Over the Edge (Bridge #3)

“There’s not going to be a problem,” I finally said, believing the words as I uttered them.

Whatever happened between Olivia and me, I wouldn’t hurt her. I wasn’t going to fuck her and leave her, discard her and her feelings. I wasn’t going to take her heart and break it. Anything we did we’d go into with full disclosure.

After another tense moment, he moved down the stairs and began his walk down the tree-lined street. I held the door, shifting my gaze from Cameron through the doorway that would take me deeper into this situation with Olivia.

The scent of the coffees in my hand spurred my next steps. I needed more coffee, and I needed this woman.

I stepped into the hallway that led to her first-floor apartment. I knocked on her door. She didn’t answer, so I knocked again, longer and louder. A few seconds later, she opened it and stood before me. I tensed my jaw to keep it from landing on the floor. Her hair was a tangle, and her eyes were soft and tired, like I’d woken her. She wore only a ribbed navy-blue tank top and matching blue panties.

“What are you doing here?”

I collected myself and shot her a grin. “I slept like shit. Figured you might have too. I brought coffee.” I extended the cup to her. “Cappuccino, your favorite.”

Her brow wrinkled as she accepted it. “How do you do that?”

I masked a smile, enjoying the thrill that always came with being right.

She moved to the side so I could enter and closed the door behind me. “You shouldn’t have come here. If Cameron saw you, he’d lose his mind.”

I laughed a little and watched her perfect ass sway ahead of me into her living room. “Too late for that.”

She turned abruptly, her eyes wide and alert. “What happened?”

“Nothing. We just passed each other on my way in.”

“Did he say something?”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. Nothing you need to worry about.”

She sighed heavily and took a seat on the edge of her couch, covering herself with a velvety gray throw. I sat at the other end, taking in the details of the place she called home.

The apartment wasn’t enormous, but it was well appointed. The cherry hardwood floors were new and covered with a couple of expensive rugs. The furniture was designer I guessed from the quality of the material covering it. Everything was cool, from the white linen curtains to the series of square-cropped ocean photographs that adorned the walls through the room. And Olivia was the centerpiece, warm and beautiful. Though I guessed she’d rolled right out of bed, I didn’t want her any less than I had hours before. Why the hell did I crave her the way I did?

She blew the steam off the top of the cup and sipped carefully. She met my imploring gaze after a moment. “Thanks for the cappuccino. You were right. I didn’t sleep very well. I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said.”

“And what are you thinking now?”

She circled her fingertip over the rim of the cup. “I’m thinking I’m crazy for even talking to you about any of this. Deciding to be with you was already outside of my comfort zone. This thing with Ian…”

The hesitation in her eyes warned me and heartened me. She was bound to me, enough to question her attraction to Ian and accept what he was going to do to her. That bond wasn’t a figment of her imagination either, a pathetic one-sided longing. It existed. A real thing—taut and tense, strengthening between us. I trusted Ian with her body, but no matter how many hours he spent inside her, I knew she was becoming mine.

“You have doubts. That’s normal,” I said.

“Will, I don’t even know where to start. I am attracted to Ian, but I’m not like you. I don’t rove the world sampling all of life’s earthly pleasures, throwing every rule and convention out the window as I go.”

I laughed at the picture she painted, but maybe she wasn’t completely wrong. I wanted what I wanted. I enjoyed sex, and all the money and privilege in the world couldn’t measure up to losing myself for a few minutes inside a beautiful woman. And right now, all the beautiful women in the world couldn’t measure up to the one beside me at this very moment.

“Come here.” I reached out to her, palm upturned.

She hesitated.

“Please,” I uttered quietly.

Some tension melted off her shoulders. Her mouth relaxed as she shifted to the middle cushion beside me. I took her coffee with one hand, setting it safely away. Then I caught her thigh and pulled her over so she straddled me. Her hands rested on my shoulders and crept softly around the nape of my neck.

I stifled a groan, immediately on edge. Through her panties, her pussy was warm against the bulge in my jeans. Her tits were right at eye level too. I ached to uncover them, mold my palms around their perfect softness, and suck each sweet rosy nipple into my mouth until she cried out.

Instead, I gazed into her eyes, skimming my palms up the sides of her torso until I reached her face. I cupped her cheeks and brought her lips to mine, kissing her tenderly.

“Don’t give up on me just yet,” I whispered against her lips.