Chapter 6
After the July Fourth weekend, the days slipped by so quickly that I could barely remember how I spent the time leading up to the last Saturday before our wedding. We had decided on separate bachelor and bachelorette parties, even though Oliver was initially resistant. I promised him we could meet up at one of his clubs at the end of the night.
I stood in front of my closet, wrapped in a short pink robe, contemplating what to wear for the evening. My bridal party—Sadie, Diane, Lisa, my high school friend Darla, and my college friend Laura—were all ready for a night out.
Raquel and Brenda would be our escorts, ensuring we were safe as we made our way around town. Meanwhile, my brothers—Wilmer, Ivan, and Dax—would be hanging out with Oliver at some cigar bar in the financial district, indulging in brandy and expensive cigars in a private, leather-furnished room.
I wrinkled my nose when Oliver told me about his plans. It sounded like something an old man would do. I chose a short black dress with spaghetti straps that hugged my body like a glove. I decided against a bra since it would ruin the dress's lines; my breasts were firm and high enough without it. I was slipping on a pair of black mesh panties when Oliver walked into the closet.
“No bra?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t need a bra. It ruins the lines,” I replied, smoothing the dress down to my mid-thigh.
He watched me intently, and before I realized it, he was behind me, cupping my breasts and sliding his thumbs over my nipples. They tightened under his touch, pushing against the fabric of my dress.
“I hope no one turns you on tonight,” he murmured.
“Who would do that? I’m only turned on by you,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.
“Look at your nipples. You can see everything.”
“You cannot. You can see an outline of them,” I retorted, gently pushing his hands away.
I went to the bathroom to apply my makeup, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. Oliver could be so possessive at times, and I didn't understand why. I was his, completely and utterly. No other man could turn my head.
I applied my makeup lightly, knowing it would probably melt off by the time I came home. That was when Oliver loved me best—when I was sweaty and softened after hours on the dance floor or at the gym.
As I finished getting ready, I thought about the night ahead. It was a celebration, a last hurrah before becoming Mrs. Fox. Despite Oliver's possessiveness, I knew he trusted me.
And as much as I looked forward to the party, I couldn't wait to see him at the end of the night, to feel his arms around me, knowing that I was his and he was mine…forever.
When I emerged from the bathroom, he was seated on the bed, dressed to perfection in black jeans, a lavender dress shirt, and a black tie. He looked irresistible, but with the limo arriving in ten minutes, there was no time to indulge my desire.
"Vlad’s on his way to pick up Lisa and Diane," I informed him as I adjusted my dress. "Laura’s close to Sadie, so I’ll be the last one he gets."
“Lisa and Diane are staying at The Diamond Square?” Oliver asked, smoothing his tie.
"Yes, you were very generous to rent them a suite," I replied, glancing at the clock.
“Where are we meeting up, and what time?” he inquired.
“I thought it was at Ceiling?”
“Just confirming. What time?”
“Around midnight, I guess. We’re stopping at Show Me Yours first, then heading to Balance.”
He tapped out a message on his phone. “Stay with Brenda and Raquel. They’ll meet you in front of Show Me Yours.”
“Fine,” I said, annoyance in my tone.
“Ryleigh, I’m sorry you need security, but it’s for your own good.”
“And to make sure no one touches me,” I added, slipping on my shoes.
“That wouldn’t happen even without security. My staff would handle it,” he said, a protective edge to his voice.
“Of course.”
“Don’t give me attitude. I want you safe.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, heading for the door.
Before I could leave, Oliver was on his feet, swiftly scooping me up and carrying me back to the bed. He dropped me onto the mattress, his lips crashing against mine. I struggled, but it was futile. His touch made me weak, submissive. When he pulled back, I was breathless, my body heating up, nipples straining against my dress.
“Do you need a preview of tonight?” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.
“I already know,” I choked out.
Oliver smirked, removing my shoes and positioning me so my legs hung off the bed. He folded up my dress, revealing my barely-there panties.
“We don’t have time,” I protested weakly.
“I can make you come quickly.”
With that, he pressed his tongue against my clit, the mesh of my panties adding to the friction. My protests dissolved into whimpers as he teased me relentlessly. My orgasm hit just as my phone chirped with an incoming text. Oliver held my thighs down, prolonging my pleasure, before finally releasing me. He wiped his mouth, straightened his tie, and glanced at my phone.
“Miss Stewart, your ride is here.”
“Christ, why do you always do this to me?” I panted, struggling to calm myself.
“Because it gives me pleasure to give you pleasure. Now I have your taste in my mouth for the evening.”
He helped me up, holding me steady as I slipped on my shoes.
“I need to fix my lip gloss.”
I went to the mirror, reapplying my lip gloss and adjusting my dress. Before leaving, I blew a kiss to Oliver, who watched me with a satisfied smile.
“See you tonight,” he called as I left the room, anticipation buzzing in the air.
The entire VIP section was reserved just for us. We had our own bar, waitress, and club security. My chest pulsed with the music, the beat shaking the walls. The place was packed below, a sea of bodies moving to the rhythm, and I wondered if we'd find a spot to dance. Multi-colored lights flashed around the club at a frenetic pace, like lasers slicing through the darkness.
"This place is awesome!" Laura screamed over the music. Her excitement was infectious, her blonde hair bouncing as she spoke. "I’ve tried to get in before, but the line was around the block."
"Next time, let me know. I can get you in with one phone call," I replied, leaning in to be heard.
She arched an eyebrow at me. "How?"
"Oliver owns this place and a few others around the city," I explained, enjoying the surprise on her face.
Laura's eyes widened as she bounced excitedly in her seat, her short red skirt shifting to reveal her taut upper thighs. "Which ones?"
"Club North, Balance, and Ceiling. We’re meeting the guys at Ceiling around midnight."
"Oh my God, that’s another place I can never get into."
"Stick with me, kid," I said with a grin.
Just then, the waitress arrived with a bottle of Dom Perignon in a silver bucket of ice, placing crystal glasses on the table. She expertly popped the cork, and the champagne fizzed as we poured it into our glasses. Sadie picked hers up and made a toast.
“To one of the most wonderful women I know. Let’s have a blast tonight.”
We clinked glasses and drank. The champagne was delicious, but I wanted something stronger. I signaled the waitress for a rum and coke. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Brenda and Raquel watching me intently. A pang of suspicion hit me—were they reporting back to Oliver?
Ignoring the uneasy feeling, I turned to Laura. "Ready to dance?"
She nodded eagerly, and we made our way down to the dance floor. The crowd parted slightly as we descended, the music growing louder, the lights more intense. The energy was electric, and I felt a thrill of excitement as we found a spot and started moving to the beat.
Laura leaned in close, her voice barely audible over the music. "I can’t believe how amazing this is! You’re like a VIP magnet."
I laughed, feeling the buzz of the champagne and the rush of the night. "Welcome to my world."
As we danced, I could feel eyes on us, but I pushed the thoughts of Brenda and Raquel aside. Tonight was about fun, freedom, and living in the moment. And I intended to do just that, with or without Oliver's watchful gaze.
Two hours later, I was hot, sweaty, and tipsy from the champagne and rum and cokes. As we entered Ceiling, I almost tripped, but Brenda grabbed me just in time. We were escorted up to the VIP section again, which was empty except for Oliver and his friends.
Oliver looked so good, and a wave of overwhelming love—or maybe it was just horniness—swept over me. His little appetizer earlier had only intensified my craving for him. My eyes flicked to the mirror above the DJ deck, almost positive his office was there. When I looked back, he was watching me. He stood up and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.
"We need to talk," he said quietly, so the others couldn't hear.
"What did I do now?" I sighed.
"My office."
"But my friends?—"
We both glanced over. My friends were already mingling with Oliver's on the black banquettes. Sadie was kissing Finley, and Laura seemed cozy with Ivan.
"Your friends are fine. They won't even know you're gone."
He led me down the stairs to a door beside the DJ deck. He punched a code into the keypad, and it opened into a darkened hallway. The music thumped in my ears, growing slightly fainter as Oliver closed the door behind us.
"Where are we?" I asked.
He flicked a switch, illuminating a set of wooden stairs in front of us. "This leads up to my office."
"I want to dance," I protested.
"I think you want something more," he replied, his voice low and confident.
"I don’t want anything but to have a good time," I insisted.
"Oh, you will have a good time," he promised.
"With my friends, Oliver."
"The minute you walked up the stairs to the VIP area, I knew."
I shivered. "Knew what?"
"That you wanted me. I've seen that look in your eyes so many times. You're just the way I want you—sweaty and needy. I bet you'll come the minute you feel my cock inside you."
"Oh God, you think I want sex?"
He grabbed my hand and led me upstairs to a thick wooden door with a keypad like the one below. He punched in the code, and it opened. Inside was a large desk, much like the one at Show Me Yours.
There was a small couch with a chaise, and when he turned on the blue ceramic lamp, I saw it was beige. He reached into a small refrigerator near the desk and handed me a bottle of water.
"Drink," he said, watching me intently.
I took the bottle, my hands trembling slightly, and sipped the cold water. Oliver moved closer, his eyes never leaving mine. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch sending shivers down my spine.
"You're driving me crazy," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin.
"I can't help it," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
"I know," he said, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. "And that's exactly why I can't wait any longer."
He leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. My resolve melted away as his hands roamed over my body, igniting a fire that had been smoldering all night. Oliver lifted me onto the desk, his touch urgent and demanding. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, craving the connection I had denied myself for too long.
"Oliver," I moaned as he kissed down my neck, his hands sliding under my dress.
"I told you," he whispered against my skin. "You're mine tonight."
The world outside his office faded away as we lost ourselves in each other, the music and lights of the club a distant memory.
“I’m going to strip you naked and fuck you against the window.”
I groaned. “I’m not in the mood.”
Oliver untangled himself from me and took me by the elbow to the window that overlooked the DJ deck. Down below, the DJ was dancing around with headphones on while he tapped on his computer keyboard. Immediately the music changed.
“You can see the whole club from up here,” I muttered.
Oliver grinned. “Yes, you can. How scandalous to have sex in front of the entire club when they have no idea. They won’t know what’s going on behind this glass.”
He pressed his body against mine, rubbing his hips on my ass. I could feel his rock-hard erection and it made me hot, so hot. He was right, the way I felt, I would come the minute he entered me. Oliver grasped the hem of my dress and hiked it up to my waist.
“Let’s take these panties off. I bet your pussy is soaked.”
“It’s not,” I lied.
“Let’s see.”
I clenched my thighs together, but Oliver was too strong, slipping his hand between them and touching my most intimate place.
“Just as I thought. How long have you wanted me tonight?” he asked, desire lacing his voice.
There was no use lying. Oliver was wise to me. “Since before I left the penthouse.”
“You should’ve let me fuck you then,” he said, smirking. “But then again, I prefer you this way, all raw and sweaty. God, Ryleigh, I can never get enough of you.”
I let him undress me until I was wearing nothing but my heels. He was still fully dressed except his tie was loosened.
“Aren’t you getting undressed?” I squeaked.
“No. I said I wanted to strip you naked. I didn’t say anything about me being naked. Turn around.”
I turned and Oliver took my hand in his. “Unzip me.”
I did as he requested, and he unbuttoned his jeans to reveal he wasn’t wearing underwear. I wondered when he took them off since I saw him put on black boxers before he got dressed. I fisted him, gently stroking. His cock was like hot velvet in my hand. He pushed his jeans down his hips and lifted me up in his arms.
I felt the cool glass against my back as he placed me against it and effortlessly slipped inside me. I locked my ankles around him as he fucked me, thrusting upward. It only took two strokes and I exploded, moaning his name loudly. I was thankful for the pounding of the music so no one could hear me. I went lax in Oliver’s arms, and he held me but stayed inside.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
I looked at him to see the irises of his eyes were barely visible as they dilated with desire. He grasped my ass and began to pump inside me to the rhythm of the music. I felt him lengthen and thicken against my walls. He was close to coming but he held off, grunting my name as he fucked me senseless. I came again almost without warning and set him off.
The mind-numbing orgasm dulled my senses and I was unaware of how many spurts he pumped into me before he stilled. Oliver carried me over to the couch and sat down while holding me in his arms. He rocked me and placed kisses over my sweaty face.
“You’re beautiful,” Oliver whispered, his eyes locked onto mine.
“You’re out of your mind. I’m afraid to look in the mirror,” I replied, feeling self-conscious.
“I want to take you home. I don’t want to share you anymore,” he said, his voice filled with longing.
“We have guests,” I reminded him.
“Alcohol is free, and they don’t need us. We can say our goodbyes and go home. I want to enjoy the weekend with you. I know I’m going to be miserable in the coming days.”
I regretted my decision to abstain from sex until our wedding night. It was hard enough to last a couple of days when Oliver went on business trips without me. Now I was pledging to hold off for almost a week? I must have been out of my mind.
“You’re not the only one,” I admitted.
“But you’re the one who made the rule,” he pointed out.
“You could’ve said no,” I said.
He chuckled. “Right. You’re not easy to argue with.”
“I’ll make it so worth it.”
“I have no doubt, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be miserable without you next to me.”
“And so will I. The week will go faster than you think. I’m nervous,” I confessed, my voice softening.
“Don’t be. I’ll be right by your side. I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he said, his eyes filled with sincerity.
I felt him shifting beneath me, and I moved off his lap, feeling like a mess. Oliver must have sensed my thoughts.
“There’s a bathroom in the corner. It has a shower stall if you want to take one,” he suggested.
I snorted. “You think I want our friends to know what we’ve been doing?”
“You think they don’t already?” he replied with a chuckle.
My face heated, a flush creeping up my neck. “Shut up. I don’t want them to know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re practically married, and that’s what married people do.”
“Some married people don’t,” I muttered.
“That won’t be us. We’ll always be physical with each other, even when we’re eighty.”
I smirked. “Newsflash, you’ll be eighty before I will.”
“And we’ll still be having sex.”
I shook my head, standing up and heading to the bathroom. Inside was a modest three-piece setup with a black granite vanity, a glass-enclosed shower stall, and a white toilet. I found towels in a small closet next to the sink.
I tried to avoid my full reflection, rubbing at some of the black marks under my eyes but gave up quickly. My makeup was a mess, and I looked like a raccoon. But Oliver didn’t care, and we were going home in a few minutes. I would shower there.
When I came out, he was holding my dress in his hands, but I didn’t see my panties anywhere. I went to the window and looked on the floor for them.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Looking for my panties.”
Oliver smirked. “You won’t need them. We’re going home.”
“Where are they?”
He patted his pocket. “A memento of our time spent.”
I rolled my eyes. “You have me and your memories. Can I have my panties please?”
“No. They’re not necessary.”
I shook my head and went to him. He helped me dress, giving my nipples a final suck before I pulled the dress over my head. When I was all tucked in, he stroked my face with his knuckles before we exited the room.
Half our friends were in the VIP section enjoying free drinks and the other half were down on the dance floor. It looked like Laura and Ivan were getting very cozy on the couch. I’d forgotten to tell her he was a player and I hoped she wouldn’t get hurt. I noticed Finley and Sadie weren’t there.
“Where were you two?” Wilmer asked with a grin on his face. I wanted to smack him because I was pretty sure he knew exactly where we were and what we were doing.
“I wanted to show Ryleigh my office,” Oliver said.
“Sure you did,” he chuckled.
“We’re leaving, but everyone is welcome to free drinks and food if you want.”
“But it’s your party,” Matthew argued.
“I’m tired, and so is Ryleigh. We have a lot to do this weekend. We need to finish the seating charts tomorrow and that will take time.”
I knew Oliver was lying. We had finished the charts the weekend before and I was glad it was finished. Everything for our wedding was completed. He had his tux, and I had my dress which was at Finley and Sadie’s apartment where we would all get dressed.
We said our goodbyes and headed down the stairs just as the rest of our wedding party was coming up. We let them know we were leaving and hurried out of the club with Brenda and Raquel in tow. They sat inside the limo while Vlad drove us home. I wished we were alone.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” Oliver asked as I rested my head on his shoulder.
“Yes, it was fun. Not as much fun as spending the night with you.”
He kissed me on the top of my head and put his arm around me. By the time we pulled up to our building, I was sleepy. Oliver helped me out of the limo, giving instructions to the security staff for the upcoming week, and we headed upstairs. The first thing I wanted to do was shower. I felt sweaty and sticky since I didn’t do a very good job cleaning myself after we had sex.
Trouble greeted us, wagging his little stump tail. I bent down to pet him, and he tried to lick my face.
“Can you let him out? I want to shower,” I asked Oliver.
“I’ll take care of it. He seems to be enjoying the grass,” Oliver replied.
A couple of weeks ago, Oliver had grass planted on part of the patio. It was thick and green. We trained Trouble to go in one spot, so his mess wasn’t all over the place. He loved to go out there and roll around. I heard the slider open as I walked to the bedroom.
The hot spray of the shower cascaded over my skin, washing away the day's grime and makeup. As I stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself, I caught sight of Oliver leaning against the doorframe. His eyes smoldered as they traveled the length of my body, igniting a familiar heat within me.
"Enjoy your shower?" Oliver asked, voice low and husky. He held out my pink robe, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
I couldn't help but notice he was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers - the same ones I'd seen him take off earlier. "Did you go commando for a particular reason tonight?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
Oliver's smirk widened. "I think you know why."
"To seduce me?" I challenged, stepping closer.
He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "Sweetheart, you were ready for me long before any seduction."
I playfully swatted his arm. "You always push the envelope, don't you?"
"After a year together, that shouldn't surprise you," Oliver murmured, his fingers trailing along my collarbone. "I like to keep things... interesting."
As I slipped on my robe, I turned to the mirror, wiping away steam to inspect my face. Oliver came up behind me, nuzzling my cheek. "You're beautiful like this," he whispered. "Clean, natural, just you."
I giggled, leaning back into his chest. "So, you love me sweaty, clean, made-up, bare faced... why don't you just admit you love me, period?"
"I do," Oliver said, his arms encircling my waist. "I'll take you any way I can get you."
A thought occurred to me, and I turned in his embrace, my tone a mix of teasing and vulnerability. "Even when I'm pregnant and fat?"
Oliver's eyes softened, a tender smile replacing his earlier smirk. "That's when you'll be the most desirable."
"Why is that?" I asked, genuinely curious.
His hand splayed across my stomach. "Because you'll be carrying our child. A part of both of us."
I placed my hand over his. "And I bet you'll be even more protective then."
"It's who I am," Oliver said, his voice taking on a serious edge. "I need to keep you safe."
A chill ran down my spine, remembering. "I haven't seen that man again."
Oliver's jaw tightened. "We still don't know who he is or what he wants. If he shows up again..."
"Maybe he's just a harmless stalker?" I suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
"There's no such thing as harmless when it comes to you," Oliver growled. "We've been in the papers. Some people can't separate fantasy from reality."
I traced the worry lines on his forehead. "I'm sure you've had your share of admirers, Mr. Eligible Bachelor."
Oliver caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "None that mattered. Not until you."
"And if we hadn't crossed paths at work?" I asked, curious.
A mischievous glint appeared in Oliver's eyes. "I would have found you. Asked you out."
I laughed, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in my next question. "How? Would you have stalked me?"
Oliver's grip on me tightened ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. "If that's what it took to make you mine. You forget I have a security team that can track people.”
“Like Jonah?” I asked.
Oliver's eyes darkened as he leaned against the bathroom counter. "Jonah is a ghost," he said, his voice low and intense. "No credit cards, no bank accounts, no job. Nothing to trace."
I felt a chill run down my spine. "So, you'd use those things to track me?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light despite the unease settling in my stomach.
A smirk played at the corner of Oliver's mouth. "I didn't have to," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You made it easy by working in my building. All I had to do was ask you out."
I swallowed hard, trying to redirect the conversation. "Have you heard anything about Jonah?"
Oliver's jaw tightened. "Nothing. He's vanished, clearly doesn't want to be found. I can't force him out of hiding. All I can do is hope he comes to his senses."
"And then what?" I pressed, searching his face for answers.
He shrugged, a calculated nonchalance in his movements. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." His eyes suddenly glinted with mischief. "Now, do you want to keep talking about my brother, or would you prefer... another activity?"
Heat rose to my cheeks. "What did you have in mind?"
"Follow me," Oliver said, his voice a low command that sent shivers down my spine.
As we walked, I couldn't help but tease, "I hope you're not thinking about the kitchen counter. That granite is too cold."
Oliver stopped abruptly, turning to face me with an arched eyebrow. "Ryleigh, what exactly do you think I'm planning?"
I felt my face flush further. "I thought... never mind."
Oliver's deep chuckle reverberated through the hallway as we entered the kitchen. On the granite island sat a tray with a gleaming silver dome.
"What's this?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"You're hungry, aren't you?" Oliver's voice was rich with promise.
I hesitated. "Yes, but it's late. I shouldn't eat too much."
With a flourish, Oliver lifted the cover, revealing six black truffle sliders nestled beside a golden mound of pomme frites. The aroma hit me like a wave, and I couldn't stifle my groan of appreciation.
"Oh God, those look sinful," I breathed.
Oliver's eyes sparkled. "I thought we'd indulge in a little midnight feast before bed."
"It's well past midnight," I pointed out, even as I reached for a slider.
"Then consider it our 2 a.m. indulgence," Oliver purred, grabbing a burger and taking a massive bite. His eyes closed in bliss as he savored the flavors.
As I picked up my own slider, I felt a familiar bump against my legs. Trouble, had silently padded into the kitchen, drawn by the tantalizing scent. I tore off a small piece of meat, offering it to him. Trouble snatched it delicately, his rough tongue licking my fingers clean.
“Don’t feed him this late,” Oliver said.
“Why not? We’re eating this late.”
“You spoil him too much.”
“I love him. Why, are you jealous? I promise there’s plenty of me to go around.”
“How ridiculous to be jealous of a dog.”
“He’s ours. I know you love him too.”
I took a dainty bite of my burger and chewed it slowly. The meat was so tender it practically melted in my mouth. We gorged ourselves, Oliver eating four of the six burgers and most of the fries. I was stuffed when we finished.
“I think I’m done for the night.”
Oliver gave me a devilish grin. “Are you sure?”
“It’s almost 3 a.m. I am very sure.”