OLIVIA WAS PROBABLY the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. She wasn’t what I pictured when Walker said he’d hired someone to mentor me. Her perfectly styled brown waves fell on either side of her centre parting and hung over the swell of her breasts. Her lips were bow-shaped, yet bottom heavy. And her eyes were such a unique shade of blue that they almost looked silver. And I was envious. Envious that someone could be born with genes like that and look like a supermodel. And it wasn’t just me who thought she was gorgeous.
We were seated in the lobby, a square room that stood in the second section of the building, just off to the side of the gym. It was a place for both the fighters and the staff to interact. To socialise so everyone could feel like they were one big family. And Hudson, well, he couldn’t stop looking over at Olivia. His eyes were practically glued to her face.
“Do you have any previous experience in social media management?” she asked me.
“No, this will be the first time. Unless you include the time I spend browsing socials on my phone, but I’m guessing that’s not what you mean.”
She smiled, and woah, I couldn’t fault Hudson for staring. It seemed I had a total girl crush.
“No, that’s what I would call experience. It helps to know your way around socials. I think it’s best to focus our attention on Facebook and Instagram for the time being, and we can work The Lagoon up to a social media presence on other apps once we’ve built that initial following.”
“Seems easy,” I hummed.
“This part is easy. But technically, we’re jumping ahead of what you should be focusing on purely because it seems too good of an opportunity to miss with the event happening Friday. But it’s cool; we’ll have plenty of time to get you where you need to be for every assessment Duke will carry out.”
I was about to respond but became distracted when Noah stepped into the room, his eyes going to Hudson, then to us, then back to Hudson. “Hudson, a word.”
Olivia lowered her eyes when she caught Hudson’s smirk, then a moment later, he was following Noah out of the room.
“Do you two know each other?” I asked. “You and Hudson?”
“Um.” With both hands, she tucked her hair behind her ears.
“We did once.” Then she lowered her hands and drummed her fingers rhythmically on the table, going straight back into work mode. “Walker said that you won’t be here tomorrow, so if we set up the basics now and create a little hype surrounding Friday’s event, you can help me continue the campaign on Thursday, which according to my calendar”—she opened up her spiral diary—“is weigh day. Perfect. We’ll be able to create momentum around the fighters and snap some images for the gram.”
Although I was excited about everything we’d planned, I stopped to ask, “Why aren’t I here tomorrow?” It was the first I’d heard of it.
“When I got all the information I needed from Walker, he also mentioned tomorrow was your birthday. That the two of you have plans?”
“We do?” I said out loud, seeming to stare at her a moment before shaking myself out of a stupor. “Right. We do,” I agreed falsely.
I slid my phone from my pocket, opened my texts, and sent Walker a message. Since when do we have plans for my birthday?
He replied in an instant. Did I forget to mention it?
Though I was grateful I’d be celebrating my birthday, I rolled my eyes at his lack of communication. I wish you’d have told me. It would have been nice to get my hair done. Maybe buy a nice outfit. Get my nails did. You know, a lil birthday girl prep.
Ten minutes later, I received a hair and nail appointment confirmation. Noon tomorrow at Herschel Boutique with one of London’s top stylists.
Five minutes passed, and then my phone was alerting me to another message.
Aren’t you going to thank me, brat?
With warmth in my belly and a smile on my face, I texted back a heart emoji and pocketed my phone.
It wasn’t until later on that I realised he’d responded with a kiss.
WALKER
AFTER HANDING over the remainder of my to-do list to Noah and sacking off work, it was still early evening when Finley dropped both Blue and me back at the penthouse. I was lazed on the sofa, still in my shirt and trousers, while waiting for a phone call from downstairs to let me know our takeout had arrived. Chinese. Because Blue had never had the pleasure of tasting Chinese cuisine in her life, and I wanted to show her exactly what she’d been missing. I may have gone a little overboard, ordering too much off the menu, hoping we’d find something she’d enjoy. It seemed the brat was pulling strings without any inkling of the things I would do for her if she just asked. Though while I lazed, she was following my orders. I’d asked her to move her belongings from the master suite–my bedroom–into the bedroom I had made up for her. She hadn’t even seen it yet, and already she was sassing me. I’d probably have found it cute if I wasn’t itching for a drink.
“You know, a gentleman would help me move everything from one room to the other.”
“You had two suitcases when you arrived. I’m sure you can manage.” I looked at the time on my watch. Takeout would probably be another fifteen minutes at least. It would take her no more than ten. “What ever happened to you ‘wanting to do things on your own?’”
She made a noise in her throat that sounded like a hmph. “That wasn’t entirely what I meant, but whatever.”
It wasn’t whatever. But it wouldn’t hurt her to do it on her own. She was more than capable. And until she outright asked for my help, I wasn’t going to assume she needed it. Maybe I still needed her to convince me that she wasn’t a complete brat.
She disappeared down the hallway but came back into view not long after. Only this time both her hands were busy with clothes hangers pinched over her fingers. “Please, can you unlock the bedroom door?”
My lips twitched. She looked one second away from being swallowed by all the material gathered around her, her fingers losing their blood supply as she held tightly on to the metal of each hanger.
“I unlocked it before I sat down,” I replied. But because I didn’t enjoy watching her suffer, I rose from the sofa and headed towards where she stood to help her with her things. Before I reached her, she tipped one hip out to the side and pouted.
“Brat,” I murmured half-heartedly, grabbing some hangers from her before making my way down the hall and to the bedroom door. Her bedroom door.
I’d finally be getting the master suite back for myself. I should’ve felt excited about it, but a small part of me felt deflated. It was the right thing to do. And yet, I’d no longer be waking up with a mane of hair between my fingers. Or a naked leg wrapped around my thigh. Or the scent of her perfume gassing me out in the best fucking way. I was selfish. A selfish cunt who wanted to take more pleasure from something that wasn’t his to take.
I stood off to the side as I pushed open the bedroom door and allowed her to enter the room before me. Following her in, I clicked on the light switch off to the side of the door. Although there was one large glass windowpane opposite us that would let in a considerable amount of light during the day, it was currently dark out, and this side of the building overlooked another, so there wasn’t as much light outside as there happened to be in the master bedroom or the living area during the evening. The only light came from apartments lower down. And I suppose, the walls too, given that I’d asked them to be painted in a greyish blue.
The thing about stepping in after her was I couldn’t see her face. I internally cursed myself because I had no way of knowing if she liked the room and everything inside it. It wasn’t what I imagined it to be myself. But it was evidently… all her.
“Do you like it?”
I looked over her head and around the room full of all the things I’d had shipped from Miami. And then I watched as she walked over to the double bed beside the window, lined with fresh white linen and full of different coloured scatter cushions.
Once she emptied her hands of the hangers, she turned to face me. I was taken back because… she was fucking frowning. Not one sign of a smile on her face.
Immediately, I mimicked her expression.
“This is my stuff,” she stated.
I nodded.
“Like, my actual stuff.”
I nodded again. “Except for the bed–that’s new.”
She walked to the end of the bed and stroked the tips of her fingers over the hood of her yellow ottoman. While she glanced between me and the rest of her belongings, I made my way to the walk-in closet and put the clothes I was holding inside with the rest of them I had shipped from Miami. And while I was there, I took and deep breath and gathered my thoughts. She hadn’t known, but I’d agreed to it with her father and arranged a courier mid-week after I suffered sleeping beside her every night. It was a bit of a fuckery having to change the delivery address to the penthouse once the items were shipped, but money–it talks. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but she had fewer items than I imagined she would. That went for clothes, accessories, shoes, furniture. Books and wall art. It seemed Blue Sterling was a minimalist. But of the items of furniture she did own, they all happened to be colourful and buoyant.
“Perhaps you could put that ugly pink lamp somewhere in the corner,” I suggested when I walked out of the closet.
She followed my line of sight to the almost empty corner, where a green chair sat beside a white desk. “The bulletin board was my idea. I figured it may come in handy for study purposes.” I tipped my chin at the thick linen square above her desk.
“Walker.”
“Our food will be here soon, so you better get the rest of your stuff in here quick, huh?”
She smiled.
Finally.
“Nate.”
There was something about the way she said my name that made my chest yearn.
I drew my finger to the collar of my shirt and edged it away from my skin. “What?”
“Thank you. This is… was, completely unexpected.”
Before I could reply, she’d taken three steps towards me and was rising on her tiptoes, her arms encasing around my neck in an embrace. For a moment, I stood stoic, but then her fingers threaded through the hair at my nape, and I found myself wrapping my arms around her waist.
We were hugging.
Fucking hugging.
And it would have been normal if just last night she wasn’t riding my hand to the point of orgasm. If I hadn’t touched myself to my dirty pipedream of her in the shower. If her lips weren’t currently creeping closer and closer to my own.
When she brazenly kissed my mouth, and her soft, plump lips nestled against my own, I didn’t protest. Her lips lingered, and her nose brushed mine, slow and tormenting. Our heated breath spanned between us, and I knew, I just knew, she wanted me to take from her like she just took from me. To give back some of what she was giving.
So I did.
I kissed her.
She kissed me.
And we stood there, embracing as we kissed. And I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t get enough of her, and that was a big fucking problem.
When her lips grew more fierce, a low growl slipped from between my lips, and in one quick, measured movement, I gripped her hips almost too tightly and forced my tongue into her mouth. She didn’t pull away to acknowledge me with words. She responded by tangling her fingers in my hair and pushing my head lower while lifting hers higher. And with each swipe of my tongue, she drew her body to mine. We were close. Close enough I felt her nipples pert against my chest. Close enough that I had no doubt she could feel my erection grow against her stomach. Yet somehow, I wanted to be closer. I wanted inside her. I wanted inside her more than I could remember ever wanting anything else–more than I wanted a life without solitude.
My hands trailed from her hips to her denim-clad ass, where I took two needy handfuls and squeezed. A moan left her mouth, one which I swallowed as she leapt up and wrapped her legs around my waist.
It was a lot.
Too much.
Absolutely not enough.
I spun us around, planting her down on her desk before easing away. As much as I wanted her, I was getting carried away. My hands gripped the back edge of the white wood as I compelled myself not to touch her. “Fuck, why are you so hard to resist?”
She smiled again, bigger, and gripped the desk by my waist as she leant forward to chase my lips.
I pulled back. “Blue. I want you. Fuck, do I want you. But this isn’t right.” I hated what I was saying. I hated how I felt utterly sane one moment, and then the next, I felt insane. And given the email I received from James today, with him handing over The Lagoon like a father would a son, it felt like the worst kind of betrayal.
“It feels right.”
It did. In the same way it was wrong, it felt right. Despite thinking it, I couldn’t seem to deny that.
Removing one hand from the desk, I ran it up the length of her back and wove it into her hair. “We need some distance. This–last night, your father, your age.” I shook my head as the list grew, inclining her head back with the little grip I had on her hair. I wasn’t able to articulate everything I wanted to say, nor the realness of how I felt. I’d never been one to speak so freely when it came to my feelings, but on the other hand, I’d not once in my whole fucking life been stumped for words.
She pouted, but in the same second, the light in her eyes dimmed, and she dropped her chin. “I get it.”
“You do?”
I didn’t get it. I didn’t get why I was lusting over her or why things felt different with her than with my wife of eleven years. A kiss was a kiss. A fuck was a fuck. I didn’t care for women above that. I didn’t care because I’d witnessed how love ruined people and how easy love could be taken away.
Still, when she nodded and looked up at me with those blue-green eyes that could easily break hearts and said, “Yep,” I didn’t question it.
It was me who put a stop to it. And for once, she didn’t sass me. She just accepted it, dropping her chin as I loosened my grip on her hair. And then, with no time to think about how I’d ease us back into who we were before the kiss, my phone rang from the pocket of my trousers.
“Chinese.”
Maybe it was perfect timing.
The distraction we both needed.
An out of an awkward conversation.
I remained standing between her legs, my stomach in knots and my cock the only thing hungry, but slipped my phone from my pocket and hit the answer button. “Send it up.”
When I hung up, Blue had a timid smile on her face. It made me want to kiss her again. But I wouldn’t. I tore my eyes away from her mouth and stepped back, rearranging myself from the outside of my slacks. And when I heard the distant sound of the elevator opening, I made my way out of the room, promising myself I would never touch her again. Yet wishing–shit–wishing like fuck that I could.
