Chapter Thirteen #2
“Stop talking and kiss me,” he whispered, before exploring my mouth with his tongue.
I couldn’t stop touching him. And I trembled to feel his hands on my body.
I couldn’t get enough of it. The sensations were almost overwhelming.
Only now, there was real heat in our kisses, our hands stroking and caressing, seeking flesh and warmth.
He was moving in my lap, shifting, hips rolling, and it felt so good.
When he grasped my hand by the wrist and pulled it down to press it against his obvious erection, I groaned into the kiss.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I gaped at him. “Don’t you dare.” Waves of desire and urgent need crashed into me, and I gasped as nimble fingers unzipped my fly, dipped inside, and made contact with the head of my cock.
I mimicked his actions, almost clumsily because neither of us was looking at what we were doing, we were so engrossed, so lost in our kiss.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded as he worked my shaft.
I pushed up, letting it slide through his fingers.
“Ditto,” he gasped out, before throwing his head back when I did as instructed, the silken skin of his dick warm to the touch.
“Oh, fuck. Just like that.” Then he leaned forward, and our foreheads met with a dull thud, not that he seemed to notice.
My breathing was erratic and harsh as he brought me closer and closer, and I did my best to bring him with me.
We stayed like that, our hands almost a blur, until we both passed the point of no return.
I cried out as I shot my load, Ollie’s soft cries echoing mine.
We clung to each other, trembling, shaking.
When my heartbeat had resumed its normal rhythm, I shuddered out a long breath.
“Wow. When you want something, you just go for it, don’t you?
” Except I hadn’t exactly pushed him away, had I?
It had definitely been a joint effort. I reached for some tissues from a nearby box, and handed him a wad of them.
Ollie stilled, and for a moment I had the distinct feeling I’d said something wrong. Then he did a swift clean-up, before scrambling off me, hastily tucking himself back into his jeans, and fastening them.
I blinked. “What’s the rush?”
“Nothing. It’s just that… I just remembered I have an errand to run.” He looked around.
“Now?” Then I realized what he was searching for. “Your coat is hanging up in the hallway, remember?” My heart sank. He wants to leave?
“Oh yeah. Right.” He gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Okay. I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you, all right?”
Okay, this was downright weird. “Okay,” I said slowly. What else could I say? I got up and adjusted my jeans, but he was already heading for the door. I followed him. Ollie squirmed into his boots, put on his coat, then turned to face me.
“Thanks for a lovely evening. Sorry I have to leave.” Then he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, before opening the door and disappearing out into the night.
I closed the door, my mind in a whirl.
What the hell just happened? Then it came to me.
He regrets it. That’s it, isn’t it? He started it, and now he wishes he hadn’t.
And now that my brain wasn’t scrambled by lust, I could see his point.
We’d just gone at it like bunnies. Okay, so a mutual hand job wasn’t exactly going at it like bunnies, but…
I hadn’t even told him how I felt about him.
Whatever I’d intended to say had been submerged in the rush to get my rocks off.
So now he thinks all I’m interested in is sex.
Not that I could blame him. So what if he’d been the one to get the ball rolling.
I hadn’t beaten him off with a stick, had I?
No, I’d gone right along with it. And looking back, I couldn’t believe I’d done that.
God, was I really so clueless? Maybe all Ollie wanted was some closeness, had overstepped, and all I’d done was roll with it.
I hadn’t been thinking. My libido took control and I’d let it, and maybe all I’d succeeded in doing was pushing him away.
I sighed heavily. I’ve messed this up. I half-expected Mike to appear, but he was conspicuous by his absence. Part of me was glad. I hoped he hadn’t seen any of what had transpired, especially Ollie’s speedy exit.
Then it hit me. When Mike was alive, he was always the one who sought me out when I was feeling out of sorts, and he’d talk me through it.
He was definitely the more dominant of the two of us.
But Ollie wasn’t Mike, which was fine, because I didn’t want a replacement Mike—I wanted an Ollie, someone who was on an equal footing.
And that meant I needed to step up if I wanted him.
There was only one thing to do—work out how I could fix this.
Just then, my phone vibrated. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw Ollie’s number. “Hey,” I said softly as the call connected. “I’m really glad you called.”
“I’m sorry,” he began, but I wasn’t going to stand for that.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, okay? There were definitely two of us on that couch.”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have acted so—”
“Stop right there.” I sighed. “Look, we need to talk about this, but not on the phone. Can you come back here?”
“Not tonight. I need to think.” He paused. “But I can come over tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“Of course it is.” Thank God. At least we were discussing it. “Go home, get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wanted to say more, to tell him how important he was to me, but that wasn’t a conversation for the phone either.
“Okay. Goodnight.” He disconnected.
I put down my phone and raked my fingers across my scalp. He wasn’t the only one who needed to think. I needed to get things straight in my mind before I talked to him. And that meant confronting my own feelings of guilt.
I want us to be more than sex. I hoped to God Ollie wanted that too.