Chapter 9 Olivia #2
“Good fucking girl,” Weston praised before pulling his hand away.
My chest heaved through breaths. His face was right there in the next second, his tongue sweeping through my pussy lips as he drank in every last drop that came out of me.
He plunged his tongue deep inside, stealing everything, ruining me for everyone else.
“Fuck,” I moaned, my gaze flicking to the door when I heard the shake of the handle.
He swooped his tongue higher then, swiping it over my clit a few times before pinching it between his lips. My hand darted out for his hair. But this time, I gripped it hard as I rolled myself over his greedy mouth.
A throaty groan vibrated out of him and that hand that gripped my leg a minute ago tightened. He squeezed me so hard, I was sure it’d leave a bruise and match the one on my hip, but I loved it. Was desperate for it. For him.
“Hang in there for a second,” Lennon shouted. “I almost have it, but it’s being a pain in the ass.”
Oh no.
If Weston didn’t get to his feet, and I didn’t drop my dress, we were going to be up shit’s creek. And I couldn’t deal with that. Not right now. Not after that.
“Weston,” I whisper-hissed, tugging at his hair a little more gently and pulling my hips back so he got the message. “We have to stop. You need to get up.”
A mischievous smirk slid across his lips, “But you taste so,” he drew the word out, making it sound three syllables long, “incredibly divine. Like Heaven.”
“Weston,” I snapped.
He relented then, sliding back up to his full height as he lowered my dress back in place. “So goddamn beautiful.”
My cheeks heated, warmth sluicing through me. “Stop.”
“I’m serious,” he said, running a hand through his hair. The door handle jiggled again. His eyes rolled over me, double-checking my appearance most likely, and then he walked backward toward the tables where he dropped down into a chair.
I was too busy trying to catch my breath and think about anything other than him to notice that the door creaked open a minute later, light from Lennon’s phone snuffing out some of the darkness.
“Holy shit,” Lennon said, huffing out a laugh when he spotted me. “Of all the nights this happened, it had to be tonight, huh?”
I swallowed down the lump in my throat, dread clutching my heart as he stood there and watched me. I looked right back, cataloguing his easy, laid-back expression. Always so carefree. Always smiling. Always making promises and only half the time fulfilling them.
I forced a fake smile and felt Weston’s eyes on me from the other side of the room as Lennon approached me.
“I know, right?”
Lennon reached out and curled his hand around a few of my fingers. “Let’s get you out of here.” His brow furrowed a second later, the light from his phone catching on my face a little more. “You feeling okay? You’re a little flushed.”
I nodded, worry clawing at every part of me. “I, uh, I’ve had a migraine for most of the night. I told you about it earlier.”
“Ah, yeah. That’s right.”
“She took something for it,” Weston said, his voice trailing over to us.
He held my purse out to me, and I blinked, knowing I would have forgotten it otherwise.
“And I got her to eat a protein bar.” He stood with his hands in his slacks.
He tipped his head sideways a tiny bit when he regarded me, his brother next to us and claiming the third point of our triangle. “You should know she fainted, though.”
Lennon’s grip on my hand tightened. “You passed out? Olivia…”
I waved him off. “I did, but I’m fine now. I ate something, and I—”
“She needs sleep,” Weston said, that tongue of his peeking out and swiping at the corner of his lip again. The same one that was just inside me.
“Yeah, okay,” Lennon said. “We can do that. Can’t we?” he asked me.
I gave another nod, barely able to say a word because the truth was that my head didn’t hurt nearly as bad. My body was achy, yes, but it was almost like Weston gave me some sort of secret pill when he brought me to orgasm. Like he healed a little part of me.
Lennon turned back to his brother. “You need a ride back to your place? The rain is better than it was, but I don’t have a problem taking you back if need be.”
Weston shook his head. “I have a couple things to do around here before I head back.”
Lennon’s brow quirked. “It’s the middle of a Friday night. Go home, Weston.”
“I will,” he said. “Eventually.”
Lennon shook his head, knowing it was pointless to argue. Weston was going to do what he wanted no matter what. He turned to me. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Lennon’s hand fell away from mine, and he led the way. Weston lurked behind us, probably waiting until we were gone before he made his way to his office a few rooms over. I made it as far as the doorway before I blurted out, “I’ll be right there. I have to use the bathroom real quick.”
Lennon glanced over his shoulder. “Are you sure you can’t wait until we make it back to the house?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I really have to go.”
“Okay,” he drew out. “I can wait.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll be right behind you. Sixty seconds max.”
Lennon weighed it out, his gaze snapping to the door handle. Before he walked into the room, he must have put the stopper back under the door. “I don’t want you in here by yourself. Last thing we need is this door giving out again.”
“I’ll stay,” Weston offered. “Go pull the car up to the front.”
Lennon’s hand scrubbed over his jaw and then he relented. “Okay, yeah.” He pointed at me. “Make it quick, though.”
“I will,” I assured him. He rounded down the hallway, his footsteps sounding out like an echo in the night.
Weston was at my back before I could turn around, one large hand framing my waist as the other came up and pulled my hair to the side.
Warmth fanned across the back of my neck.
He leaned down and kissed it softly. He gripped my chin from behind, turning my head at an angle so he could see me.
Then his fingers—the same ones that were inside of me—dipped into my mouth.
“So. Fucking. Sweet.”
A moan slipped out of me, and then he gave me the softest push, nudging me out the door to follow after Lennon before walking down the opposite side of the hall.
I couldn’t help but stare after him and wonder how the hell the night’s events led to the moment I was currently living. The one where I felt torn between heading for the exit and following my boyfriend home or trailing in the direction of Weston’s office.