Chapter 5
"You want more?" Oliver asked, sweat beading at his temples.
"No—I can’t, no more." I was breathless, my body trembling from the intensity of it all.
Oliver kissed me on the forehead and pulled me against his damp, naked body. We had been in the air for two hours, and during that time, he had given me four orgasms. I was spent and exhausted. In four hours, we would be landing at Sea-Tac Airport, and I desperately needed to get some sleep.
"Sleep," he whispered, his voice tender.
I yawned. "I plan on it."
He kissed me again and then gently removed his arms from around me. I didn't have the energy to ask what he was doing as I faded off to sleep.
When I woke, Oliver was fully dressed in a gray suit, minus his jacket, which hung on the chair at the small desk he was working at with his laptop. He tapped away at the keys, focused, until I called his name.
"Yes, sweetheart," he responded, looking up from his screen.
"Where are we?"
"About a half hour out of Seattle. You should get dressed," he said, his eyes softening as they met mine.
"I slept well. This bed is very soft," I remarked, stretching languidly.
"We hit some turbulence about two hours ago, but you didn’t stir."
"I was tired. I’m still tired."
"We’re staying in one of my hotels in Seattle. The beds are very comfortable," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
"You own hotels?" I asked, surprised.
"Ryleigh, you’re going to need to fully familiarize yourself with Fox Asset Corporation’s portfolio. I own hotels, restaurants, a few golf clubs, real estate, resorts, and many other interests here and overseas."
"What's the name of the hotel in Seattle?" I inquired, intrigued by this new piece of information.
He smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "The Diamond Square. It’s one of our flagship properties. You’ll love it."
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. Oliver’s world was vast and intricate, and I was only just beginning to unravel its layers. The Diamond Square, I mused. There was one in Manhattan. It was upscale and elegant. I wondered why he didn’t tell me he owned the hotel line.
“You own those? You have one in Manhattan. Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve been married there.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to influence your decision.”
I furrowed my brow. “Seriously? That makes no sense. How many hotels do you have?”
Oliver didn’t look at me while he typed. “We have four names under Fox Asset Corporation totaling about one hundred forty-four properties.”
“Oliver, exactly how rich are you?”
Now, he gave me his full attention, his eyes meeting mine. “I’m wealthy enough to keep you in the lap of luxury for the rest of your life and beyond.”
I propped my upper body on my elbows. “So, I could choose to sit home and have babies if I want?”
“Would you be satisfied with that?”
“Maybe but not too soon. I enjoy working.”
“I enjoy you working too. It’s a pleasure to have you near me all day.”
I shoved the sheet off me and went to freshen up in the bathroom. I heard the captain’s voice come over the intercom alerting us we would be landing soon. I washed my face in the small porcelain basin and cleaned as best I could. I would need a nice hot shower when I got to the hotel.
Oliver was back typing when I came out of the bathroom. He continued as I pulled on my clothing. I fixed the sheets on the bed but he told me not to.
“We have staff for that. They’ll clean the jet and change the sheets.”
“I could get used to being catered to.”
“I’m sure you can.”
He closed his laptop and slid it into a soft black briefcase at his feet then stood up and came over to where I sat on the corner of the bed.
“You’re beautiful,” Oliver said as he stroked his knuckles over my face.
“How are we getting to the hotel?”
“I have a limo waiting. Let’s get buckled in. We should be landing shortly.”
I had never been to the Diamond Square Hotel before, and it was magnificent. The dark marble floors, inlaid with lighter tiles in a zigzag pattern, gleamed under the light of massive crystal chandeliers hanging from soaring tray ceilings. The décor epitomized opulence: rich mahogany-colored wood with gold accents lined the walls, and an entire bank of gold elevators dominated one wall.
Oliver walked up to the front desk and retrieved our keycards without needing to check in. The young woman in a blue uniform addressed him as Mr. Fox with a respectful nod. A bellboy, also in a matching uniform, took our bags, loading the two dark blue suitcases onto a cart. He escorted us to our room, navigating a long hallway lined with thick black carpet featuring a floral design.
Our suite spanned two floors, and I was immediately taken by the panoramic view of Seattle. Even through the fog, the city lights sparkled in the night. I pressed my hands against the thick glass windows, mesmerized, until Oliver's voice called me back to reality.
He stood at the granite bar, which was fully stocked with top-shelf liquor. Pouring himself a half glass of vodka, he dropped in some ice cubes from the freezer.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, noting the unusual choice of hard alcohol.
“I hate firing people,” he admitted, his expression troubled. “It’s part of the business, but I hate it.”
“Gabe deserves it. He’s stealing from you to the detriment of your employees,” I reminded him gently.
“I know,” Oliver sighed, swirling the ice in his glass. “I should be spitting mad, but Gabe’s worked for me for a while. Something must be wrong if he resorted to embezzlement.”
I walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re a good man, Oliver. You care about your employees. That’s why this is hard for you.”
He gave me a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. It’s just... I thought I knew him. This betrayal stings.”
"So, what are you thinking?" I asked, watching the tension in Oliver's jaw as he swirled the vodka in his glass.
"I know he's stealing. That's a given. I want to know why," Oliver replied, his voice firm but thoughtful.
"Does Mr. Fox have a soft spot?" I teased, grinning. His empathy was one of the things I loved most about him.
He took a sip of his vodka and loosened his red tie. "I'm not a cold-hearted bastard. You should know that by now."
"What will you do?" I asked, genuinely curious about his next move.
"I want to talk to him privately," he said, setting his glass down with a decisive thud.
"If that's what your gut is telling you, then do it."
"It is. I want to know the reason."
"Does that mean arrest is off the table?" I asked.
"That depends on what he has to tell me. I'll know if he's lying," Oliver replied, his eyes hardening with resolve.
I moved closer and slid my arms inside his jacket, hugging him tightly.
"I like having you with me. It's soothing," he said.
"Does that mean if I wasn't, you would be a bastard?" I teased.
"Possibly," he said, a smile breaking through his stern expression. He kissed me on the top of my head and took another sip of his vodka.
"I need a shower and something to eat," I said.
"The food here is superb. Pick anything you want," he offered, gesturing to the lacquered wood dining table with twelve chairs around it to where a tablet lay on the table.
"Does this have a menu on it?" I asked.
I went to retrieve the tablet, picking it up.
"Yes, among other information. Press the on button."
I pressed it, and the tablet came to life. A minute later, I was scrolling through the extensive menu. Everything was high-end, but I was in the mood for something simple.
"I want the Wagyu beef burger with Gruyere and black truffles."
"That sounds good. They have pomme frites," Oliver said, trying to sound sophisticated.
I smirked. "Oh, you mean French fries?"
"Yes, Miss Smarty-pants."
"Can you call? I want to shower," I said.
"What do I get in return?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye.
"I think what you got while we were flying here is enough of a reward."
"You think so?"
"Yes, I do. Please order."
I headed to the bathroom in the primary bedroom. The bed was bigger than a king with a beige satin cover and thick white sheets. Six pillows leaned against the beige padded headboard. The bathroom was even more impressive. It was as big as my apartment.
An oversized oval tub sat on light gray porcelain tile. The vanity was several feet long with dove gray granite and double square white vessel sinks. I ran my hand over the curved chrome faucet before turning my attention to the shower.
It was as large as my bedroom with thick frameless glass doors. The tiles were white mosaic on the side that held the rain shower head and back wall while the other two sides were thick glass. I couldn't wait to step inside and let the hot water wash away the stress of the day.
"It's impressive, isn't it?" Oliver's voice startled me. I turned to see him leaning against the doorjamb, stripped down to his black boxers.
"Very impressive," I admitted, taking in the sight of him. "But aren't you supposed to be ordering food?"
"I did," he said, walking towards me. "Now, I thought I'd join you in that shower."
I couldn't help but smile. "Really? You think you can keep up?"
"Oh, I know I can," he said, his voice low and confident as he closed the distance between us.
“Oliver, if you come in here with me, we won’t just be showering.”
“Sex is not on my mind but I would like to wash you.”
I groaned because his idea of washing me was to seduce me with his hands. It turned me on when he massaged shampoo into my long mahogany locks.
He held up his hands. “I promise, I’ll just wash you.”
“Uh huh.”
He ignored me and went to turn on the shower while I undressed. A few minutes later, we were both under the water and he was holding me against his hard body, cupping my ass in his big hands.
“Oliver….”
“Shh, I like this very much,” he said.
“You’re not playing fair. You said you would only wash me,” I whined.
“And I will. I want to hold you.”
“Did you order dinner?”
“No. They know I’m here. Whatever I order will be up to our room in fifteen minutes.”
“I’m starving.”
He let me go and grabbed a small bottle of shampoo and squirted some in his hand. The hotel provided toiletries. Oliver massaged my hair with his hands until my hair was nice and lathered then he moved me under the water. Next, he retrieved one of the washcloths stacked in a built-in shelf and put on a dollop of body wash, cleaning me from head to toe. He lingered between my legs as he cleansed me and I pushed his hand away.
He smirked. “What? I want to make sure you’re clean.”
“You’re trying to arouse me.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” he protested.
“Liar,” I mumbled.
Oliver said nothing as he helped me wash the soap off.
“My turn.”
“I can do it myself.”
“Oh no. I want to assist.”
He smirked as I washed his hair, bending his knees so I could reach the top of his head. I used my hands rather than a washcloth to clean his skin and when I got to his cock, I began to stroke him.
“Ryleigh, what are you doing?”
“You know what I’m doing.”
He hardened against my fist as I continued pumping. Oliver gripped my shoulders and closed his eyes as I made him come in great creamy spurts. His chest heaved and he leaned against me as he caught his breath.
“I think I’m done for the evening.”
“I bet.”
"Oh my God, these are so good," I exclaimed, dabbing at the burger juice running down my chin.
"They better be. I expect excellence in my hotels," Oliver replied with a satisfied smirk.
"If the rest of the food is this good...." I trailed off, savoring another bite.
We were seated at the large dining table, enjoying a late dinner. It was nearing 10:00 p.m., and I could feel the fatigue settling in. Oliver took a large bite of his burger, following it with a few pomme frites dipped in ketchup.
"Slob," I teased, laughing as he wiped his mouth.
"You're right, these are delicious," he agreed, ignoring my jab.
"I like this hotel. Let's move into the one in New York," I suggested, half-joking.
"You don't like the penthouse?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I love the penthouse, but come on, these burgers are fantastic."
"My chef can make them anytime you want. We don't need to move to the hotel."
"You're corrupting me. I don't know if I can ever go back to ramen noodles and fast food."
"That stuff is salty and full of chemicals. You shouldn't be eating it anyway," he said, adopting a mock stern tone.
"Thanks, Dad," I replied, rolling my eyes.
"I'm not old enough to be your father."
"If you became a teen dad you would be," I joked, unable to resist.
Oliver put down his burger and wiped his mouth. "That's not funny. You make me sound like some older creepy guy."
"You're anything but," I assured him, smiling warmly.
"Finish dinner. We need to get an early start tomorrow," he said, his tone shifting to a more serious one.
Oliver looked lost in thought, so I let him be, focusing on finishing my meal. The brioche bun was delicious, but I only ate half before giving up on the carbs and savoring the truffles, meat, and cheese. By the time I raised the white flag, I was stuffed.
"Done?" he asked, glancing up from his thoughts.
"Yes. I'm sleepy now."
"Get ready for bed. I need to do a few things before I join you."
"Oliver, is everything all right?" I asked, sensing his distraction.
I'm just thinking about my game plan for tomorrow. It's nothing you should worry about."
"Are you sure?" I pressed, not entirely convinced.
"Positive."
I piled my plate on the cart the waiter had brought and headed to the bathroom to brush and floss my teeth. I was naked under my robe and decided to slip into bed that way, leaving the light on. I didn't know when Oliver joined me, but I felt his arms slip around me as he held me close and whispered that he loved me.
I piled my plate on the cart the waiter brought and went to the bathroom to brush and floss my teeth. I was naked under my robe and decided to go to bed that way, slipping under the covers but leaving the light on. I don’t know when Oliver joined me, but I felt his arms slip around me as he held me close and told me he loved me.
For once, I was awake before Oliver. He slumbered next to me, softly snoring. I slipped from his grasp and donned my pink robe, heading to windows to watch the sun rise over the city. What a beautiful sight. At least it wasn’t raining today though I did see several clouds in the sky. I don’t think I could live here with all the precipitation the Pacific Northwest received.
“Sweetheart?” Oliver mumbled.
I looked back to see my fiancé turned toward me.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering where you were.”
“I just wanted to watch the sun rise. This view is incredible.”
“The view I see is incredible.”
I blushed. “What time are we leaving?”
He sat up in bed. “I think I prefer you to stay here.”
I frowned. “What? Why? I thought I was going to be involved.”
“Gabe can be volatile at times.”
I felt a bolt of fear go through me. “Volatile?”
“Don’t worry; his bark is worse than his bite. I’m afraid he’ll blow up when I confront him.”
“Will you have security with you?”
If this man was volatile, it was possible he could hurt Oliver especially if he suspected he was about to lose his job or be arrested for his theft.
He nodded. “My team will accompany me. You need not worry about my safety.”
“As your fiancée, that’s my job, to worry.”
He held his arms out to me. I climbed into his lap as he bent his head to press a kiss to my lips.
“I’ll be fine.”
“What am I to do while you’re away?” I asked.
I was hoping we would visit Seattle together but with nothing to do while he was away, I might be on my own.
“Go shopping or something. You have the credit card to use.”
“I thought you wanted me to have security?”
“You will. Brenda is here. She’ll travel wherever you go.”
“How did she get here?”
“Ahead of us.”
“I can use my own money,” I said defiantly.
“If you must but the card is there for you if you need it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need or want your money. I’m not with you because you’re rich.”
Oliver nuzzled my cheek with his nose. “Good. I don’t think I could tolerate a gold digger.”
I slapped his chest. “Jerk. You know I don’t care.”
“So if I was poor, you would still date me?”
“I might even marry you. As long as you keep me entertained in bed, I don’t care about your bank account.”
He chuckled. “Good to know. Maybe I’ll sell it all and give it away to charity.”
“Except for Fox Island,” I said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide my excitement.
Oliver raised his eyebrows. “You would live there?”
“Sure. It’s quiet, and the weather is lovely,” I replied, smiling at the thought.
“What about hurricanes?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
“We could ride it out in one of the caves on the island,” I suggested with a shrug.
“How do you know there’s a cave?” He tilted his head, intrigued.
“I’m just guessing. Is there?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“Two, in fact,” he confirmed with a nod.
“Will you take me to see them?” I asked, leaning in closer.
“Possibly. I was thinking of a two to three-week honeymoon,” he said thoughtfully.
“On the island?” I asked, my excitement growing.
“Of course, unless you want to go somewhere else after a week,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“I’d like to be alone with you,” I said softly, feeling the warmth of his gaze.
“Then the island it is,” he decided, his voice firm.
“If it’s ready,” I added, a hint of doubt in my voice.
“I’ll make sure it’s ready. I want you to myself too,” he assured me, his hand resting on my cheek.
“What about the staff?” I asked, practical as always.
“Only when we need them, and they’ll reside in another building,” he explained, his fingers brushing my hair back.
“I love you,” I whispered, my heart swelling with affection.
“I know,” he said confidently, adding a wink.
“Ass,” I muttered, shaking my head with a smile.
“You know it. Let me take a shower. I want to get to the plant before Gabe gets in,” he said, standing up and stretching.
I moved off Oliver’s lap, feeling the warmth of his body leave mine, and he flipped the sheet off him to reveal his nudity. A part of me wished we could stay in bed all day. We had talked about it, but it never seemed to happen. Maybe I could talk him into staying in bed when it got colder.
As Oliver headed to the shower, I watched him, my mind already wandering to our secluded paradise on Fox Island. It was going to be our little haven, away from the chaos, just the two of us.
I waited until Oliver left for the production plant to take a shower and prepare for the day. When I came out, I selected a pair of black jeans and a burgundy V-neck sweater from my suitcase. The bra and panty set I chose was pink and basically scraps of cloth held together by elastic and lace. Brenda arrived at my room just after I pulled on a pair of socks.
“Miss Stewart, I’m to escort you if you go out.”
“Yes, I know. Can you please call me Ryleigh?”
She smiled. “I prefer to call you Miss Stewart.”
“Is that because you feel comfortable, or it’s a requirement?” I asked.
“It’s part of the protocol.”
“I’m changing the protocol. Call me Ryleigh.”
She nodded and sat on the couch while I secured my sneakers. I wasn’t sure when Oliver would be back, but he told me I had one of the hotel limos at my disposal. I spent most of the late morning going in and out of luxury stores looking for a gift for Oliver. I found what I wanted in the second to last place I stopped, Yorkshire Jewelers. I had the clerk wrap my purchase in a small white gift bag.
The last store I entered and shopped around in was a lingerie place much like Boudoir Fashions in New York. I bought a few pairs of panties and bras before I headed back to the hotel. Oliver wasn’t there and I hadn’t heard from him since he walked out of the room this morning. My stomach churned as I texted him.
Is everything all right? I’m worried.
Please don’t. Everything is fine. We’ll talk when I come home.
I breathed a sigh of relief and asked Brenda is she wanted to join me for lunch. She declined saying if I didn’t need her any longer, she would head back to her room. After she was gone, I placed the gift bag on the large dining table so Oliver would see it when he got here. He arrived a half hour later. I jumped up from the couch as soon as I heard the door open. He looked exhausted, like he went ten rounds in the ring.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Let me change and we can talk.”
I left him alone as he went to the bedroom to change, paging through the complimentary Seattle Times. Oliver came back dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white polo shirt. He plopped down next to me and kissed me on the cheek.
“You seem tired,” I said.
“I am. What Gabe told me was horrible. His wife and daughter both have cancer. His wife has breast, and daughter leukemia. “
I put my hand over my mouth as I sharply inhaled. “Jesus Christ, that poor man.”
Oliver grasped my hand, gently squeezing. “I was right, he was embezzling but for a good reason. He couldn’t afford the medical bills. He was stealing because he didn’t want to go bankrupt. He has two young sons also.”
“Did he tell you immediately?” I asked.
His jaw ticked with tension. “No. In front of the accounting team he tried to play it like it was a glitch in the software. They knew better and so did I. I took him into a private room, and he broke down, telling me everything that was going on. He didn’t know what else to do.”
I put my other hand over his. “How are you handling it?”
He sighed. “I put him on leave with full salary.”
“And the money he embezzled?” I asked.
Oliver pursed his lips. “He would get that much in a yearly bonus. He won’t get one this year in order to replace what he took.”
This was a lesson for me. Sometimes you had to make the hard choices but it wasn’t always what it looked like on the surface.
“Can you trust him?”
“I told him if he has financial issues due to his family’s illnesses, he’s to come to me. I don’t condone what he did but I’m giving him a pass this time. He’s a good employee and this is the only blemish on his record.”
I kept his gaze. “It’s a pretty big blemish.”
“Sometimes you need to look deeper. I’m not always in it to make money. There’s the human factor in business. You’re dealing with people not objects.”
“You’re a good man.”
“I have so much. I can afford to help others when they need it.”
“Do you donate to charities?”
“All the time and all over the world. We’re working on projects to bring fresh water to millions of people in Africa and Asia along with solar power for electricity. Fox Asset Corporation funds several programs to feed and house the impoverished. I believe in giving back.”
“I know. You give so much to me.”
Oliver glanced at the bag on the table. “Speaking of which, what’s in the bag on the table?”
“Why don’t you check and see,” I said, a smile playing at my lips.
He raised an eyebrow but went to retrieve the bag, bringing it to the couch. “What are you up to?”
“Just open it and stop being suspicious,” I teased, leaning back to watch his reaction.
He carefully pulled out the white tissue paper, balling it up and placing it on the coffee table. His eyes widened when he removed the black box with "Vacheron Constantin" engraved in gold on the top.
He looked up at me, curiosity and surprise mingling in his gaze, before opening the box to reveal the watch I had bought for him. Made of eighteen-carat white gold with a black alligator band, it was a statement of elegance and opulence. And a test.
“This is gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice filled with awe.
He took off the yellow gold Rolex he was wearing and replaced it with the Vacheron Constantin, admiring the way it looked on his wrist. “I love it. Thank you for this gift.”
“It was expensive,” I said, testing the waters.
“So, what’s the problem?” He looked at me, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I thought you would be angry I spent so much.”
“Ryleigh, I probably make the cost of this watch every minute of the day. I don’t care if you want to spend money.”
“I was testing you,” I admitted, my voice softening.
“Why? I told you to spend whatever you’d like.” His tone was gentle but probing.
He sat on the couch next to me. The watch looked beautiful on his strong wrist and I was glad to have purchased it for him.
“So, I can go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue?” I asked, half-joking.
“Sure. Get used to spending money,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
“You spoil me,” I said, feeling a warm flutter in my chest.
“I’m just glad to have someone to spoil,” he replied, his expression sincere.
“Were you lonely before me?” I asked, suddenly serious.
“I was in denial before you. I kept thinking I was fulfilled by work. I wasn’t. It wasn’t until you that I realized I wasn’t living.”
“Even with all the social events and women on your arm?” I pressed, needing to understand.
“Once again, they were part of keeping me busy,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why haven’t we attended an event together?” I wondered aloud.
“Do you want to? You know I prefer to stay home and have you all to myself,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.
In that moment, I realized the depth of his feelings for me and the life we were beginning to build together.
"I’d like to go to at least one," I said, trying to keep my voice light.
Oliver's expression darkened slightly. "I do it for security reasons. I don’t want you to be exposed."
My stomach tightened, a knot of anxiety forming. What wasn't he telling me about the threats against my life?
"If it’s not safe, then forget it," I conceded.
"It’s safe as long as you listen to our security team," he assured me, his tone firm.
"I do," I insisted, but I could hear the defensiveness in my own voice.
"Sometimes you can be stubborn," he said, his eyes softening. "You still haven’t decided what you want to do with your apartment."
"I want to move in with you full-time, but I need to have space sometimes," I admitted.
"That would mean spending time away, and I hate that," he replied, a hint of frustration creeping in.
"I don’t mean sleeping somewhere else. I mean going out with friends," I clarified.
"Why can’t we go out together?" he asked, clearly not understanding.
"Because space is good. It doesn’t mean I love you any less," I explained gently.
"I hope not," he said, though there was a vulnerability in his eyes that tugged at my heart.
"Don’t be silly. You own my heart as much as I own yours," I reassured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
"Where would you like to go?" he asked, his voice softening.
"My friends from home would like to come down for a night in the city," I said, excitement bubbling up.
"A night where?" he asked, suspicion already creeping into his tone.
"At a club."
I hadn’t been out for a night on the town in so long. In college, I used to go out with Sadie or some of my friends from the dorm almost every Friday and Saturday. Now that I was with Oliver, I’d become a homebody.
"Which club are you referring to? Clubs are hard as far as security. They’re crowded and full of men with grabby hands," he said, his protective instincts flaring.
"I’ve never had a problem before," I pointed out.
"You’ve never been engaged to a man in the public eye," he countered.
I rolled my eyes. "Wow, conceited much?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"It’s true. I want you safe. If you want to go to a club, then go to one of mine," he suggested, his tone firm but caring.
"Why doesn’t it surprise me that you own clubs around the city?" I said, teasing playfully.
He straightened up as if puffing with pride and stroked his hand over the stubble on his chin.
"Not just Manhattan," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Where else?"
"Los Angeles, Miami, Las Vegas, Vancouver, London, Rome, and Chicago," he listed casually.
I giggled. "Maybe we should take the company jet and hit all of them."
"That could take a while," he said, his smirk turning into a full grin. "I own eighteen of them."
I snorted. "What don’t you own?" I asked, genuinely curious about the extent of his empire.
"I’m not sure what you mean," he said, tilting his head.
"You’re quite diversified," I said, marveling at the man before me.
Oliver shrugged as if it was no big deal but it was a huge deal for someone who basically started from scratch was now a billionaire at thirty seven. I’m not sure if he even understood how admirable what he did was.
“I told you my portfolio is quite expansive. I suggest you familiarize yourself with it if you plan to be my wife and protégé,” Oliver said, his eyes twinkling with a mix of challenge and affection.
I laughed softly. “That could take months, if not years.”
“We have time. The rest of our lives,” he replied, his voice warm and reassuring.
“So, what about the club? Which ones do you own?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Ice, Pinnacle, Bamboo, Club Inc., Rooftop, and Show Me Yours,” he listed.
“I’ve only been to Bamboo,” I admitted.
“I also own some bars,” he added, a hint of pride in his voice.
“When can I go?” I asked excitedly.
“Whenever you want, but I insist on security. You’ll stay in the VIP section,” he said firmly. I saw a fleeting look of worry cross his face before he masked it with a confident smile.
“I want to go this upcoming weekend. Can my friends stay at the penthouse?” I asked, feeling a flutter of excitement.
“How many friends are we talking about?” he inquired, his tone cautious.
“Three. Benny, Diane, and Lisa.”
“Who are these friends?” he asked suspiciously.
“I went to high school with them, and we’ve kept in touch.”
“Is Benny an old boyfriend?” he asked, his voice tightening.
I couldn’t resist teasing him. “He was my first.”
He wasn’t but it was refreshing to see how jealous Oliver got at the mention of another man in my life, even if it was years ago.
He raised his eyebrows, a mix of surprise and concern. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with you hanging out with your first lover.”
“Why not? There’s obviously nothing going on between us now.”
“I’d certainly hope not. He’s seen you naked,” Oliver said, his tone a mix of protectiveness and jealousy.
“But it’s long over. There’s no spark between us,” I reassured him.
“I don’t want to say no, but I don’t think I want him around you.”
“I’m kidding. Benny is only a friend. He’s dating Lisa,” I clarified, grinning at his relief.
“Who was your first and when? We never finished our discussion,” he asked, leaning back and regarding me intently.
“High school. I was sixteen, and his name was David. We dated for several months, and I thought I was in love.”
“How did it end?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“Amicably. The chemistry just disappeared. I think our love was infatuation. He was my real first steady boyfriend. I broke it off,” I explained.
“Do you still see him?”
In a fit of possessiveness, Oliver pressed a kiss to my neck, moving to my ear and nuzzling it. His warm breath against my skin sent chills down my spine.
“I did, but he moved to Little Rock after college. You have no competition, Oliver. None,” I said, my voice softening.
“I’m well aware,” he said, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
“Who was your first and when?” I asked, curious about his past.
I clasped his hand, playing with his fingers.
“Fifteen. We were too young to enjoy what we were doing. Her name was Kayla, and she was my girlfriend for a time.”
“Were you in love with her?”
“Like you, it was infatuation. I’d never had a girlfriend before her. We were so wrapped up in each other, but it faded after a while. Our relationship became a chore. It was too emotional for us,” he explained, a nostalgic look in his eyes.
As we talked, I felt a deeper connection forming between us, our pasts blending into the present, shaping our future together. I wanted to know everything about him because there was so much to tell.
“You never had a girlfriend before you were fifteen?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
"You're gorgeous. How could the girls resist you?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by Oliver's easy confidence.
He chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "I was gangly and awkward at the time. It took another year before women were climbing over themselves to date me."
I raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "That's a really arrogant thing to say. What the fuck, Oliver?"
He shrugged, unbothered by my reaction. "I don't make the rules. It's true. I just filled out the summer between my junior and senior years. I started working out, and the next school year, they wouldn’t leave me alone."
I tilted my head, scrutinizing him. "And no one’s caught you since?"
His gaze softened, and he reached out to gently touch my cheek. "Not until you."
A warmth spread through me at his words, but my stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. I laughed, breaking the tension. "I'm hungry. I need some lunch."
Oliver's eyes darkened with desire. "Well, I need some you."
I smirked, teasing him. "You haven't had enough of me?"
"Nope," he said, his voice low and husky.
Before I could protest, he stood and scooped me into his arms, carrying me to the bedroom. We spent the afternoon making love, the world outside forgotten as we lost ourselves in each other. My stomach growled in protest, but I didn't care.
Later, after we showered, I ordered a ridiculous amount of food off the menu—things I knew would make me sleepy from too many carbs, sugar, and salt. Oliver watched me with amusement as I ate, his laptop open beside him.
When I finished, he tucked me in, his touch tender. He sat on the bed next to me, going over some reports on his laptop. The clicking of his nails on the keyboard was a strangely comforting sound, and I dozed off, feeling safe and content.