Wrong Kiss: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

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Wrong Kiss: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance Page 8

by Lexi Aurora


  “Oh yeah? Why might that be?”

  “Because. From where I’m sitting, you’re looking pretty great.”

  Olivia's eyes shot up and met Nick's. The moment she did, she felt ten times drunker than the buzz she already had going from the wine. The heat hit her so full on that she couldn't breathe, and all of a sudden she wanted to be anywhere but sitting beside this man. There was too much power here, and if she stayed beside it too long, she was likely to get sucked in and not be able to make it back out again. It was like getting too close to the sun. She downed the rest of her second, or maybe third, glass of wine quickly. She struggled to keep from coughing and then stood up abruptly.

  “Whoa there! Where are you going?” Nick stood, too, quickly enough that he almost knocked his glass over. Olivia took a step back, clutching her purse.

  “I just realized how late it’s getting. I’ve got a very busy day tomorrow.”

  “Olivia–”

  "Seriously, super busy. I usually work weekends but the wedding is this weekend, so I have to make up all of that time in the next two days. I need to get home and get some sleep. That's all. I'm not leaving for anything else." She could have slapped herself for saying that part. It was a silly thing to say. Everything she was doing now seemed silly.

  “Fine,” he said uncertainty, “that’s fine. I’ll just walk you out.”

  “There’s really no need. It won't take long to get a cab. I can wait on my own. I’m a big girl.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I’m still going to walk you out.”

  Before Olivia could object, Nick linked arms with her and started to lead her out the door. Her heart thumped in her chest so that she could feel her pulse beating in her temples. He led her outside and asked the valet service to hail a cab, slipping them a hefty tip to sweeten the deal. Olivia shut her eyes and lifted her face up to the sky, allowing the cool, damp breeze to wash over her. It took away some of the heat from the blood rushing to the surface of her skin, and that was good. When she opened her eyes again and saw Nick’s face close above her own, however, the momentary relief vanished.

  "What are you doing?" she whispered. She told herself she needed to move, to keep this from happening, but she couldn't make herself do it. She was rooted to the spot where she stood.

  “I–I don’t know. I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  His face dipped down, and then he was kissing her. It was firm but slow, tormentingly so. The tips of her fingers were practically vibrating. That's how strong her desire to touch him was. As if he was reading her mind, his hands moved up, hesitated, then moved gently up the length of her back. When they landed on her bare skin, they were trembling. He moaned a little and slipped his tongue inside of her mouth. She did touch him then, her hands on his chest, clutching his shirt. She touched him and felt like she was falling. She knew that she couldn't turn back now. Whatever her past thoughts about Nick, whatever this meant moving forward, she couldn't stop it anymore. She didn't want to stop it. Then, just like that, it was over. She could feel the breeze on her face again, only this time it didn't feel nearly so friendly.

  “Nick?”

  “I don’t think this is the best time for something like this.”

  “Not the best time? What does that mean?”

  "We've been drinking. You've been drinking. I don't want to be that guy. I've been that guy plenty of times. I don't want to be him again. I'll let you go get that sleep you were talking about. And I'll see you this weekend. Everything is going to be great."

  He didn’t give her a chance for a rebuttal or even a response. He shoved his hands down low in his pockets, turned, and walked off past the valet and out of her sight. She shivered, hugging herself tightly. She told herself that he was right about it being the alcohol that had brought them together this way and nothing more. She told herself that over and over again and yet somehow, she couldn’t quite make herself believe it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick Oswald

  “NICK? HEY, BROTHER! Are you hearing me right now?”

  “Huh? Shit, yeah, I hear you. Sorry, Abel.”

  "Do you? Because you're looking a little out there in la-la land. You aren't going to pass out on me or something, are you? Because I don't think Caroline would like that. You making yourself the center of attention and all that."

  “No, man, I’m not going to pass out. I’m excited about you being a married man and everything but not excited enough to completely lose my shit.”

  He looked at Abel calmly, seriously almost, before the two of them busted out laughing. It was what Nick was thinking of as the calm before the storm of the wedding evening's festivities. He had just stood up at the front of the second story of an industrial venue Caroline was absolutely in love with and watched his best friend devote his life to the woman he loved. There had been a lump in his throat the whole time, and he'd had to fight to keep from making eye contact with Caroline. If he'd looked too closely at either of the lovebirds, he would have broken, and he knew it. What he couldn't stop himself from doing, no matter how many times he told himself to cut it the fuck out, was looking at Olivia. She had looked so beautiful standing behind Caroline. Her eyes had been shining with tears, and the blooms of both her bouquet and Caroline's had perfectly framed her face. Her dress was a rich plum color with a deep V down the front so that Nick's eyes kept inadvertently dropping to her considerable cleavage. He knew it was ridiculous, but he could feel himself getting an erection right then and there. He'd had to check out almost entirely in order to get himself back under control. Now, the ceremony itself was over, and everyone was on the first floor of the place having their fill of drinks of passed appetizers. Olivia was in the bridal suite with Caroline, doing whatever it was that women did to make a chick's wedding dress go from unmanageably long to just manageable to get by for the night. Abel stood with Nick and waited. He was waiting for the party to get underway but he was waiting for Olivia, too. He hadn't brought a date to the wedding, and he was borderline ecstatic that she hadn't, either. She was all he could think about. Even in all of this, she was all he could think about whether it was the right thing or not.

  "There she is!" Abel crowed, breaking through Nick's hurried, confused thoughts. He looked up and saw Caroline standing in the doorway, radiant and grinning from ear to ear. Abel strode towards her and took her into his arms, dipping her low and kissing her passionately. When the two of them came back up Caroline was practically panting, and her face was flushed.

  “Please, not in front of Nick!”

  “Are you kidding me, sweetheart? He’s seen worse. Hell, he’s done worse than I could ever think up.”

  "Thanks, man. Thanks for that."

  “Shit, she doesn’t care,” Abel laughed, “it’s nothing to her. Besides, this is a night for celebrating! What do you say we all go downstairs and make use of some of those fancy drinks you paid for?”

  "Ugh, we could," Caroline groaned, "but Olivia is busy cleaning things up in there. I tried to get her to leave it for later, but you know how she is. I can't go party when she's still working. It wouldn't feel right."

  “I’ll help her.”

  Abel and Caroline looked at him, totally stunned. Nick shrugged his shoulders and tried to ignore how hot his face felt.

  “What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

  “Well, no offense, brother, but you aren’t usually the helping type. Not unless it involves a strip club or something.”

  “Very funny. I’m serious. I’ll help her out. You two go on downstairs. We’ll be down soon. I’ll make sure of it.”

  The newlyweds looked at each other and had one of those silent conversations that only people who knew each other really well could have. Then Abel took Caroline by the hand, kissed her on the palm, and led her down the stairs. Nick started slowly towards the half-open room being used as a bridal suite, his heart thudding out of his control. Halfway to the door, he could hear her bustling around in there and by the time
he reached the door frame he imagined he could smell her perfume. He stood and watched her, bending over to retrieve odds and ends from the floor. When she dipped down, he got a really good look down her dress and lost the battle with his persistent erection. He could practically feel those full breasts in his hand. He thought about running his tongue over her perfectly pink nipples and took a step inside of the room.

  “Oh my gosh! You startled me!”

  Olivia stood up quickly, taking an unconscious step back. She was already close to a dresser against one of the whitewashed brick walls, and she bumped straight into it. She looked behind her and then back at him, blushing furiously. She had nowhere to go, and he began to walk towards her purposefully.

  “Nick?”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to see if you needed any help in here. Caroline seems worried that you’re going to spend the whole wedding trapped in this room like a fancy Cinderella.”

  “She worries too much. I’m almost done.”

  “Right. Good. That’s good.”

  “Nick?”

  “Hm?”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He was right in front of her now, so close he could have taken her into his arms in a second flat. She looked up at him with wide eyes, beautiful eyes, and he felt himself stirring in his pants. It wasn't the time for this. It wasn't the time for him to be thinking about anything but Abel and Caroline but he couldn't help himself. He had spent so much time trying to keep himself in check with Olivia, and he was out of willpower.

  “Like what?”

  “Like...I don’t know, exactly. It’s the way you were looking at me outside of the bar. Like you wanted to–”

  “Because I do.”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, sliding his tongue inside of her mouth with an unimaginable relief. Like finally scratching an itch he hadn't been able to get to for far too long, the sense of satisfaction washed over him. But with it came a strong urge for more. He couldn't just kiss her this time and walk away. He needed more of her. He wanted all of her, and he knew that she wanted him, too. He had never waited so long for a woman that he wanted, and he was shocked to find out that it was better this way. He wanted her more for having waited, maybe even for all of the initial tension of dislike, too. He knew her, and he wanted to know her better. There would be no wanting to walk away from her like there had been with every other woman he'd ever seduced. This was something different.

  “Nick!” Olivia gasped against his mouth, her nails raking up and down his back desperately, “We can’t. We have to go downstairs.”

  “I know. But I want you. Jesus, Olivia, I want you so badly.”

  He grabbed her fancy dress and pulled it up, hard. She gasped again as he slipped his hand beneath the chiffon and groaned. She wasn't wearing anything underneath the dress. Her legs were quivering, shaking, and her inner thighs were already slick. Because of him. He pushed his hips against her, and she reached behind her, gripping the dresser so tightly that he could see her knuckles turning white. It would have been so easy to slip inside of her right there. Three quick motions and a thrust and he'd be exactly where he wanted to be. Instead, he inserted his fingers inside of her wetness, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her steady. Her head rocked back on her neck helplessly, her eyes shut tightly and the cords on her neck standing out. His fingers began to move against her clit, circling and then stroking and then repeating the whole process over again. His hips rocked as he touched her, his hard dick throbbing, and her back arched, thrusting her breasts closer to his face.

  “Nick,” she whispered in a strangled cry, “Nick, please! Please, for God’s sake!”

  Her hips bucked wildly so that the dresser hit the wall over and over again. He wondered briefly if it would break under their combined force, but who the hell cares about that? If it did, he'd buy them another one. He'd buy twenty of them and not think twice. His fingers slid inside of her again, and he felt her muscles clamp down on him, and hard. She cried out, then hunched forward, holding onto him tightly and biting his shoulder to keep from making too much noise. He held her close as she rode her orgasm out. He felt her shaking dwindle and then stop altogether, but it was a couple of minutes at least before she lifted her face again. He took a step away from her, and she lifted her chin definitely. Her face was flushed, and her eyes shone.

  "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" Nick asked, his voice husky. He still wanted her, God help him. He hadn't had even close to enough.

  “No, actually. I thought it was just the booze.”

  “That’s what I told myself. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if it was.”

  “And was that enough? What we just did? Are you satisfied now?”

  “Are you kidding me? Not even fucking close.”

  “Then why did you stop? We could keep going. Right here. Nobody’s coming up here to check on us. Not with everything going on downstairs. We could finally get it over with.”

  "This isn't the place," Nick answered with a frown, watching her face intently. He didn't like the way she had said that. Get it over with? That wasn't exactly what he had in mind. "I want you, but not here. I don't want a quick fuck against a dresser."

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want it. Later, then.”

  “Later? Are you sure? You’re down with this?”

  “I guess I am,” she smiled crookedly, still blushing even as she straightened her dress and started out the door, “I’ve never done anything like this.”

  “Like this?”

  “Friends with benefits. It’ll be something new, right? I’ll see you downstairs.”

  She was gone before he could protest. His hands were shaking, and for some reason, his face felt strangely numb. How many times had he lobbied for that exact same relationship with a chick? He'd suggested it and been prepared to offer far less. Normally he would have been thrilled to have a woman be the one to float the idea instead of him. This time, however, it was a different fucking story.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Olivia Young

  OLIVIA CURSED AND MUTTERED as she forced the zipper of her evening gown all of the way down. It was a beautiful dress, but it was quite the struggle to get the damned thing off. Formal wear such as the dress she'd been gifted to stand beside her best friend was lovely to wear, but they were really the kind of thing meant to be taken off by somebody else. It was a thought that took her straight back to Nick and the things he'd done to her at the wedding. If he was with her now, she would have no problem getting the dress off. It would have been off of her body and crumpled up on the floor the moment the two of them had walked through the door of her apartment.

  "Stop it," she chastised herself, finally wriggling out of the dress and into a slinky, black slip. She didn't want to think about that. She had agreed to trying out friends with benefits with Nick Oswald, and she still couldn't believe it. Out of all of the things she'd done in her life, it was certainly one of the stupider, more reckless choices she had made. She needed to take it back, and she knew it, except that she also knew she wasn't going to. Throughout the entirety of the wedding reception, every time she had met his gaze she had gotten a jolt of that same delicious heat she'd felt when Nick's fingers had moved inside of her. Whether it was the right move or not, she wanted to feel more of that. It wasn't like she was going to get hurt, not when she knew what the boundaries were. Every girl needed a friends-with-benefits experience once in her life. This was just going to be hers.

  “What?!”

  She was startled out of her thoughts by a pounding on her front door. She glanced at her clock and saw that it was almost four o'clock in the morning. The only person she knew that would bang on her door at that time of night was Caroline, and she seriously doubted that was who this was. If it were, something had gone seriously awry with the wedding night, and she didn't see that happening.

  "Hold on!" she shouted as she hurried tow
ards the door, "I'm coming. Stop it, or you'll wake the whole building up!"

  She threw the door open, and before she had time to fully comprehend what was going on, Nick was storming into her apartment. He strode into the middle of the room and looked around as if he was looking for something he couldn't find.

  “Um, hello? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Why did you say that?” he asked the question without any recognition that he had heard her at all.

  “Why did I say what? What are you talking about?”

  “That friends with benefits shit, Olivia. Why did you say that?”

  "I'm confused. I thought that was what you wanted. If you decided you aren't interested anymore, that's your prerogative, of course. You're certainly free to–"

  “Cut it out, will you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

  “All of the lawyer crap. We’re not in the middle of a deposition, alright? You don’t need to talk to me like that.”

  “I don’t understand what you want,” Olivia answered, half exasperated and half afraid of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, “what do you want from me?”

  “Don’t you get it? I don’t want anything from you. I just want you! Can’t you tell?”

  He was across the room and practically on top of her in a matter of moments. His hands were in her hair, on her breasts, tugging at her slip. All of it seemed almost angry to Olivia, and she thought about telling him to stop, but she wasn't strong enough for that. His lips found hers, fierce and strong against her mouth, and when he started to chew on her lower lip, she moaned. His hands found her ass and squeezed her closer to him. She could feel his stiff cock straining against his tight slacks, and her hips moved against it as if of their own volition. Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt and undid one after the other as quickly as they could. Her mind was almost always whirring at a breakneck speed whether she wanted it to or not but now it was blessedly quiet. There was nothing but wanting him and the feel of his heart jackhammering underneath her fingertips. His skin was tanned, his muscles perfectly crafted, and she felt herself getting wet already. How did he do this to her? How was it that this man she had been so sure she hated only months ago was able to turn her on in a way nobody else ever could?

 

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