Little Did You Know

Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

T he steering wheel's leather creaked under my grip as I turned into the driveway. Three times, I'd rehearsed this conversation on the drive home, and three times, the words had tangled themselves into knots. My chest tightened at the sight of the porch light as I slid the car into park and stared at the front door. Each evening, it felt more like coming home to something, and that thought alone made my pulse skip. I needed to set boundaries before they disappeared entirely, but the very idea of pushing her away made my stomach twist with an unfamiliar ache.

Strolling into the kitchen, I expected to see Olivia. Instead, Arlena stood at the counter.

"Good evening, Mr. Pearson." Arlena wiped her hands on her apron, her usual reserve softening at the edges.

I eyed the untouched plates on the counter. "Good evening. Has Olivia eaten?"

"Dinner, no. However, she did help me prepare the food for Saturday, and I think she ate more than she made."

"I'm sorry, Arlena. She won't be here long. Only until a dorm room opens at the college."

Arlena paused in her methodical wiping of the counter, her cloth freezing mid-circle. "Why are you sorry?"

"I know you don't like people in your kitchen, especially when you are cooking."

I gestured at the kitchen, where evidence of Olivia and Arlena's shared cooking session still lingered—a dusting of flour on the counter, measuring cups drying by the sink, the lingering scent of vanilla.

"You know, Mr. Pearson, for such a smart man, you can be stupid sometimes." Arlena's hands never stopped moving as she arranged dishes, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

I gripped the edge of the counter. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me correctly." She lined up the spice jars with military precision. "It's not that I don't like people in my kitchen. I don't like the snobby trash you bring home in my kitchen."

The wooden spoon I'd been fidgeting with clattered to the counter.

My mouth dropped. "Those women treat me like I'm a slave. I'm no one's slave, not even yours. You've always treated me with respect. Those girls don't, and that's why I don't want them in this kitchen or your house. But Olivia, she's a breath of fresh air. She talks to me like I'm a real person. She expects nothing from me, a friendship. I like her very much, and she is welcome in this kitchen with me any time."

I smiled. "Where is she?"

Arlena's wooden spoon gestured toward the French doors. "She's out on the patio."

"Thanks."

The clinking of dishes followed me as I headed for the door. Arlena's voice caught me at the threshold. "Should I bring dinner out to you on the patio?"

I glanced at the clock—nearly nine. "No, put it up for the night and go home." The kitchen light cast my shadow long across the floor. "You're already here late." I paused, remembering what she said about preparing food for Saturday. I had no idea what Saturday she would have to prepare food for. "Arlena?"

"Yes."

"What's Saturday?"

"It's your annual Labor Day Party." Fuck, I forgot all about that. I threw a huge party every year; I didn't know how I could have forgotten. Throwing that to the side for now, I headed outside to find Olivia.

She was exactly where Arlena said she’d be. Moonlight painted silver edges along her silhouette as she turned another page of her book, oblivious to my presence. Her bare feet were tucked beneath her, one ankle exposed where her skirt had risen slightly. A breeze stirred loose strands of dark hair across her collarbone, and my fingers twitched with the urge to brush them back. The space between us crackled with the same electric tension as the approaching storm.

I didn't want to ruin the night—didn't want to watch her easy smile fade into something guarded and distant. But the weight of unspoken words sat heavy in my chest, pressing against my ribs with each breath. We had to lay our cards on the table, or someone would get hurt. Kathryn's words echoed in my head. Now or never, I told myself, before I could talk myself out of it again. Before I could convince myself that one more night of pretending wouldn't hurt.

I'd watched her stare at the same page for five minutes, her finger tracing the edge of the paper in an unconscious rhythm that drew my attention more than it should. "Good book?" The words came out lower than intended as I approached her, my shadow falling across the pages she wasn't really reading.

Her blue eyes met mine, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary before dropping back to her book. The smile that curved her lips wasn't her usual bright greeting, but something softer, more tentative. Something that made my pulse skip.

"It's alright," she murmured, shifting slightly as I settled at the end of her deck chair. The casual movement closed the distance between us by mere inches, yet the space suddenly felt charged with possibility. "Did you just get home?"

"Yeah, I had some business to catch up on."

"You're a busy man." Her voice held a note I couldn't quite read. She traced the spine of her book with one finger, not meeting my eyes. The casual gesture shouldn't have been distracting, but I found myself following the slow path of her fingertip. "Is something wrong?"

"I was hoping we could talk." I turned to gauge her reaction, watching as she stilled completely, like a deer catching a hunter's scent. Her expression remained neutral, but I caught the quick dart of her tongue across her lower lip, the slight hitch in her breathing that betrayed her composure.

"Nick, if this is about earlier today, don't worry about it." Olivia's fingers played with the corner of her book page, creasing and uncreasing the edge.

I shifted on the deck chair, the wood creaking beneath me. "It's not only about earlier today. It's about everything."

Olivia marked her place with care. "Okay, then we can talk."

The patio suddenly felt too confining. "Do you want to take a walk?"

Her eyes drifted to the gathering darkness beyond the porch lights. "It's kind of dark, isn't it?"

I gestured toward the stone pathway, where landscape lights cast pools of warm light. "There's a lighted path down to the lake. We can walk that if you want."

Olivia slipped her bare feet into her sandals, the book abandoned on the chair. "Okay."

Crickets serenaded our slow stroll to the lake, each step measured, neither of us willing to break the silence that had settled between us. The path seemed endless, every brush of shoulders accidental yet inevitable.

Olivia stopped at the water's edge, her breath catching. "Wow." Her eyes followed the path of moonlight across the dark water, but I found myself studying how the breeze played with loose strands of her hair, how her fingers trembled slightly as she tucked them behind her ear.

I guided us onto the weathered planks, testing each step. "Yeah, I bought it about two years ago."

At the dock's end, she turned to face me, one hand trailing along the smooth railing as she leaned back. "What did you want to talk about?"

The distant rumble of thunder matched my pulse. Well, here goes nothing.

I cleared my throat as I shifted to face her. "You know that I'm attracted to you." My hands gripped the dock railing, knuckles white against the weathered wood.

She nodded, moonlight catching the curve of her throat.

I paced the length of the dock, my shoes hollow against the wooden planks. "And I'm assuming you're attracted to me."

“I am.”

"After this morning..." The night air felt electric against my skin. Each breath between us felt charged, dangerous. "I realized something today." I moved closer, close enough to catch the subtle hitch in her breathing, to see how her fingers tightened on the railing. "I don't think I can keep my hands off you anymore. I don’t want to keep my hands to myself." The confession hung in the air between us, making her pupils dilate slightly. "And if we can come to some type of agreement..." I let my voice trail off, watching how she swayed unconsciously toward me.

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself, the evening breeze lifting strands of her hair. "What kind of agreement?"

"I want to figure out our rules and limitations."

"I don't have any rules."

"You might not right now, but later that may change." My hands gripped the railing, knuckles white against the weathered wood.

Olivia stepped back, putting space between us. "Nick, you're confusing me."

I moved closer, drawn to her. The space between us crackled with possibilities, each breath bringing her scent. "I'm sorry, this is new to me too." The confession rasped in my throat, more vulnerable than intended.

Her brow furrowed as she studied my face in the moonlight, and I fought the urge to smooth the crease with my thumb. The dock railing pressed against her back, leaving her nowhere to retreat as I unconsciously leaned closer. "What do you mean?" Her voice held a tremor that matched the slight shake in her hands, and I wondered if she could hear how my heart hammered against my ribs.

"Usually, I have a list of the rules, and if she breaks them, she's gone, but that's not going to work with you. You live in my house, and that breaks all the rules, and you'll always be a part of my life regardless of what rules you break." She started looking away from me, but I grabbed her chin, pulling her gaze back. "I want to forget about the rules. If we come upon something that makes one of us uncomfortable, then we'll be honest about it; otherwise, we do what we want."

"No rules?"

"Not exactly rules, but there are a few things I need you to know and understand."

"Okay?"

"This is not a relationship. You are not my girlfriend, and you never will be. I have no interest in ever settling down. Also, you are free to date whomever you like, as am I. In the event jealousy or any feelings get involved, this ends immediately. Can you agree to that?" She moved out of my grip and walked to the other side of the dock. She was so quiet, and I couldn't judge her facial expressions because she'd turned away from me. "Why don't you take some time to think about it?"

She turned around to face me and began strolling toward me. "So, no relationship. Friends, and I can still see other guys?"

"Yes, but if you are intimate with someone, I expect you to use a condom, and I'll do the same."

"Fair enough." she was still moving toward me. She looked so fucking sexy. It was taking every ounce of control to keep from kissing her, touching her, fucking her, but I couldn't not until she agreed. "Alright, I agree."

As soon as I heard the words, it was all over. It was close to an attack; I had her pinned against the dock railing, devouring her mouth before she had a chance to think about it as the rain began to trickle down.

My hands mapped the curves of her body with a desperation that set my body on fire, each curve and hollow a discovery that made my breath catch. She melted against me, every small sound she made driving me closer to the edge of control. The heat of her skin burned through the damp fabric between us.

Time stretched, marked only by the thunder of my pulse and the soft, needy sounds catching in her throat. The storm around us faded to background noise, insignificant compared to the hurricane building between us with each shared breath.

Her hands tugged at my shirt while her mouth stayed firmly against mine as our tongues competed for submission. Without releasing her, I ran my hands up her legs and under her skirt, feeling the softness of her skin until I reached the lace of her panties. I twisted the thin material in my fist, and with one hard jerk, the panties were gone. My mouth roamed her jawline, neck, and down the lines of the low-cut shirt she wore while my free hand frantically undid my belt.

Shoving my pants and boxers down, I freed my cock. I wanted to slow down, savor this moment, the feeling of her but I couldn't. I needed her like I needed air to breath. The tip of my cock nudged her entrance, and she pleaded with the sound of her moans. Every sound she made pulled at another thread of my control. I slowly slipped my wide head inside her, and stilled when she sucked in a harsh breath and held it. Her fingers curled into my shoulders. I had to remind myself she was still a virgin.

“Breathe, Olivia.” She slowly released her breath. “You have to keep breathing.”

“More.” she whimpered.

She inhaled and I slipped deeper inside her inch by painstaking inch pausing each time to allow her time to adjust to me, until I was buried deep inside her. Our gazes locked as I held myself deep. Our bodies fit perfectly together, like we were made for each other. The heat of her pussy swallowed me whole and when she rocked her hips against me, I lost the last thread of control I had.

On a strangled groan, I withdrew before pushing back in this time, not pausing before withdrawing again. Her head fell back with her fingers clasped around my neck and my mouth assaulted her throat as her pussy squeezed me.

I wanted to slow down, I wanted to keep control, but I was lost in her. “Fuck,” I groaned my hips snapping against hers. Rain and sweat slicked our skin and our breathing accelerated as I ground myself deep inside her.

My speed increased and the sound of our hips slapping together echoed over the rain fall. Her eyes fluttered closed and her forehead dropped to mine. Our heated breaths mingled in the electric air between us.

“Nick,” she cried out as her fingers dug into my shirt, and her entire body vibrated against me. I moved faster and harder and took her mouth with mine; her nails dug deeper as she found her peak, and with one more thrust, I followed her on the high.

My head collapsed on her chest, and, still inside her, I felt her shudder.

The rain was coming down harder now, and I wasn't sure if the convulsion was out of pleasure or if she was cold. I released her, allowing her legs to fall to the ground slowly. She smiled shyly at me.

I studied her face in the darkness, searching for signs of discomfort. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." A slow smile spread across her lips, dreamy and satisfied. "I'm better than okay."

Lightning split the sky. Thunder cracked like a whip, and she crashed against my chest, fingers digging into my arms. The storm had found us.

"Come on." I pressed my lips to her ear, my words barely carrying over the percussion of rain on dock planks. The house was too far, the lightning too close.

The boathouse waited, dark and solid against the tempest. I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward safety, fumbling with the side door until it gave way beneath my palm.

We couldn't make it back to the house with the lightning like it was, so I grabbed her hand and led her to the boathouse.

I opened the side door and led her in with me.

"What is this place?" Olivia's voice echoed against the wooden walls, stirring dust motes in the filtered moonlight.

I ran my hand along the smooth cedar planks, remembering their former roughness. "It came with the land. Just an old boathouse back then. All weathered cedar and rusted hinges." I gripped the handles of the sliding doors, their brass cool against my palms. With a push, they glided apart, revealing the lake beyond. The sound changed instantly—from enclosed quiet to the open symphony of water lapping against the dock pylons.

Olivia picked her way across the shadowed floor. "Does it have electricity?"

A crack of lightning illuminated the space through the windows. "Yes, but the power's out." I moved to the large doors, feeling the storm's electricity humming in the brass handles. "The moon will give us enough light."

She shivered. "Is there something to dry off with?"

Olivia stood in front of the large opening, watching the rain come down and the lightning dance across the skies. I found some towels that were stashed away and then found some blankets and lawn pillows to lay on the hard ground. I laid them out far enough back that the rain couldn't reach us through the open doors.

"It's coming down now." I walked up behind her with the towels. She turned to look up at me. Soaking wet, she was the prettiest woman I'd ever seen. "We should get you out of these wet clothes before you get sick." She smiled and began unbuttoning my shirt. I wanted her badly again, but I didn't feel the same urgency I felt a few minutes ago. This time, I wanted to take my time, even if that meant all night.

Once my shirt was unbuttoned, she removed it slowly, very slowly, letting her hands run over my skin as it came off. She had no idea what she was doing to me, and if I didn't take control soon, this would be over before it started. She ran her cold, wet hand down my abs, feeling each crease as she went, but I stopped her before she got to my belt. It was my turn.

As slowly as she removed my shirt, I pulled off her shirt, bra, and skirt. Then I scooped her up into my arms, carried her over to the blankets, laid her down on them, and then removed my clothes.

She didn't shy away from my gaze; instead, she held it with a quiet confidence. Every subtle shift of her body drew my attention—the way her breath quickened when I moved closer, the sensual curve of her mouth as her tongue swept over her full lips, the flutter of her pulse visible at her throat.

The desire for Olivia hit differently than anything I'd known before—not just a physical pull but something that hooked beneath my ribs and tugged. My carefully constructed walls, the ones that had kept everyone at a safe distance for years, seemed to crumble under her touch.

I moved over her, pinning her underneath me before my mouth came crashing down hard onto hers, enveloping her in a hot, violent, possessive kiss that left her submissive beneath me. She released a loud moan into me as my hands began to explore her body.

Releasing her mouth, she gasped for air, and I trailed kisses down her neck before moving slowly down, kissing and nipping at her skin as I went. She was perfect; everything about her was perfect, and I wanted to taste every part of her.

I wasn't sure I could take much more. As she squirmed beneath me, I ran my fingers down her stomach and straight to her core. My hand moved slowly as she arched into me with every move. Entering her already wet warmth, she rocked against my hand. I moved fast, and she met my rhythm until she cried out in satisfaction.

"Please, Nick." My name fell from her lips like a prayer, half-breath and half-plea. The sound shot straight through me, dangerous and addictive. Her fingers traced restless patterns across my shoulders, each touch leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Please, what?" I murmured against the racing pulse in her throat. The question came out rougher than intended, betraying how close I was to losing control. I needed to hear her say it, needed the words as much as I needed air. Her body arched into mine, answering without words, but still, I waited, suspended in this moment of exquisite tension.

"Nick." My name emerged as a breath against my skin, her fingers tracing patterns of wanting across my shoulders. Time stretched like honey, sweet and slow. Each heartbeat pressed us closer to inevitability.

I followed the delicate line of her jaw with my lips, drawing out the moment until anticipation trembled between us like a plucked string. "Say it, Olivia."

"Fuck me?" Her hips arched up against mine, the question transforming into invitation.

My control snapped. That was all I needed to hear. My mouth enveloped hers as I positioned myself at her entrance. "Please," she pleaded again, and I slowly entered her.

She felt amazing, and the fact that I was the only man ever to touch her drove me mad. Sliding in and out slowly, she matched my rhythm until we were riding together in sync. Her moans got louder, and I matched a low growl with every one of her moans. She shook as she screamed out my name, and with a few more fast thrusts, I found my satisfaction. My body went limp with pure bliss on top of hers. I knew I was crushing her, but I couldn't move immediately. I knew she was still breathing because I could feel every heavy breath she took underneath me. When I finally had enough energy, I rolled off her, falling flat on my back beside her.

"You okay?" I panted.

"Uh-huh," she breathed. I smiled.

It took a few minutes before either of us could speak complete sentences.

Olivia pushed up on one elbow, the blanket clutched to her chest as she watched raindrops fall. "It's still raining. How long are we going to stay here?"

"Until it stops storming." My fingers found the dimple at the base of her spine. "It will be over soon."

I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down on the blanket with me. "Come here." She curled into me, and we were asleep before either of us could say anything else.

I woke as the sun was rising to find myself tangled together with Olivia. My thoughts went back to the events of last night, and I realized it hadn't been a dream. It had been a long time since I'd spent the night with a woman and longer since I'd held her all night, if ever. She was curled into me, completely naked. I wanted so badly to wake her and do it all over again. But she had to be at work soon, and I had a plane to catch. I couldn't bring myself to wake her. It was the first time in a long time I slept through the night and the first time since she'd been here that she hadn't woken with a nightmare. Instead, I watched her sleep.

She didn't sleep much longer before she started to stir.

"Good morning." I traced the curve of her shoulder.

"Good morning." Her eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. "What time is it?"

My fingers found the dimple at the base of her spine. "Around seven."

She bolted upright, the blanket clutched to her chest, all traces of drowsiness gone. "Oh my god. I have to get ready for work."

I reached for her waist, trying to draw her back down. "It's okay." My thumb circled against her skin. "I'm the boss."

She gathered her damp clothes from the floor, her movements sharp. "Nick. I don't want it to be like that." The fabric twisted in her hands. "I don't want special treatment because I'm sleeping with you."

I leaned against the doorframe, watching the morning light paint shadows across her skin. "You'd get special treatment if you weren't sleeping with me."

She spun to face me, wet clothes clutched to her chest, eyes narrowed to amber slits in the dawn light.

"My clothes are still wet." She lifted the damp clothes off the ground.

"Wrap yourself in one of the towels, and we'll head to the house." I got up and grabbed a towel.

"You want me to walk around outside naked?" She sounded mortified.

"No, I want you to walk in the privacy of my yard to my house in a towel, not naked."

"Nick."

“It's early. No one is here yet except maybe Arlena, and she has a way of making herself scarce. We need to hurry, though."

"Alright," she agreed reluctantly as she wrapped the towel around her.

We made it to the house and upstairs without anyone noticing anything. At the top, I grabbed her around the waist, pulled her hard against me, and kissed her so passionately that she would be reeling from it all day.

"I have to go out of town today," I managed, watching how her lips remained slightly parted, still bearing the imprint of our kiss. The sight made it hard to remember my next words. "I probably won't be back until after dark."

"Oh." The word came out breathless, slightly dazed. A flush had crept up her neck to stain her cheeks, and her fingers still gripped the edge of my shirt, as if she couldn't quite bring herself to let go. Her other hand rose unconsciously to touch her lips, the gesture so innocently sensual it made my chest tight.

My fingers traced the edge of her towel. "Will I see you tonight?"

"I'll wait for you." Her eyes met mine, steady and clear, no hesitation in her voice.

Heat pooled in my chest.

We separated to go to our rooms to get ready for our day. Olivia was all over my mind, but I needed to get it together to deal with Emmett.