25. The Worst Mistake
Chapter twenty-five
The Worst Mistake
Maria
Two weeks later...
So much for trying to make things better between Ed and me. Despite our talk at the hospital weeks ago smoothing things over, he just had to open his mouth and insert his foot again. I was all ready to let bygones be bygones and move forward from this.
Turns out he wasn’t.
I hadn’t had the heart to tell him at the time why I’d been leaving right after he arrived home. But after the way he reacted, I don’t want to tell him and I no longer have to feel guilty about it.
“I know I keep making the drive out here to see you. It’s only fair that you pay me the same courtesy.” Oliver leans in and toasts his glass against mine, our plates empty of the fancy meals we ordered for ourselves.
“What, you want me to pay for a cab out there to see you?”
Oliver leans back, looking surprised.
“You don’t have a driver’s license?”
“I do,” I roll my eyes. “I just can’t remember the last time I drove. When you work for a family that makes it easy for you to do your job without having to leave the house, it’s a skill that kind of gets put to the wayside.”
“I’d be happy to show you sometime.” He curls an arm around my shoulder and kisses me, sweetly and soft. “I can take you on some backroads so that we don’t hit anyone.”
“Oh? Is that all we’re going to do on the backroads?”
Oliver’s face flushes a hot red and my pride swells at the sight of it. I guess I still have some of the old touch after all.
“Maria Bailey. That’s quite forward of you,” he teases. “From someone with your modicum and poise? I’m shocked. Shocked and appalled.”
“It might not be a bad idea to discipline me for my bad behavior,” I lean in to whisper in his ear, my fingers teasing at the button of his shirt.
“You keep this up, and we’re about to give the other patrons of this restaurant a show they should pay money for.”
“Go get the car warmed up. I just need to use the ladies’ room.”
Oliver leaps out of his seat and slaps his credit card on the maitre d’s dais before darting out of the restaurant. Watching him prance along like a giddy schoolboy brings a smile to my face.
After using the toilet, I appreciate my reflection as I wash my hands. It’s been a while since I’ve put on makeup this daring, but I can’t complain about how it makes me look. It’s certainly boosted my confidence tonight if anything.
This is perfectly normal. This is what a relationship is supposed to look like.
Oliver and I have been dating for a few weeks now, seeing each other about four days a week when Edward is home with Alex.
I don’t know why I haven’t shared this with him, maybe because I don’t want to make things weird between us again.
On the other hand, is this really any of his business?
If I get my job done and he’s satisfied with my work, why should he know what I do in my spare time?
Which made his offer of being a live-in nanny even more difficult to consider. It would save me time, but it would give me less freedom to do this.
Getting reacquainted with Oliver was awkward at first, but it was like slipping back into old habits.
He’s very easy to talk to, and with his connections to the restaurant world, he’s been able to get us into places that are definitely outside my budget.
His job as a sommelier has opened my eyes to other kinds of wines and spirits I’ve never tried before.
It pays pretty well, too. Hence, the date tonight.
I bite my lip when I adjust my dress against my body. I think this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually felt sexy.
Heat washes over my skin as I gather up my things and hurry out to meet Oliver in his car. The maitre d’ stops me along the way and hands me the credit card with a receipt. I hastily throw a hefty tip onto their copy and frolic out the door.
Oliver is already parked by the curb and throws the door open. I clamber in—the seat is already warm—and buckle up my seatbelt. He turns up the radio, where a sultry female jazz singer is crooning her heart out to a steely trombone.
Our hands clamber all over each other during the drive.
Thankfully, his hotel isn’t far from the restaurant so the wait to our destination isn’t very long.
As soon as he hands the keys to the valet, he grabs my hand and sprints towards the elevators.
I giggle the whole way, trying my best to keep up with him in these awful shoes.
I eventually stop to pull them off so that it’s easier to run.
We devolve into a duo of raucous laughter once the elevator doors close as he pins me in the corner of the small gilded box ascending the concrete shaft.
“I like it when you talk naughty,” he whispers against my lips before he starts nibbling on them.
“I can do it more often if it gets you this riled up.” I meet his gaze and press my hand to the seam of his pants. I gasp softly when I feel how hard he already is. He winces slightly and adjusts himself, looking a little embarrassed.
“I was trying to keep that a surprise.”
“And I’ve gone and ruined it. Oh well, maybe I should go home, then. No reason to be here anymore.”
He fakes anger and presses my palm deeper against his crotch.
“Don’t you dare. You wouldn’t leave me like this?”
“Wouldn’t I? What’s wrong with taking matters into your own hands?”
“I would prefer if they were taken into yours.”
We bolt apart as soon as the elevator dings and the doors open, not wanting to get caught in the middle of an almost-lewd act.
More chuckles and guffaws. When we realize no one’s getting in, Oliver grabs my hand again and we book it down the hallway, hopefully towards his room. He grins maniacally as he fumbles for his keycard, eventually finding it in his jacket pocket and sliding it into the card reader.
Beep. Ka-thunk!
He grabs me by the shoulders and plants a hard kiss on my mouth, pulling me into the room with him. Delight washes over me and I kick the door closed behind me, glad that we finally have some privacy where we can let loose.
And let loose we do. Our hands scramble to get our clothes off, our lips barely parting just enough to see what we’re doing. Oliver chooses to leave my panties on as he scoops me up in his arms and falls onto the large king-size with me.
“Gotcha,” he whispers, his face surrounded by plush white comforters and pillows.
“You have for a while now.”
I feel safe here. Recognized. Wanted.
“This is different.” He rolls himself onto his side and perches himself above me, his neck and chest turning red.
“How so?”
“I don’t know. It just feels... special.” There’s a twinkle in his eye. “You’re special.”
My heart stutters in my chest and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Every inch of my body longs for him, for his touch, for our bodies to meet and never separate.
This kiss is yearning but soft, our tongues tracing each other’s forms like they’re old friends. He groans softly into my mouth as he plants one hand against the headboard and the other on my hip. His thumb tucks expertly beneath the string of my French-cut underwear and drags it down.
He’s saving the best for last.
“Touch me,” I groan against his lips. My body arches up to him, my center flushed and hot, ready for him.
“Here?” He rests the flat of his palm against my mound and thumbs my wet, swollen nub. I hiss an inhale and my brows instantly furrow.
Yes. Just like that. Do it again.
I must have pleaded with my gaze because he does, slower this time so that I can ride out every inch of his textured digit.
Oliver works at a set rhythm as soon as my hips start going, meeting me in the middle so that there’s always some kind of friction. He sits back on his haunches and watches me, his free hand circling his shaft so that he can pleasure himself in the meantime.
“You like to watch?” I ask between gasps for air. The sight of him like this drives me wild.
“I like to watch you. Fuck, you’re sexy.”
I bite my lip and start fondling my breast for him. If he’s going to watch, I might as well give him a show.
His fist starts to work faster, and his thumb is soon replaced with more fingers as I spread my legs wider for him.
But there’s only so much either of us can do before this feels like not enough.
He grabs my hips and drags me down the bed towards him, the head of his shaft slipping in so easily that I don’t recognize what’s going on until he’s almost balls deep within me.
We sigh together, letting our bodies adjust to this new sensation.
“Oh my God, you feel good.”
“You too.”
He hoists my legs a little higher until my rear is no longer touching the bed, increasing the angle of his penetration until I feel his head against my cervix. The sensation sends shivers up my spine and it takes everything I have not to come right now.
Oliver’s slow at first, teasing me with his slow thrusts to see what I like. I prop myself up on my elbows so that I can watch him work, so I can see his length disappearing inside me and the faint bulge in my lower stomach that results.
It’s not long before our thighs are slapping together, the sweat making us stick together with each strike of our bodies against each other.
My whole body jostles with each of his thrusts until I almost bang my head against the headboard.
One of them hits just the right spot and I feel the heat rising in my body.
My hand joins him between my legs, playing with my clit to heighten the pleasure.
More. I want more of it. My slick fluids make it easy to manipulate the flesh hidden between my folds.
One soft keen spells my end; Oliver must have heard it too because he makes note of it and intensifies himself within me.
“Fuck!”
My entire body is filled with electricity as the first orgasm hits. Everything in my vision goes white for a split second as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes against me.
“Why did you stop?” I beg, realizing that Oliver’s no longer moving inside me. He mutters a quick “sorry” before he starts again, though at a much gentler pace.