15. Not a Fan, Karma
CARTER
“Oh shit. Fuck. Shit, shit, shit.”
Cracking one spent lid, I search through the foggy morning haze, trying to pin Olivia’s panicked voice.
I’m not sure why she’s so frantic, and I’m only mildly annoyed that she’s woken me from the best sleep of my life.
Annoyed because I was having the very best dream.
Olivia under me, over me, her lips, her hands, her perfect tits.
Only mildly because now I get to live out the dream in real life.
Rolling onto my back, I blindly sweep an arm over the empty spot beside me. It’s still warm and I can smell her all over my sheets, like a fresh batch of cookies. I wanna eat her right up.
“Come back to bed, Ollie.” My voice is thick with sleep. I suck in a shit ton of air on a never-ending yawn and rub my eyes. When I hear a loud crash followed by a string of curses, I manage to pull myself to sitting.
Olivia’s stark naked—just the way I like her—lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
I lean over the bed, smiling. “What you doin’ down there, baby?” Fuck, I’m tired.
Her lips part with what looks like horror before her hands fly to her chest in an attempt to cover herself. I didn’t expect the shyness this morning, sans alcohol, but I guess it makes sense.
Keeling over the side of the bed, I rest a palm on the cold hardwood and reach one arm out to her, hoping to pull her right the hell back up here so I can fuck her back to sleep. We’ve got all day and I don’t have training; we can squeeze in a few more hours.
I swear I had a goddamn epiphany last night while my sword of thunder was buried nine inches deep inside the most insanely stunning woman I’ve ever sparred with.
I never wanted to leave, and this morning, I still don’t.
I hope she’s okay with that, because I’m pretty sure she just got herself a shadow.
The shadow is me. I’m gonna be glued to her leg like a horny, unneutered dog for a long-ass time. Maybe forever. I don’t fuckin know. I only know I’m not letting go.
But she scoots backward, snapping her jaw together with a scowl. “I’m not your baby.”
Okay, so Olivia’s not a morning person. Maybe she needs caffeine.
“Do you need a coffee?”
Whoops. Wrong question.
I resist the urge to hide under the covers, instead offering her a gritty version of my delightfully charming smile that I think she loves/hates. It doesn’t seem to be having the desired effect.
Olivia rockets to her feet, snatching the blanket off my body as I pull myself back up to the mattress. She wraps it around herself like she’s going to a toga party. She could 100 percent pass for a Greek goddess.
She makes a throaty sound, wide gaze glued to…
My dick. He’s happy to see her this morning, giving her the ol’ one-eyed salute as he bobs around.
“Good morning,” I say with a chuckle. I swivel my hips, making him dance. “All of me is happy to see all of you.”
Christ, she’s hard to crack this morning. Not even a smile gracing those plump pink lips, just a hand slapped across her eyes.
I cock a brow. “You know he got well acquainted with your palace last night, right?”
Olivia sure is making a lot of sounds today. This one is all whimper-moan, right before she turns on her heel and makes a mad dash for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
But I’m not shy and I don’t really like boundaries, so I slip out of bed and stroll right through that door.
I run a hand down my torso, giving it a little scratch before I fist the base of my cock, looking at the beautiful girl wrapped in a sheet, her dress in one hand, phone in the other, and her enormous brown eyes set on me, only growing bigger with every step I take.
“What the fuck are you doing? We should be in bed, cuddling.” Or fucking. “And this…” I trail a finger along her collarbone until I reach her fist where she’s clutching the sheet tight to her body. “I don’t care where this goes, as long as it fucking goes .”
I tear the sheet away, letting it pool at our feet, and Jesus Christ, could her eyes get any bigger?
With two handfuls of her ass, I hoist her up to me, wrapping her legs around my hips before I press her against the glass shower. I bite back a groan, letting it rumble in my chest, because she’s soaking, her warmth pressed up against me.
“You’re gonna need to cancel any plans you have.” My mouth opens on her neck, coasting up it with slow, wet kisses, and I nip at her chin. She’s got the tiniest dimple there, right in the center, and I love it. “I’m keeping you all damn day.”
Olivia’s mouth opens like she’s going to say something, maybe argue with me the way she likes to.
I’m not interested in words right now though, so I swallow them up before she has a chance to speak them.
She clings to my body, throwing her arms around my neck as her fingers crawl into my hair, gripping it.
Her hips roll, back arching, trying to get closer.
“Fu-u-uck.” Her garbled cry breaks against the hot lash of my tongue.
“Perfect,” I manage against the onslaught of kisses. “Christ, Liv, you’re fucking perfect.”
Her breath snags in her throat, and suddenly her palms shove against my chest, pushing me away.
I’m confused, but I almost always am when it comes to her, because I can’t read her mind.
But wait. Maybe we’re just— “Are we roughin’ it up?” I ask with a sly smirk, prowling toward her. I’m into it. I’m into everything as long as she’s part of it. If she wants to push me around, I’ll push her right back.
Like, nicely. But not too nice.
“What?” She shakes her head, slamming her eyes shut as she holds her palms up in an attempt to keep me at bay. “No, Carter. Stop. Please.”
Stop? What? No. I don’t want to. But I do, and my face falls.
“Why? Are you okay?” I look her over with a slow sweep. It gets heated on the way down and I wind up making three passes. “Did I hurt you last night?”
I reach for her right hip, right where there are four round bruises that perfectly match my fingertips.
Twisting her, I find my thumbprint on her backside.
She’s also covered in a shit ton of tiny purple hickeys.
A possessive growl rips through me, secretly loving all those marks.
Mine , my brain shouts out, and my third leg jumps with agreement.
Olivia swats my hand away. “No, you didn’t—” She stops, covering her face before she picks up her dress and pushes by me, pulling her dress over her head. “I have to go.”
She forgoes the bra, choosing instead to hook it onto her wrist before she starts searching around the floor, looking for the thong I peeled off her last night, I assume. I neglect to tell her that it’s in the pocket of my jeans, which are half-buried under the bed.
Scratching my head and cupping my balls—she’s on her hands and knees with her round ass in the air—I ask her, “Go where? Do you have plans? I thought you were gonna stay for breakfast.”
Olivia ignores me, giving up on the hunt for her undies with a groan and her hands in the air. She heads for the door, yanking it open and barreling down the hall, and I’m so fucking lost.
I throw on a pair of sweats and chase after her, flying down the stairs behind her.
Wrapping my fingers around her elbow, I tug her back to me. “Are you gonna say anything?” Her eyes are trained on my torso. “Or look at me?” I blow out a frustrated breath and plow my fingers through my hair. “Fuck, Ollie, I’m so confused right now.”
“I have to go,” is all she whispers.
“Go fucking where?” It comes out a lot louder than I intend, ’cause I’m getting real worked up right now, and Olivia flinches.
Pulling in a breath that’s meant to steady me, I place my hands on her shoulders, rubbing down her arms. “I’m sorry.
I’m just a little lost. You said we were gonna talk about us, and—”
She shakes off my touch. “ You said that, not me.”
I blink down at her. She’s still not looking at me.
“You-you-you—” Christ, is this really happening right now? Am I stammering? “You agreed! You said we’d talk after breakfast!”
“We both had too much to drink.” Her excuse is weak and she knows it. “I don’t think we knew what we were doing.”
Bull-fucking-shit. “Fucking look at me if you’re gonna lie to me, Olivia.”
She flips her eyes up to mine and I don’t like what I see. They’re red rimmed, her bottom lip wobbly. What the hell is going on? This is so damn simple. There’s no reason to cry, because I’m right fucking here, wanting her, like I have from the first moment I saw her.
She doesn’t say anything, but the quick rise and fall of her chest lets me know this situation is getting to her. So why the hell is she putting us both in it when it’s obvious it’s not where either of us wants to be? I’m not stupid. This shit I’m feeling isn’t one sided.
“So that’s that? Just another one-night stand? Thanks for the sex, see you never?”
“It’s what you want,” she tries to tell me, clutching her phone to her chest.
“You don’t know the first thing about what I want.
If you did, you wouldn’t be turning your back on me and walking out of here right now, claiming this was just sex that means fuck all to me, or to you.
That’s bullshit. You know it and I know it.
” I’m not afraid to argue with her. I’ll do it all damn day if I think she’s wrong, and right now, she is.
She ducks around me, heading for the kitchen, stepping into the heels she left there. “I have to go, Carter.”
“No, you don’t. You’re refusing to communicate. Here I am wanting to talk about what the hell is going on between us, and there you are, trying to run away.”
“There’s nothing—”