Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jason
Fuming, I stood in front of Olive’s old roommate
and ex-boyfriend, trying my best to not deck the guy.
“Get me Olive,” I growled for the second
time.
“She is not in a state to see you right now,
man. I suggest you come back in the morning.” He tried to close the door in my
face.
I had come home late, only to find an empty
bottle of champagne and Olive’s laptop next to the pool, but no Olive.
When I’d tried to call her, I found her
phone in her own room right across from mine. Worried out of my mind, I’d gone
through her phone, called her friend Lucy, and learned that she was at their
place.
I hit the door with my palm and forced him
to open it. “Olive,” I yelled into the apartment. Instead of Olive coming out,
a sleepy-eyed Lucy appeared behind the douchebag.
“What’s going on here? Jason? Are you here
to get Olive?”
“Yes,” I gritted through my teeth, keeping
my eyes on Marcus. “Can you tell her that I’m here?”
Grabbing on to Marcus’ arm, Lucy tried to
pull him back, but he wasn’t budging. That son of a bitch had his eyes on me,
too.
“Have you lost your mind, Marcus? He is her
husband for god’s sake.”
He gave an unamused laugh. “As if I would
believe that was true after the way she came here.”
My eyes flew to Lucy’s with a different
kind of worry. “Is Olive okay? Did something happen?”
“As if you care about her,” Marcus spat.
Lucy’s face softened. “She is fine, Jason.
She just drank a little too much. She is sleeping it off, that’s why I said on
the phone that you could come and get her in the morning.”
Fed up with the idiot, I bulldozed my way
into their apartment.
“Hey!” he yelled after me.
Just come at me boy,
I thought.
Come at me so I can take it out on you
.
“Where is she?” I asked, looking at Lucy.
Charlotte, the other roommate, was watching
everything unfold calmly in front of an open doorway. I took a step toward her
and she shook her head. “She is sleeping in Marcus’ room.”
I whirled on Marcus, my patience completely
gone. “You son of a bitch! Did you touch her?!”
“What do you care? You’re nothing to her.” He
raised his voice and puffed up his chest, coming toward me. Before I could
reach him and mess up his pretty little face, Lucy grabbed my forearm.
“Stop it, both of you! He didn’t, Jason. Jeez.”
She shot an annoyed look at Marcus. “No one did. I was sleeping next to her.
Come on,” she explained in a rush and pulled me toward another closed door.
My hands were itching to lay it on the guy,
but I let Lucy’s small frame pull me away from him.
I entered the room after her and saw Olive
sleeping in the middle of the bed, her legs pulled up into her stomach. All my
anger melted off me and my heart settled down. I would have to sit down and
think about what that meant.
Putting one knee on the bed, I slid my arms
under her back and knees and lifted her up in my arms as gently as possible. I
took a deep breath and caught her beautiful scent.
Her eyes blinked open and a sweet smile
spread across her face. “Jason,” she mumbled quietly. She rested her head
against my chest and closed her eyes again.
She reeked of alcohol.
I cleared my throat to soften my tone. “It’s
me, sweetheart. I’m taking you home.”
“I don’t wanna go,” she murmured. “We were
having sex.” She looped her arms around my neck more securely and pushed her
face farther into my neck.
My body responded to her scent as it always
seemed to do lately, but I shook it off.
Not here.
My frown back in place, my gaze snapped
back to Lucy to see her barely holding back her laughter.
“What the hell is she talking about?” I
forced out with a growl.
“Nothing, nothing,” she said hurriedly.
“I’m assuming she was dreaming of you two having sex. She was blubbering about
honeymoons on her way over here.”
What?
“Oh.”
Well, ok then.
Carrying her back to the living room, I saw
Marcus waiting in front of the door, his hands crossed against his chest, his
face dark with anger.
“Don’t you
ever
get in my way
again,” I said in a low voice when I paused next to him.
“I don’t care who the hell you are, but
when you end this charade and leave her in a mess, I’ll be the one taking care
of her.”
Lucy reached around him and opened the door
for me, but I couldn’t move from my spot. I was on the edge, having trouble
just letting him go without doing some damage.
“You should take Olive home, Jason,” Lucy
said, still holding the door open for us. “She is shivering.” I looked down at
Olive and saw that her arms were covered in goose bumps.
Not meeting Marcus’ gaze again, I said a
quick thank you to Lucy and drove back home as fast as I could so I could get
Olive back in her bed, where she belonged.
***
Parking my car in the garage, I rested against
my seat and let out a deep breath. Olive was curled up next to me, snoring
softly. Rounding the car, I opened the door and called her name.
“Olive, we’re home. Wake up sweetheart.”
“Go away,” she mumbled without even opening
her eyes, keeping her back turned to me.
“Olive, baby, can you help me so we can get
in the house and go to bed?”
No answer.
Ok then…
I leaned down and carefully cradled her in
my arms again. She didn’t even hesitate to put her arms around my neck and
snuggle closer.
“You’re so warm,” she mumbled, her lips
moving in a soft caress against the skin of my neck, causing me to grind my
teeth together to keep myself from moaning or worse… A moment later, she fell
asleep in my arms.
Getting a barely conscious Olive back in
the house proved to be harder than I’d thought it would be. When I finally did
manage to get us inside without any permanent damage, I faltered between the
doors of our rooms. I should’ve put her on her own bed, but I wanted to keep an
eye on her throughout the night, just in case she got worse. From what I could
smell, she’d had more than just a bottle of champagne on her own.
When I put her on my bed, she didn’t even
open her eyes to see where she was. I reached out and switched on the small
bedside lamp just so I could see if she was all right. The soft yellow light
illuminated the room and helped me to see Olive’s face more clearly. My eyes
fell on her clothes, and I tried to decide if I should take them off. Deciding
against it pretty quickly, I rubbed the back of my neck and let her be, heading
to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
I returned to the room and found her trying
to unbutton her jeans and not doing a very good job of it, though she had been
successful with taking of her shirt—thankfully, her bra was still on. It was
another lacy number where I could see through and make out her aroused nipples,
but at that point anything was better than nothing.
“Olive, stop.” I hurried to her side and
put my hand on hers. “Stop.”
A small line appeared between her brows and
she squinted at me. “Hot. I want it off.” For good measure, she kicked her legs
and fumbled with the fly of her jeans.
I slapped my palm on my forehead and turned
off the light before I reached for her jeans.
As my fingers made contact with her soft
skin of her stomach, a tingle went through my spine and I had to close my eyes.
My dick twitched in my briefs, cursing me.
I wholeheartedly agreed.
Now that she had decided to be helpful, she
tilted up her hips into my hands and helped me ease the jeans off down her
legs. I kept my eyes away from her body the whole time. To stay busy, I turned
my back to her, folded her jeans, and put them on my dresser. Then I reached
for the shirt she had thrown right across the room and folded that too.
When I faced the bed, I could easily make
out Olive’s form lying on her face right in the middle. Her panties were white
lace too. They looked wonderful on her full, rounded ass. Nothing flat on my
Olive. Nothing whatsoever.
For a moment, when I could finally peel my
eyes away from her ass, I wondered if she enjoyed sleeping sprawled across the
bed just to torture me, because it sure seemed like she did. I picked up an old
shirt of mine from my closet to put on her. As hot as she seemed to think the
room was, I didn’t think she would be very happy to find herself in just her
underwear when she woke up.
It wouldn’t hurt me to have her covered up
either.
Bringing back a glass of water from the
kitchen, I woke her up so she could take a few sips. Instead of taking the
glass from my hands, she closed her own over mine and drank it all in a few big
gulps, all the while grumbling to herself.
As soon as she was done, she plopped onto
the pillows again. After struggling with the covers, I managed to pull the
shirt over her and sighed in relief.
That wasn’t so hard now was it?
Getting into bed was much easier for me. I
made sure to stay on the far side of the bed and kept my eyes on Olive to make
sure she was still breathing. I must have fallen asleep because I jolted awake
when I felt Olive’s hair tickling my arm. When I looked down she was lying half
over me and…was she…rubbing herself on my leg?
Christ!
I groaned and reached down to grab her
thigh, but in a maneuver you wouldn’t expect from a drunk she had managed to
climb onto my stomach.
“Olive,” I hissed when I felt the dampness
of her underwear on my lower stomach. Her eyes half open, she glanced down at
me and drowsily asked, “Are we having sexy yet?”
Despite the dangerous situation I had found
myself in, I chuckled and then let it turn into a groan when Olive’s hips
started to move over me. I tightened my fingers on her thighs and stopped her.
If she did another downward move, my dick would be in hot water.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
“I wanna consummate now.”
I groaned louder and closed my eyes so I
could focus for a second. Olive’s small hands landed on my chest and she
started to bunch up my shirt. “Off,” she ordered.
“Nothing is coming off,” I said, finally
coming to my senses and gently tipping her off my body and back onto the bed.
Instead of fighting me on it like I expected her to, she sighed and muttered,
“I need it.” Then she started to lift off her own shirt.
I gripped the hem and pulled it down. “Your
clothes are staying on too, Olive.”
“But I want it so much, Jason.” She looked
at me in the dark, her eyes glazed and her forehead puckered. Her hands let go
of the shirt and found their way to my lips, then my cheeks. “I used to love
watching you smile,” she whispered, half closing her eyes as if she was
imagining our childhood. Her face took on a wistful expression. “I used to look
at you when I was sure no one would notice and just wait for it to appear. Your
dimple, I mean. It made me so giddy. Will you show it to me, now? Lucy said I
should lick it.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Can I?”
Shaking my head, I smiled. “Sweetheart, you
are drunk. How about we go to sleep?”
She huffed and punched the mattress
lightly. “But I want…”
“What do you want?” I asked distractedly as
I brushed away the strands of hair she was trying to blow away from her face.
“I want Jason.” She uttered the words so
softly and in such a way that it reminded me of a girl making a birthday wish,
eyes closing tightly just before blowing out all the candles. Such an innocent
and simple wish, yet all the more powerful to render someone speechless.
Then just like that, a switch went off and
her voice turned husky. “I want to come.” Whimpering softly, she lifted her
hips off the bed.
“Olive, you have no idea what you’re
saying. Let’s go to sleep so you can sober up, okay?”
“Can you give me my toy, Jason who is not
Jason? I really need it.” Before I could ask what the hell she was talking
about she grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand into her underwear.
Death.
Pure, sweet death.
I was going to burn in flames, both in hell
and in life.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe
through it, but it only made matters worse when I inhaled in her scent. Don’t
judge me—I did try to pull my hand away, but she was faster than me, and before
I could react she flattened her hand over mine.
“I’m soaked,” she moaned as she started to
touch herself with my fingers.
“Olive,” I hissed when I felt her wetness
all over my fingers. “Olive, please stop.” I tried to pull my hand away, but
she held on to my wrist with her free hand to make sure it stayed where it was.
Pushing my forehead against her temple, I
whispered. “Olive, you’re killing me, sweetheart. Please, let my hand go.”
God.
Her legs fell open and she pushed one of my
fingers firmer against her clit.
Her scent was driving me crazy, her soft
panting reaching right down to my dick as if she had her mouth wrapped around
me. Pulling my hips back just in case she decided to go for my sweatpants and got
ideas because I was hard as a rock, I jerked my hand away from her wetness
before she could stop me again and brushed a kiss on her temple.
“You’re still drunk, Olive. You don’t know
what you’re doing.”
Unexpectedly, she fully turned to me and
buried her face against my throat, her weight forcing me to fall on my back.
When I felt a wetness on my skin, I held her jaw back and looked at her face.
To my utter shock, she was silently crying.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked, clearing her
tears with my thumbs.
Her beautiful eyes met mine and she broke
my heart into very, very small pieces. “I just want to consummate so they won’t
take him away from me.” She sniffled and hid her face against my neck again.
Jesus. How could she still be drunk off her
ass? Exactly what had she had while I was gone, and for how long?
“Baby,” I whispered, trying to calm her
down.
I knew this wasn’t my Olive talking, but if
she hadn’t been so drunk, we could’ve…hell…done something about this. Talk?
Fuck? Whatever she needed.
“Can I have my toy now?” she asked, still
sniffling.
Goddamnit!
Maybe she slept with a stuffed toy or
something?
I had my fingers crossed, but…
“Is this toy you’re asking for…is it something
you use to make yourself come, sweetheart?”
Her tear-filled eyes met mine as she nodded
and nibbled on her bottom lip.
There was no way I was going through her
stuff to find a plastic dick. There was also no way in hell I was letting
myself have her, no matter how much my dick disagreed with me.
“Open your legs, sweetheart,” I whispered finally.
If she could have the orgasm she was clearly desperate for, maybe she would go
to sleep.
When she let them fall open and got more
comfortable on the bed, I lifted her leg and put it in between my thighs,
holding her open for me. My hand would be the only thing she would get tonight,
but it would be more than enough to satisfy her.
I placed my hand on her stomach and she
moaned, arching into my touch. She was killing me—a slow, beautiful death, but
a death nonetheless. I whispered encouragements into her ear and she relaxed
further into the mattress.
“After you get what you need, you’re going
to sleep, okay?”
She nodded readily. I took a deep breath, only
to pull her scent in deeper.
Swirling my finger around her clit, I
watched her thrash under my touch, moaning and whimpering.
My dick throbbed in my pants, dying to get
out and play with her. I closed my eyes and focused on her soft, wet skin.
Every now and then, I stopped touching her, dragged my wet fingers up against
her stomach, and watched her lift up her hips to have my finger back. I was
fascinated by every move she was making.
When I was getting close to losing my mind,
I stroked and caressed her faster, my fingers firm against her clit. That
seemed to turn her on even more and she moaned louder, begging me for more.
“Shhh, sweetheart. I got you.”
“Jason,” she whispered in between her
moans. My name spilling out of her lips was like a caress on my pounding heart.
I moaned next to her ear and watched her
body tremble.
“Is this what you needed, baby?” I
whispered back.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Good,” I mumbled. I pressed a kiss on her
temple.
When her hand reached out and clamped down on
my thigh, her fingers digging in so close to my dick, I groaned and watched her
lose herself in her orgasm as her cries almost pushed me over the edge, too.
She tried to close her legs on me, but I pushed them apart again and kept
stroking her until she calmed down and started to whimper sweetly.
Pulling my hand out of her underwear, I
brushed another lingering kiss on her temple and let her curl into me as she
tried to catch her breath. Soon, her breathing evened out and she fell asleep
in my arms.
It had been a long time since I’d felt the
way Olive was making me feel
—if
there had ever been a time...
I’d missed something. I’d missed what was
happening between us. She wasn’t Dylan’s sister in my eyes any more. She was my
little one, just like the very first day we’d met. And now she was my wife.
Every time she looked into my eyes with her
heart wide open, she was pulling me in deeper. As much as this whole thing had
started as a charade, I didn’t know if I would be able to let her go when the
time came.
I curled myself around her small frame and
tucked her closer against my burning body. It wasn’t enough. Slipping my arm
under her head, I pulled one of her legs over my thigh and made sure she would
stay just like that.
With a soft smile on my face, I whispered,
“Sweet dreams, wife.”
It took a moment for that single word to
hit me in the gut.
It took another to feel how right it
sounded.
It was a shame she wouldn’t remember
anything past the point of me carrying her into her new home when she woke up
the next morning.