15. Chapter Fifteen
chapter fifteen
. . .
Olivia
“You did what?!”
It was the last week for Yoga in the Park at Columbus Commons, and somehow, Meghan had roped me into joining her and Marco. Apparently, my brother refused to attend after his first failed attempt, and they “needed a Friedman.”
“You heard me. Masturbated in my boss’s bathroom and he overheard. It's been almost a week, and I don't think he’s looked me in the eye since. I'm so embarrassed.”
“Oh my God, Livvy, that is too good. You can't make this shit up.” Marco dissolved into a fit of laughter while somehow gracefully rotating into warrior II.
I buried my face in my hands, hiding my flushed cheeks. “I know. It's mortifying. I can't believe I let Dr. March talk me into this 'self-care' routine.”
Meghan transitioned into triangle pose, her voice softening. “Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You're following doctor's orders for your health. ”
“Yeah, but in my boss's bathroom? What was I thinking?” I groaned, wobbling as I tried to mirror Meghan's pose.
Marco steadied me with a gentle hand. “Look, Liv, it's not ideal, but it happened. Now you've gotta own it.”
“Own it? How exactly am I supposed to do that?”
“Simple,” Meghan said, a wicked glint in her eye. “Next time you see Carter, march right up to him and say, 'So, about that orgasm...'“
“Meghan!” I squeaked, nearly toppling over.
Marco grinned. “Or you could always invite him to join you next time.”
“You two are impossible,” I muttered. But their ridiculous suggestions had lightened the mood, and for a few blissful moments, I forgot about the awkwardness waiting for me at the office tomorrow morning.
Thankfully, Marco switched topics. “You're coming to the launch party next week, right?”
“I don't know. It's on a work night. I don't want Carter to think I'm not taking my job seriously.”
“A likely story.”
“I have a solution to this problem,” Meghan said. “We'll just invite Carter, and then you'll both have to come!”
I snorted. “Fat chance of that. If you thought it was going to be hard to get me out on a Wednesday night, it's going to be ten times harder to get Carter to show.”
“We'll see about that,” Marco said. Then he and Meghan exchanged a look. God help me, they were up to something.
“Lunch is served!”
I'd laid out Carter's favorite order from the Brown Bag Delicatessen on the kitchen island, hoping to convince him to step away from his desk. He’d been spending more time in his office since our little run in .
But it wasn't Carter who emerged from the office. It was Pete, stretching and yawning after his morning nap in Carter's desk chair.
“Hi, buddy.” I bent down to give him a scratch behind the ears.
“ Hi, Mom ,” I said in my deep, grumbly Pete voice.
“Did you have a good nap?”
“ The best. Dreamed of carrots.”
“Are you… talking to yourself?”
I straightened up sharply, coming face-to-face with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Grumpy. We were finally making eye contact again, but of course, it came paired with another humiliating moment.
“I, um, I was talking to Pete.”
“That's a very deep voice Pete has.” Carter's mouth quirked with the hint of a smile.
“Alright, mister. That's enough out of you.” I poked his muscular arm.
“Ouch.”
“Oh stop it, you big baby. Go eat your lunch.”
Carter took his seat, and I stood on the opposite side of the island, sorting his mail. I handed him the sorted stack, waving one envelope at him with a grin. “I know what this one is.”
“What is it?”
“An invitation to Marco's new agency launch party.”
He took the envelope, tore it open, and scanned the contents. Then he crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash. “Pass.”
“What? Why?” I asked, baffled.
He shrugged. “It's on a Wednesday. At a nightclub. I'm not going to a club on a Wednesday.”
“Lighten up, grandpa. You can take one night off from your five-step bedtime routine to have a little fun.”
“Six.”
“Huh?”
“My bedtime routine. It's six steps.”
“Oh God. I was kidding. Do you really have a six-step bedtime routine?”
Carter's brow furrowed. “Yes. Why? Is that weird?”
I bit my cheek, fighting back a laugh. “No, Carter. That's not weird. That is so delightfully you.”
He swallowed a bite of sandwich and cleared his throat, his eyes darting up to meet mine.
“So, are you going?” he asked, a little too casually.
“To Marco's launch party?”
He nodded, taking another bite of his food.
I shrugged, trying to match his nonchalance. “I'm not sure yet. It would be nice to support Marco, but...”
Carter set down his sandwich, his full attention on me now. “But what?”
My resolve to be nothing less than professional snapped like a rubber band. “You know what? Yes. I am going. And I am going to have a damn good time!”
“Well, okay then.” Carter's lips twitched.
“What's so funny?”
“You said 'damn.'“
I cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah. And?”
“Don't think I've ever heard you curse before.”
“Oh please. I'm sure you have.”
“Nope. You're all sunshine and rainbows.”
“And you're storm clouds and thunder.” The words flew out before I could catch them, and the playful atmosphere dissipated. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.”
“It's fine. You're not wrong.” Carter stood, scooping up his trash and dumping it in the bin. “I'm gonna get back to work. Come on, Pete.”
I grabbed his forearm as he passed by. The moment my fingers touched his skin, an electric current zipped through me.
Carter froze, his muscles tensing beneath my hand. His eyes locked onto mine, widening slightly.
“I… “ What was I even trying to say? That I was sorry for making things weird? That I wanted us to go back to how we were before?
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
I made myself take a deep breath then tried again. “I hope we can move past... the incident . I value our working relationship, and I'd hate for things to stay awkward between us.”
Carter's gaze softened, and he gave me a half smile. “Olivia, everything's fine. You don't need to worry.”
I nodded, relief washing over me. But then I noticed I was still touching him and heat crept up my neck. I snatched my hand away, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.
Carter cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “Was there anything else?”
“No, that's all. Thanks.” I busied myself with straightening papers on the counter, avoiding his eye.
“Alright then. Back to work.” Carter's voice was gruff, but not unkind. He turned and strode towards his office, Pete scampering at his heels.
I let out a shaky breath, willing my heart to slow its frantic beating. Everything was fine, Carter had said so himself. So why did I feel like I'd just run a marathon?
Walking to the deli to pick up lunch had been a mistake. My body was in full protest. I felt drained and achy in a way I hadn't in weeks.
Carter approached my desk, a pile of papers in hand. I tried to hide my discomfort as I settled back into my chair.
“Olivia, I need your help with—” He stopped mid-sentence, his brow creasing. “Are you alright?”
I forced a smile. “I'm fine, Carter. What can I help you with?”
He set the papers down and leaned against my desk, his eyes searching my face. “You're not fine. You're in pain.”
“It's nothing,” I insisted, reaching for the papers. “What's the project?”
Carter's large hand covered mine, stopping me. His touch sent a shiver through me, momentarily distracting me from the ache in my pelvis.
“The project can wait,” he said firmly. “You need to rest.”
“Carter, I'm okay. I can work.”
He straightened up, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Olivia, I insist. Go lie down in the guest bedroom.”
“But—”
“No buts. Your health comes first. The work will still be here when you're feeling better.”
I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with him when he used that tone. Slowly, I pushed myself up from my chair, wincing as a fresh wave of pain washed over me.
Carter's hand was on my elbow in an instant. “Easy,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
As we walked towards the guest bedroom, I felt a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. His concern was touching, but I hated appearing weak, especially in front of him.
“You don't have to coddle me,” I said as we reached the bedroom door.
“I'm not coddling you, Olivia. I'm looking out for my best employee.”
“I'm your only employee.”
He chuckled, a low, warm sound that made my heart skip. “Semantics.”
I settled onto the bed, and he lingered next to it. “Do you need anything?”
I shook my head, still feeling awkward. “No, I don't need anything. Thank you, Carter. ”
He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. “Can I sit with you for a bit?”
I nodded, surprised by his request but not wanting him to leave. I shifted in the bed, making space for him as I lay on my side. Carter sat down next to me.
We sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. Then Carter tentatively reached out, his hand hovering over my waist. “May I?”
I nodded again, unable to find my voice. His touch was gentle as he stroked down my side, the heat from his hand seeping through my clothes and easing some of the tension in my muscles.
Carter cleared his throat, his eyes meeting mine. “Olivia, I know this is awkward, but I want you to be comfortable. If you want me to leave so you can find some, uh, temporary relief...” He trailed off, his meaning clear.
My face burned hot, and I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was for him to leave. A daring part of me even wondered if he could help alleviate my pain in a more direct way.
“No,” I said, my voice barely audible. “Please stay.”
His hand continued its movement along my side, his touch both soothing and electrifying. I allowed my eyes to close and focused on the heat radiating from his palm.
“Is this helping?” he asked.
The pain was still there, but it had dulled to a manageable ache under his ministrations.
I opened my eyes, preparing to answer, and found his face inches from mine. His eyes held a mix of concern and something more intense. For a second, I forgot how to breathe .
“Olivia,” he whispered, his hand stilling on my hip, “let me help you.”
My mouth was too dry for words. Instead of answering, I rolled onto my back, giving him the access he needed. His eyes flared.
Is this really happening? There's no way—no way Carter Cassidy is touching me this way.
His fingers trailed along my hip. My breath stuttered as he grazed the sensitive spot just above my pelvic bone. With each caress, more of the tension melted away.
His touch was tentative at first, as if he were afraid he might break me. But his movements soon became more confident, exploring my body with a combination of gentleness and purpose. He found the spots that made me squirm and the spots that made me sigh.
As his fingers danced over my skin, a fire ignited within me. My pulse quickened, and a moan escaped my lips. He slipped his hand beneath my shirt. The brush of his fingertips against my bare skin elicited a sharp intake of breath from me.
Mortification gradually gave way to arousal. I sensed Carter’s hesitation, as if he were worried about pushing me too far, too fast. But my body craved more, and I wanted him to take me there.
When his fingers dipped lower, teasing my most sensitive spots, an irresistible wave of pleasure surged through me. My hips bucked involuntarily, and heat pooled between my legs.
The ache in my pelvis had transformed into a sweet, insistent need, and I whimpered as his hand slid into my panties.
“Carter,” I whispered, my voice laced with pleading.
He didn't respond with words; instead, his hand dipped lower and lower. His breath was warm on my neck as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over my sensitive skin. The gentle teasing was driving me wild with desire. Every touch, every caress, sent me careening towards the edge.
“Please,” I breathed, my hands fisting the bed sheets.
His laugh was sensual, deep and low. “Almost there,” he promised, his voice husky and strained.
His fingers quickened their pace, and my body tensed, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to release. Tears pricked my eyes as I hovered on the brink, my body begging for release.
Then, with a final, deft touch, Carter pushed me over the edge.
My back arched off the bed, and I cried out. It was overwhelming, an explosive thrill reverberating through me, erasing all thoughts from my mind and pain from my body.
Carter's hands slowed to a steady rhythm as I floated back to earth, my body boneless and sated. He smoothed my hair away from my face, his thumb gently brushing my cheek.
“Better?”
“Mhm.” My eyes drifted closed as I savored the lingering sensations.
We stayed that way for a moment, quiet and still, then Carter reluctantly pulled away. I felt a pang of loss, but he merely straightened the blankets around me, tucking me in like a child.
“Rest now,” he urged, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something I wasn’t ready to analyze.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my eyes still closed.
The last thing I was aware of before drifting off to sleep was the soft press of his lips against my forehead.