As the hotel elevator doors open and Daphne and I step out, a concierge approaches us.
“Mr. Durand, is there anything else we can do to make your guests more comfortable?”
“I think they’re good for now, but please look in on them in the morning,” I say.
A man in a suit approaches us, smiling from ear to ear.
“Mr. Durand, I’m Matthew Curtis, the manager here. Is there anything I can do for you or your guests?” he asks. “Perhaps a room for you tonight, or a drink?”
I look at Daphne. “Anything you want?”
“No, thanks.”
Several people stopped close by are taking pictures with their camera phones. Daphne releases my hand, and my good mood slips away. She doesn’t make anything easy when it comes to us.
“We’re good,” I tell Matthew. “But please take good care of our guests. They’ll be here for several nights.”
“Yes, sir. Consider it done. May we have our driver take you home?”
Ben dropped me off at Safe Harbor earlier, but I insisted he take the rest of the weekend off and told him I can either take an Uber or drive myself places.
“Is Alfred sending the Batmobile?” Daphne asks me, her expression dead serious.
“The Batmobile is in the shop,” I say wryly.
Matthew doesn’t react, but I’m sure he thinks we’re a few fries short of a Happy Meal.
“A ride would be great,” I tell him. “We’re going to Miss Barrington’s place near Wicker Park.”
“Well, I am,” she says.
“We both are.”
“Olivier.”
I turn to look at her. “Daphne.”
“I don’t think—”
I stop her. “I need your help filling out that check to the Southern Poverty Law Center. You’ll have to remind me how much to send them.”
She reluctantly turns her lips up in a smile.
“Olidaph!” someone calls out from the group of bystanders with camera phones. “Can I get a picture with you guys?”
We pose for a few photos and then Matthew tells the bystanders a car is waiting for us and he helps us get through the growing crowd of people to get to it. Once we’re alone in the back seat, Daphne sighs heavily and leans her head back.
“It’s not that I don’t like you,” she says softly. “You know I do.”
“I know. It’s that you’ve convinced yourself we wouldn’t work together.”
She stares me down with an aggravated glare. “My reasons are legitimate, Olivier. You’re used to getting your way, because if the answer is no, you just put enough money on the table to turn it into a yes.”
“Not all the time. If you’re talking about business, I walk away from deals all the time. More often than not. I don’t pour money into anything just to say I won. Everything has to line up.”
“Do you think everything lines up with us?” I can tell from her tone that she’s unsure about the answer to her question.
“I think everything that really matters is there, yes.”
“I don’t want a billionaire lifestyle, though. Or even a millionaire one. There are things like that—big things—that keep me from melting into your arms like I sometimes want to.”
Her admission makes me feel hopeful. I take her hand in mine.
“What if it ends up being worth it? There are lots of excuses for both of us. I’m not a broke poet and you’re on the rebound. You’re stubborn as hell and think it’s fun to befriend drug addicts while they’re high. People take photos of us everywhere we go. All that’s true, and yet…it doesn’t change the way I feel when I’m with you.”
Her eyes don’t leave mine. I feel her weighing my words, and finding herself unable to argue with me. Daphne is afraid to leap, and I know it’s not because I’m wealthy and it’s not because of her broken engagement. It’s because she’s scared.
I feel it, too. Daphne has the potential to wreck me. This isn’t just physical attraction, even though I feel that too—she’s the only woman I’ve ever known who makes me crazy in the best possible way.
I’ve never felt like this or taken personal risks this way before. The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t want to go back to a life without Daphne.
“I want to come in with you when we get to your place,” I say, our gazes still locked. “And if a check to a charity would make it easier for you to say yes, name the terms and it’s done.”
I see her throat move with a hard swallow. “It’s not…I don’t come with a price, Olivier.”
“I know that. But it’s easier for you to take what you really want from me by telling yourself it’s not just for you.”
The driver clears his throat and I turn to find him looking at us in the rearview mirror.
“This the place?” he asks.
“Oh. Yes it is, sorry,” Daphne says, reaching for her bag.
The driver comes around to open her door and I pull out my wallet for a tip. He looks at the $50 bill, grins and thanks me profusely.
Once Daphne and I are alone on the stairs to her apartment, we lock eyes again, the air between us thick with desire.
“I can take an Uber home,” I say. “If you want me to.”
“I don’t.”
We reach for each other at the same time, her arms wrapping around my neck as I put my hands on her hips and slide them around, pulling her against me. I press my mouth to hers and she moans softly, kissing me with the same urgency that’s been building inside me.
This kiss isn’t like our first one; it’s frenzied, her hands in my hair and my hold on her so tight her feet leave the ground.
“Get a room!” someone calls out of a passing car.
Daphne laughs, and I look up at her, both of us grinning and breathless.
“Should we go inside?” she asks me.
“Right fucking now.”
Her hand is unsteady as she unlocks the door to her apartment. I slide my arms around her from behind, taking in the light, sweet scent of her hair.
“You’re not helping,” she says lightly.
I’m like a caged beast, wound tight with pent up desire for her. It’s been a long time since I had sex, so I know I should take it slow, but I’m not sure I’m capable of that with Daphne.
As she pushes the door open and steps inside, she grabs a handful of my shirt and pulls me in with her. Her keys and bag drop to the floor and I shove the door closed with my foot.
She tugs at my shirt, and we pull apart, each racing to undress. Her skin is flushed and she’s breathing hard, and she’s the sexiest sight I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Your generosity tonight made me so hot,” she murmurs. “The way Jada’s little boys looked at you, like you were the greatest man they’d ever seen.”
“Everything about you makes me hot. You’re fiery and strong and so fucking gorgeous, Daphne.”
She pauses, her hands behind her back working on unfastening her bra. “You want me to…?”
“Take it off,” I tell her. “I feel like I’ve waited a lifetime to see you like this.”
She takes off her silky white bra, and then shimmies out of her panties. I’ve never gotten naked so fast in my life, my eyes only leaving her as I pull my shirt off over my head.
Between seeing her perfect, round breasts and the light curls between her legs, I could come undone on the spot. But the sensation intensifies when I take her back in my arms, her bare skin warm and soft against me.
“Condom?” she says suddenly. “Tell me you have a condom.”
“Fuck, I don’t.”
She groans dramatically. “How do you not have a condom?”
“Relax,” I say, also wondering how I could not have one in this otherwise perfect moment. “I’ll have some delivered to your doorstep. Just let me get my phone.”
“Craig and Jess!” she cries.
“What?”
She runs back to the living room, her bouncing tits almost making me want to forget the cond
om altogether.
“My upstairs neighbors,” she calls out. “They aren’t ready for kids, and when I was having a glass of wine with Jess the other night, I teased her about the Costco-sized box of condoms they’d just bought.”
A few seconds later, I hear her whoop with happiness. “Jess is going to slide some in my mail slot. I owe her so fucking big.”
I grin as she stands by her front door, staring at the mail slot like her life depends on not looking away.
“You went from not wanting me to wanting me really fucking bad pretty quickly,” I quip.
“Oh, I always wanted you. I just knew it was a bad idea.”
“And now?”
The mail slot opens slightly with a squeak, and a roll of about a dozen condoms is slid through. Daphne picks them up and turns to me with a sexy smile.
“Now I know and just don’t care.”
Striding back to her with my erection jutting out in front of me, I say, “I appreciate Jess’s confidence in me, but that’s a hell of a lot of condoms for one night.”
Daphne quirks a brow at me. “Think you can handle this much younger woman, Durand?”
With a single note of laughter, I put an arm around her back and another behind her knees, sweeping her into my arms.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” I say as I carry her the short distance to the bed in her studio apartment.
She’s glowing with happiness and desire as I set her down on the bed before joining her, kissing every inch of her body before making my way back to her mouth.
“Now,” she says with a moan. “I want you now.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear her speak those words, and I look up, pausing as I’m sliding a condom on.
“You’re going slow on purpose,” she says. “Just to torture me.”
Her legs are spread wide, her whole body flushed the prettiest shade of pink. She looks absolutely perfect.
“I’m not,” I tell her, finally getting the condom rolled on. “I’m just being careful because I have a tendency to break these things putting them on.”
Her grin is sly. “Fair point. You’re much larger than average.”
“Let me know if it’s too much,” I tell her, kissing her softly.
“It won’t be.”
I push myself inside her and she moans with satisfaction, inhaling sharply when I’m all the way in. Her tightness makes me shudder because fuck does she feel good.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, just go slow.”
Her moans, and the way she bites her lower lip as I’m fucking her, make my balls tighten with the need to come. I kiss her, focused on memorizing every second of this. I hope it’s the first time of many, but Daphne is hardly sold on the idea of us being in a relationship.
“It’s good,” she murmurs. “It’s so good. Harder. Please, harder.”
Her fingertips sink into my shoulder as I hook an arm behind her knee and give her what she’s asking for.
“Shit,” she cries. “I’m…oh God, don’t stop.”
I pick up the pace, thrusting harder and faster. Before I know it, she’s crying out my name, coming hard from the sound of it. I’m right behind her, groaning as I let myself come.
We’re both breathless. As I pull out of her, she grabs my face in her hands and kisses me.
“That was fucking amazing,” she says softly.
“For an old guy?” I quip.
“No, just amazing. Better than any younger man I’ve ever had. Better than any other man, ever, really.”
I kiss her and she snuggles against my chest. It feels like a perfect moment, and I don’t want it to end.
I hear the faint sound of a woman yelling, “You’re welcome!” Daphne starts cracking up with a loud belly laugh.
“What was that about?” I ask her.
“Jess. The condoms. The walls here are really thin.”
I laugh with her then, wishing I could stay all night. I have to get home to Giselle before it gets too late, but before I do, I intend to use at least a couple more of those condoms.
Chapter Fourteen
Daphne
Olivier’s gaze follows me as I walk to the table he’s sitting at in the corner of a little Italian place near my apartment.
“Hey,” he says, smiling at me and standing up when I get to our table.
“Hi.”
He comes over to help me take off my coat, and then he goes in for a kiss, but I’m not expecting it. My mouth stays still as he pecks it softly.
“Sorry,” I say, as I cringe with embarrassment. “I wasn’t ready. No one has ever given me a kiss hello.”
He gives me a questioning look as one corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. “You want me to try again?”
Yes. No. I don’t fucking know. I’ve felt off-balance since we slept together Friday night. I can’t tell him that, though, so instead, I nod.
He cups my cheek in his hand and bends slightly, this kiss a little longer. He tastes like sweet tea and smells of a light, fresh aftershave. After the kiss, he leans his forehead against mine for a second.
Shit. A cheek cupper and a forehead leaner? I’m so screwed. Olivier somehow knows how to do every last little thing that makes me melt—both dirty and sweet.
“How has your weekend been since Friday night?” he asks me, pulling out my chair for me and hanging my coat on the back of it. He goes around the table to take his own seat.
There’s been a weekend since Friday night? I haven’t been able to do or think about much of anything since Olivier blew my mind in bed. All I think about is his hands on me, his whispered words of affection in my ear as he fucked me and the way he couldn’t stop smiling when we were saying goodbye before he left.
He’s a shrewd, successful billionaire. I spent a lot of time reading about him online yesterday, and he has a reputation for being tough, but fair. He has friends who have won Nobel prizes and Oscars. He has an actual TED talk, about how leaders can motivate the people who work for them.
And this man, who could be anywhere in the world, with anyone he wanted, looked at me the other night like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He texted me yesterday morning and said he couldn’t stop thinking about me. It’s a lot to process. Especially after Aiden told me he cheated on me because I’d let myself go.
“It’s been good,” I say, which isn’t a lie.
I just won’t mention that it’s been good because Friday night we had the best sex of my life and I’m dying to do it again as soon as possible.
“How about your weekend?” I ask.
He shrugs. “The usual. I tried to get Giselle to hang out with me yesterday but I’m just her lame old dad, so I couldn’t convince her to go to the game with me.”
“The Blaze game?”
“Yeah, we won 5–1.”
“Congratulations.”
“I can’t really take credit, but thanks.”
I smile at him. “Hey, you sign the paychecks. I think you get to take some credit.”
“Do you like hockey?”
I think about how to answer since he clearly loves it enough to own a team. “I don’t dislike it, but sports have never been my thing, both watching or playing. I have the athletic talent of a rock.”
Our server comes and we quickly decide on a pizza to share.
“So, are you feeling okay?” Olivier asks me, his expression uncertain.
“Of course, why? Do I look bad?”
I smooth out my hair and wipe my fingers under my eyes, hoping I don’t have any smeared makeup on my face.
“You look beautiful, as always,” he says. “I was talking about actual feelings…are you okay on that front?”
I narrow my eyes, confused. “As far as I know?”
He gives me the boyish grin that makes my stomach flip every time. “I was just expecting you to come in here with a prepared statement about how Friday night was a mistake and you just want us to be friends.”
I nod, looking
thoughtful. “You know, that’s a good point. Maybe we should just be friends.”
“Too late for that.” He winks and reaches for my hand across the table.
His hand is big and warm. Looking at it makes me think about the way his hands felt on me the other night, which makes me warm all over.
“You’re blushing,” Olivier says.
“Oh…it’s hot in here.”
“Is it?” He shakes his head doubtfully. “Or are you just thinking about the other night?”
I sigh heavily and clear my throat. “Anyway…the other night was spontaneous, but I liked it.”
“I liked it, too.”
“I mean, I liked that I just…did it. For once. I spend a lot of time thinking about things sometimes. Too much time.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I guess…as much as I know I shouldn’t, I let things people have said and done in the past stay with me.”
He nods. “What has someone said that gives you pause about me?”
I turn to look out the window, trying to form my thoughts into words.
“My parents would tell you they don’t think they’re superior human beings because they have money, but they do. My grandma does, too. They think they’re harder working and more deserving than people who struggle. Which is bullshit because my parents haven’t worked hard a day in their entire lives. They were both born into privileged families. I wouldn’t want them to know this, but they embarrass me sometimes. They’re so self-absorbed. Ungrateful. My life now has given me so much more appreciation for everything, really. Being able to pay all my bills. Being grateful for the things I have. Flowers in bloom. Sunshine. Laughter. Small things.”
“And you think I’m more like your parents,” Olivier says.
“I don’t. Especially after what you did the other night. My parents and my grandma would have assumed that Jada had wasted her money on drugs and said she needed to get a job. They don’t understand how hard it is to truly have nothing.”
“I’ve had nothing,” he says softly. “I’ve been hungry. Even though I’m successful, I’ll never forget where I came from.”
Olivier: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 9