11. Lexie

Chapter 11

Lexie

A ll the oxygen seemed to go out of the air when Oliver kissed me, but wasn't that how it always worked? There was never anyone on the planet but him whenever he kissed me. Tonight, I was surrounded by the taste of beer and his sandalwood cologne. It touched deep places in my heart and my soul.

I moaned into his mouth and turned to face him before cupping his cheeks and kissing him again while straddling his hips on the small chair, which creaked beneath us. I was relieved it was sturdy enough to hold both of us.

Oliver breathed out something against my lips and I pulled away, frowning.

"What?" I asked.

He shook his head and tried to kiss me again. I pressed a finger to his lips and shook my head. "Tell me what you said."

He looked at me for a moment, then a lopsided smile spread over his face. "I missed you," he admitted.

I continued to frown at him. "You aren't supposed to do that anymore," I replied .

He laughed, and the sound warmed my heart in spite of my desire to keep some distance between us. "I know that," he told me. "But I missed you anyway."

I almost told him how I missed him too, every day, all the time, even when I was engaged to Dick. But that wouldn't be helpful for either of us, not really, not when I was trying to create some space between us so I could escape this little town once and for all.

His arms went around my waist, pulling me back in as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"How come you never had kids?" he asked, and I blinked in shock that he wanted to talk while our bodies were pressed up against each other like this.

I swallowed hard. "I don't know."

Oliver pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, confusion on his face.

"Yeah, you do. Marriage and kids were all we talked about while we were together. You were so excited to be a mama someday."

I licked my lips. "He wasn't the right guy."

"Why not?" Oliver asked, and from the way he was looking at me, I figured he wasn't going to let that slide.

"I don't even know if he was a good guy," I whispered. "Things changed after we got engaged. He used to be so sweet, bringing me flowers, texting me every day, writing me poetry."

Oliver rolled his eyes, but I ignored it, continuing.

"But then after we moved in together, when things got more serious, he became different."

"Bad different?"

I nodded. "Controlling, different. I could be at the corner store and if I was gone longer than he thought I should be, he'd call me, over and over. Eventually he'd just show up, angry."

I remembered a time when Dick had caused a scene in front of the owner of the store, and it had been so embarrassing. I didn't tell that to Oliver, though, because his face was already red, and he looked like he might explode.

"I wish I was going to have the chance to meet him," he said in a low tone.

I raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Why?"

"So that I could kill him."

I couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that. "Well, he's gone now. The way I ran off, I doubt he'll ever want to speak to me again."

"You'd be surprised," Oliver muttered. "You're a rare find, Lex."

"Am I?" I asked in a cooing voice, my fingers playing at the hair at the nape of his neck. I couldn't help myself. It was just like old times on his father's back porch and I knew it was dangerous. I was so close to falling right back in love with him.

Maybe I would have pulled away if Oliver hadn't leaned up and kissed me deeply at that moment.

I moaned into his mouth and my hips rolled against him, feeling his erection through the fabric of his sweats.

Just talking about Dick had made me feel dirty and sad all over again. I wanted to erase that, make myself feel powerful and beautiful, and Oliver had always made me feel those things and so much more.

Why didn't we just talk through our issues back then? my brain whispered. What's stopping you from doing so now?

I really didn't want to be thinking about logistics with Oliver's hardness pressing into my thigh and his lips pressed to the pulse in my throat, so I shoved away the meanderings of my distracted brain. There would be time enough for regrets later. Right now, I wanted to feel happy again, and Oliver was offering me everything I needed to accomplish that goal.

Oliver growled, grabbing the back of my head to kiss me harder, and then he stood up, carrying me with him over to the side of his house, pressing me against it. His lips moved down my neck, and everything felt like it was on fire, my skin burning, my heart beating too fast.

"Remember this?" he whispered in between kisses. "We used to hide around corners and in closets just to make out. We were crazy for one another."

"I remember," I said back, and boy did I ever. So many different memories of stolen moments with Oliver had been coming back to me lately. We had just been kids, but we had been crazy for one another, and we had taken every chance we could to kiss, fondle, and enjoy each other.

Don't let this go any further. Stop it now, t he voice in the back of my head warned me, but I didn't listen. I didn't want to listen. I wanted Oliver. I had always wanted Oliver.

He carried me inside and up the stairs, stopping along the way to kiss me and touch me, and by the time he laid me down on his bed, I was panting with lust.

Oliver tore off his shirt with one hand, shoving down his sweats to free himself with the other, and my mouth watered at the sight of him. His erection stood thick and proud against his hard, toned stomach.

I started to scramble out of my clothes, Oliver helping me. When my tank top went over my head, he put his mouth on my nipple and my back arched.

"Oliver," I managed. "I want you so badly."

"Not nearly as badly as I want you," he muttered against my neck, then pulled my shorts off, tossing them onto the floor and spreading my thighs with his knee.

It looked like it was going to be rough and quick, and I couldn't say I minded. Not one bit.

"I was going to do something romantic, but…" he muttered as he tumbled me back onto the mountain of pillows resting against the headboard.

"Shut up and fuck me," I said.

He glanced up at me sharply, his brown eyes reflecting his surprise. I giggled and shrugged.

"I'm a big girl now," I assured him. "I'm not afraid to ask for what I want."

A smile tucked itself into the corner of his mouth and he leaned closer to me, his lips just barely touching mine. His longish hair tickled my nose where it fell over his forehead.

"And what do you want?" he said quietly. I felt the words as much as heard them.

"You," I whispered, being fully honest for a moment. I left out all the other baggage that went with that single word. We both knew the truth, even if we denied it in the light of day, but here, in the dark, with our skin pressed together, we could be honest with one another.

"In that case," he said back, before kissing me slowly, his tongue tangling with mine. Oliver pressed into me, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as pleasure rocketed through my core.

"God, you feel so good," Oliver groaned, dropping down on his forearms to kiss me as he started to move his hips.

The way he dragged against my sweet spot caused me to get close to the edge quickly, and I whined when he slowed his strokes.

"Lex," he whispered, looking into my eyes. "This is where you're supposed to be. "

My breath caught in my throat. "You can't stay things like that, Ollie. Not now. It's not fair."

I thought, for a brief, terrible moment, that he would pull out of me, leave me there wanting, but he didn't. He just tucked his head into my neck and moved his hips faster, grunting.

I wrapped my legs around his narrow waist, fighting back memories of the backseat of his truck, the meadow down by the river with the moon shining over us, the time that we had had sex under a blanket in the basement of my house, giggling and trying unsuccessfully to be silent.

"God, Lexie," he said, slamming home inside of me, his voice muffled by my hair, his lips touching my shoulder.

I reached up to stroke my hands along his skin, enjoying the feeling of his muscles clenching in his bowed back, admiring the power that I had over him in this situation, loving that I could affect him so strongly.

"Come for me," he murmured against my skin, and as if my body had been waiting for his command, I shattered, biting his shoulder to stifle my cries of pleasure. The last thing we needed was his child wandering in and asking who was in bed with his dad.

I clung to Oliver as my orgasm rolled over me, and he groaned and followed me over the edge, spilling inside of me, hot and warm.

When he pulled out of me, I felt empty, hollow, and I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I'll go."

He collapsed next to me, wrapping his arm tight around my waist. "Don't you dare," he said in a low tone. "You did that to me last time, and it drove me crazy. "

"Why?" I asked in a hoarse whisper, and he stroked my face.

"I don't know," he finally said, looking away from me. "I guess I just thought we had more history than that."

"You can't miss me," I said to him sternly, hoping to convince my own traitorous heart that it also couldn't keep missing him.

He smiled slightly and pulled me into his arms, nuzzling against my neck. It felt like I was back home in his bed, everything about being around him did. It was as if no time had passed at all, and my heart didn't know the difference, opening like a flower while he held me.

He kissed me again, and I let myself love him, just for that moment. It wouldn't be forever. Right? I could allow myself this one, selfish moment because I needed it, needed him.

I woke up a few hours later, daylight streaming through the windows. I glanced over at Oliver and my heart ached.

I thought about the great life he had, his beautiful son, everything he'd made for himself. I didn't have that. I didn't have any of that. I'd left it all behind.

I had to admit to myself that I was a little jealous of his life, and not just because I wanted it for my own. I wanted it with Oliver. That was always the plan growing up. I'd get settled in a career, and I'd have Oliver and everything else I'd ever wanted.

But that wasn't what happened. Instead, we'd gotten into a senseless fight that ended everything.

My chest hurt as my heart started to race again, this time from panic and fear of falling back in love with him.

I had to get out of there. Besides, I shouldn't be around when his son woke up. That would be awkward and confusing for him .

I stood up, slowly extricating myself from Oliver's arms so he wouldn't wake, then made my way to the top of the stairs.

I hadn't gotten a good look at the house last night, but today, I could see how homey it was. It had Oliver's touch, but it felt like a home instead of just a bachelor pad.

The furniture looked comfortable, and the décor was simple but tasteful. Although it lacked a woman's touch, I believed it was a very happy home, and for some reason, that made my eyes well with tears.

I hurried out of the house, all but sprinting across the terrace and grounds to get to my place.

I was breathing hard by the time I got to the cabin, but I managed to get inside and make a pot of coffee before a knock sounded at my door.

Frowning, certain of who it could be, I walked to the door and looked through the peephole.

As expected, Oliver stood there. And he looked mad.

I opened the door and took in a deep breath as he stormed in.

"You always run away," he accused.

I stood there for a moment, staring at him, anger rushing through my veins. "You dumped me, remember?" I said shakily, clenching my fists at my sides. "You're the one who broke up with me, all those years ago."

"What else was I supposed to do?" he shot back.

"You were supposed to trust me," I whispered.