“Where to?”
Olivia rattled off her address in Midtown as he pulled into traffic. They rode in silence, with Cole stealing a sidelong glance at her every few minutes to see how she was holding up. He did his best to watch his speed and avoid jostling the car too much, but he could tell she wasn’t tolerating the ride well. She didn’t complain, but every now and then a little squeak would escape as he braked or hit a bump in the road.
When he pulled up in front of her building and double parked, her renewed protests fell on deaf ears.
“I can get upstairs by myself,” she assured him, pulling her jacket tight around her shoulders to ward off the chilly spring breeze. “You’re going to get a ticket.”
“Trust me.” He smiled and offered her his hand, which she took without further argument. He looked up the block, taking note of the pharmacy two doors down, before shutting the door. “A parking ticket is the least of my concerns right now. Let’s just get you up to bed.”
Olivia led the way to her apartment, pausing at the door to dig the keys out of her purse. Her hand shook as she handed them to him. Fortunately, she didn’t have a lot of keys on the ring, and he got it right on the second try.
He followed her into the dark apartment, thankful for the glow of city lights which provided just enough visibility to find the counter and drop her bags.
“Why don’t you get changed and lie down?” he offered. “I’m going to run down to the pharmacy and see if I can get my hands on that prescription of yours.”
She chewed on her bottom lip indecisively, but then nodded. “Imitrex. It should be ready.”
Fifteen minutes later he had secured street parking and made the pharmacy run, only to return and find Olivia sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and set it on her nightstand with the prescription. It would be there if she woke during the night and needed it.
Her soft snores called to him, reminding him of their first night together. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he remembered how soundly she’d slept, and how she’d burrowed under the covers. He indulged the memory by pulling her comforter up and tucking it around her shoulders. When a loose strand of hair fell on her cheek, he pushed it back without a second thought. Even asleep, she was beautiful, and for the first time, he sensed vulnerability in her tough exterior. He needed to comfort her, to reach out and stroke her hair, sweep his hands over her cheek, and take away her pain.
Seeing her there, so peaceful and serene with the moonlight casting a gentle glow across her face, he caught a flash of a different life. One that traded meaningless sex for evenings by the fire and the companionship of a woman whose happiness and well-being meant more to him than his own.
Only that life wasn’t really meant for him. He’d learned that lesson well. Even if he wanted it, he’d just screw it up and it would fall apart. Besides, it didn’t really matter what he wanted. Olivia would never give him a chance. She’d made that abundantly clear.
…
The smell of fresh brewed coffee teased Olivia, testing her will to stay curled up in bed under the covers. She fought the good fight for about five waking seconds before abandoning the effort, her stomach leading the way to the kitchen. She shuffled down the short hall, finger-combing her hair and giving thanks to coffee fairies everywhere for the heavenly brew percolating in her coffee pot. It was just what the doctor ordered after a skull-splitting migraine.
She froze when she reached the kitchen and realized Rufus the fish had company. Sitting at her bar, looking irritatingly chipper as he worked on his iPad, was Cole. What the hell was he doing in her kitchen? And why hadn’t she taken the five seconds to brush her freaking hair? Or her teeth, for that matter?
“Good morning,” he offered, giving her a dimpled grin. Figured. Of course he’d be a morning person, something she could only claim after two cups of espresso roast.
“You’re not the coffee fairy.”
“I know nothing of coffee fairies,” Cole admitted, grinning from ear to ear, “but I can offer you a piping cup and a hot breakfast. I figured you’d be hungry after last night.”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, crossing her arms over her breasts self-consciously. She was starving, but there was no way she was sitting down to breakfast with him wearing the world’s thinnest, once-white tank top and no bra. She wasn’t that hungry.
She bolted back to her bedroom and threw a hoodie on over her tank. By the time she returned, Cole had laid out a smorgasbord of breakfast food. He had croissants, eggs, bacon, fruit salad, muffins, and yogurt. It was overkill, but her stomach growled appreciatively.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he explained, “so I got a little bit of everything. I might have gone overboard.”
“Little bit,” she joked, pinching her fingers together. She didn’t know what Cole was doing in her kitchen, but she wasn’t about to let a hot meal go to waste when her cabinets were surely bare. She loaded up a plate and joined him at the bar.
“I didn’t want to leave you alone until I was sure you were feeling okay,” he offered as she bit into a buttery croissant. The flaky pastry melted on her tongue and she was sure she’d died and gone to heaven. She tore off a large chunk and popped it into her mouth. Simply. Divine. “You were in pretty rough shape last night,” he reminded her.
The concern in his voice ripped Olivia from her food reverie. Just as well. Probably best to clear the air before she ate herself into a food coma.
“I’m sorry about last night.” She sighed, dropping the half-eaten croissant to her plate. Why had he come home with her anyway? She knew from personal experience he had better things to do on a Friday night than play Florence Nightingale. “I didn’t mean to completely wreck your evening.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He reached out and touched her hand, sending a shiver racing down her spine. “I stayed because I wanted to. It’s what friends do for each other.”
“Yes, I seem to recall hearing that last night,” she said, hastily removing her hand from his and tucking it safely between her knees. Now was not the time to let him get all touchy-feely, not when she still had warm fuzzies from him taking care of her the night before. “But, as you can see, I’m fine. Nothing a little sleep and a good meal can’t fix. Speaking of which, thank you for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.” He eyed her seriously and Olivia fought the urge to wipe her mouth. Crap. Did she have jelly on her face? Hard to tell, but definitely possible. “I’m just glad to see you’re feeling better.”
“Good as new.” She poked at her fruit salad. “In fact, once I get cleaned up, I’m going to head over to the office.”
Cole bristled. She could actually see his body tense up at her words. “Why don’t you relax and take the day off? There’s no need to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine. Besides, we only have two weeks left to pull something together for Vixen. Relaxation is a luxury we can’t afford.”
“You knew that migraine was coming on last night, didn’t you?” he asked, leveling her with his eyes.
“What do you mean?” she countered, buying herself some time. What did it matter if she knew? It couldn’t be stopped. And she really didn’t want him to think the headaches were a regular occurrence. The last thing she needed was for him to decide she couldn’t handle the pressure. She could handle the pressure as well as anyone.
“You kept rubbing your fingers together,” he mused, “like you knew it was coming.”
Damn him for being so freaking observant. She had two choices: lie and look like a weird, finger-rubbing freak, or take her chances with the truth. As much as she hated showing weakness, the alternative didn’t hold much appeal either.
“Sometimes I have an aura before a particularly bad migraine.”
His face was a blank slate. “An aura?”
“It means I have early warning signs,” she explained with a smile. Finally, something the man didn’
t know. “It’s like pins and needles in my fingers, sort of like when your foot falls asleep.”
“You are quite possibly the most stubborn human being on the face of the earth,” he blurted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say something? Your health is more important than any campaign.”
“It’s no big deal,” she argued, crossing her arms and digging in her heels. “I figured we were almost done and they don’t usually come on that fast.”
“And you didn’t want me to think you’re weak and couldn’t handle the pressure.”
Damn, he was perceptive. “That, too,” she admitted, avoiding his eyes.
“Olivia, no one in their right might would ever accuse you of being weak. We are going to nail that account. Together,” he promised, an impish smile pulling at his lips as he studied her sweatshirt. “Right after you tell me what, exactly, an Apple Blossom Princess is.”
Chapter Twelve
Olivia yawned and reached for her coffee. It was pushing midnight and they were the only ones left in the office. It had been like this for the last three days. Long hours, lots of frustration, and not nearly enough caffeine to balance it out. Cole knew she was waiting for him to call it quits. The woman was as stubborn as they came, which might have been sexy any other day. With the pressure mounting, they’d practically taken up residence in the conference room, abandoning their offices for the duration of the project. It was easier that way.
Easier except for the part where he was boxed up in a tiny, claustrophobic room, drowning in her scent and completely unable to concentrate on anything except all of the ways he wanted her. It was counterproductive, to say the least.
He watched from beneath his lashes as Olivia stretched, arching her back. Such a simple gesture, but it unhinged him. The desire to caress her, run his hands over her body, rose unbidden. He’d been on his best behavior for the last couple of days, but it was getting old. He was tired of pretending he didn’t want Olivia on her back screaming his name. Even more so, he was tired of her denying their connection.
“You’re kidding, right?” She threw his most recent proposal across the table. It skidded over the edge and landed in his lap.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Aside from the fact that it’s tired?” Olivia scrunched her nose in disgust. “It’s not even the right target audience.”
“I beg to diff—”
“God, you are such a man.” She rolled her eyes. “Always thinking with the little head. There’s nothing new about supermodels strutting around in thong underwear, although I’m sure it’s nice for you to look at.”
Damn. Even her sarcasm was sexy. “I’d rather look at you.”
Olivia stared directly at him. She wasn’t smiling, but there was definitely a hint of…something…in her eyes for a moment, before the cool mask came back down. “Has it occurred to you that that approach”—she nodded toward his proposal— “is exactly what got McKenzie fired?”
“Do you have a better idea?” he asked.
“Did you even look at the data?” she asked, as she began paging through the research binders she’d created. She highlighted something in yellow and passed the book to him. “Men only buy lingerie twice a year: anniversaries and Valentine’s Day. Vixen needs a campaign that will draw regular, repeat customers. We need to make the women want it.” She paused and stared straight at him, challenging him to refute her assessment. “You’re good at knowing what women want. Any ideas?”
He skimmed through the highlighted material. He was definitely distracted, but he couldn’t argue with her logic. It was all right there in black and white. Facts could be manipulated, but they didn’t lie.
“This is really impressive, Olivia.” He shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew she was sharp, but he hadn’t expected her to be such a talented researcher. She managed to make even statistics sexy.
“Of course it is,” Olivia said bluntly. “I know what I’m doing. I was on track to be partner a few weeks ago, remember?”
“Are you ever going to forgive me for that?”
“I don’t have any current plans to, no.” Olivia had turned her attention back to her binders.
Cole ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and let out a groan. “Do you have any idea how goddamn infuriating you can be?”
“I’m infuriating?” Olivia stood up from her chair and came toward him, her eyes blazing and her face flushed pink. “I’m not the one who keeps trying to fuck his employee.”
God, she was so hot when she was angry. He could smell her perfume, the scent of summer flooding his senses. His cock responded instantly. How the hell was he supposed to sit there, alone with her and surrounded by lingerie and pictures of half-naked women, and not think about bending her over the table and fucking the ever-loving daylights out of her? She was smart and sexy, the kind of woman you couldn’t let go of once you’d had a taste. He was only human, for fuck’s sake, and they had unfinished business.
“Olivia.” He looked directly at her. A deep flush swept down her neck and disappeared into the V of her blouse. The buttons strained against the soft cotton as her full breasts rose and fell with each shallow breath.
“Yeah?” She took a step toward him, not taking her eyes off his.
“I want to fuck you.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air. “Right. Now.”
Olivia’s body reacted swiftly to the proclamation. Her nipples hardened. Her pupils dilated. “I want to fuck you, too,” she said, almost too softly for him to hear, but her body was screaming signals he couldn’t miss.
He needed to know if she was wet. He stood, forcing the back of her legs against the table. Olivia let out a low moan of pleasure. She looked up at him from beneath impossibly long lashes, lust churning in her eyes. Cole leaned into her, pressing his body to hers. She held her ground, strands of silky, honey-blond hair tickling his cheek. When he placed a hand on her stomach, she trembled and he could feel her muscles expand and contract at his touch, could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her blouse. If he wasn’t turned on already, that would have done the job. The way her body responded to him was empowering. His hand travelled up her stomach, splaying over her full breasts.
Cole paused. Olivia’s heart hammered erratically against his palm, confirming her arousal.
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, sweeping the loose hair back. He lowered his mouth to her ear, letting her feel the heat of his breath. “I want to bury myself so deep in you that you forget where you end and I begin.”
“Yes.”
It was a whisper, but it was all he needed. Grabbing Olivia’s hips, he lifted her onto the table. Her legs spread easily for him and he gave silent thanks for the loose fitting skirt as he wedged himself between her soft thighs.
“Tonight, you’re mine.”
Olivia grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him oh-so-temptingly close. She leaned in for a kiss, but he held her at bay. Turnabout was fair play, and she’d been denying him for weeks.
“Not yet.” He placed a hand on her chest, driving her down until her back was flat against the table. “I want to taste you first. All of you.”
Olivia’s hips twitched in anticipation as he pushed the silky fabric of her skirt up over her thighs, massaging and teasing along the way. His fingers slid over her hips, meeting no resistance, only milky white skin.
“No panties?” he growled, kneading the tender flesh between his fingers.
“Laundry day.” She gave him a dirty smile. “Must be your lucky day.”
Christ. He was hard as a rock. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he wasn’t going to last. But he always made good on his promises and he would have every inch of her before the night was through.
…
This was happening.
Cole pulled her to the edge of the table and dropped to his knees. This had escalated faster than she’d expected. She should put a stop to it. Like, right now. Her heart leapt into her throat, a
million emotions barreling toward her all at once. With her head and body at war, she couldn’t think straight. His fingers massaged her thighs, easing a tension so deep she was certain it had settled into her bones. When he placed a gentle kiss on her knee, lust won out.
She moaned as his tongue cut a path up the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. The stubble lining his cheek pricked at the tender skin, creating a new and tantalizing sensation. She remembered the last time they’d come together and the ache between her legs grew, throbbing in anticipation. There was no turning back now. She was on dangerous ground letting him back in, but damn, he knew what he was doing.
Olivia surrendered to the moment, giving into the pleasure he offered there and then. She melted in his hands as they slipped under her body, lifting her sex to him. She held her breath, desperate for contact.
When Cole’s tongue darted out, tasting her, she cried out with pleasure, hips bucking toward heaven. He placed a firm hand on her abdomen, pinning her back to the cool table. He seemed to know her body better than she knew it herself as his tongue circled her, slipping between the folds of her skin and sending electricity shooting through her.
How was she supposed to give this up? No man had ever given her the kind of sexual gratification Cole could provide. Whether it was experience or innate ability, she needed him. With him, her inhibitions were stripped away, leaving only carnal pleasure the likes of which no other man could match.
“Christ, you’re wet. You’ve been waiting for this all week, haven’t you? Waiting for me to lick you right… here.”
“Yes!” she cried out, desperate for more. She needed his tongue, his fingers, his cock. She needed it all. With all of her nerves firing, she gripped the edge of the table as her body tensed for release. She called his name, begging him to push her over the edge into oblivion, but he refused to let her go. He was enjoying himself, maybe as much as she was, though she didn’t know how that could even be possible.
Every time she neared climax, Cole pulled back. Damn him. He enjoyed controlling her. She knew it all the way down to her curled toes. He relished in the fact that he owned her body and could make it react to his every whim.
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