Chapter 24

twenty-four

Olympia

Last night comes back to me like a brick to the chest. It knocks the air from my lungs, because last night hadn’t been a dream. I’m not alone in my bed, sated from an orgasm I’d given myself. Oh, no. I’m half naked, my butt tucked into Tav’s front—and he’s rock hard.

Oh, my God. What am I supposed to do now?

Should I try to disentangle myself from his hold? Am I supposed to creep from his room like a thief in morning light?

Was last night a mistake?

What have I done?

Heart slamming hard in my chest, my body tenses as I prepare to move, only to freeze as Tav’s deep voice rumbles, “Morning, Princess.”

Heaven help me. “You’re awake?”

Gosh, I can hardly breathe.

“Mmhmm.”

I make to disentangle myself from his hold, an excuse for last night on the tip of my tongue when his hold on me tightens. His palm is open on my low belly, skin to skin under the material of the t-shirt. It feels excruciatingly intimate.

“I should—um—get dressed.”

“Not so fast.” His mouth connects with the curve of my neck and shoulder, a wet, searing kiss burning into my flesh.

My stomach knots. Need twists every ounce of rationality I regained over the night into a pretzel of chaos and bad, very bad, decisions. Because—I moan.

It’s the kind of moan that shouldn’t be heard by the man who’s been trying to get rid of me since the moment I arrived.

Last night, he told me I was his. I’m not sure I believe him.

I’m not sure this isn’t just another play to push me away. To shatter me.

But damn, his mouth on my skin feels so good. And his touch—it ignites a path of fire that is currently traveling south.

When he cups me between my legs, his palm pressing into my swollen clit as he pushes two fingers into my already wet core, my moan turns into something else. Something feral.

“God, Tav.” I’m not sure if I’m protesting or pleading as he grinds his arousal into my ass, hooking a knee into the back of mine and pushing upward. The move opens me to him, and he begins to fuck me with his fingers as he pins my body into the bed with the weight of his own at my back.

“Fucking can’t wait to fuck you,” he grunts, teeth sliding over the t-shirt that covers my shoulder as my hands stretch upward in search of something—anything—to hold onto.

“Oh,” I moan as he crooks a finger inside me. “Yes.”

I’m shameless.We’re shameless.

When Tav makes me come unstitched for the third time, it’s in a puddle of confusion and shame beneath his big body. I don’t know what I’m doing, letting him use my pleasure and need against me like this.

What is his angle?

My body falls to the mattress, my chest heaving with heavy breaths as the throbbing quakes of my most recent orgasm fade to a dull, exhaustive strum.

With another kiss, this one to my bare ass cheek—the horror—Tav lifts from the bed to walk to the bathroom. He doesn’t bother to close the door, and not a moment later, I hear the shower turn on.

For a few minutes, I stay face down on his bed, wondering what in the actual crap has happened. A spike of anxiety twists sharply in my belly, and I lift myself from the bed. I need yoga. And coffee. And Charlie. I need to call Charlie.

First, though, I need a shower—because after three orgasms, I’m a mess.

To get to the door of Tav’s room, I have to first pass the bathroom. Unable to help myself, I sneak a peek as I pass—and stop, stunned, at the sight before me. Tav in the shower, perfectly visible through the glass. He’s completely naked, and his big hand is wrapped around a bigger cock.

I blink, alarmed when that hand begins to move. Up and down. Over the head, up the shaft. Slow. Then faster. Then faster. His hips begin to thrust into his fist, and my mouth goes dry. Heat prickles my skin and even though he just made me come, that sharp twist of anxiety blooms into an excruciating knot of desire.

With a deep grunt—a sound I know I’ll never forget as long as I live—Tav splashes his release on the glass of the shower.

My eyes snap up in shock, landing on dark eyes that are fixed on me.

Fire burns in my chest as I turn and flee.

* * *

Showered and dressed in a pair of spandex shorts and an oversized blue sweater over top of a workout tank, I finally gather the courage to leave my room and enter the kitchen. I find Tav standing with a carafe of coffee. Seeing the to-go coffee, I’m equally relieved and disappointed. I need time alone to think and process everything that has happened. But I also can’t help but want him to stay.

His eyes burn into mine. Please, please don’t bring up my spying.

“I made coffee.”

I swallow even though my tongue is dry. Twin flames burn my cheeks, because I can’t look at him and not see the way his fist pumped his cock.

“Yeah—um—thanks.” I head for the clean mug that sits beside the coffee pot. When my hand trembles, Tav looses a deep chuckle and beats me to the pot. He pours my cup and I add my cream and sugar, refusing to look at him.

I. Just. Can’t.

“I have to work for a few hours, but I should be home early today.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve got a show this weekend.” I can feel his dark eyes on me, waiting. Because I can feel them, I take a sip of the good stuff for bravery and lift my eyes to his. He smiles softly. “There’s my girl.”

Wait, what?

“Um…”

“I’d like you to come.”

I blink. My brows rise and my voice sounds shrill. “Right now?”

He chuckles again. How is he so calm after all that?

“No, Olympia. Not now. To the show this weekend.”

Those stupid burns in my cheeks burn hotter. “Oh, duh. Um, yeah, sure. Love to.”

He looks like he’s fighting a smile, so I toss my thumb over my shoulder and mutter, “I’m going to go sit outside. I need to clear my head.” I’m already turning around when I huff, “I need frigging yoga.”

His laughter follows me as I escape onto the patio, knowing that he leaves for work not long after, and relieved for it.

I’m not cut out for this kind of anxiety, I think, as I tug my phone from the little pocket in my shorts to text Charlie.

OMG. I’m dying.

Why are you dying? Has the asshat had enough of you beating him at his own game and now he’s killing you?

Do I need to alert the boys in blue?

You have an obsession with the police, Charlie.

Have you seen them in uniform?

They need to make a calendar.

Pretty sure there’s a calendar.

If there was, I’d know.

What’s going on?

I don’t know.

Tav walked in on me last night…

Doing what?

You know that vibrator I bought…

My phone starts to ring, Charlie’s name flashing on my screen. I cringe as I take the call, hearing her shriek, “What the hell, girl! Tell me everything.”

“I’m so confused!” I wail.

“Why are you confused. Details, girl. I need details.”

“I was—well, you know⁠—”

“You were masturbating, yeah. Get to the part where he walked in.”

I start the process of stripping from my sweater, because I’m just too hot with shame, and humiliation, and all the other emotions that keep bombarding me, wreaking havoc on me.

“I was totally naked, Charlie.” My confession comes out weak. “And worse, I was failing.”

“How do you fail at masturbating?”

“It wasn’t working.”

“What? The toy?”

Someone kill me. Put me out of my misery and just smite me.

“No, the toy was working—I just couldn’t get myself—you know—there.”

Charlie snorts.

I die a little.

She apologizes, “Sorry.” I’m pretty sure she’s still laughing when she asks, “So, what’d he do?”

I sink into the teardrop swing and close my eyes. “He offered to help.”

“He did not?” she whisper-hisses.

“Yeah, he did.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said…well, he made me ask him to make me come.”

“Holy shit, girl. I need a man who hates me.” I can practically feel her shock through the phone. “What happened next?”

I slap a hand over my eyes. “He made me come.”

“How?”

“With—his—fingers and his mouth.” I get the words out in a rush, but I know she heard them because she gasps.

“He used his mouth?”

“Mhmm.”

“How was it?”

“Um—well, he made me come so—um—good?”

“You sound like you’re not sure.” She sounds unimpressed.

I huff, “Okay, it was amazing.”

“And what happened after?” She curses. “This is like pulling teeth, girl, come on.”

“He carried me to his bedroom and told me my ass was to be in his bed at night from now on.” I frown. “Or I think that’s what he said.”

“Holy shit.”

“Then he made me come again.”

“Definitely need a man who hates me,” Charlie mutters.

I sit up straight. “Will you stop with that?”

“What? This hate thing is hot as hell.”

“He said the deal is off, Charlie,” I whisper, because my heart feels intense in my chest. A little heavy. A lot worried. A bit brutalized. “I can’t tell if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to ruin me.” My voice lowers. “He says he has the will but—I don’t know if I believe him.”

“You think he’s playing you?”

“I don’t know, Charls.”

She sighs. “After everything, you still love him, don’t you?”

“I—I don’t know.” I’m pretty sure there’s a piece of me that will always love him. But what’s love without trust?

“Oh, babe.”

Because I’m about to cry, I say, “Gotta go.”

“Wait, Pippa!”

I pause. My voice croaks, “What?”

Charlie’s voice is soft. “Love you, girl.”

“Love you, too.” I hang up just in time for the first tear to fall.