely a whisper. Pleading.
He cupped her cheek. “I know, the second I taste those lips, it won’t be about if you stay but about finding every way to make sure you stay.”
Then do it already.
She could make the choice for him. Swallowed up the whisper of space and given him the taste she knew he was craving. But he was right. If he finally closed the distance and gave her the same taste, it’d be near impossible to leave. Juliette leaving without her wasn’t an option. She needed Riley as much as Riley needed her.
There was no going back if she let him kiss her.
“Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
He touched her forehead with his and heaved a sigh. “It’s not sweetheart.”
She huffed. “Your dick of a brother is cock blocking you."
"Yeah," he nodded with a smirk. "Well, Jules isn’t helping.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek before backing away. Big, hungry blue eyes raked over her and she forced herself to swallow.
“But my newest baby brother hasn’t been beat yet, I’d say we still have time. Maybe Jules and Damien will surprise us,” he said, backing towards his room. “Maybe she’ll stay. Maybe Damien will man up.” He shrugged when he reached his door. “Maybe I’ll get a taste of those pretty pink lips yet.”
She bit down on her lip, but it did nothing for the smile on them or the heat creeping up in her cheeks.
“We can only hope,” she said.
“Good night, Riley.”
“Good night, Oliver.”
She stared at his door as it clicked closed, digging down deep and willing herself into her own room. Though her heart and legs seemed to have a mind of their own. Trying to carry her across the hall to his door. But she blew out a breath and clicked her door closed behind her instead. Storming to the room next store seemed like a better idea. Give Juliette a piece of her mind.
Figure her shit out with Damien already.
She told her what to do. Have it out with him. Fix it or end it once and for all but get it over with. Riley loved her like a sister, she was family, but the bullshit had to stop. Five years she watched Juliette spiral deeper into an abyss and it gobbled her up.
Maybe letting Juliette leave was the only option. Maybe staying behind the best thing for her best friend. Her stomach clenched, and she growled, collapsing on the bed. It wasn’t fair Juliette’s chaos was keeping her from having her chance with Ollie. Beyond a good romp in bed. Which she knew damn well it would only end one way.
Completely and utterly head over heels. Passed any reason. It’d be epic. An explosion so big she was sure it’d wreck them both.
She shifted on the bed, glaring at it. “How the hell does he sleep on this?”
It was too hard. Too scratchy. She was too pissed off. And horny. Another growl rumbled in her chest, and she punched the too hard bed. He was only supposed to be a fun romp. A quickie with the Sterling sex king. Now she was stuck between her best friend and a man she was sure she could love. And he’d love her back. Powerfully. She knew it down in her bones. There was too much buried behind his blue eyes. An intensity swirled with his soft and gentleness. He felt nothing halfway but in an all-in kind of way. She wanted a chance to go all in with him.
Screw Juliette.
Fuck Damien.
She ran for ten years and finally found a warm place that might be more than just a home. But a forever. After everything she gave up, she deserved more than surviving. More than running.
And she would have it.
Oliver| 10
Riley looked like she’d seen a ghost for as white as she went when Juliette left with Louisa. He wasn’t happy about it anymore than her, but he trusted his brother wouldn’t let anything happen either. Damien was a dick, but he loved her more than his entire world.
He witnessed the smallest chance of them finally healing the brokenness. Damien looked ready to fix it all. With one look, his brother made an entire future possible with Riley. Assuming he could pull his shit together once and for all. Give in to Juliette and go to his knees for her. Submit to the love he kept buried in his heart for over a century.
And being blessed into Regency meant Juliette had to stay now.
Riley’s cute pale pink lips pulled down and Ollie itched to reach for her. Wrap his fingers around hers and tug her into his side to comfort her. Kiss it and make it all better.
“Jules is good at taking care of herself.” He reassured her as he opened the front door for her.
The smallest smile caught on her lips. “I know she is. Too damn stubborn.”
He didn’t miss her roaming eyes as she walked passed him into the house. In a matter of days, Riley dug hooks deep and refused to let go. He was addicted the moment her ocean swallowed him up on a computer screen.
She looked too delicious standing at the bottom of the stairs, nibbling on her bottom lip. Big curious eyes waiting for him to make a move. Forcing himself to leave her in Damien’s bedroom last night proved to be the hardest feat he ever took on. His dick certainly wasn’t happy with him and his hand didn’t make it any more ecstatic either.
“After you.”
She smiled, pink crawled up the creamy flesh of her throat and the first hint of naughty peeked out as she swallowed. Her tongue peeked out, sliding over her bottom lip. His mouth watered and wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist the craving.
It was a dangerous edge he balanced on. Swaying precariously over a vast canyon, ready to jump. He’d either be heartbroken or possibly discover something beautiful and he missed beautiful.
He missed more.
Sex was good. Sex kept him running like a well-oiled machine. It sated a deeper carnal desire blanketed in darkness. A darkness rooted deep and painted his soul with black. But even he, the proclaimed Sterling sex king, yearned for more than sexual pleasure.
Riley finally took the first step with a glance over her shoulder. He wondered if she’d ever lose the ability to flush with only a look. Giving away all her dirty little thoughts without a word. It taunted with him to invade her space. Tease her. Play with her. Push to see how far he could take it before she was squirming to get away or go upstairs to finish.
She touched to parts of him nobody bothered to caress in decades and awakened a fresh pulse of life in a place he believed died long ago. Reminding him there was a heart beating in his chest.
Riley swallowed up the bit of space. She was beyond fierce, looking up at like he was the lion and daring it to pounce as her jasmine scent penetrated him.
Maybe I have a little switch on my hands.
She struck him as the type. Eyes like hers and pouty pink lips, she looked as innocent and submissive as they came. But up close, staring into the same eyes and catching a hint of the ti
gress, he knew better.
Let’s play.
He slipped his hand over her hip, guiding her back until there was nowhere else to go. She may be a tigress, but he was equally dominant. The lion in the game. Passive was a way of life, but alpha was in his blood. Quietly dormant, watching from the sidelines. Right where it belonged.
He ran the tip of his nose over the contour of her jaw and inhaled deeply. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as jasmine mixed with arousal in the air. She swallowed as he met her gaze and captured him in her blue-eyed trap with intensity.
“I’m not afraid of you,” her voice was so soft.
He smirked. “I didn’t think you were.”
“You’re afraid of what I think of you.”
He had a reputation. There was nobody to blame for it but himself. He had no shame or guilt about his sexual conquests. Bedding this one or that to fulfill his need to suppress it all. He lost count of the numbers. At 290 years old there were a lot of men and women who shared his bed.
“Yes.”
Her addictive small smile touched her lips as she slipped her hand into his. “I think you’ve been nothing more than an idea in a picture. And now here you stand in front of me.”
He nodded, moving closer. “And?”
“And I want to fill the gap between him in the picture and the legend that is Oliver Frost.”
“It’s a sizeable gap.”
“I’ve figured that out.”
“And what happens when you find you don’t like what’s in the gap?”
She half shrugged. “We all have secrets, demons and half-truths lurking in the gap between the perception and the legend. I’m the runaway alpha princess and you’re the Sterling sex King. We both have sharks prowling our waters.”
Might as well been talking to his soul. Speaking a language only he understood. What secrets did the princess have? What was she burying deep?
He tugged her up the steps. “Let’s go explore then, shall we?”
“Sure,” She smirked, passing him on the steps. “But I’m not sleeping with you.”
Playful teasing little sweet thing.
“Good,” He followed her up the stairs. “I didn’t want to sleep with you, anyway.”
She giggled, and the sound went straight to his dick and cursed it for getting hard.
“You and your cock are liars.”
Just you wait.
“Can’t help it has a mind all its own. Doesn’t know any better.” He teased, opening the door for her.
She stopped beside him. A playfulness playing in her eyes. “Do you know what gives women the upper hand?”
He leaned in closer. “Tell me.”
“All a woman needs to know that she’s a man’s weakness is to look for the raging hard on.” She pushed up on her tiptoes to come nose to nose with him. “While men can only guess at how wet she might be but never knowing for sure.”
Well, isn’t she just adorable?
He leaned in until his lips grazed over her ear and a thrill shot through him when she shivered. “Too bad I can smell how aroused you are. If I had to guess the pretty bit of lace you’re wearing are drenched through.” Wide eyes stared back at him when he pulled back. “And I haven’t even touched you yet and maybe, if you’re a good girl, I will.”
Pink was a sexy color on her cheeks. None more than watching her tongue dart out over her bottom lip before biting down on it. He needed to taste her bottom lip. Fight for purchase of her mouth with the tongue peeking out.
But only if she let him.
She cleared her throat, sounding too cute for own good. “I’m not known for being a good girl.”
He grinned when she walked away from him. Feisty little thing. She kept her eyes on him while crossing the room and scanned the bookshelves filled from ceiling to floor, end to end, with movies.
She glanced back at him. “So, you’re a bar tending charming sex king who’s also a movie buff?”
He smirked, dropping onto the edge of his bed as he thought about it. “Nope, just a vampire that loves all-night movie binges.”
“It’s not what I expected.” She said, stalking through his room, taking in every little nuance. Comparing the space to him. She grazed her fingers over the cover of a book stacked on his nightstand.
“What did you expect?”
“A sex swing hanging from the center of the room?”
“Fair enough.” He smirked, kicking his shoes off. “I deserve that.”
Riley picked up the book from the nightstand and thumbed through it. “This is in Italian.”
“That’s right.”
“You know Italian?”
“No, I like looking at the pretty words.”
She glared at him. “I can see some of your brother rubbed off on you.”
“Trust me, the only bad habit I picked up from Damien is the love for the bottle.”
She eyed the glasses next to the stack of books and stared him down with suspicion. “You wear these?”
“I do.”
“Vampires need corrective lenses?”
“We do when we’re born wolves.”
She picked them up and came to the end of the bed, her curiosity beaming, and handed them to him. “Put them on.”
He arched a brow. “Where’s my please?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please.”
He’d play into her curiosity. Most people didn’t care enough to know him beyond surface level. Usually they were too distracted and shrouded in darkness with his cock buried deep.
With a lopsided grin, he put them on, and something flickered in her eyes then softened.
“You’re two distinct people. Out there,” She pointed toward the door. “You’re this charming guy who runs Juleps. But in here you’re more.”
It was easy to play the passive, charming bartender and owner. Flash his smile and people flocked to him. Sometimes he craved for more than vanity attention.
“And which princess am I getting now?”
She shifted her weight. “Maybe that’s it. I’m not the princess at all.”
Curious. He recognized secrets buried deep because he had his own. Secrets even his brothers didn’t know. Could I make this girl break for me? With only a look, will she crumble?
“Maybe you’re getting just me.”
“You don’t want to be a princess?”
“Not that princess.”
I’d make you a queen.
It was the subtle glint of darkness flashing in her eyes, piquing his curiosity. The drive to pull back every little layer and delve deeper overshadowed the desire pulsing in his dick. I’ll sate that ache when I’m good and ready.
“I have an idea,” he pushed himself back on the bed to the pillows. “Come here.”
With all the sass he knew was coming, she crossed her arms and popped her sexy petite hip out. Wasn’t helping the throbbing situation between his legs though.
“I thought we established I wasn’t going to sleep with you?”
He chuckled. “Oh Riley, if my sole intention was to sleep with you, I’d already have you squirming.”
Dropping her arms, smirking, she crawled up on the bed to the spot next to him. “You Frost men are entirely too confident for your own good.”
“We’re going to play a game,” he propped himself up on his elbow. “Twenty questions.”
“This sounds like a possibly dangerous game to play with you.”
Only if you let it be.
“No question is off limits but if you choose not to answer then you offer an article of clothing instead.”
A devious smile crept up on her lips. “I accept the terms.”
He grunted with a smirk, and laid back with his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. “Ladies first.”
He was an open book. Let her poke, prod, and dive deep.
“Hmm, what does one ask centuries old vampire? Firsts come to mind.”
He peeked open an eye to take her in. “Wouldn’t want
to make you blush.”
“No,” she shook her head. “First times only make you blush because of embarrassment. Never because of anything else.”
“Fire away.”
Open. Book.
“Who was your first love?”
His eyes shot open. Okay, I lied. I’m not an open book. Of all the questions she could have, the one burning to ask is who his first love is? Fuck. He clenched his jaw, eyes fluttered shut as big brown eyes stared back at him behind his lids. Wisps of golden curls framed an innocent youth.
“I can ask a—”
“No,” He sighed. “Rules are rules.”
He sat up, pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor, then settled back, hands behind his head. Her gaze raked over him and it wasn’t desire dominating her cutely pinched brow, but curiosity.
“What do you see?”
“Does that count as your question?” she asked finally making her way back to his face.
He grinned with a nod. “Sure.”
Usually it was the intricate lines and splashes of color painting his flanks and arms fingers traced but not her. She reached out with hesitant fingertips to whisper over a small rough patch of skin below his navel.
“I thought vampires heal too fast to scar.”
“Depends on how serious the wound is, some can scar but that one was from before.”
“Right, you were born a wolf. What happened?”
“Is that your question?” She nodded. “Wolves turn at thirteen like cats. Julian chained us down in the basement when we did. And if he was in a particularly foul mood, he tormented us with wolfsbane.”
The smallest splash of the poison was like being set on fire from the inside out. Searing to every inch of purchasable space in the veins. Believing death might be a better option. He was a cruel son of a bitch. Whatever Ollie got, though, Lucien got tenfold.
“Your father was a dick.”
“Wasn’t my father.”
Never really was. Lucien was more father than Julian ever lived up to.
She swallowed, letting out a tiny breath, before moving to straddle his hips. He stayed on his back, hands behind his head, watching her fingers graze over nuances. The touch so light he had to see it to know it was there. She traced down his right side, following the path of a lengthy line stretching from his armpit down to his waist.