The Hot Gamer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #3)

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The Hot Gamer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #3) Page 83

by Alexa Davis


  "Oh, but I think you do," she said as she leaned across the table and laid her hand on top of mine. "I think you care very much."

  "What do you want, Olivia?" I asked. "It's like you want to piss me off. Like you want me to get up and walk out and leave you here alone. Is that what you want? Because I can't figure out any other explanation for why you do this push-pull routine with me."

  She looked surprised for a moment, and then looked down and quietly said, "I don't know what I want from you. You confuse me."

  "Well, the feeling is entirely mutual, lady," I muttered as I reached into my pocket, pulled out a handful of cash and threw it on the table. I looked up and saw her smiling at me as she reached out and grabbed my hand.

  "C'mon, let's walk up Spring Street and see what's decorated!" she cried as she pulled me out of the cafe. "Dismiss the limo, we're taking the subway today, Redding."

  For the rest of the afternoon, Olivia led me on a tour of the city unlike any I'd ever been on before. We walked up Broome Street to Wooster where we stopped in several art galleries before heading toward Spring Street and checking out the holiday windows at Chanel and stopping for hot chocolate at Vosges. There was a light snow falling and it covered the city in a white blanket that seemed special ordered for the holiday. Olivia's eyes shined as she pulled me from one store to the next, pointing out the beautiful decorations and chattering about how the city always looked so welcoming in winter.

  As I watched her, I felt like I was experiencing real Christmas joy for the first time since my parents died. I recalled what Mo and Brant had both said about taking chances, and as Olivia excitedly pointed out the beautiful decorations at the MoMA Design Store, I reached out and took her hand. She looked up at me with surprise, but then laced her fingers with mine and squeezed them before pulling me onward. I wanted to ask her a hundred questions and find out everything there was to know about her, but I had started to realize that getting to know Olivia Moore was going to be like peeling back an onion, not taking out a knife and slicing it in two, so I took a deep breath and followed her lead.

  We talked about college experiences, books we loved, people we didn't like, and a host of things that made me find her even more interesting and intriguing than I had before. She loved Shakespeare and ’60s pulp fiction equally, and had never seen a reality television program. I told her that I was a big fan of nineteenth century fiction, but that I could tolerate some twentieth century writing, and she called me a snob. I laughed and when I shot back that she was a damn hippie, she wrapped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me down for a quick kiss. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome, and it left me feeling a little less confused.

  Around four o'clock, I said, "We'd better be getting back to my place so we have time to get ready and make our dinner reservations."

  "Wait, I didn't pack any clothes," she said. "I'm not sure how I'm going to get ready for anything."

  "Oh, I've taken care of that," I smiled as I hailed a cab and instructed the driver where to go.

  When we pulled up in front of my building in the Financial District, Olivia gasped, "You live here?"

  "I've got an apartment here, I'm not sure I would call it living here," I said as I helped her out of the cab and paid the driver. We entered the lobby and were quickly whisked up to the thirtieth floor where my apartment spread out over half the floor.

  "This is amazing," she said as she looked out of the floor to ceiling windows in the living room over the city. The sun had set and the lights of the city were starting to shine brightly.

  "That's the view that made me buy the place," I said as I moved next to her and put my arm around her waist.

  She turned and looked up at me before she stepped around to face me and, resting the palms of her hands on my chest, she looked into my eyes and said, "Thank you for a wonderful day, Linc. I've enjoyed it all."

  "Don't thank me yet," I said as I held her gaze. "It's not over."

  "Mmmm hmmm," she smiled as she slid her hands up around my neck and pulled me down so she could kiss me deeply. She pressed her body against mine as she kissed me harder and I could feel her intense need as she gripped a handful of my hair.

  "Olivia..." I murmured as she let go of my hair and ran her hands down my chest.

  "Shhh, just let go," she whispered as she slid her hands under my shirt. "Please?"

  For a moment, I wanted to rebel and take control, but something in her voice told me that she needed this, so I let her take the lead. My nod set her desires free as she grasped the hem of my shirt and tugged until she'd pulled it up over my head. She kissed my bare chest as her hands explored my skin, and I slid my fingers into her thick red hair and pulled her face up so I could kiss her again. She raked her nails down my back and I moaned into her lips. I could feel her smiling as she did it again, and then again.

  She made quick work of my belt and zipper, and before I knew it, she had yanked my pants down around my ankles and pushed me backwards on to the couch. Dropping to her knees, she pulled my jeans away and spread my legs so that she could fit between them.

  "Not fair," I said as I looked up at her. "You're still dressed."

  She moved up, resting her hands on my shoulders and smiled as she ran her tongue across my lips and then said, "Patience, Redding; have patience. Good things come to those who wait." She ran her hand down the length of my body and wrapped her fingers around my throbbing erection. Another groan escaped my lips as she stroked it for a few moments before she stood up and began slowly removing her clothes.

  I watched as she slid her hands down to the bottom of her sweater and peeled it off like a second skin, revealing a black lace bra that barely covered her nipples. She tossed the sweater aside and began unbuttoning her jeans. Then, she turned around and pushed them to the floor as she bent over, exposing the fact that she was wearing matching black panties that covered her perfect, round curves.

  "Oh God," I breathed as she turned back around to face me with a hungry look while she slid her panties down to her ankles and kicked them aside. "I'm in trouble now."

  "Indeed, you are," she grinned as she dropped to her knees between my legs and grasped my achingly hard shaft. I watched as she leaned forward and lightly ran her tongue across the tip as she looked up at me with a mischievous grin.

  "Jesus, lady," I moaned as she slid me between her lips and gently sucked as she flicked the tip with her tongue. I reached out to grab her hair, but she smacked my hand and shook her head, a motion that sent waves of pleasure crashing out into the rest of my body.

  "Uh, uh, uh," she said as she sat back and looked at me. "You do it my way or you don't do it at all."

  "You're going to kill me, woman," I said as she grinned and bent forward to take me in her mouth again. She turned the teasing into an achingly delicious kind of foreplay I'd never felt before, and soon I was groaning as she bent her head and took me all the way into the back of her throat. The sensation was almost more than I could bear as she slid me in and out of her mouth, and as she pulled up and began teasing the tip of my throbbing member, I reached out and stroked her face.

  "Mmmm?" she said with her mouth full.

  "Olivia, please," I said. I knew better than to beg and I didn't want to. I wanted her to understand what I was saying without having to say it. She smiled as she sat up and looked at me. I gently stroked her cheek and willed her to understand. She stood up and then kneeled on the couch, straddling my legs as she reached down between her legs and grasped my shaft. She slid it between her slippery wet lips and positioned it so that I was pressed just at the edge of her opening. I wanted to thrust up inside of her hard and fast, but as I watched her moving her hips, I was entranced by the movement and wanted to see what she would do next.

  She was smiling at me as she lowered her mouth to mine and just before she kissed me she whispered, "You want this, don't you?" as she dropped down and pushed me deep inside before I knew what had happened.

  The rush of sensation made
my head spin as she grabbed my shoulders and braced herself as she rode me. She gyrated her hips a bit before she pushed back up, leaving only the tip of me inside her and then slammed back down, taking my breath away. My hands found her hips and I held on to them as she continued her rhythmic movements, driving us both closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes were locked to mine as she bucked and thrust against me, and neither of us could hold back the moans of pleasure. I slid one hand between our bodies and found her hard little bud and began stroking it with my finger. She cried out as I flicked it lightly and then pressed it.

  "Yes, yes! Oh yes, baby!" she cried as my hips rose to meet hers and she ground down into me. I could feel her beginning to spasm and the sensation made me thrust up into her harder and faster as we climbed to greater heights. Suddenly, she screamed and I felt her pulsing as I firmly pressed my finger against her clit and thrust into her faster and faster. It was only seconds before I felt the familiar flood of release flowing through my body, and I moaned loudly as I pushed deep inside of her and felt my thick, warm liquid filling her.

  Olivia fell against me with her arms wrapped around my neck and her cheek resting against my forehead as her hips continued moving, milking the last of the sensation out of me. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and felt her warm body pressed against me. I breathed in her sent as I tried to memorize every detail.

  "Redding," she whispered. "You're amazing."

  "I don't think that was me," I replied.

  "Yeah, I think it was," she laughed softly, then more seriously. "I don't want to get up."

  "So, don't," I said as I stroked her hair and turned to kiss her cheek.

  "But what about our dinner reservations?" she said in a tired voice.

  "Screw them, we'll order in," I said and smiled when she laughed in response.

  Once the heat of the moment had worn off, it got cold, so I pulled Olivia into my arms and grabbed a throw from the back of the couch to cover us. She was fast asleep moments after she had laid her head on my chest, and as I watched her sleeping, I wondered if today would be the thing that would keep Olivia Moore in my life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Olivia

  The next morning, after a whirlwind date that left me slightly confused but more attracted to Lincoln Redding than before, Linc and I flew back to D.C. He dropped me off at my apartment and as he kissed me goodbye, he said, "Have dinner with me tonight?"

  "I would love to, Mr. Redding," I smiled as I returned the kiss, knowing I wanted more.

  "I'll call and let you know where," he said as I got out of the car and waved goodbye.

  Back in my apartment, I quickly showered and changed, knowing that I needed to get to the newsroom and find out what was going on with the Russo story. I was concerned that my day off had left me too far out of the loop and that Frank might have assigned another reporter to follow up on it.

  An hour later when I walked into the deserted newsroom, I thought my worst fears had come true until I saw the stack of papers sitting on my desk and a note from Carl that read, "New info on Russo and Bangor. Read this and let me know what you think. Fact finding road trip?"

  I sat down and began reading, and as I did, I realized that the relationship between Russo and Bangor went a lot deeper than either of them had previously admitted. The files that Carl had uncovered went all the way back to the 1970s and told a tale of two friends who had taken two very different paths later in life. I could now see why Bangor was so angry with Russo for betraying his trust, but I couldn't put together why either one of them would want the senators dead or if they had even had anything to do with it.

  I'd kicked around the idea that the shootings might actually be unrelated to the bill. Maybe the committee had just had the bad luck of being on the Hill when the shooter had decided to act on his paranoid delusions. It was possible, and because the police still had no idea who the man was or where he'd come from, none of those questions could be answered and we were still in the dark.

  I sat back in my chair, turning over the pieces of the puzzle as I tried to connect Russo and Bangor to the shooting. The evidence was slim, but I wondered what would happen if I went down to Virginia and asked some questions about their connection in Richmond. I had a feeling that this would open up some avenues that we hadn't yet considered.

  As I was thinking, my phone rang, and when I picked it up, I smiled.

  "Olivia Moore, what are you doing for dinner tonight?" Linc asked.

  "Hmmm, I don't know; you?" I replied in a sassy tone.

  "That can be arranged, lady," he laughed. "How's your day going?"

  "Well, considering that I've had very little sleep and a lot of caffeine, and I'm still doing my job, I'd say I'm doing quite well. How are you doing?"

  "Well, considering that I had the same amount of sleep and caffeine, but that I'm sitting in a hot tub in the middle of my living room being fed peeled grapes by a bevy of harem girls, I'd say I'm doing fantastic," he deadpanned.

  "Ah, I see, a hot tub, harem girls, and grapes – perhaps that's what we need to liven up this newsroom," I replied as a smile spread across my face. "I'll have to talk to Frank about that as part of my next benefits package."

  "You really should," he said before he started laughing. "Are you still on dinner tonight?"

  "Why, what's the plan?"

  "We could go out or I could arrange for delivery," he offered. "I don't care which one so long as I get to see you."

  "My, my, my, Redding, you sound like you've got a thing for me," I chuckled.

  "I believe maybe I do," he said and I could hear his smile through the phone. "You okay with that?"

  "Yeah, it's fine," I said. "Just as long as you keep feeding me. I get grumpy when I'm hungry."

  "Olivia, you are a piece of work," he laughed. "I'll be happy to feed you, if it means I get to keep seeing you."

  "It can be arranged," I said as I felt a warmth spread through my body. "What time?"

  "How about I bring food over to your place around seven?".

  "Sounds like a perfect evening; I'll cue up Netflix and we'll chill," I said suggestively.

  "Piece of work, lady," he laughed. "I'll look forward to seeing you at seven."

  "Me, too," I smiled as I disconnected. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about this moving so fast, but I also knew that Bix was right: I needed to stop living in the past and focus on the present. Lincoln Redding wasn't the man who betrayed me – that man was dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Linc

  I arrived at Olivia’s just ahead of the delivery services I'd arranged. One brought an elaborate Italian dinner complete with wine and tiramisu for dessert, and the other was there to install a brand new television set with surround sound. I smiled as I watched the delivery people unload the cargo and then led them to Olivia's door. The response we received was not at all what I had expected.

  "What are you doing, Redding?" she asked as I stood in the doorway waiting for her to invite me in.

  "I'm bringing you dinner and a movie," I said gesturing to the delivery people flanking me.

  "No, dinner and a movie is a bag of take out and a small plastic box containing a DVD," she said eyeing the crowd in the hallway.

  "I do things a little bigger than that. Can we come in?"

  "I don't think so," she said shaking her head as she moved to close the door.

  "Wait," I said sticking my foot between the door and the frame, afraid she'd close it before I got a chance to find out why she had changed her mind. "Why are you upset?"

  "Because you don't listen, Redding," she said as she leaned on the door. I winced as the pressure pinched my foot, but I didn't back up.

  "I don't listen? What do you mean?"

  "I mean, I told you in New York that I'm not impressed by your money," she said waving at the crew with the television. "I don't want that and I don't need it. So, you can take your bribery and install it at your own home."

  "Bribery?"
I was stunned by her accusation. "This isn't bribery! This is simply a way for us to enjoy the evening!"

  "You really don't get it do you?" she said, shaking her head.

  "What I get is that you're refusing to have dinner with me because I arranged for dinner and a movie," I said.

  "No, I'm refusing to have dinner with you because you've gone way over the top and are trying to bribe me with expensive gifts," she objected. "You can't buy me, Redding."

  "I'm not buying you! I'm just trying to do what you asked!" I said, raising my voice. She leaned heavily on the door, causing me to pull my foot back before it got crushed. "Olivia! Why are you being so unreasonable?"

  "I'm not being unreasonable, at all," she said, looking up at me with a sad smile. "I'm just not someone who can be bought. Goodnight, Mr. Redding."

  She gently closed the door and a moment later, I heard the click of a deadbolt followed by the sound of a security chain being slid into place. I sighed and gestured toward the elevator. I paid for the food and carried the bags back into the lobby of Olivia's building. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. Her phone went to voicemail the first two times, but the third time was the charm.

  "What do you want, Redding?" she said when she picked up.

  "Hello, it's nice of you to answer your phone."

  "Well, I figured that you were just going to keep annoying me until I did, so I thought I'd cut to the chase," she replied in an irritated voice.

  "I'm sorry I offended you," I said and then waited.

  "What?"

  "I'm sorry I offended you," I repeated.

  "I'm not offended," she replied calmly.

  "Then why did you shut the door and send me away?"

  "Because you don't listen," she said. "I told that I'm not impressed by your money, and yet you tried to use it to gain the upper hand tonight."

  "God, are you always this defensive and suspicious?" I blurt out. "What if I was just trying to be nice?"

  "Were you?"

  "Was I trying to be nice? Yes! I was simply trying to provide dinner and a movie."

 

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