Chapter 40
Oliver
By the end of the night, after Hayes and Ava have headed back to their hotel and Kia disappeared down the hall claiming exhaustion, the apartment falls quiet.
Rina and I remain on the couch, the silence settling between us.
She’s curled up beside me, head tipped back against the cushion, fatigue etched into every line of her face.
Even with shadows smudged beneath her eyes, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
My need for her goes so much deeper than her body. I’ve had nights with women where that’s all it ever was. Heat, skin, and the rush of release before walking away untouched by anything real. That kind of desire has always been easy.
Forgettable.
With Rina, nothing is easy.
And it sure as hell isn’t forgettable.
I want to take the weight she’s carrying, to strip away the fear and tension bleeding her dry. I want to prove that whatever this is between us, it’s not just desire.
It’s something much deeper.
I slide my hand over hers, my thumb stroking along her knuckles before giving a gentle tug. “Come to bed with me, babe.”
Her brows draw together, suspicion flashing in her eyes. “Oliver—”
“Not to fuck,” I cut in, my tone steady, threaded with a truth I’ve never spoken to anyone. “I want to take care of you.”
For a long moment she simply studies me. The snappy retort I expect never comes. Instead, she looks at me with uncertainty, a faint crack showing in her armor. That hesitation, that flicker of trust, feels more important than any climax I’ve ever given her.
I lace my fingers through hers before leading her toward the bedroom.
There have been plenty of times when our sex was frantic. Fueled by want, desperation, and the need to lose ourselves in each other. But that’s not what I crave tonight.
With Rina, I don’t want quick or forgettable.
I want to carve every second into her memory.
The bedroom glows in amber light, blurring the edges of everything.
I take my time undressing her. My fingers work the buttons of her blouse one at a time, each gentle pop exposing another inch of skin.
I lower my mouth and kiss each newly revealed expanse, taking my time to savor all of her—the graceful curve of her collarbone and the gentle rise of her chest—until the blouse slips from her shoulders in a whisper of fabric.
Her bra follows, the clasp giving way beneath my fingers before I slip the straps down her arms.
I drop to my knees in front of her, my palms sliding down her hips to the button of her pants. After flicking it open, I drag the zipper low and kiss her stomach, her hip bones, the hollow just below her navel. She shudders as I peel the slacks down until they puddle at her feet.
“This isn’t about distracting you,” I say against her skin, taking in her delectable scent. “It’s about adoring every gorgeous inch of you.”
Her lashes flutter, and for once, there isn’t a cutting response ready on her tongue. It’s just silence and the weight of her steady gaze.
I ease her back onto the mattress, lowering her with a gentleness that feels almost foreign.
Only then do I strip out of my own clothes, tugging the confining material off and dropping it in a careless pile.
When I’m just as bare as she is, I climb onto the bed and ease between her thighs until we’re perfectly lined up, as if we were always meant to fit together this way.
In that moment, it hits me all over again. This isn’t about taking. It’s about giving. About holding. About finally finding something worth keeping.
Even before I move, rightness settles over me. The sight of her beneath me, her hair fanned out across the pillow, eyes locked on mine as if she’s trying to decide whether to trust me or run, undoes me completely.
I brace myself on one elbow and cradle her chin with my other hand so my thumb can sweep over the tremble of her lip. Her lashes lower like a curtain as she tries to break eye contact.
“Don’t hide from me, Rina,” I whisper. “Not tonight.”
My cock nudges her entrance, and the slick heat makes my head spin as I sink deep inside her. There’s no slamming or urgency. It’s just deliberate, unhurried strokes that say everything I can’t trust myself to put into words.
Her lips part on a moan, her body clenching around me like she’s trying to keep me close.
“Do you feel that?” I murmur against her mouth. “This isn’t just sex. This is me giving you every fucking thing I am.”
Her hands fist the sheets, then shake as they slide up my arms, searching for something solid to hold on to.
“I’m scared,” she says, her voice breaking. “Everything with you feels so different.”
I kiss her slow and deep, my forehead pressed to hers as I whisper, “I know, baby. I feel it too. But you’re safe with me. I’m not going anywhere. What I’m offering is forever.”
It should terrify me, how much of myself I’ve given to this woman without even realizing it. But for the first time in my life, I don’t want to take it back.
Her nails rake down my back, her body shuddering as release rips through her. Watching her unravel beneath me, head thrown back and lips parted in ecstasy, is the most powerful thing I’ve ever experienced.
I hold her through it, kissing her throat, her cheek, the corner of her mouth as I move inside her, trying to give her everything I have.
Everything I am.
Even as she clings, arms locked tight, I feel the fear she can’t let go of, the walls she’s still gripping for safety.
I roll us onto our sides, keeping her close, gathering her against me until she’s curled in my arms. Eventually she exhales, cheek pressing against my skin as her body melts into mine.
The quiet of the moment seeps into me. Holding her like this makes me ache with how much I want this woman.
Not just her body but the hidden parts she keeps locked away.
It hits me that maybe if I take the first step and show her the hidden parts of myself, she’ll do the same and finally believe this is more than sex.
I steady myself and force out the question. “You know the picture of my family in the living room?”
Her voice is drowsy. “Mm-hmm.”
“My dad died right after it was taken. It’s the last one I have of us all together.”
Her lashes lift, eyes blinking open, startled by the quiet admission.
Even though it’s difficult, I swallow hard.
“Hayes was still in high school when it happened. One day he was just my brother, and the next, he was… everything. He had to take care of us, keep the house running, and keep me in line. He became more of a father figure than a sibling, and it wasn’t fair to him, but he did it anyway. ”
The truth comes out raw and jagged, but I continue because she deserves this part of me too.
“He held us together when we could’ve easily fallen apart.
He was good at it. Better than anyone his age in the same circumstances should’ve been.
No matter how hard he tried, though, there was always a hole none of us could fill. ”
I glance down at her, at the way her fingers curl lightly against my chest. “I swore if I ever had a kid, I’d never let them feel that kind of loss. Not if I could help it.”
What I keep to myself is that losing her would feel like losing the only family I ever built for myself.
She stares at me with eyes that are glassy with emotion, and for a second, I almost think she understands me and where I’m coming from.
“That’s the problem, Oliver. You’re saying all the right things because of this baby. But it can’t be the only thing holding us together.”
Her fingers twitch against me, as if she’s reaching for something she can’t quite make herself take.
Her response hits like a blade between my ribs.
The only thing holding us together?
This woman has no idea that she’s the axis my whole damn world tilts on. Of course the baby matters. But Rina?
She’s everything.
I frame her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me, needing her to hear the truth. “You still don’t get it. I’m not here because of the baby. I’m here because of you. You’re already enough—you’re everything. You always have been.”
She shakes her head, a denial trembling on her lips, but her body betrays her as she arches into me, clinging tighter, holding me like she’s terrified of letting go.
I roll us over, pulling her on top of me, needing her to see, to feel the truth in everything I’ve confessed. Her hair falls forward in a dark curtain, shutting out the rest of the world until it’s only us, as she braces her hands on my chest.
“Look at me,” I rasp, gripping her hips. “Don’t you dare think you’re not enough.”
Her eyes meet mine, and when she finally moves, it nearly shatters me. The sight of her above me, vulnerable and open, unravels me.
Each roll of her hips is a promise, each sigh a reminder of what’s already between us.
“That’s it, baby,” I groan. “You and me. Always.”
A tremor runs through her as her nails bite into my skin. The way she clings is proof she hears me, even if she’s not ready to say it back. Her pace falters, but I steady her hips, guiding her into a tempo that drives us both higher.
“Oliver,” she whispers, my name breaking on her lips, torn between fear and need.
“Let go for me,” I say. “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”
Her body tightens as she splinters apart, clutching me like she’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping her afloat. Seeing her this way, face flooded with pleasure and trust and something dangerously close to surrender, rips me apart.
A few deep thrusts later and I’m coming hard with a noise that doesn’t sound human. My hands stay locked on her, as if it’s possible to fuse us together. My release spills inside her, and all I can think is that this woman is mine.
She belongs to me.
The same way I belong to her.
She collapses against me, hair draping across my torso, as I wrap my arms around her. I stay buried inside her, unwilling to let the connection fade. Her skin is damp with sweat as her pulse races against mine. Little by little, she sinks into me, the tension easing from her frame.
I press a kiss to the crown of her head, my lips lingering like a promise. “You’re enough,” I murmur into her hair. “You’ll always be enough.”
She makes a small sound, almost a whimper, but doesn’t pull away. Her hands fist weakly at my chest, then loosen, fingers splaying open like she’s finally letting herself rest.
It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out.
Even in sleep, she searches for me, tucking closer until the warmth of her breath feathers against the hollow of my throat.
Maybe it’s nothing.
Or maybe it’s the smallest bit of trust.
She never acknowledged what I said, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe silence is all she can give right now.
If that’s the case, I’ll take it.
I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give.
And hopefully someday, she’ll believe it.
She’ll know she’s enough because I’ll never let her forget it.
I roll us carefully onto our sides, keeping her tucked close, our legs tangled together under the sheets. My palm spreads protectively over her stomach, and she shifts into my hold, as if her body already knows what her heart is too stubborn to admit.
The glow of the city lights seeps through the window, painting her skin in a faint gold. I study her in the dim light, memorizing every curve. I remain awake long after she begins snoring softly, because I don’t want to let go of this moment.
Her body is pliant against me now, trusting. By morning, that trust will be gone, especially with the world outside this room waiting to test it.
Evelyn’s comment from earlier rings in my head.
She’ll try to push you away.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe Rina doesn’t fully trust me yet.
Maybe she won’t for a long time.
But that won’t stop me from proving she can.
One small touch at a time, until she does.