Chapter 9
Friday afternoon, Oliver ducked into my office, his long navy-blue coat buttoned up and gloves on. He looked every bit the dashing figure against the backdrop of my cluttered desk.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my fingers still poised over the keyboard.
“You mean where are we going,” he corrected.
“I’m not finished entering this data.”
“Your boss will forgive you. Get your coat.”
I stopped typing to look up at him. I hated when he kept me in the dark but I was getting used to being the fiancée of Oliver Fox.
“Oliver, just tell me where you’re taking me,” I said, trying to keep my curiosity in check.
“Difficult,” he teased, a grin spreading across his face.
“I’m not. I’m just curious,” I protested.
“If you hurry, you’ll find out soon enough.”
After slipping on my coat, he led me to the elevator, and we descended to the lobby. Outside, a limo was waiting.
“What are you up to, Oliver Fox?” I narrowed my eyes at him, suspecting another one of his surprises.
“Vlad, take us back to the penthouse,” he instructed the driver, ignoring my question.
I crossed my arms and stared at him. A smile danced on his lips as he pretended to be busy reading emails on his phone. Dragging information out of him would only make him tease me more, so I kept my mouth shut.
Back at the penthouse, he told me to dress warmly.
“Warm for what?” I asked.
“Just do it.”
He went to the closet to remove his charcoal gray suit, and I couldn’t resist admiring his sculpted body as he dressed. He turned and caught me looking, making me blush and look away.
“Hurry up. You take so long,” he chided, a playful smirk on his lips.
I pulled on a pair of dark blue jeans and a thick royal blue sweater. Oliver was now in black jeans and a cashmere V-neck gray sweater. Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the limo, joined by Brenda and Trevor. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as Oliver put his arm around my shoulders.
We headed toward midtown, and I tried to figure out where we were going. My suspicions were confirmed when we pulled up near Rockefeller Center. I had mentioned to Oliver that it would be fun to ice skate and walk Fifth Avenue to look at the holiday windows.
“You’re taking me ice skating?” I asked, excitement bubbling up inside me.
“Yes. You said you wanted to.”
I leaned in and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips, my heart swelling with affection. We skated for over an hour until my nose hurt from the cold. The sun began to set, and the wind picked up, adding a biting chill to the air. Trevor skated with us, keeping a watchful eye out, while Brenda patrolled the perimeter of the rink.
Even though it was a weekday, the rink was filled with people enjoying the ice. Oliver was a surprisingly good skater, even going backwards with ease. After we finished, we went inside to warm up with some hot chocolate.
I cradled the warm cup in my hands, feeling content and happy. “Thank you, Oliver. This was perfect.”
He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You said you wanted to go. Work was light today so I thought we would take off early.”
I scooped up some of the whipped cream from the top of my hot chocolate and held it out for Oliver. He sucked my finger into his mouth, caressing the pad with his tongue before he let it go. A bolt of heat shot through me, warming my body and making my core clench with desire.
“What are we doing tonight?” I asked huskily.
“What would you like to do?” Oliver asked, his voice rich and inviting.
“Pizza with the works,” I replied, feeling a twinge of guilt.
“With the works?” he echoed, eyebrow arched.
“I know, I’ve been lazy this week.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll go to the gym for longer next week, maybe an hour and a half.”
I sighed. “I guess. I need to do some shopping, too.”
“I thought you did last week.”
“That was online, but some things require in-store purchases.”
“Take Brenda with you, maybe Trevor too. It’s busy and crowded this time of year.”
“It’s Manhattan, it’s busy and crowded all the time.”
“Finish your hot chocolate. I’d like to go home and have you all to myself.”
“You really are a homebody,” I teased, leaning into him.
“I spend all day talking to people and shaking hands. I want to relax and take it easy. Maybe we can have some more of that red wine from last night.”
“That sounds good. Pizza and red wine.”
“And you?” he asked.
“And me.”
He squeezed my hand, his eyes softening. “I love you, Ryleigh.”
He was about to kiss my hand when a voice pierced the moment.
“Ollie?”
Oliver turned, his expression shifting from affectionate to surprised. A stunning woman with fiery red hair and striking green eyes approached us. Her confident stride and radiant beauty instantly set me on edge.
“Ollie?” I mouthed, incredulous. Oliver shook his head slightly, standing to greet the woman. She kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain that she casually wiped away with her fingers. The familiarity in her touch made my stomach churn.
“How are you, Lara? Let me introduce you to my fiancée,” he said, his tone a bit stiffer than before.
Lara’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought you said you weren’t the marrying type?”
“At the time I knew you, I wasn’t,” he replied coolly. “Lara Harvin, this is Ryleigh Stewart.”
I extended my hand, trying to mask my irritation. Lara ignored it, nodding at me instead. I clenched my jaw, fighting to keep my composure. Her dismissive attitude was infuriating.
“I thought you were supposed to give me a call for drinks,” she said, her eyes flicking to me for a moment.
“I’ve been busy,” Oliver replied, his discomfort palpable.
“I bet you have,” she said, her gaze lingering on me before turning back to Oliver. “We can talk another time.”
Then, as if I weren’t even there, she reached up and stroked his face, her eyes locked on mine as she pressed her lips to his. Oliver looked momentarily helpless before quickly pulling back.
“Lara, that’s enough,” he said firmly, stepping away from her.
She shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips.
“Call me. I miss spending time with you. See you later Eileen,” she said as she sauntered away, joining a group of people she’d been sitting with. I was seething with anger and Oliver gave me a sheepish look.
“What the fuck was that?” I hissed.
“Nothing. She’s a friend.”
“You could’ve fooled me. I’m tired. Let’s go home.”
Oliver signaled for the check as I pulled on my navy blue down coat. I was in no mood to hear his explanations and was happy that Brenda and Trevor were in the limo with us. If they weren’t, I would’ve exploded. I sat there simmering, hoping I could hold my tongue until I got into the penthouse.
“You’re angry, I get it.”
I yanked off my coat, shoving it on a hanger and putting it in the foyer closet.
“Do you, Oliver? Do you really get it?” I whipped my head around, shooting him a glare. “How many times?”
“How many times what?” he asked with confusion.
I ground my teeth. “How many times did you fuck her?”
“A few times,” he admitted, “but not in the past couple of years.”
“You told me you didn’t have a lot of sex before me. How close were you to her?”
“We spent time together. Why are you so upset?”
I clenched my fists. “Because she touched and kissed you like you were hers. You just stood there like an idiot. I looked like a fool,” I yelled.
“I didn’t want to create a scene.”
I got into his face. “So if one of my exes did that to me you wouldn’t have an issue as long as I didn’t create a scene?”
His eyebrows slammed together. “Of course I would have a problem with it. She means nothing to me and never did like you do.”
He tried to push me against the wall and go in for a kiss, but I ducked under his arm and started walking down the hall to the bedroom.
“Ryleigh, let’s talk about this,” he begged.
“There’s nothing to talk about. How many other women will I encounter that will do the same thing? How many know your body intimately and want to be where I am?”
“Which is where,” he said as he strode into the bedroom and tore off his sweater.
“Your fiancée, sharing your bed, loving you.”
“There are a few but I never had any feelings for them. I never ever felt the way about them that I feel about you. We belong together. Don’t let this one stupid thing drive us apart.”
I sat down on the bed and ripped at my shoelaces, creating a knot because I was too hasty. I tried to open it and got frustrated, finally toeing off my sneakers and kicking them away from the bed. Oliver picked them up and began working on the knots. I said nothing as I tore off my socks then went to go the closet. He joined me a couple of minutes later, pressing his chest against my bare back as I hunted for a shirt to wear.
“Oliver,” I whispered.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
I turned around, leaning against him. I no longer felt like eating as my stomach churned like a washing machine on the heavy cycle. I just wanted to relax in bed even though it was barely 6:00 p.m.
“Do you still want to get pizza?” he asked softly.
I shook my head. “Maybe later.”
“Are you sick? You only ate a chicken sandwich for lunch.”
“I’m upset.”
“Please don’t be. You mean so much to me.”
I backed away, taking one of Oliver’s white t-shirts that was folded in one of the cubbies on his side of the closet. I slipped it over my head before I pushed my jeans down my hips and let them fall to the floor.
“You’re wearing that to bed?”
“Yes, why?”
Oliver licked his lips. “It’s seductive.”
“It’s a freaking white t-shirt.”
“Yes, it’s that and it’s also see-through. I can see your nipples and red panties.”
“Deal with it,” I said as I walked out of the closet and peeled back the blue quilt on the bed.
I knew he was watching me and bent over to plump the pillows, jutting out my lace clad ass before I slid into bed. Oliver joined me a few minutes later only wearing a pair of black form fitting boxers.
We were both wound tight as a spring and it was only a matter of time before we both boiled over and I ended up naked underneath him. I switched on the flat screen television on the wall, pulling away the remote when Oliver grabbed for it.
“Can you please switch to the financial news for a minute?” he asked.
“No. It’s Friday and that’s work,” I protested.
“Just a few minutes,” Oliver begged.
“No. I don’t want to deal with anything business or work related.”
Just to be a brat, I switched on some reality show that I knew he hated. He propped his pillows against the headboard and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Ryleigh, please?”
I waved him away with my hand. “Next commercial.”
“Now.”
“Check your phone. I know you have all those stock apps on it.”
He was quick but not quick enough, trying to snatch the remote out of my hand. I pulled it away, holding it over the floor so he couldn’t reach. He was leaning over me and bent down to suck my nipples. I gasped as I pushed his mouth away.
“Stop that. Play fair!” I demanded.
He chuckled. “Oh, we’re playing now?”
“You seem to be.”
“Works for me.”
He shoved the covers off, hopped between my legs and tugged at my panties.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m hungry and I’d like to start with dessert first. Lift your hips.”
When I didn’t comply, he tugged harder until the lace tore, discarding the red scraps on the floor.
“Stop destroying my panties!” I yelled.
“Then honor my requests.”
I kept switching the channels as he dipped down and took a long stroke of my clit with his tongue. I wanted to cry out, but I held it in. He pushed my leg to the side and inserted a finger - still I kept quiet. It was a war of wills. Oliver kept watching my face which I tried to keep passive. He circled my swollen nub with the tip of his tongue while finger fucking me. I was quickly losing control.
My belly was burning as I grew closer to orgasm and I bit my lip to hold in another moan. Oliver was trying his best to get me to make noise. He continued to lash his tongue over me until I dropped the remote, arched my back and cried out his name as my orgasm ripped through me.
“That’s my girl.”
I fell back to the bed, boneless but not sated. The only thing that would satisfy my need was his cock. As if reading my mind, he removed his hands from me, got off the bed and pushed off his boxers. His rigid penis was bobbing against his belly as he gripped it in his fist and pumped. I watched him as he climbed on the bed, opening my legs wider to accommodate him.
“Ready for me,” he said as he stroked himself.
“You know I am.”
He covered my body with his own and slammed into me. I dug my nails in his back as we fucked, mewling and whimpering under him. He nibbled at my breasts without pushing up my shirt, dampening the fabric with his saliva. Oliver kept relentlessly pounding at me, grinding his base against my clit until I released again with a loud howl. He didn’t find his own until he gave me one more orgasm then collapsed on top of me.
“You know we use sex to deal with frustration between us,” I panted.
“I know, but isn’t makeup sex so much fun?” he asked.
“Sex with you is always fun and now I’m starving.”
“Pizza with the works?” he said as he kissed the tip of my nose.
“And fried calamari.”
“You’re working out extra hard next week.”
“I promise.”
He pulled out of me and helped me up so we could take a quick shower together. Any anger I had melted away with the endorphins coursing through my system. This wouldn’t always work, and it was probably not healthy to handle disagreements between us in this way, but it was how we dealt with them for the time being.
"Shit," I muttered as a piece of sausage slipped off my slice and landed on the table. We had ordered a pizza with the works, and it was hitting the spot perfectly. The calamari was slightly crunchy but not rubbery, and the tomato dipping sauce had just the right balance of acidity and sweetness.
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. "You're eating like you haven't had food for two days."
"I'm hungry. Don't piss in my cornflakes," I shot back, grinning.
Oliver almost spat out his sip of wine, coughing a few times. "What did you just say?"
"Don't piss in my cornflakes. You’ve never heard it before?" I asked.
"No. I must be out of the loop."
"Well, you are old," I teased, my eyes twinkling.
He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm sure there are plenty of young men who can't do what I do in bed. There's something to be said for experience."
I laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melting away. “Oh, is that what you call it?” I smirked before I took another bite of pizza.
“Would you prefer someone younger with less experience?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe I could find someone my age with the same experience as you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Would you want to?”
I shook my head. “No. I found my prince.”
“So, I’m a prince and not an old king.”
“A little of both but it doesn’t matter to me because you’re special.”
Oliver leaned over and kissed me on the lips, leaving me with the taste of the red wine he was drinking. I took another large bite of my pizza before setting it down, feeling satisfyingly full.
"Finally done?" he teased, eyeing my half-eaten slice.
"I think two slices is plenty. You ate quite a bit yourself," I replied, gesturing to the large pizza that now had only three slices left.
"I was hungry too. Our little tiff spurned on my appetite."
"Just our tiff and not the sex we had?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That too," he admitted with a grin. "I'm getting up early tomorrow to work out. Do you want to join me?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I decided this week is a wash. I'll be lazy for another couple of days and then get back on the wagon."
His eyes twinkled. "Does that mean you'll be sleeping late?"
"Probably. We don't need to meet Finley and Sadie until noon."
"I placed an order for a cake."
I pressed a kiss to his temple. "You're sweet."
"It's not every day someone gets engaged."
"I'm sure most people hope it's the last time they get engaged."
"I hope you enjoyed your engagement because it's the last time you're getting engaged," he said, a playful but possessive glint in his eyes.
"Possessive asshole," I muttered, though I couldn't help but smile.
"I'm not possessive, I'm straightforward. You're not leaving me at any time during our marriage."
"Oliver, you can't predict the future."
"I can predict the future, and you're not leaving me. Promise me, Ryleigh."
His face grew serious, his sapphire eyes pleading with me. I sighed, feeling the weight of his gaze.
"I promise," I said softly.
He relaxed, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "What do you want to do tonight?"
"I already said I was being lazy."
"Does that mean I'll be forced to watch those horrible shows you like?" Oliver asked.
"It's part of a relationship. You don't always watch what I want to watch."
"I watch the news to keep up on what's going on in the world. Let’s clean up. I have a couple of emails to answer and I’ll meet you in the bedroom"
He stood up, gathering the plates and leftovers. I watched him for a moment, appreciating the way he moved with purpose, even in the small act of cleaning up. He headed to his office, quickly answering his emails that couldn't wait.
When he entered the bedroom, I was already lounging on the bed, remote in hand. He climbed in beside me and I snuggled into his warmth as he wrapped an arm around me.
"Ready for some terrible TV?" I asked, grinning.
"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied, kissing the top of my head.
We settled in, the comfort of routine wrapping around us like a warm blanket. Despite the chaos and interruptions of the day, moments like this made everything worthwhile.
After a lazy night of kissing and watching television, I slept until almost 9 a.m. in the morning when Oliver slipped back into the bedroom from his workout.
Oliver pulled off his white sweatshirt, damp with sweat, revealing a gray t-shirt clinging to his muscular torso. I watched, yawning loudly as he disrobed.
"Where did you go?" I asked, stretching out on the bed.
"Downstairs. It’s chilly out today," he replied, ruffling his damp hair.
I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. "I hate winter."
"Then you’ll like my surprise," he said with a playful grin.
"What surprise?"
Another surprise. He was making me insane with surprise.
"We’re heading to Fox Island on Monday for a few days."
"We’re staying there?" I asked, my interest piqued.
"For a day or two. I want to see the progress and check on Jonah. He’s been behaving himself."
"I hope so. He’s caused enough headaches."
"There was a delay with some of the materials, so the schedule is a little off," he admitted, slipping out of his red sweatpants.
"Off enough to make us go somewhere else for our honeymoon?"
I hoped not. I’d been anticipating a stay on our own island without the interference of cameras in our face and prying eyes. I wanted to be just us to explore not only the island but each other.
"No. The schedule was set for the beginning of June, so a few days here and there won’t disrupt our honeymoon."
"Where are we staying?" I asked.
"More than likely St. Croix, unless you want to bunk with the construction crews."
Oliver continued stripping, leaving him in a pair of boxers which he shoved down his hips. My eyes traveled over his body, distracting me from our discussion for just a moment.
"I thought you were housing me in a grass hut on the beach," I teased, eyeing his now naked form.
"Would you like that?"
"I don’t mind roughing it. Could you stand it?"
"I can stand anything you can," he said confidently.
I watched him for a few moments longer, appreciating his form and knowing it wouldn't take much for him to become aroused. "Can I shower with you?"
"We have time," he said, a glint in his eye.
"We have three hours to shower. I doubt we’ll be in there that long."
"I misunderstood," he said with a smirk.
"Oh, you mean you thought I meant sex?" I grinned.
"Didn’t you?"
"No. Stop putting words in my mouth and head."
Oliver scooped up his clothing, dropping it into the hamper in the closet before padding naked into the bathroom. As soon as I heard the shower turn on, I got up and stripped. I slipped in behind him, hugging his body and pressing my face against his back as rivulets of soap rolled down him.
"I thought we weren’t having sex?" he said, his voice a low rumble.
"Can't I hug you?" I replied, feeling the heat of his skin against mine.
"I’d rather do something else. All I could think of was you as I worked out," he confessed, turning to face me, his eyes dark with desire.
"Then take me," I whispered, meeting his gaze.
With a low growl, Oliver pulled me close, our bodies melding together under the hot spray. The water cascaded over us, washing away the world outside as we lost ourselves in each other.
The room Oliver rented at Diamond Square was spacious, almost too big for just the four of us, but I didn't complain. Soft lighting illuminated the elegant space, casting a warm glow over the large round dark wood table and the four matching cushioned chairs arranged around it. Finley and Sadie arrived a few minutes after us, led into the room by a waiter dressed impeccably in black slacks and a crisp dress shirt.
My gaze immediately fell on the hand Sadie had wrapped around my brother's arm, and my heart swelled with joy as I caught sight of the ring he had given her the night before. The large round diamond with its halo of smaller stones sparkled under the soft light, a testament to their love. I couldn't contain my excitement as I stood up to hug them both.
Sadie looked radiant in a burgundy long-sleeved jersey dress, while Finley appeared dashing in light slacks, a tweed sports jacket, and a matching burgundy tie. It was clear that Sadie was taming him from his usual torn jeans and rock and roll t-shirts.
"We're engaged," Sadie announced, holding out her hand with a dazzling smile. I squealed with delight and enveloped her in another hug, feeling elated. My brother playfully pressed his hands to his ears and shook his head.
"I can’t believe you’re going to be my sister," I exclaimed, beaming at them both.
Finley and Oliver chuckled as we hugged, their conversation turning to business while Sadie and I excitedly discussed our plans for the future. A waiter soon arrived with a bottle of Dom Perignon, prompting us to raise our glasses in a toast to the happy couple, the clinking of glasses breaking up our chatter.
"So, when are you two thinking of getting married?" Oliver inquired, his curiosity evident.
"Not sure. I still have a few big projects coming up," Finley replied thoughtfully.
"Sadie, when do you want to get married? Because if you wait for my brother to make up his mind, it will be five years from now," I teased, earning a playful glare from Finley.
"I resent that," he retorted, though his eyes twinkled with amusement.
"It’s true, dear brother. You get involved with things and lose yourself in them," I persisted, smirking.
"Still see that Oliver hasn’t tamed that sharp tongue of yours," Finley remarked, turning to Oliver with a grin.
"That is impossible. Ryleigh is her own woman," Oliver replied, his voice filled with pride.
"That she is," Finley agreed, reaching over to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.
"I’m starving, can we go eat?" I interjected, eager to continue celebrating.
"Sure. Let’s go," Finley replied, leading the way out of the room with Sadie on his arm, and Oliver and I following close behind. As we made our way to the restaurant, I couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for my brother and his soon-to-be wife, grateful to share in their joyous moment.