by Tessa Bailey
When they were a few feet from the entrance, the doorman stepped to one side, holding the door open. Just like the last two times he’d encountered this guy, the doorman’s expression turned distasteful at the sight of Rory—and his confidence dipped momentarily. The guy had every right to regard him like a miscreant. Hadn’t he just fucked his sweet, beautiful girlfriend in public—hard and from behind—like the depraved asshole he was?
Olive tightened her grip on his hand and smiled up at him, though, and Rory remembered how she’d sighed into his chest when he picked her up. How she’d begged and gone down on her knees willingly. Eagerly. No, she’d been right there with him. He needed to respect that she knew her own mind, this incredibly intelligent girl.
Her smile dipped when she saw how the doorman sneered at Rory, her mouth opening in an outraged O. “Mike, this is Rory. He’s going to be here. A lot.” She leaned into Rory’s side and passed through the entrance, her chin raised. “We bid you goodnight.”
As soon as they were in the elevator, Rory let out the laugh he’d been holding, and Olive joined him. “We bid you goodnight?”
She pressed her palms to her pinkening cheeks. “Oh God. It seemed appropriate in my head, but then I just sounded like the dad from Mary Poppins.”
Rory pulled her into his arms, his body still shaking with amusement. “It was cute.”
Olive tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “That’s not the first time he looked at you like that, is it?”
Reluctantly, he shook his head.
“You should have told me.” She ran her hands up his chest, over his neck and into his hair. “It’s not okay. He doesn’t even know you.”
The elevator slowed to a stop and Rory swallowed. “You don’t know all of me yet, either. Is that something you really want, sunbeam?”
She knew he referred to the truth of the night he was arrested. Her solemn expression made that obvious. “Yes. I do.”
When the metal door slid open, Olive took Rory’s hand and led him into a carpeted hallway with sconces on the walls and apartment numbers engraved on golden plaques. He was glad to see the cameras located on either end of the hallway. It meant she’d be safe. Which meant he’d sleep soundly at night. The tight security didn’t make him feel any less out of place, but he focused on the hand inside his. How she gripped him so tightly and continued to throw reassuring looks over her shoulder, as if to say, you belong. You’re here because I need you.
Rory took a deep breath…and made the choice to believe her.
Olive stopped outside the door at the north end of the hallway, sliding her key into the lock and letting them inside. She flipped on the light and the first thing Rory saw was books. So many books. They were color coded and arranged on shelves, stacked on tables, in piles on the floor. Swanky or not, this place had Olive written on every inch of it. So he felt nothing but comfortable as he entered, following her lead and kicking off his shoes near the door.
He watched as she flitted from room to room, turning on lights and toeing stacks of books out of the way. She cleared paperwork off her kitchen table and looked at her reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator, patting down little flyaway hairs and fixing smudged eye makeup. They traded a laugh when she pressed a few buttons on her laptop and the sounds of Sting’s voice singing “Fields of Gold” filled up the apartment. Watching her set the mood was so fucking enjoyable, he had to tear his attention away to take in the rest of the apartment.
Straight ahead was the connected dining room and kitchen, which she’d painted a sunny yellow, two vases of daisies perched on the counter and table. Her Freud towel was drying over the back of a chair, and she’d left a half-drunk mug of tea beside an open textbook. To his left was a small living room, complete with a big trunk that doubled as a coffee table—and a suede couch, a pillow that looked as if it came from her bed on one end. That room led to a balcony with a view of the beach that had Rory whistling under his breath.
“You don’t even need to walk to the beach to visit me,” he said. “You can probably see me from here.”
“Nope. I’ve tried,” she returned, swinging around the kitchen’s partition wall and sliding toward him in her socks. “The up-close version of you is better, anyway.”
He leaned down and brushed their mouths together. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She studied him, as if trying to gauge his reaction to the expensive apartment. Rory smiled back, letting her know he didn’t give a shit where they were, as long as it was the same place. “Come on,” she murmured, pleasure softening her features even more. “I believe you requested a shower curtain and towel viewing.”
Watching her tush sway on the way down the short hallway, Rory made an appreciative sound. “On second thought, maybe that can wait.”
He reached for Olive, but she evaded him with a giggle, dancing into the bathroom and flipping on the light. “May I present proof of my adulting skills.”
Rory craned his neck to peer into the immaculate bathroom…and dropped his head forward on a chuckle. Her shower curtain was a retro version of Belle from Beauty and the Beast. The cartoon character was naked—except for some well-placed books—and the towels were the exact shade of the purple streak in her hair.
“All right, baby, that’s pretty cute.” He slapped off the light and tugged her out of the bathroom, kissing her as they swayed down the hallway. “But if you’ve got Disney characters on your bedsheets, we might have a problem.”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “How late is Bed Bath & Beyond open?”
Rory narrowed his eyes.
“I’m kidding. They’re a tasteful heather gray.”
“Phew.”
There was another balcony attached to her bedroom, he saw, when the glow from her bedside table lamp was turned on. He went over to inspect, unlocking and sliding open the door to find a deckchair wedged in the corner. “You sunbathe out here?” He stepped outside and turned in a circle, noting how many other windows looked out onto that exact spot. “Ah, baby. You’re trying to kill me.”
“What?”
Don’t be a possessive asshole. “Nothing.” He looked back to find her sitting on the side of her huge, fluffy bed, complete with furry throw pillows. So soft and sexy and female in her pretty dress and the muted lamp light. “I can’t help wanting to be the only one who looks at you.” He reentered the room and advanced on her, loving the way her eyes raked over him, her body reclining slightly on the bed, as if she couldn’t help lying down for him. “I want you to know I’ve never been jealous. Not in my entire life. It’s all for you, so it’s…strong.”
“You don’t want me in my bathing suit on the balcony?”
“I want you to do it, even though it makes me crazy.” He stepped between her thighs and eased her all the way down onto the bed. “Don’t give me too many inches, okay, sunbeam? You’ll tempt me to take a mile.”
“I can do that.” Her breath caught as he lowered the side zipper on her dress and tugged off the garment, leaving it on the end of the bed. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, staring down at perfection in panties and glasses. Nothing but panties and glasses. He trailed his fingertips from her neck, down between her bare breasts, circling them around her belly button. Watching her stomach hollow. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Olive Cunningham.” Rory stripped off his T-shirt and scooped her up, placing her in the center of the bed and setting her glasses out of harm’s way. Leaving his jeans on so he wouldn’t be tempted too soon, he dropped down beside her onto his back, stacking his hands underneath his head and staring up at the ceiling. “If I never brought up what happened tonight on the boardwalk…who we ran into…would you ask me?”
“No, but it would kill me,” she whispered, running her fingertips up and down the center of his chest. “Just like you can’t help being jealous, I can’t help being curious.”
God, it felt good lying with her there in the near-dark. Talking, touching, no fucking time limit. It wasn’t goin
g to be an easy telling, but he would never be more comfortable unburdening himself than he was there, with Olive, in that moment. “Thanks. For letting me get here in my own time.” They traded a long look that made his heart squeeze. “The night I was arrested…” He tried to clear the discomfort from his throat, but it wasn’t going anywhere. “I was walking home from the Hut. Right there along the boardwalk, where we were tonight—and I couldn’t get a hold of Jamie. We were supposed to meet up for a beer. It’s not like him to flake. He’s always on time, always got something sarcastic to say when I show up late. But I was on time that night and he wasn’t there.”
Rory knew he was lingering over the insignificant details to delay what was coming, so he forced himself to push ahead.
“I went to Jamie’s assigned chair, thinking maybe he’d stayed late because some kids were still swimming—and I saw some older guys. They were in the water. Looked like they were wrestling or something, so I started to head back up to the boardwalk, but I heard one of them say Jamie. Say my brother’s name.” Rory closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the anger that heated his blood. All these years later, he couldn’t control it. “That guy we saw tonight. He was holding Jamie under the water.”
Olive’s skin turned icy against Rory’s and he instinctively turned and gathered her into his arms, rubbing circles onto her naked back, grateful for the job. It was a distraction from his leftover rage.
“They were letting him back up to breathe. They weren’t…I don’t think they were planning on drowning him. But they were drunk. I could tell that a mile away, could hear it in their voices. They could have made a mistake, you know? And there were five of them. Five on one.” His chest felt like it was caving in. “I’ve always been a fighter, baby, but I’ve never fought unfairly like that.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Olive held him tightly, her face pressed into his neck. “You wouldn’t do that. I know that about you.”
“No. But I would keep hitting someone long after they passed out. I did.” He let out a shaking exhale into her hair. “His four friends couldn’t pull me off. I was an animal. I might have turned on them, too, if the cops hadn’t shown up. Wrestled me off.” He swallowed hard. “I could have killed him. I think I would have, Olive.”
She lifted her head and looked at him, sympathetic and trusting and sad…and he had to get out the rest. Had to get it out before he accepted the comfort he’d never expected and didn’t deserve.
“The guy I attacked…Jamie was the first man he’d been with. And I don’t know, he regretted it. Or hated that he didn’t regret it. But he had some alcohol and decided to take out whatever shit he was feeling on my brother.” He breathed in, breathed out. “What I did to him usually comes with a much longer sentence, but Jamie testified in court. Told the judge he could have…he…”
“He could have been killed,” Olive finished for him, a hitch in her voice. “It’s true, Rory. I don’t think you can let anger make decisions for you. Fighting and injuring someone is never the right answer, but…just hearing you tell the story makes me so mad, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have reacted the same way. I’m not sure anyone could help it.” She gathered him close and he let her, let the fact that she knew everything and still wanted him sink in. Christ, the relief of that made him dizzy. “They could have killed your brother. Seeing that kind of thing happen right in front of you, it’s no wonder you weren’t in your right mind.”
He nodded. “I only remember pieces. Even now.”
“Good. I’m think I’m glad you don’t remember every detail,” she said, smoothing his eyebrows with her thumbs. “Thank you for telling me.”
She brought their mouths together, kissing him softly and Rory made a rough sound. “Dammit, Olive. This shit is too heavy for you. I hate that I put any of this in your head.” He tunneled his fingers through her hair. “You should only hear and see and feel good things.”
For several beats, she only regarded him quietly. “The best endings come after a bad start. Good is only good if you’ve seen enough bad to appreciate it.”
If Rory hadn’t fallen in love with her at first sight, it would have happened right there, lying in the center of her bed in that ritzy as hell apartment. He was so fucking deep in love with her, he was never going to reach the bottom. The rest of his life would consist of sinking, down, down, down, further into love with this girl. Olive. His Olive.
“Talk to me,” he rasped, running his palm over the valley of her side, resting it on her hip. “Tell me about school. Tell me about the last book you read. I want to hear about every second you spent away from me today.”
She snuggled closer, the peaks of her tits pressing into his chest hair, and Rory stifled a groan. “Um, okay. While I was in class today, I…was in deep, deep concentration—”
“Good girl.”
“—listening for your bike engine to come back.”
“Ah.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek. “Shit. Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Nope, definitely not.”
They shared a quiet laugh, their bodies pressing closer, her bare feet tucking between his calves, her warm pussy resting against the bulge behind his fly. Hell and heaven fucking collide. There wasn’t a chance of Rory keeping his right hand from sneaking over her hip to grip that sweet, little butt, molding it in his palm.
“Um.” Color stained her cheeks. “The last book I read was called You Are a Badass.”
Rory raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see that coming,” he drawled. “Did you find out you already are a badass?”
“Yes. But it never helps to learn new tips and tricks.”
“Maybe.” Rory used his grip on her backside to grind her against his lap, taking her mouth in a no-bullshit kiss. When he freed her mouth, he was pleased to find her panting. “Look, Olive. I know I’ve had some issues with you being so young.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
“Quiet, badass.” He slapped her tush and swallowed her resulting gasp with his mouth, drawing her into a kiss that had them both moaning. “Yeah, I made your age into a problem, but I want you to know…it isn’t one, anymore. You moved here alone, set up this place exactly how you wanted it. You’re going to school and making friends. You’re killing it for any age, sunbeam.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Am I allowed to be proud of you?”
“I’ll allow it,” Olive said haltingly. “It’s really nice, actually. Having someone be proud of me.” She paused. “I know I should be grateful to my parents…the channel allows me to live in a place like this and go to school without worrying about loans, but sometimes I think I’d wish it all away just to hear them say I’m doing a good job.”
The sadness in her voice shredded his insides. “I’ve never had a whole lot of money, Olive, but I know there’s no amount that could replace time with you. Proud of you? I’m blown away. As far as I’m concerned, you got here on your own—and thank God you did.” He swallowed. “My family can be yours. Me, Andrew, Jamie, Jiya. You’ve already got me, but there’s an us, too, when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” Olive blinked a few times, dipped her head and lifted it again. She smiled, slinging a leg over Rory’s hips and straddling him. “Now this,” she breathed, looking down at him from beneath weighted eyelids. “…is badass.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, following her lead and changing the subject, because he sensed she needed to. “Depends what you do from up there.”
He lifted her with his hips—and Olive let out a yelp of pain.
Rory jackknifed, his heart firing up into his throat. “Oh my God. What happened?” He ran his hands over her body, searching for injury, his pulse drumming in his ears. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”
“No, it’s fine.” She clasped his face between her hands. “It’s fine, it just turns out…well, I wasn’t expecting it, but I’m just a little, uh…sore. Tender. Down there.”
“Jesus.” He scrubbed at the pain in his c
hest, but that only made it worse. “Wait here. I’m going to go throw myself off the balcony.”
“Would you stop it?” She laughed, pushing him back down onto the bed, locking their lips together and gradually pressing their lower bodies together. As if he wasn’t consumed by enough guilt, his cock reacted to the warm pressure of her pussy like a fucking torpedo preparing to launch. “It’s just a little sore, but…I still want you,” she murmured, gently rolling her hips. “Really bad.”
Rory twisted his fingers in the sheets and waited for his eyes to uncross. “Are you sure, sunbeam? You’re not just saying that because I’m hard? Because I hate to break it to you, it’s like that any time you’re around.” He waited until she met his gaze. “We don’t have to do a damn thing. I will lie here and hold you. It’ll be more than I could ever ask for.”
“Really not making me want you any less,” she whispered, right before unzipping his jeans and tugging the denim down, along with his briefs, leaving them bunched at his knees. When she crawled back up for a kiss, Rory kicked his garments the rest of the way off, greeting her with his tongue and lips. He didn’t know whether to lose himself in the taste of her mouth or marvel over the gorgeous tits swaying above his chest, the thighs moving restlessly on the outsides of his. Mostly, more than anything on the planet, he just wanted to get her off. Because she needed it.
“Baby,” he managed in between long, drugging kisses. “I don’t have to be inside of you. To make you come.” He reached down and fisted his cock, moving it up and back between her thighs, cursing over the slickness between her folds. “Rub your little clit on me. Enjoy my cock. It’s there for your personal use.”
A shudder wracked Olive and she fell forward onto his chest, her hips shifting as she found the exact right angle…and Rory watched with satisfaction as her eyes rolled back in her head, her hips beginning to pump, sliding her pussy up and down his swollen cock. “Rory,” she choked out. “Oh God. It’s so sensitive.”