5. Olivia
OLIVIA
We don’t say a word. Not at first. I follow him through the fence and across the open stretch of field.
The rest of the world is silent until we reach the blanket he’s laid out on the damp grass.
That’s when we exchange a look. His is steady, like always.
Mine, less so. We’re close enough to touch now, though neither of us makes the move.
Not yet. He shrugs off his leather jacket, and I do the same with my blazer.
It’s just him and me. There’s a pause before we sink onto the blanket, a moment where we hover on the edge of something we both know too well. His dark eyes catch mine, and I can already feel the heat of his body.
He kicks off his boots, and I follow suit, the soft thud of leather punctuating the silence. I watch him as he undoes the top button of his shirt, fingers deliberate. The clothes fall away slowly as if neither of us wants to be the first to rush.
I move closer, just enough for my knee to brush against his.
He doesn’t comment, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, that almost-smile that drives me insane.
Two can play that game. I reach over, tracing the edge of his pecks with one finger.
His hand catches mine, and there’s nothing light about the grip.
“You trying to set a speed record tonight?” he murmurs, low and teasing.
“Depends. You trying to win a slow contest?” My voice comes out steady, though his touch is anything but.
His skin is warm, inviting. I wonder if he thinks the same of me when he slides the strap of my tank top aside, lips hovering close to my collarbone. There’s a catch in my breath I can’t quite control, but I feel the satisfaction in his hum when I pull him down, my mouth finding his.
It’s fast at first, urgent. I can’t tell if I’m kissing him to shut him up or to make him stay, but it’s hard and needy and not careful at all.
It takes us a moment to slow, to remember that we have all night and nothing else.
Our hands begin to explore, mapping familiar terrain like it’s brand new.
Ace’s touch trails from my jaw to my hip, leaving a path of sparks across my skin.
“Olivia,” he whispers against my throat, and it’s both a question and an answer.
My fingers knot in his hair, pulling him closer, daring him to say it again. He takes me up on it, the syllables softer this time, more breath than voice. His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing the line of my cheekbones, and I can’t resist the temptation to taste his mouth again.
Our legs tangle as he shifts above me, his movements coaxing, drawing out every reaction he knows I’ll give him. He knows this rhythm. So do I. Before long, I lose track of where I end and he begins.
The sky presses down around us, studded with stars, and the distant ridge holds its breath. Ace pulls back just far enough to catch my eyes, as if daring me to break away. I don’t. I don’t want to. My arms wrap around his neck, anchoring him to me as our bodies melt together.
Our whispers become softer, incoherent. His lips find my ear, his voice a rasped confession I don’t want to hear, but I do.
And he knows it. His fingers lace with mine, pressing our hands into the blanket as the night wraps us in its shadows.
We’re moving in perfect time now, reckless and raw and inevitable.
“Olivia,” he breathes again, and this time it shatters between us like something precious and breakable.
The way he says my name makes me forget that we are supposed to hate each other. But right now, all I want is him.
His hands slowly move down my stomach and I gasp. Things between us have always been physical. Normally, we meet up, get a couple orgasms in, and then go our separate until the next time. Something is different about tonight though.
“I was hoping you’d show up in the same outfit as this morning,” he whispers in my ear.
My hands claw up his back. “Oh, well sorry to disappoint you, cowboy.”
He stops what he is doing and looks into my eyes. “You are never a disappointment, Liv.”
And without any hesitation, he moves his face straight between my legs. Oh fuck! He’s never gone down on me before, honestly these are mostly quickie sessions, but he’s worshipping me tonight. What changed?
My hands clench the blanket and moans escape my throat, trying to keep myself from getting off too soon, because I want to savor his tongue on me for as long as I can. But he’s too damn good. “What, now you are trying to win? What happened to slow?”
“You taste too fucking good.” He wipes his mouth and goes back for seconds.
When he puts two fingers inside me, I lose it. That’s all I need to be pushed over the top and my orgasm makes my head spin. “Fuck! Fuck! Ace… don’t stop!” Oh and he doesn’t. He keeps going to let me ride out the best fucking orgasm of my life.
When he’s done, he licks his lips, and starts putting his clothes back on. “What are you doing?”
He puts his shirt on and he’s buttoning his pants. “That’s all I need tonight.”
“Umm… you can’t be serious?”
“Is there a problem?” He runs the back of his hand across his mouth. “Not every time we hook up has to be about penetration.”
I’m over wondering when this changed? He has never gone down on me, and we surely have never not had sex. “I’m just confused.”
“No need. I wanted to please you tonight.” He shifts slightly, his fingers brushing the loose strands of hair from my face, and then he lays down on his back on the blanket. “I’ve always had visions of a place just like this.”
A low laugh escapes me. “I didn’t take you for the visionary type.”
“Turns out there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I know you forgot to invite me to your last birthday,” I counter. “And the one before that.”
“Figured you might ruin the surprise.”
“With a better one?” I suggest, rolling onto my side to face him. The blanket crumples beneath us, fabric brushing skin. I watch his reaction closely, waiting for him to flinch or laugh or do anything but lie here and act like this means something more than it does.
He just smirks. “Sounds like a challenge.”
I push him back onto the grass, my hair spilling over his shoulder as I lean close. “Ace Montgomery admitting he might lose a bet? Now that is a surprise.”
He pulls me tighter against him, a low chuckle vibrating through my body.
I pretend it’s annoyance I feel, not pleasure, but even I can’t convince myself.
Especially not with the way he touches me.
I drop my head to his chest, trying to muffle the grin that I can’t seem to suppress.
It’s pointless. I can hear the smugness in his sigh.
“You ever think this place will be more?” His voice has lost its teasing edge. It’s so low I almost miss it.
I sit up slightly, propping myself on one elbow to search his face. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t hide the part of him that’s almost hopeful. “What do you see when you look out here?”
His eyes skim the horizon, the distant ridge cutting a jagged line through the dark. “Everything my father doesn’t want. My own spread, my own terms.”
I want to call him foolish, but my voice won’t let me. “You’ve always liked a fight,” I say instead, so soft the words barely exist.
“You should know, but someday I want a family… something to pass down to my kids,” he replies, and there’s nothing gentle about the way he pulls me back down, capturing my mouth with his.
I wonder if he feels the same ache I do, if his chest is as tight with things he can’t say. His lips move to my shoulder, the scrape of stubble raising goosebumps. He laughs against my skin, and it makes me tremble.
“Didn’t think you’d ever be the marrying kind. Figured you’d stay single for life.”
I make a sound that might be laughter. “Because you think I’ve got no heart?”
“Because I think you’ve got too big of one. You know what you want, and don’t settle for less.”
I fall back against the blanket, staring at the stars and wondering if I’m wrong about us.
“So you do want to get married,” he teases, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth.
I push him away playfully, but not far enough to break the contact. “I want to build something real. And do it my way.”
He looks at me like I’m the moon and he’s a wayward cowboy lost. It’s terrifying, how much I want to pull him in, keep him here, make him drown. I can’t. So I don’t. Instead, I settle against his side again, nestling into the crook of his arm. “You’re not the only one with visions.”
His hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together. Neither of us wants to move. Not yet. Not when we both know how this will end.
It should be easier than this, leaving. A casual affair that barely deserves a goodbye.
But here I am, shivering in the breeze, watching as he runs a hand through his hair and puts distance between us with his silence.
His leather jacket is the last thing he grabs.
I pick up my blazer, shaking the dew off before slipping it on.
“Tonight was?—”
I cut him off, not ready for more promises, not ready to hear what I can’t stand to. “I’m unforgettable,” I quip, but my words have an edge that wasn’t there before.
He gives a half-laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Always knew you’d run from anything that sounds like a compliment.”
“Just from you, cowboy.”
The way he looks at me, it’s more than I can bear. More than I deserve. He steps forward, just enough to close the gap I didn’t realized grew. His hand brushes mine, light and questioning, asking for something neither of us knows how to give.
I don’t pull away. Can’t. Not yet. I pull my hair back, tucking it behind one ear as I force a smile to my lips. My heart’s a stampede, wild and reckless, trampling every plan I had for us, for myself.
He runs a hand through his hair again, this time less certain, more boy than man. I know I should say something to send him on his way, but nothing comes. Nothing but the hope that this time he’ll be the one to walk away first.
Hearing what he wants, it hurts a little bit.
I shouldn’t want it with him, but I do. Or is it just the adrenaline of being caught?
Our families hate each other. It’ll never work.
So, we continue to meet in secret, and push all the other feelings to the back burner, not wanting to admit that this can’t go anywhere but not wanting it to end.