Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
T he party started an hour ago. Friends and co-workers were scattered throughout the property, from the pool to the lake. Olivia's laughter carried across the boathouse, her head thrown back as she clutched Hannah's arm. The group of girls from work huddled around them, their voices a melodic chorus rising above the party's din.
The girls were all in bikini tops and cutoff shorts, except for Olivia. Her white sundress caught the light, drawing my eye again and again. Each time she moved, that delicately tied strap at her back made my fingers itch to pull it loose.
My chest tightened watching her—not just from wanting her, but from the maddening certainty that every other man at this party saw exactly what I saw. I kept checking my watch, willing time to speed up, needing everyone else to leave so I could have her to myself.
"Hello, old friend." Kathryn's hand touched my shoulder, her familiar perfume announcing her presence before her words did. I turned, forcing my attention away from Olivia.
"Glad you could make it." I pulled her into a hug. "Drink?"
"Of course." Her smile made me wonder how much she'd already observed. I gestured toward the boathouse, and she fell into step beside me, her heels clicking against the wooden dock.
Kathryn leaned against the bar, rings catching the light as she drummed her fingers on the polished surface. "Frozen Margarita."
"Another beer, sir?" The bartender reached for the tap before I could respond. I gave a distracted nod, my eyes already scanning the room for a glimpse of the white sundress.
Olivia was still in the same spot with the same girls, but they'd attracted several men now.
"Is that her?" Kathryn's margarita paused halfway to her lips, her gaze following mine across the room.
"Who?" The feigned innocence in my voice fooled neither of us. Kathryn's eyes narrowed, cutting through my pretense with the precision of a surgeon. "Olivia? Yes, that's her."
"She seems to be fitting in well." Kathryn swirled her drink.
"Not today, Kathryn." My fingers tightened around my beer bottle until my knuckles whitened.
"What?" She snatched the empty bottle out of my hand and pressed a fresh beer into it. "I was only going to say she's beautiful." The slight emphasis on 'only' hung between us, heavy with unspoken observations.
"Kat," Liam yelled from across the boathouse.
Liam and Justin joined us. Both were soaked from riding the jet skis on the lake.
"Ready for a ride on the jet ski?" Justin shook water from his hair, droplets scattering across the deck.
"No, thank you." Kat shook her head. "I prefer to stay on dry ground."
"Come on, it'll be fun."
"Excuse me," I said to my friends. "I'll catch up with you later."
I stepped out of the boathouse and skimmed the area for Olivia. She wasn't on the lake or the dock. I walked to the front of the boathouse and found her with a dark-haired man on the beach.
Each splash of water between them felt like acid in my veins. Her laugh—that laugh that usually made my day brighter—now scraped against my nerves like broken glass. When she ran her hand over his arm, my vision actually blurred at the edges. I could feel my heartbeat in my temples, in my fists, everywhere except where it should be, because watching her touch him felt like having my heart ripped out through my throat. The worst part wasn't that she was flirting with him—it was that until this moment, I hadn't realized how much power she had to hurt me.
"Hannah," I stopped her as she passed and headed to the dock. "Who is that with Olivia?"
Hannah glanced over her shoulder. "That's Luke. He's an intern in her department. He likes her."
"Let's go, Hannah!" The engine's roar nearly drowned out Liam's voice.
"I gotta go." Hannah's bare feet slapped against the wet dock as she jogged toward the water, already pulling her hair into a ponytail.
I wasn't sure how I felt about someone else who liked Olivia. I couldn't blame him. Eventually, it was bound to happen, but not now. Not yet!
Olivia laughed and started to run away from him, and he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into him. I might not know how I felt about him liking her, but I knew exactly how I felt about him touching her: furious.
"Take your hands off of her." Each word fell like ice between us as I crossed the beach. Luke's hands dropped from Olivia's waist as if burned, his confident posture crumpling under my stare.
Olivia's eyes snapped up meeting mine confusion covering her pretty face.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Pearson." Luke took a stumbling step backward, throat working as he swallowed. Sand kicked up around his feet as he retreated. "I?—"
"Yo—" My hands curled into fists at my sides.
"Nick." Olivia's voice was soft but firm.
"Everything okay?" Kathryn materialized at my elbow, her sudden presence like a splash of cold water. The muscle in my jaw twitched.
She stepped between us, all warm smiles. "You must be Olivia." Her extended hand created a barrier between me and Luke. "It's so nice to meet you finally. I'm Kathryn, a friend of Nick."
"It's nice to meet you." Olivia's fingers brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped during her play with Luke. The gesture sent a fresh wave of tension through my shoulders.
"We should all grab a drink." Kathryn's voice carried the same soothing tone she used with agitated clients.
"Sounds great." Olivia's eyes darted between Luke and me, her smile not quite reaching them.
My gaze locked onto Luke. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" The words came out soft, dangerous. Behind me, Kathryn's sharp intake of breath warned I was pushing too far.
Kat's small hand wrapped around my arm, but I pulled away. I wanted him away from her. If he touched her again, I would break his fingers. "Nick." Kat's voice was firmer this time. "Let's take a walk."
"No." The word rumbled from deep in my chest. My fingers closed around Olivia's wrist, pulling her against me. Her pulse raced beneath my grip, her eyes wide, but her lips stayed pressed in a tight line. "Get lost."
"Nick," Olivia gently pulled against my grasp but I didn't budge, "What's wrong with you?"
"Bye, Olivia." Luke's voice cracked like a teenager's. He took one step backward, then another. "See y—" His gaze dropped to where my thumb pressed into Olivia's wrist, and whatever he saw there had him pivoting mid-word, his casual retreat becoming an urgent escape.
"Nick." Kathryn's voice cracked like a whip, but I was already moving, Olivia's warmth against my side as I guided her toward the house. Blood rushed in my ears, drowning out everything but the need to get her alone.
I dragged her up the long path, into the house, and shoved her into the large walk-in pantry closet.
"Nick." Olivia's breath hitched as the door clicked shut behind us covering us in darkness. My mouth crashed hard against hers as I slammed her back into the door and pinned her hands above her head. I demanded her submission. I wanted her to know she was mine. She immediately surrendered, her lips parting and I shoved my tongue inside, teasing and tasting every inch of her mouth until I sucked the air from her lungs.
Ripping my mouth from hers, she gasped for air as I spun her, pinning her to the door. Her hands still pinned above her head, I pressed my cock hard into her back.
"You feel that?" I breathed in her ear as I used my other hand to pull her hair hard to the side to give me better access to her ear.
"Yes," she moaned.
"Tell me you want it." My lips grazed her ear, feeling her pulse race beneath my grip.
"I want it." The words escaped on a shaky exhale, her fingers curling against the door.
Releasing her hands, I ran my fingernails up her bare thighs until I found the string holding her bikini on under the dress and released it, letting it fall to the ground. Her breathing deepened as my hand moved over her hips and slid down to her heat. I moved my fingers slowly teasing her, making her want more, making her need more. I ground my throbbing erection into her back, circling her most sensitive spot and making her cry out for more.
"Want what, Olivia?"
"I want you to fuck me."
"Tell me you're mine." My grip tightened on her wrists, need roughening my voice.
"I'm yours."
"Tell me your body is mine."
"My body is yours."
"And who's pussy is this?"
Shoving my pants down, I pulled out my cock. "It's yours, please, Nick," she begged. I kissed her ear and moved my way down her neck as I pulled her dress up and leaned her forward to position myself to enter her. Grabbing her around her waist, I thrust hard into her. A moaning gasp escaped her lips.
I wanted to make her scream. I wanted to make her scream loud enough that Luke knew she was mine and only mine. Another hard thrust made her scream out in pleasure as her body began to vibrate around me. I reached around, ripping the front of her dress and exposing her full tits as I continued to pump in and out of her, harder and faster with each stroke. I wanted to claim her. I wanted to mark her as mine. I wanted every man here to know she was mine.
Her moans got louder, and I could feel my climax coming closer. Another thrust and her body shook uncontrollably, and I felt her release around me. I pushed harder and pulled out quickly, releasing myself on the back of her dress and up her back.
I slowly pulled out of her, and she straightened as she caught her breath and worked to put herself back together but there was no putting that dress back together.
"Why did you do that?" She felt the evidence of my climax on her back. "You ruined my dress."
That was my intention. I wanted the evidence that she was mine permanently stained into her dress. I wanted to ruin her. I never wanted another man to look at her. But the look on her face pulled me back from whatever rage I was stuck in.
"Olivia," I said. "I—" I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to explain what happened because I didn't understand it. That had never happened to me before. I had never lost myself in a jealous rage before.
I met her eyes and could see the confusion in them.
"Nick, what's wrong with you?" I had no idea how to answer that.
"I'm sorry, I lost control."
"How am I supposed to go back to the party?" I couldn't tell her I didn't want her to return to the party. "How am I supposed to leave this closet?" She held up the top of her dress.
I backed toward the door. "I'll walk out and make sure it's clear. If it is, you can go upstairs."
She reached for a towel and used it to cover herself.
I stepped out of the closet and was immediately confronted by Hannah.
"Where's Olivia?" Hannah planted herself in front of me, arms crossed. My silence only made her eyes narrow further. "I saw her come up here with you." She took a step closer, voice dropping. "What's going on?"
I focused on a point over her shoulder, jaw tight.
"Is she in the closet with you?" Hannah's hand shot out toward the door handle. I reached to stop her, but too late—the door swung open with a bang. "Oh my god!" Her gaze snapped between me and Olivia, understanding dawning in her widening eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm good." Olivia's voice was steady, but her fingers twisted in the towel she held.
"Come on, let's go get you cleaned up." Hannah's gentle tone with Olivia contrasted sharply with the look she shot me—part disappointment, part warning. As they passed, Hannah's shoulder brushed mine. The gesture said everything her silence didn't.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Every rule I'd built my life around—keep distance, stay in control, no attachments—was crumbling like sand through my fingers. I'd set the terms myself: not exclusive, no strings, no promises. So why did the mere thought of her with someone else feel like being stabbed?
I pressed my forehead against the cool window, trying to slow my breathing. Distance. I needed distance from Olivia. But even as I thought it, I knew it was like an alcoholic promising to stay away from bars—my body physically ached at the idea of not seeing her. When had she become my addiction?
Stepping out on the patio, I grabbed a beer from the open pool bar.
"What was that about?" Kat's voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to find her perched on a pool chair, one eyebrow raised in that therapist expression I knew too well.
"What was what?" I lifted the bottle to my lips, buying time, though we both knew exactly what she meant.
"You know what I'm talking about." She unfolded herself from the chair with careful deliberation—the way she always moved when she was preparing for a long conversation.
"Not here." I jerked my head toward the house, already moving. The last thing I needed was an audience for whatever conversation was coming. I led her through the house and into my office, shutting the door behind us.
"Well?" Kathryn settled into the leather chair, crossing her legs. The gesture was so familiar from our therapy sessions that my jaw clenched reflexively.
"I don't know what happened." The edge of my desk bit into my palms as I leaned against it. "I'm losing it."
"I wouldn't say you're losing it, but?—"
"You don't know what happened when I brought her to the house." My knuckles whitened against the mahogany.
Kathryn leaned forward, her practiced calm slipping just enough to reveal concern. "What happened?"
"I fucked her." Each word scraped raw in my throat. "I claimed her."
"Okay." Her voice remained steady, but her fingers tightened on the armrest. "Did she want it?"
"Yes, I made her say she wanted it." I pushed off the desk, pacing like a caged animal. "I made her ask for it. I made her say she was mine."
"What's the problem?" The question hung in the air between us, gentle but unavoidable.
My forehead pressed against the cool window glass. "She's not mine."
"Nick, I understand not wanting a relationship, but you are clearly in love with this girl. So, why are you fighting this?"
My hand raked through my hair as I paced to the window. The party continued below, oblivious to the walls crumbling around me. Love. The word alone made my chest constrict.
"This is deeper than what Victoria did, isn't it?" Kathryn's reflection in the window showed her leaning forward, elbows on knees—her classic 'we're getting to the real issue' pose.
When I didn't respond, she let the silence stretch, a technique I knew well. "Nick." Just my name, but weighted with years of friendship and understanding.
"What if I'm like him?" The words tasted like copper in my mouth, bitter and metallic. They hung in the air between us, heavy with two decades of unspoken fears.
"Nick, you are nothing like your father. Nothing."
My hands clenched the window frame until my knuckles went white. "What if she remembers that afternoon?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "What if she realizes I'm the reason she went home? That everything that happened to her traces back to me?" The guilt I'd carried for years felt suddenly heavier, as if Olivia's nightmares were physical things weighing on my shoulders.
"First, you are lucky enough to have had the opportunity to get out of a bad situation and into a loving one. The Ryan's loved you like their own; if you are like anyone, it would be like Mr. Ryan, not your father."
I turned to look at her. She was right. I was lucky.
"Second, who knows how Olivia will react when she remembers? It all depends on how she remembers it. Maybe you should both come to see me. You know, for a session. It could help with her nightmares."
I nodded. "Maybe."