23. Olivia
Idon’t know how my commuting to work while Luke drives Riley to school turned into me hitching a ride with them and Luke taking me to work after he drops Riley off, but here we are. It’s a new routine that comes with other new routines: namely, Luke either spending nights in our apartment or me and Riley spending the weekend at his. It’s already becoming a problem, mostly because we just can’t seem to keep our hands off each other whenever we’re in the same place.
And when Riley’s asleep? Oh, it’s game on—as in me trying to stifle my moans while I challenge Luke to hold back his groans. The last part is too difficult, especially with how responsive he gets to my hands and mouth on him.
God, his cock is so responsive, too, getting so hard that I get caught with the thought that it won’t fit every time I see it. But it fits inside me perfectly, moving with a precision that already knows how I like it…and yes, it fits in my mouth, where I enjoy it just as much as I lick and suck him until he’s going crazy.
Crazy, horny, guttural-groaning Luke is a sight to behold. Stomach-clenched, begging Luke with that hoarse, rough voice is enough to turn me on like a light switch, too, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this sexually satisfied in my entire life.
But back to me hitching a ride with Luke…
“I still don’t think this is a good idea. What if someone sees us?”
Luke sighs, but it’s not an exasperated one. I think I detect some amusement in his voice when he finally speaks.
“No one will. I have a reserved parking spot at the very corner, which is also a blind spot from the other reserved parking spots. It goes straight to the private elevator leading to the hospital, which only Harold uses—and Harold is only ever here once a month for his even more special patients.”
Harold is a revered doctor like Luke; he’s a plastic surgeon who only comes in monthly as he has a clinic of his own. I’ve heard Luke’s excuse plenty of times, but I still can’t help but fret.
“Still. Anyone could see us coming in.”
“My car windows are tinted as hell. We could have sex in here and no one would ever know.”
My heart jumps at his words. It’s not a suggestion with his matter-of-fact voice, but my mind goes straight to the gutter and imagines us doing just that. I can already imagine how tight and hot everything would be, from the car space to him inside me as we try to keep it quiet.
Then, I banish the thought from my mind.
“What about surveillance cameras?”
“Roger’s been the security guard assigned to this section for years, and he doesn’t tell anyone about what he sees on the cameras unless it involves a breach of security. I heard there have been plenty of affairs happening under his watch that no one will ever know about.”
Jeez.
“But…”
“We’ve already been through this, baby.” He leans in to kiss my cheek in reassurance. “No one’s going to see us. Besides, you always go up ahead and I linger elsewhere. We can just keep doing that until you’re more comfortable, okay?”
I finally relent. “Okay.”
I don’t know what will change once I’m more comfortable, as he said, but that becomes the furthest thing from my mind when his kiss drifts to my mouth and our exchange turns heated. Except for rare moments, it always turns heated between us, a by-product of our attraction that doesn’t seem to want to go away anytime soon. Perhaps it never will.
He groans when I nip his lower lip, an accidental move. Then he’s nipping mine, too, though more playfully, and we sink into such a sizzling desire that my nipples are aching and my core is throbbing in no time. I almost jump him then and there, a part of me wanting to catch him off guard before I make him even harder than he is already.
But I don’t. Instead, I scramble and press myself against the passenger door, glaring at him while trying to catch my breath.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You have a patient coming in early and I have to set up your files right away. And I don’t want to wrinkle that perfectly pressed dress shirt.”
To my disbelief, he smirks. “Fine. But don’t worry about wrinkling it later. I don’t mind at all.”
Oh, this man. I shake my head and can’t help but stifle a laugh when we get out of the car and into the elevator. Then, I exit on a different floor while he stays. My paranoia hit hard the first few times we did this, but I guess a part of me has gotten used to it as I greet some colleagues I spot with less nervousness and more confidence.
I haven’t seen Mark in ages, which I suppose helps me relax my guard, too. When I arrive at the office, I get settled into my routine and join Luke as he greets the first patient, a sweet old lady who once had a brain operation handled by Luke and only really visits because she wants to be repeatedly assured that she won’t need another surgery. Luke can turn her down easily, but he indulges her because she’s friends with his parents.
And she’s a sweetheart.
“Thank you, boy. It’s such a relief to hear from you that there’s nothing to worry about.”
Luke smiles at her kindly. “I told you, Mrs. Solis, that it’s all good. In fact, you’re the healthiest you’ve been in the last two years, and you’re as strong as an ox. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m glad. Speaking of strong as an ox…I saw your ex-wife at the gala I was attending last week. She seems to be getting chummy with that model she’s been seeing.”
I stiffen, mostly because I don’t know how Luke will react to this. I know he’s aware that Carol is still seeing that man she brought to the pool party, and while Luke is over her, being confronted with that knowledge in public must be hard. Surprise hits me when Luke continues smiling.
“Good for her.”
“Hmm.” Mrs. Solis sniffs. “Never been a fan of him.”
“Really?” His lips quirk. “And here I thought you meant he was as strong as an ox.”
“I meant you, boy. When are you going to start dating again?”
“When the right time comes.”
“Right time, pfft.” The old woman scoffs. “You’re in your forties. If you keep waiting for the right time, then you’ll be sitting like a miserable fool instead of having all that wild, brain-scrambling sex with some hot, young thing.”
A cough gets stuck in my throat and I have the most horrible urge to laugh. I bite it in and keep my gaze away from them, busying myself with quietly taking the files from Luke’s desk.
“Mrs. Solis…”
“Seriously. Whoever said sex is overrated just hasn’t had good sex—or they are the most boring people in the world. I’m sure you know how to rock any young thing’s world. Or wait, how do you young folks put it? Ah, yes, screw the brains. I’m sure you’re more than capable of screwing someone’s brains out, boy.”
This time, it’s Luke who coughs. “Hmm.”
“So get started on that. Sow your oats. Screw brains out. Find your true love along the way.”
“I…yes, ma’am.”
She beams, satisfied with his answer. “That’s the spirit. I’m glad we’re in agreement.”
I bite back another laugh and drop over a tray of wrapped chocolates, which is another routine that makes Mrs. Solis light up. Maybe I also want to end Luke’s discomfort, however amusing it is.
“Here you go, Mrs. Solis. Take as many as you want.”
“Not that much.” Luke frowns. “We want your glucose levels to remain steady and nice.”
She waves a hand, then turns that bright smile toward me. “You, my dear, are a sweetheart. Luke, she’s the best medical assistant you’ve had here.”
At that, his frown eases and he nods. “I know, Mrs. Solis.”
“Good. I hope you value her and keep her.”
“I will, Mrs. Solis. I’ll do my best to make her happy.”
Is it me or is it getting hot in here? I want to say I’m blushing at Mrs. Solis’s compliment, but I know I’m blushing at the intimacy in Luke’s voice. Why does it sound like he’s already talking about something else and not just me being his assistant?
Impossible. We still haven’t defined this relationship, and I don’t think he has any plans to. He’s respecting my wishes and…
He’s respecting my wishes. Not crossing boundaries. It should make me happy.
I am happy. Aren’t I?
I brush off the intimate voice as my imagination gets away from me.
And I brush off the nagging feeling that I want more to the very back of my mind.
“Olivia? It’s me, Jennifer. Do you remember me? From the museum?”
I shift the phone from one ear to the other, surprised to hear from her of all people. We haven’t talked since I visited their place, and while that conversation was amazing, she never really promised me anything beyond displaying my art pieces. Even this phone call seems random.
“Hey, Jennifer. Yes, of course, I remember you. It’s nice to hear from you.” Then, “What’s up?”
I listen as she tells me about mundane stuff and I do the same. But it doesn’t last long as she clears her throat.
“Listen, I have a reason for calling. Remember your pieces that I had on display?”
As if I can forget. My stomach clenches, braced for her to tell me that it’s time to recall them. I keep my tone the same, not about to treat her differently because of it.
“Yes? What about them?”
“Well, they all sold out.”
I blink, unsure if I’m hearing it right. When there’s no follow-up, I suck in a breath. “They sold out? But…there were a lot on display.”
She laughs. “Yes. And they all sold out. Naturally, since they were replicas, I promised the buyers that I would talk to you first before we seal the deal and ship them the original pieces. Assuming you’re still good with selling them, of course.”
“Yes. Of course, I am.”
This is insane.
“But that’s not all.” She hums on the line, and I can already tell there’s more news coming my way. I brace myself again. “I have some buyers who are sad that your pieces already sold out but are adamant about getting their own. So, I told them you commission art through your website and that they should contact you there if they wish to talk to you about it. But if you want help with that—I’m talking around six buyers here—I can set up the meeting for you and the buyers in my museum office to make it more formal.”
My mind…it’s reeling. I’ve had commissions, sure, but not at this scale, and never this many at once. Jennifer can probably sense my hesitation as she continues.
“Also, I already told them that you have a regular job, and they are open to longer time frames. But it would be best to discuss it with them, of course.”
It’s crazy. It’s too much, overwhelming me since she’s basically saying that she sold out all the finished work in my art room minus my sketches and personal pieces. And the buyers want more.
It’s an achievement, but how the hell am I going to manage to make more when I have work and Riley?
Just don’t give up on it. That’s all I’m saying, Liv. And when the time is right in your mind, then chase it with a smile and without worries.
Luke’s words come back to me. I don’t have to accommodate all the potential buyers, but I can listen to all of them and see if they’re okay with a longer timeframe. Either way, Luke is right.
This is an opportunity that I shouldn’t let pass by.
“Jennifer, would it work for you if I schedule them in your museum office? Maybe this weekend, so I can listen to what they have in mind and they’ll be more comfortable in the formal setting.”
That excites Jennifer, who immediately agrees and says she can also use the opportunity to get to know the buyers more for potential future deals. I relax at that, understanding that it balances things out between us, and I won’t be taking advantage of her kindness.
“Oh, and one last thing, Liv.”
“Yes?”
“I’m kind of sad that your pieces are leaving my museum. I really liked looking at them, so I want to commission more from you. You’re so good, Liv. Your pieces inspire me, but of course, you should prioritize the buyers first. I’m more than willing to wait until you’re ready to provide me with more artwork.”
Oh, my God.
My hand holding the phone shakes. I suppose a part of me is still wondering if she’s only doing this as a favor to Luke, who’s her good friend, but her words warm my heart and tell me right away that it isn’t the case.
Jennifer likes my art. They inspire her.
And there’s nothing more touching than that.
“I would love that, Jennifer. We can talk about it this weekend, too.”
“Sure. Sounds great. And please, call me Jen.”
We end the call on a positive note, but my energy is uncontainable. So, still with a shaking hand, I call Luke.
“Hey, Liv. I’m already at the parking lot. Where are you?”
“I’m still in the office. I’m heading downstairs. But we shouldn’t go home yet.”
“We shouldn’t?”
“No. Nancy, my sitter, has been asking for overtime to earn extra money lately, so tonight’s perfect.” I take a deep breath and grin. “It’s Friday night. I’m taking you out on a date.”