VEGAS follows you home

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VEGAS follows you home Page 21

by Sadie Grubor


  Stepping around the staircase, I see Alex sitting in his high chair with a wooden spoon and large white bowl. Walking closer to the open kitchen, I notice Olivia swaying around.

  "Dad," Alex blurts, causing Olivia to spin around. "Bake cake," he says, his proud smile outlined in chocolate.

  "I see that, buddy."

  "Actually, we're making cupcakes," Olivia clarifies in an unusually shy manner before giving a small shrug. "I guess I can only stop baking for so long before the desire resurfaces."

  "I'm not complaining." I smile wide. "This place has never smelled so amazing."

  "Yum," Alex hums.

  I move toward my chocolate covered son and kiss his head.

  "I'm going to take a shower."

  Olivia, having just placed a pan in the oven, turns at my statement.

  "We should probably get going in about an hour. Preferably before Scarlett begins nagging me."

  She smiles so warmly, my chest tingles and my arms ache to reach for her.

  "Okay." She nods and waves a hand over the messy counter. "I'll clean this up and get Alex and myself ready to go."

  Around noon, we pull into Heidi and my father's driveway. Heidi eagerly pushes their butler out of her way so she can scoop Alex out of Olivia's arms.

  "There's my super handsome baby boy," she coos, placing kisses on his cheeks.

  Giggling, he pushes her face away.

  "Idee!" he exclaims.

  We follow the two of them into the house. Once Heidi has convinced Olivia everything will be fine, we leave Alex and his things for the overnight stay.

  Back in the car and on our way to the stadium, we fight the New York traffic. I figure this time alone is the perfect opportunity to ask some of the questions I have for her.

  "I don't want to upset you, but I'd really like to talk while we are alone."

  "Okay," she says, sounding hesitant.

  "I'd like to know about your decision to have Alex."

  Her head snaps in my direction. "No."

  "No?" I furrow my brow, keeping my eyes on traffic.

  "No," she affirms. "We are going to talk about why I had to hear about Rebecca and DJ from Scarlett and Hugh." From the corner of my eye, I see her cross her arms over her chest, her eyes planted firmly on me.

  "They shouldn't have—"

  "Well, they did and I want the whole story, Damon. All of it," she demands.

  When I stay silent, her arms drop from her chest.

  "Did they tell me everything or is there more?" she asks, her voice softer than before.

  This is my chance, the chance to come clean.

  "They told you what happened, and…"

  "And what, Damon?" she presses.

  "And it's the whole story." The words leave my mouth, my stomach flips, and instantly I want to take them back.

  "Okay," she exhales, turning to look quietly out the window.

  The rest of the drive is uncomfortably quiet. It's not until I'm leading her toward the company box that I obtain the courage I need.

  "Olivia," I say, stopping us at the door to the box. "I need to—"

  "You're here!" Scarlett exclaims, drawing Olivia's attention. She scans Olivia in her t-shirt, hooded jacket, and jeans. "Look at you all Yanked out! The colors are amazing on you." She winks, grabbing Olivia's hand and pulling her inside. "The drinks are over here."

  "Oh, so it's going to be one of those games today?" I raise a brow, teasing Scarlett.

  "Shush it, Patty! Olivia and I are going to have girl time. Go play with Hugh." She pulls Olivia away.

  "You follow baseball, right?"

  Olivia nods. "Yeah. My father is a big fan and we spend a lot of time watching together."

  "Great," Scarlett sighs out. "It's so nice to be around someone who gets it for a change."

  They huddle together next to the café style table lined with an assortment of drinks.

  As I take a step toward Olivia, Hugh walks in front of me, holding up a beer.

  "I'd leave them be." He glances toward Scarlett and Olivia as they move to the seating area. "Scarlett will verbally attack with more than your middle name if you don’t."

  Nodding my understanding, I raise the import beer to him.

  "Thank you." I put the bottle to my lips.

  "It's the least I can do since my fiancé will be monopolizing your…wife." He gives his head a small shake. "I'm still not used to that."

  The two of us move to a set of cushioned chairs with a small table between. We're discussing the Proneau resolution when Scarlett interrupts us from across the room.

  "Damon Knyght, do you have any idea who you married?"

  Scarlett is twisted around on the couch, looking over the back, her wide eyes fixed on me.

  "I'm pretty sure her name is Olivia." I smile, taking a pull from my beer.

  From over the glass bottle, I watch Scarlett leap up and stalk toward me. She takes my beer, smacks me on the arm, and puts the bottle back on the table.

  Hugh chuckles and I give him a quick glare. He covers his smile and looks adoringly at his fiancé.

  "You are married to Olivia Harlow, smartass." She plants her hands on her hips.

  Glancing around Scarlett, I look at a red-faced Olivia.

  "Okay," I respond, still not understanding Scarlett's behavior.

  "Harlow, Damon! As in, Harlow Cakes. Why didn't you tell me?"

  "What does the bakery have to do with—?”

  She smacks me again, adding a huff this time.

  "I let the first one slide. I won't hesitate to retaliate if you hit me again. This is your only warning."

  We stare at each other for a moment.

  "Damon, she's famous. She makes some of the most amazing cakes. She's been featured in wedding magazines and on TV shows," Scarlett informs with a slight slur.

  Glancing around Scarlett to Olivia, I mouth, “Really?”

  She nods her crimson stained face.

  "It's really not enough to make me famous, like Scarlett is insinuating."

  Scarlett looks back at Olivia. "Don't be modest. Your work is quite beautiful. At least, what I've seen."

  With a small shrug, I look back to Scarlett. "Her social stature isn't exactly my main attraction." I wiggle my brows.

  "Behave yourself, Damon," Scarlett playfully scolds, glancing back toward Olivia. "You're lucky she didn't hear you," Scarlett whispers, "but I could always tell her all of the improper ideas you have." Grinning wide, she walks back to the couch and seats herself next to Olivia.

  "You need to get her under control," I chuckle to Hugh.

  "Like that is even possible," Hugh laughs. "Though, trying is quite fun." It was his turn to wiggle his brows.

  We both laugh harder.

  "The game is starting!" Scarlett cheers, pulling Olivia from the couch to the large, full-length windows.

  Hugh and I stay seated, watching the girls drink, laugh, and yell through the glass. Olivia and Scarlett are not only providing entertainment, they are getting along so well, as if they've known each other for forever.

  "Swing-batta-batta-swing," Scarlett yells, her hand smacking the glass. "What the hell was that?" she growls after the batter strikes out. Pouting, she moves toward the small bar. "We need more drinks," she declares.

  "I really need to stop," Olivia argues.

  "Oh, heck no, we are going to eat nachos, hot dogs, pretzels, and drink," Scarlett orders. "Speaking of nachos and hot dogs…" she turns her famous pout on Hugh, "honey, will you get us something to eat?"

  "What do I get in return?" Hugh leans forward in his chair.

  "You get to have your way with my uninhibited body." Twisting her body, she wiggles her ass at him. "And you know I'm up for anything."

  "I don’t want to know this," I groan.

  "I'll be right back." Hugh stands from his chair, quick to run the errand.

  "You're just jealous," Scarlett sticks out her tongue as she makes her way to get more drinks.

 
Olivia is bent over at the waist, laughing at the scene.

  I can only stare at her smiling and enjoying herself. Scarlett, you have no idea how jealous I am.

  Hugh returns in record time, placing baskets and plates on the table between us. Olivia and Scarlett join us, both of them clearly buzzing from the alcohol. They giggle like schoolgirls and laugh over the most ridiculous things throughout the meal and the rest of the game. Hugh and I have to pull the two of them away from each other in order to leave.

  With Olivia in my arms, guiding her to the car, she looks up at me with sleepy eyes.

  "I love Scarlett," she slightly slurs.

  "I can tell she loves you, too."

  Having had a few drinks myself, I help Olivia into the waiting car and slip in next to her.

  "She loves you, too, Damon." Olivia curls against my side.

  Instantly, my body ignites. I want to touch, caress, and grip. Keeping my urges in check, I only allow myself to place an arm around her.

  "Who? Scarlett?" I ask.

  "Mmhmm," she hums. "She speaks so nicely about you."

  "Really?" I ask, genuinely surprised. Though I know Scarlett doesn’t hate me, I never thought she would speak nicely about me to Olivia.

  "Yes." She nods against my side. "She hates the sadness you've endured and wants you to be happy again." Olivia pulls her head away from me and looks up.

  I look down and our eyes meet.

  "She says it's been so long since she's seen you smile. Like truly and really smile." She gazes into my eyes for a moment longer before resting her head back against my side.

  Every muscle in my body catches fire as her hand presses to my chest and slides to my opposite side. She's embracing me. Closing my eyes, I breathe in deep, only to become more aware of her scent and body surrounding mine.

  Too soon, the car pulls up to my building. The driver opens the door. Assisting Olivia from the car, I'm a bit surprised that she is still awake. After all the drinks, food, and physical contact, I was sure she would have fallen asleep. Instead, she takes my hand and, with only a slight stagger, climbs from the car.

  In the elevator, she leans against the wall and bends, taking each shoe off. The chime announces our arrival and, when the doors slide open, we walk the small distance to the apartment. As I work to unlock the door, Olivia catches me off guard — again. She leans against me from behind and presses her cheek to my back.

  Taking a deep breath, I focus on the lock instead of the raging urge to ravage her body against the hallway wall. Twisting harder than necessary, I unlock the door and push it open.

  Olivia pulls away and I want to yank her against me. She steps around me, walking into the apartment. I follow, closing and locking the door behind me. I continue to walk behind her, my attempt to keep her as close as possible, when she suddenly spins around to face me. Her hands plant against my chest.

  "We should call and check on Alex." Her slight slurring reminds me of how much she's had to drink.

  "I'm sure he's fine." I place my hands over hers, reveling in the feel of her touch.

  "No, we need to check on him."

  She slips her hands down my chest and into my pockets.

  "What are you doing?" I ask, attempting to keep her hands from my full erection. Once touch and there is no telling what I'll do to her — drunk or not.

  "I need your phone," she grumbles.

  "He was fine when we called to tell him goodnight." Slipping my phone from my jacket, I hold it out to her.

  "I just need to be sure." Her long fingers slip across the screen before she looks up to me, pouting. "I don't know your security code"

  I want to suck her bottom lip into my mouth.

  "6548," I breathe.

  "What kind of code is that?" She twists her face, entering the numbers.

  "O.L.I.V." I answer.

  Her fingers freeze as her eyes widen and mouth parts on a sharp breath.

  Taking the phone, I call Heidi and Olivia checks on Alex. Once she is satisfied, she stumbles toward the couch and lies down.

  "I love Scarlet. She is so much fun." She throws an arm over her eyes.

  I sit near her, pull her feet into my lap, and begin rubbing.

  "Oh God," she moans, "that feels amazing."

  My cock springs back to life. I move my hands up her calves, kneading the muscles. She moans and my dick throbs. By the time my hands reach her thighs, my jeans are the most comfortable item of clothing I could ever own.

  Inching higher on her thighs, I quickly release her and move down the couch to calm myself.

  "What's wrong?" She lifts her head from the couch, her large eyes focused on me.

  "I…I just need to stop."

  "Oh." Her lips press into a fine line.

  She sits up slowly and tries to stand. Her balance wanes and she tips back.

  Reaching out, I catch her before she falls.

  "Thanks," she giggles.

  Her hands grip my biceps and my breathing labors. Pulling her toward me, it's almost too much — too tempting. Her hip presses against the raging hard-on I've been trying to quell and I pull back.

  "Oh." Her eyes widen.

  I eye the round ‘O’ her mouth has forms, wanting to lick her lips, her skin. Reminding myself of how much she's had to drink, I step back further.

  "You should go to bed," I growl, fighting the need to strip her bare and own every inch of her body.

  "Okay," she whispers.

  I must be delusional to think I hear disappointment in her voice.

  Before she makes it to the stairs, I catch up, making sure she doesn't stumble.

  "I'll bring you water and Tylenol." I leave her at the end of the bed, heading into the bathroom.

  After retrieving the items, I step back into the bedroom. My hold loosens, causing the water and pills fall to the floor. She spins around when the glass clinks against the carpet.

  She’s wearing nothing but a thin, white, cotton tank top and panties.

  In a flash, she snatches the black yoga pants from the bed and holds them in front of her chest as I stalk forward.

  "I was about to—"

  With my chest heaving and my breathing ragged through flared nostrils, I strip the pants from her hands.

  "Damon—" She steps back, her calves pressing against the bed.

  "Fuck, Olivia. You are absolutely beautiful." Dropping the pants to the floor, I grab her arm, pulling her back to my chest. My hands find purchase on her soft hips.

  "We shouldn't—"

  "Don't finish that sentence."

  Sweeping the hair from her neck, I latch my mouth to her glorious skin. Fuck if the taste of her doesn't bring back memories of our night in Vegas.

  She gasps.

  Slipping my left hand from her hip, I cup her bare breast. I knead, sweeping my thumb over her hard nipple.

  She moans.

  Releasing her other hip, I slide downward. My fingers press against her cotton covered lips and rub.

  She bucks her hips on another moan.

  Turning her to face me, I capture her panting breaths with my mouth and press her toward the bed, laying her beneath me. Her weak protest is conquered by my tongue.

  Our tongues thrust against each other, battling for dominance. Her hands caress my neck, slipping into my hair.

  I hover over her body, tearing at my clothes. With limited space between us, I pull myself up to strip away my shirt and pants.

  Staring down, Olivia's breasts rise and fall heavily. I climb over her once more, my mouth watering.

  "Damon, stop." She uses her elbows to crawl back from me.

  Grabbing onto her hip, I pull her underneath my naked body.

  "Please, Olivia," I beg, kissing her neck. "You want this, too. I can feel it."

  I run my hand from her hip, under her shirt, and feel her nipple pebble under my touch.

  "This—" she presses at my chest.

  "Is meant to be," I finish.

  She presses against
my chest harder.

  "Stop!" she demands.

  I comply, dropping my head onto her chest. Taking deep breaths, I try to calm the fire raging beneath my skin. Shifting my hips to move away, I briefly press against her.

  She moans, thrusting forward.

  "Olivia?" I look up, meeting her blazing eyes. "I don't know what you—"

  Her hips press against me once more, her wide eyes full of confusion, lust, and desire. I flex my hand, brushing the pad of my thumb over her nipple. She tosses her head back with a whimper.

  My hips press between her thighs, rubbing my bare flesh against the cotton barrier between us. Pushing the thin tank top up, I wrap my lips around her nipple — sucking, nipping, devouring her skin.

  "Oh God," she cries.

  Bringing my knees higher, I push her legs apart and steadily massage, cock to pussy.

  "Fuck!" she wails, meeting my thrust.

  Spurred by her response, I reach between us and push the cotton panties aside. Pushing the head of my cock inside, I press my forehead between her breasts. Slipping my hands behind her, I brace myself on my forearms and grip her shoulders.

  Olivia pants and writhes beneath me, trying to push me further inside.

  In a motion smoothed by her arousal, I'm buried to the hilt.

  "Ah!" she exclaims, moving to meet me.

  I pause for a moment, savoring the feel of her wrapped around me, pulling me deeper inside, before starting a slow rhythm.

  Olivia, wanting more, drives her hips against mine — hard.

  "Christ, Olivia," I growl, clenching my jaw, fighting the urge to pound into her.

  She thrusts up again, breaking my restraint.

  I grasp her left ankle and place it on my shoulder. Gripping behind her knee, I rock in and out of her, hard enough to press her thigh to her chest.

  "Yes, shit, right there!" The fingernails of her right hand dig into my left bicep.

  Pulling my right knee higher on the bed, I move faster. Raising my upper body just a little, I watch as the force of my thrusts causes her breasts to bounce. The sight almost undoes me.

  "Oh, yes." Her left hand grasps the comforter.

  "Right there, baby?" I angle, moving the weight of my body to my hands to get even deeper. "Is this what you want?" Rising up to both knees, I press both of her legs up and out, plunging inside the depths of her.

 

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