14. Brett
Brett
I don’t know who moved first. Maybe it was me, or perhaps it was her. But our lips crashed into each other. In mere seconds, she stole my breath and thoughts. Breathlessly, we pulled apart to stare at each other.
For a second, she stayed frozen, caught between wanting to push me away and wanting to pull me closer. Then she grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me down into a kiss, which was everything we had never said out loud.
Heat. Frustration. Need.
I groaned against her lips, gripping her hips and pulling her flush against me. Logic told me to slow down, think, and be careful. But logic had never held up against Olivia. She was a force of nature, and I was already too far gone.
“Tell me to stop,” I sighed against her mouth—a challenge.
She exhaled, her fingers curling tighter in my shirt. “No.”
That was all I needed. After I took her clothes off and threw them, I lifted her effortlessly, then carried her naked body to the couch.
We tumbled down together, a mess of tangled limbs, hands tracing paths we had no business retracing.
I kissed my way down her neck, savoring the way she arched against me, the way she gasped when my teeth scraped her skin.
It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t careful. It was years of frustration, longing, and what-the-hell-are-we-doing crashing into one moment.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, and mine grabbed her perky breasts.
Nothing existed except Olivia—her mouth on mine, the press of her curves against my body.
She had a way of making me unravel and come back together all at once.
I gathered her nipple in my mouth, kneading it with my tongue until she groaned.
She undid my shirt, and I flung it off. Then, I reached down and undid my zipper.
After I shed my pants, she sat up and fondled me with her hands and mouth while I watched.
When she stood up in front of me, I was a mess of sexual desire.
I caught her mouth as I smoothed my hands under her ass to lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. Her hands fisted my hair when I backed her up against a wall. I drove inside her, unable to wait a second longer.
Our eyes met, and neither of us spoke. So many emotions transferred between us as I rocked her into a rhythm that kept time with our heartbeats.
“Brett,” she murmured as her eyes closed.
“Shh,” I told her as my lips collected hers. I stood still, throbbing and unable to move, or I would surely fill her up long before I wanted to. I worked on kissing her while I tried to calm my body down.
“I want you, Brett,” she said as she deepened the kiss and gyrated her hips slowly and purposefully.
My fingers dug into her waist, “Slow down.”
“No,” she said as she pouted.
“You’re going to undo me.”
“Good, I want to feel you deep inside.”
I thrust deeper, and she gyrated harder and faster.
“I can’t, Olivia. Shit.” I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, trying hard to slow things down.
“Brett, I’m going to cum,” Olivia cried out as she looked up at the ceiling, then closed her eyes. I watched her face reach sexual bliss while we united in her hot, wet center.
She shivered and tightened her legs around my waist, and I could feel her squeeze my erection just as I burst.
“Olivia! Oh, my sweet God, Olivia!” I felt my eyes roll back as I jerked and pulsed so deep. I carried her to our makeshift bed by the fire and lowered her down. Her eyelids were heavy, and I think she was asleep even before I lay beside her and curled her against me.
After the fire had burned lower, I lay with her tangled against me, her warmth settling into mine.
My arm rested lazily around her waist, my fingers drawing slow circles against her hip.
She let out a breath, and her eyes popped open.
She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes.
I figured she was trying to collect her thoughts and decide how to get out of this one. I wasn’t wrong.
“This was a mistake,” she said slowly.
I hummed, unconvinced. “You’re going to have to be much more convincing than that.” My words had a hard edge because I knew she would try this.
She turned her head to glare at me. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I met her gaze, steady and firm. “Why does it have to be a mistake?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, the hesitation unmistakable. I saw the battle in her eyes—the part of her that wanted to trust me warring against the part that had spent too long guarding herself.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting my touch be gentle. “You don’t have to run this time, Olivia.”
She shivered just slightly. I felt it, even if she didn’t acknowledge it. She wanted to fight me on this, to build her walls back up. But she didn’t move away. She didn’t push me out.
Instead, she exhaled slowly and rested her head against my chest.
“Don’t let this go to your head,” she said quietly.
I chuckled, pressing a teasing kiss to her forehead. “Too late.”
She rolled her eyes, but her body relaxed against mine, and her breathing slowed, the tension bleeding from her limbs.
She wouldn’t say it, not yet. But she was here. And for tonight, that was enough.
I woke up to an unsettling quiet and an empty makeshift bed sometime in the very early morning. Something was off.
Then I saw the time. It was only six in the morning.
I shot upright, scanning the room. “Olivia.” Silence. My pulse kicked up.
I stood in one quick motion, grabbed a shirt, and stalked toward the door. “Olivia.” My voice was sharp, laced with irritation and panic.
Nothing.
Grinding my teeth, I headed down the hall. “Where the hell are you?” I climbed the stairs to the second floor and kept calling out her name as I walked down the long hallway of doors.
Finally—her voice, muffled but unmistakable. “Brett?”
I froze. “Where are you?”
“In a storage room,” she yelled out.
I exhaled, pressing my fingers to my temples. Of course, she was. “And why, exactly, are you in the storage room? At dawn?”
A long pause.
“I thought I heard something in the middle of the night and came up to check. The door locked behind me.”
I stared at the ceiling, praying for patience. “And you didn’t think to wake me up before playing detective?”
Another pause. Then, predictably, “I thought I could handle it.”
My steps quickened. “Of course you did!” Olivia and her damn stubborn streak. I could already picture her—arms crossed, chin up, that defiant glint in her eye, as if she hadn’t just gotten herself locked in a storage room, of all things.
I rattled the handle. Locked, of course. “Can you just get me out?” she asked, her voice quieter now. “It’s freezing in here.”
I grumbled under my breath and scanned the hallway. Nothing useful. Just…
I patted my pockets. Paperclips.
“Okay, good news and bad news,” I called.
“Give me the good.”
I sighed. “I found paperclips.”
A beat of silence. “That’s the good news? Are you for real?”
I smirked despite myself. “The bad news is, that’s all I have. Other than my incredible skill and questionable patience.”
She sighed. “Have you ever picked a lock before?”
“You wound me, Olivia.”
“Just hurry up. I feel like I can’t breathe.”
I crouched down, straightened out the clips, and started working the lock. Olivia, naturally, couldn’t stay quiet.
“Any day now,” she hissed.
I flicked my gaze up at the door, unimpressed. “Do you want out, or do you want to keep sassing me through a locked door? I could just leave you in there, you know.”
A pause. Then, “Both.”
I huffed a laugh. “Of course you do. You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you’re still trying to save me.”
I focused on the lock. “Oh, you have no idea.”
Click.
The handle turned, and Olivia threw herself into my arms before I could react.
I barely caught her, my hands finding her waist and lower back on instinct. She was freezing. Her body pressed against mine, and for a second, just one second, I let myself feel it—her warmth, her weight, the way she fit perfectly against me.
Then she looked up.
Her dark, unreadable eyes locked onto mine, and something shifted again—a dangerous pull between us.
Then—
We were on the floor in a heartbeat, grabbing each other and taking our clothes off. Within seconds, I was buried deep inside her again as she clawed me and wrapped her legs around my back. “Take me, Brett. Please, take me,” she begged.
I could barely see straight as our lips meshed together. We rocked, fast and hard. I was pulsing and throbbing while she was moaning and arching her back. I couldn’t get enough of her. I couldn’t get deep enough. I wanted everything she was giving me and more.
My tongue pried her lips apart with hungry desire as I moved back and forth. Seconds later, I mumbled, “So close,” into her hair as I slid my hands under her ass and pulled her tighter against me.
I withdrew almost all the way out, teasing her as I bit the bottom of her lip.
“Ouch!” She glared at me, and I laughed.
Then I drove into her again, freezing as my erection contracted. I could feel the blood pumping in my heart, hear it in my ears.
It hit me everywhere: the heat, the gravity, and the sheer excitement of being close to her.
I pulled back, my breathing ragged. My grip tightened on her waist for a split second before I forced myself to let go.
She swayed slightly, her lips still parted, her eyes wild.
We said nothing but clung to each other in satiated bliss.
Once our breathing slowed and the moment fell back into normalcy, I rolled off her and pulled my clothes back on.
I helped her up, still feeling a little dizzy from the intensity of our lovemaking.
What. The. Hell.
She took a step back like she needed distance. Maybe I did too.
Then—
Reality slammed back into me.
Shit.
I raked a hand through my hair. “Wow, that was amazing.”
Her pulse still raced. I could see it in the way her chest rose and fell. “You think?”
I exhaled, long and slow, trying to shove the moment down. “We should go.”
She nodded too quickly. “Yep. Great idea. Perfect idea. Let’s pretend this never?—”