Chapter Fourteen
Olivia
T he rest of the day, I try to avoid thinking about Austin. It’s terrifying how quickly he’s taken over my life.
I work on a few things for my channel, re-doing the product review from the week before and editing a few other videos from the “almost done” column on my planning spreadsheet.
However, the evening feels mainly like a distraction. I am tempering my emotions, reminding myself that Austin wouldn’t hurt Danny, because hurting Danny would hurt me.
Still, he left without so much as an explanation.
Is he going to talk to him? Or is he going somewhere else?
He's left me alone on a Saturday night, so presumably, he has plans. Plans he can't tell me about. Although my thoughts run rampant, they don’t quite make sense in my mind. It’s like I am trying to convince myself that he must be doing something bad.
If only so I expect the worst from him. If I do that, then at least I won’t be disappointed when this inevitably hits me like a pie to the face.
Luca’s voice rings in my ears: What are you doing?
Playing with your food? I need to protect myself at all costs.
I curl up in bed, tucking the blanket right up to my chin. The soft light from the lamp fills the room in a pink hew as I attempt to read. I scan over the same sentence five times until I finally admit defeat.
For the past few days, Austin has been letting himself into my house at night and heading straight to the basement.
I’ve been trying to tempt him to change paths, but it hasn’t worked so far.
The red light that bathes my bedroom filtered down the stairs, tempting him from the downstairs hallway.
I know he’s seen it. I checked one evening, and the glow practically lit up the wall against the stairs.
But even my suggestive lighting hasn’t been enough to encourage him.
Am I hoping the books I've lent him will encourage him to make a move?
Sure. But the man has the patience of a priest.
Well . . . a good priest.
Finally I hear his car pull up and the jingle of keys at the door. Closing it shut with a gentle click, I can practically feel him pause. There is no shuffling, not a sigh or even a sneeze. Silence descends on the house for a few moments.
I hold my breath, waiting for his next move. The clomping thwack of rubber soles against wooden floorboards thuds up to my room, footsteps as heavy as the frustration building in my stomach. As his steps grow fainter, I realize he’s headed toward the back of the house.
I roll into my pillow, exasperation and annoyance hitting me all at once as my veins start to heat. Fuck him. He could see my light was on, and he left me when he said we were going to spend the day together. Presumably, that means the night, too.
I pull the covers off me, ready to fly down there and tell him what I really think. As my feet hit the floor, I spin and see him leaning against the doorframe. I inhale sharply and take a step back into my bedside cabinet.
“Fuck, you scared me.”
“Hey, Killer.” His eyes slip down to my bare thighs.
“How’d you get up here so quietly?”
“I took my shoes off.” He shrugs.
“You’ve done it before?”
“Take my shoes off?” He smirks, tilting his head slightly as he takes in my silky pink pajamas.
“No . . . come up here. ”
He looks away. “You’ve seen me sleep, I thought it was only fair I should see you sleeping too.”
“Is that your thing ?”
His smile turns from a small smirk to an all-out grin in half a second. “No Killer. I like my companions awake. Why? Is it yours?”
“You have a lot of companions, do you?” I can’t hide the jealousy that laces my words as I avoid his other question. The thought of waking up with his head between my legs has crossed my mind once or twice.
“Not many lately. I’ve been a little preoccupied, if you haven’t noticed.”
“So tonight . . .”
“That’s what you think?” All playfulness vanishes as hurt takes over.
“I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He sighs, entering my room for what I assume is the first time but who really knows?
He takes a seat on the bed, tugs my hand, and draws me in between his legs.
His thumb skates over my knuckles, and I can feel his breath on my chest. His eyes level with my collarbone, and I watch them dip down to the silky fabric covering my breasts.
“Fuck,” I hear him whisper before his chin lifts and his deep brown eyes meet mine.
“Are you jealous, Olivia?” he asks softly.
“I was worried.” I lift my chin, my jaw jutting out in a hard line. I’m practically pouting. Of course I’m fucking jealous.
“What are you worried about?” His thumb brushes over the thin strip of skin exposed between my sleep shorts and my top.
His touch burns my skin, and I fight every instinct to step back.
My breathing quickens, and my gaze fixes on his lips.
God, I want him so bad. My body knows it, my mind knows it.
My heart is teetering on the edge, desperately pleading with the rest of me to stand firm.
“A few things,” I mutter.
“Yeah?” He drops a kiss on the swell of my breast. “Let me alleviate some of your concerns.”
His tongue peeks out as he drops open-mouth kisses through the fabric of my top.
My hardened peaks swell as he masterfully sucks, scraping just the right amount of teeth over them.
A surge of heat travels fast to my lower belly, like being dragged out to sea by an unforeseen current; I’m swept away almost instantly.
My mind quiets for the first time in hours, focusing solely on the feeling he draws out of me.
If he dared slip his hands to the inside of my shorts, he’d find me wet and wanting for him.
Another throb hits me as he finally snakes his hand between my legs, pulling me closer to him as his hand spreads over my ass cheeks. I could ride the bulging veins on his forearm if I wanted to. And fuck, do I want to.
He releases my nipple, twisting me slightly so he can tend to the other one. The damp fabric from his spit rubs itself against my overly sensitive buds, causing a delicious roughness.
At last, he talks. “There’s no one else, Olivia. There hasn’t been for a long time. What’s your next concern?”
I whimper as he follows the same tortuous routine with his tongue and teeth on my left nipple, which has always been more sensitive than the right. My head lolls back, and I rest my forearms on his shoulders, my fingers playing with his hair.
“Olivia . . .”
“Hmm?”
Can’t think.
Can’t breathe.
“What other concerns do you have?”
“I thought you might hurt Danny for what he said to me.”
His lips pop from the fabric, his mouth parted and his brows knitted together.
“Don’t stop, please,” I beg.
He withdraws his hand back between my legs and gently moves me to the side.
Standing and heading toward the door, his head bent low and shaking.
He mutters something to himself. My heart hammers in my chest, sinking like an anchor, hitting the seabed with such force that everything living swims as far away as possible.
“Wait, where are you going?” I whine desperately.
“Downstairs. You’re not ready. You don’t trust me.”
“You stormed out after you heard my conversation with Danny. What was I supposed to assume?”
“Did it ever cross your mind that if I wanted to confront Danny, I would have just come out of the basement?”
Well, fuck.
“I . . .”
“So all afternoon, you just thought I was either fucking someone else or hurting your brother?”
“Austin . . .”
“Answer me.”
“Y...Yes, that’s what I thought. At least a small part of me did. But you have to take some responsibility for me jumping to those conclusions.”
“You kidnapped me, remember? You brought yourself into this world, and now you act like I’m the one that’s tried to harm you. I’ve never, not once, caused you harm, and yet you fear me so much.”
“Because I know what you’re capable of,” I practically shout.
The remark lands just how it means to. His lips part in disbelief, and he shakes his head again, disappointment rolling off him in waves.
His explanation makes sense, but I need to be right more than I need him to point out the flaw in my argument.
And now I’ve hurt him—the big bad wolf, wounded by the puny human.
He tilts his head to the ceiling. Praying to someone, maybe. How to deal with a paranoid girlfr— companion who, after having her nippled sucked to the brink of an orgasm, has decided to kill the moment by freaking out.
He steps toward me, and the squeeze in my chest loosens a fraction. Clasping my hands, he brings them to his lips and presses hard against the skin. He’s been so angry, so upset, and now he is comforting me. My heart is a yo-yo; the constant rise and fall is making my head spin.
“I like your brother, but I like you more,” he says, his voice even and calm.
“Okay?” I say as a small sob slips out.
He brushes the tear that has rolled down my cheek. “Well...you love your brother. If I hurt him, I’d hurt you.”
“And you don’t want to do that?”
He laughs. “Why would I want to hurt you? I’ve been trying very hard to date you.”
I nod slowly, looking down at my toes.
“I . . . I’ve heard things.”
“Hmm.” His thumb rubs over my lip. “What have you heard, Killer?”
“You’re a bad man.”
“Rarely.”
“Then how have I heard about it?”
“I make an impact when it counts.”
I nod, my shoulders slumping down from exhaustion.
“I’ll let you sleep, sweetheart. And I’ll give you some space to work through these feelings, okay?
” He sounds resigned. Guilt overtakes me.
I have done that to him. I’ve brought up things I have no real knowledge of.
Going off rumors and hearsay. I’ve ruined what could have been us finally spending the night together.
“Wait . . . I don’t need space. I’m sorry.”
“You do, Olivia. But I’ll be watching. And when you’re ready, I’ll be back.”
“Please stay.”
“Why would you want that if you think I’m a monster?”