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.
