She closes her eyes. “You didn’t see Michael’s face. Ethan has Stephanie, and I think he’s forgiven me, but Michael—”
“Will get over it,” I say with finality. “He’s what, twenty-two? And if he was lucky enough to be your best friend all those years, he’s got to be a decent guy under it, right? He just fell for the wrong girl.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I press my hands just a little more firmly against her cheeks.
“He will be fine. You’ll be fine.”
When she opens her eyes, they’re shiny with tears again, but I don’t think they’re tears of despair. She looks hopeful.
“Thank you,” she says. Her hand slowly comes up to rest against my chest. “Thank you.”
I let out a harsh laugh, trying to ignore what her touch does to me. “You really shouldn’t be thanking me after what I did to you.”
“As far as bad-guy plans go, it was really devious. And I can’t believe he came.”
“He cares about you.” I rub my thumbs over her cheekbones. “And I may have given the impression that your situation was dire.”
“It was dire,” she says, her fingers fiddling with my shirt button. “You haven’t talked to me in weeks. I haven’t even seen you.”
“Worried that you’re not earning your salary?” I ask, careful to keep my voice teasing and not accusatory.
“That’s not why I wanted to see you.”
My heart stops. “Then why?”
Green eyes lift to mine. “I miss you. I don’t know why, because you’re a total beast. And I don’t understand why I can’t stop thinking about you, because you’re so infuriating, and you shut me out every time one little thing doesn’t go your way, and you’ll probably hurt me so much worse than anyone else has ever been able to hurt me, but—”
My mouth stops her rambling flow of words, a hard, desperate kiss, even as I wait for her to reject me, knowing I deserve rejection. But her arms wind around my neck and her tongue reaches sweetly for mine as she presses against me.
“I want you,” she whispers, pulling back just slightly.
My self-control snaps. I spin her around, pushing her against the door as my hands slide from her face down to her hands before I lift them above her head. She moans as I pin her to the door, and I kiss her again and again, until I forget whose breath is whose. Until I can’t stop myself from running my hands over her arms, her hips, and up along the sides of her torso, both of us groaning when my palms brush the sides of her breasts.
I want to lose myself in her.
Reaching for whatever tiny seed of good is still left inside me, I force myself to pull back and give her space and time to think about this. I look down at her flushed face and swollen mouth, both of us breathing hard.
“I need to know what you want from this,” I say gruffly. “I need to know where the line is.”
Olivia presses her lips together, and I brace myself for rejection. I almost see the wheels turning inside her head as she tries to figure out if I’m a mistake, like Michael, or if I’m worth the risk.
For the first time in so long, I want to be worth the risk.
Her fingers settle just above the waistband of my jeans, the pads of her fingers hot through the fabric of my shirt.
She leans forward and presses her lips to the hollow of my throat.
“I don’t want there to be any line,” she says, her breath warm against my skin. “Not tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Olivia
There’s nothing gentle about Paul’s touch, and I don’t want there to be. After months of fighting a fierce and uncontrollable need for this guy, I want to give in to him.
I want to give in to us.