44. Olivia #2
God. What was I thinking?
Doubt sinks her ugly claws into me, making me want to run for the damn hills and never return.
“Hey, I gotta hit the bathroom, but afterward, you guys want to move closer?” I ask over the hoots and hollers of the crowd that goes wild, waiting for the fight to begin.
“The-the best idea yet!” Simon says enthusiastically.
“Careful,” Daniel says with sincerity. “We’ll wait here for you, okay?” There’s a slight concern in his eyes as he watches me take a step toward the bathroom and leans over to whisper in Simon’s ear. Simon blushes slightly and sags into Daniel with his eyes falling halfway closed.
“You, too,” I say, furrowing my brows and darting my gaze to Daniel, who gives me a careful nod.
I take a deep breath as I walk away from them and through the disappearing crowd as they move closer to the ring, trying to get the best spot when the next fights start.
Near the bathrooms, no one is really hanging around.
So, I go inside and quickly do my business, thanking God I can go into the women’s restroom, where it’s not as disgusting as the men’s.
Oh, and no period this time! Because I’ve taken about all I can take with men and their gross bathroom habits.
I mean, come on! It’s not that hard to hit the toilet every once in a while.
Fuckers.
As I’m washing my hands, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and halt my movements at the sight of her.
“You got this,” I murmur to myself, grabbing a paper towel and drying my hands.
I blow out a breath, noting my makeup still covers every inch of my face and scars.
It’s so odd to see myself as someone other than myself.
Or Oliver. I’ve gotten used to looking at my reflection and seeing a man look back at me.
But this? This girl? This isn’t me. Hell, even the old Olivia wasn’t me.
Every time I look in the mirror, I wonder who is really looking back at me.
A secret agent? A broken fucking vessel?
Me? The real me? I’ll never truly know. I’ve been pretending for so long; sometimes it’s hard to come back from that and recognize the real me.
“You totally have this,” I murmur again, stepping away from the mirror and squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin.
Counting to ten in my head, I finally force the panic into the secure box in the back of my mind.
I’ve got this. I can do this. I can watch Malic fight and then…
Well, I don’t fucking know. I’m an agent of the fucking law, dammit.
Not a seductress. I’ve only had to do it a few times before.
I was a stripper once, for fuck’s sake. I seduced people with my barely there dance moves. But I still did it, damn it!
So, this should be cake.
Right?
So, no more freaking out, Liv. Go out there, maybe flash some side boob to get him intrigued, and then convince him he should take you back to his place.
Easy peasy.
With all those thoughts running through my mind, I swing open the bathroom door and nearly stumble over my feet at the sight of him standing there. Malic. Waiting. With wild eyes, taking in every inch of me. Slowly. Heated. His teeth sink into his bottom lip the second his gaze connects with mine.
Like a monster waiting for his prey to emerge so he can pounce.
Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“Fuck,” I breathe more to myself than to him, unable to hold my thoughts inside like I normally do.
I so don’t have this. I’m fucked. So, utterly fucked.
“Little Ghost,” Malic murmurs, tilting his head. “You’ve returned to me again.”
My face heats. “H-how did you?” I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Little Ghost. It’s what he called me in the bathroom at the bar. It’s like he knows exactly who I am. But he can’t, can he? There’s no way he can look at me now and know I’m Oliver. That we’ve talked before.
My heart slams into my ribs again. All the cool and calm I had finally found in the bathroom is now long gone, spiraling me into the abyss. In slow, methodical steps, he stalks toward me with intent swirling in his eyes.
The predator is on the prowl for his willing prey.
The mouthwatering aroma of his cologne hits my senses with the same jarring familiarity it did at the blood drive, stirring an odd sensation inside me.
Stepping directly into my space and knocking me back into the wall beside the bathroom door, I gasp at the cool wall at my back.
His arm rests against the wall above my head, forcing me to lean back and stare directly into the storm that swirls in his eyes.
“Aw, Crumpet,” he breathes with a slight chuckle. “I’d recognize you anywhere.” He grins down at me, tilting his head.
I don’t have time to speak when his fingers brush against the scars on my face, tracing them despite the heavy makeup covering every inch of my skin.
Apparently, I can’t conceal them from Malic.
Or anything.
Panic wells up inside me as I stand rigidly, allowing him to trace my burns and move his fingers through my shaggy brown locks. Like a lamb to fucking slaughter.
“I saw you the second you walked in.” He cocks his head again, examining my short hair.
“New hair? It suits you.” His piercing blue eyes darken as they roam over my clothes again, really taking in the outfit I’m wearing.
I swear his pupils dilate and his breath kicks up a notch.
“New clothes, too?” he groans, licking his lips with a hunger that has my skin heating and my back bowing.
“What brings you back to me, Little Ghost?”
He steps impossibly closer, pressing his body into my slightly smaller frame. The wall is the only thing grounding me in the moment. Shivers spill down my spine and over every inch of my body at the feel of him against me.
“To see you,” I whisper, forcing my heavy tongue to work. Was it a lie? No. “The fight,” I force out.
Malic grins more. “To see me, hmmm? I’m honored, but I thought you were leaving, Crumpet.” His eyes look me up and down with approval. “But I won’t deny I’m happy to see you.”
“I did leave. But I came back. Only for tonight,” I say breathlessly, getting lost in the depths of his eyes as he takes me in again and again. “Only for tonight,” I try to emphasize, pleading with him to understand that this can’t happen again.
Not after tonight.
Malic presses against me again, pushing me further into the wall.
He leans down, his lips a millimeter away from mine.
Kiss me. Fucking kiss me. My mind chants with an eagerness I hadn’t realized was there.
His breath passes over my parted lips, sending more shivers down my spine.
I’m a damn goner, for sure. Then, he stops everything.
Hesitates right before he connects the softness of his lips against mine and simply stares into my eyes as his pupils dilate.
“Only one night?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine with every word he speaks.
“Then, maybe we should take advantage of our one night together?” he asks.
“Maybe I should take you back to my room and show you a proper time. Dirty the sheets. My mouth on your pussy again and again. Me claiming you like I should have the last time I laid eyes on you.”
“Fuck.” I shiver when his lips brush against my jaw, peppering soft kisses on my flesh.
“That, too.” A chuckle vibrates through his chest, and he groans, running a finger across my throat and down toward my tits.
My back arches, giving him access as he squeezes over my barely there shirt.
“What do you say, Little Ghost? Should we pick up where we left off? Only this time, I’ll tie you to my bed and never let you go. ”
You hear that, internal Olivia? He’s promising to tie you to his bed and never let you go. He’s dangerous. He could ruin you in a damn night.
Yeah, yeah. Don’t care. Need him.
“Malic!” Wilder shouts from somewhere close.
“Ah, enter the cockblocker of the century,” Malic mumbles against my neck.
In my hazy state, I peel my eyes open and watch as Wilder stomps toward us with a furious expression clouding his face.
Malic doesn’t move a muscle, keeping himself firmly pressed against me as his growing want pokes my stomach. It does something to me. Stirs something crazy inside me that begs me to do something about this right here and now. Fuck this is bad. So fucking bad.
“How wet are you for me, Little Ghost?” he whispers directly into my ear. “Should I dip my fingers into your pussy and feel it as it coats my fingers? Hmm? Maybe Wilder would want a lick, too?”
“What?” I whisper, turning to look directly at Malic as he hovers above me, his hand teasing the waistband of my jeans with a chuckle. Well, until he pulls his fingers back and clicks his tongue a few times.
“Soon,” he whispers on a promise, kissing my cheek gently. “Soon, you’ll have it all. And so will I.” He grins, stepping back and adjusting himself.
Something Wilder notices immediately as he looks Malic over with heated cheeks. He averts his eyes and clears his throat.
“Malic.”
“Keeper,” Malic greets happily. “What brings you to my neck of the woods? Were you here for the show?”
Wilder gets even redder, shaking his head. “Show? Your neck of the woods? What the hell?” Wilder asks, rubbing the back of his neck with exasperation. “It’s almost time and…” Wilder stops abruptly, his entire body tensing at the sight of Malic standing so close to me again. “Who the—”
“Oh, Keeper. You remember, don’t you?” Malic asks in a silky voice.
“My little ghost has come back from—” The dead.
It’s almost as if he wanted to utter those words but bit his tongue at the last minute.
He looks over at me with a cocked head. “Well, back from wherever she ran off to before we had a special moment in the bathroom of X Marks the Spot. You remember being a cock block then too, old chap?” He sends Wilder a playful death glare.