CHAPTER TWENTY Olive

CHAPTER TWENTY

Olive

"Is it silly I'm nervous?"

"Um, you're about to fly to LA to walk a red carpet on the arm of one of the hottest actors ever, then go off and do a photo shoot for Good Jeans. The Good Jeans! The same company you've been trying to get in with for years," Annie says. "I'd think you were a robot if you weren't nervous."

Uma was a little bummed I turned down Blush Jeans, but that didn't last long because just two days later, my dream job came up—Good Jeans wanted me, and they wanted me fast.

They're shooting their upcoming winter line, and it just happened to line up perfectly with Jude's movie premiere. We'll walk the red carpet, he'll fly off to do some international promo, and I'll stay behind in LA for a few days to shoot with Good Jeans. Jude's insisting on paying for the hotel for a few extra days; it makes me feel a little uncomfortable having him spend so much money on me, but he's claiming it's a gift for booking the big gig I've always wanted. It's sweet, but I don't want him to think I'm only with him for the luxury of it all.

I laugh. "Thanks, Annie."

"I'm just mildly jealous I can't go with you. Are you sure he didn't say anything about plus-ones for the plus-one?"

"What are you talking about? We invited you."

"Yeah, on a work night!" Annie pouts. "Couldn't there just not be an emergency for one night?"

"In New York? I don't think so."

"Boo." Annie tosses herself down on my bed beside the suitcase I've been packing for the last two hours. She looks inside. "Is this it?"

"Hey! I've been working hard on this!"

The sad part is, I'm not lying. I have been working hard, yet somehow it still contains only my sexiest underwear and a few pairs of socks.

Turns out packing for a trip to a Hollywood event is a lot harder than I could have thought. I have no idea what I'm supposed to wear.

"You're overthinking it," Annie says. "Just grab some clothes and stuff them in there."

"Grab some clothes?" I ask her incredulously. "I'm a model, Annie! I can't just grab some clothes. That's not how it works."

I knew dating Jude would be a big deal, but I didn't think it would be in the headlines almost daily and that my whole life was going to be put under the microscope. When my relationship with Jude really started getting out there, Uma insisted I scrub my accounts of any personal info, and I am so happy I did. A gossip site somehow found an old photo of me, Annie, and Daphne and took off with the image. It felt like such an invasion of privacy, especially to include a little kid. I had to have Jude step in and get it all taken down. Thank God he was able to pull some strings.

Since then, I've been more careful of the things I post, making sure to leave out any mention of location or any information that could be used against me or the people I care about most.

It's strange to think that all I've wanted in my career is notoriety for doing good things for the planet and being a fat badass bitch while doing it, and now that I'm here, I wish I could scale it back about tenfold.

I guess Jude was right about craving normalcy. I could go for some normal right about now.

Funny, considering I'm about to walk the red carpet with my movie-star boyfriend and have my life on full display.

"Did you tell your mom?"

"I did. Then she promptly asked if I was dating that kid who lived in a hotel and was a secret rock star. I had to explain to her that was two different shows, and I was dating the rock star."

Annie laughs. "Your mom is so out of the loop with ... well, everything."

"She is," I say, grabbing another pair of underwear, bringing me to ten for a three-day trip. "But she's happy with her little farm in the middle of nowhere, and that's all that matters."

I stopped fighting my mom on being so out of touch a long time ago. She's been through enough after losing my father. She's earned her happily ever after, whatever her version looks like.

"Good for her." Annie reaches in, pulling out two additional panties I've just stuffed in my suitcase. "I think ten is a good number."

"But those are so pretty," I whine when she grabs my lacy lilac pair.

"They are. But I bet Jude wants to see you in something other than your underwear."

I smile, thinking about what happened in the tub, where he spent so much time playing between my legs that our fingers turned into prunes. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Oooh. You're so going to have hot Hollywood sex with him, aren't you?"

"I hope so—minus the cameras, of course."

We've been playing this cat and mouse game, getting each other off multiple times yet never actually going all the way. But I think maybe this trip might change that.

Annie tips her head, wrinkling her nose. "Yeah, I guess Hollywood sex does involve a camera. Though I don't think that would be the worst thing."

"Remi?"

"Yeah?" he calls from his favorite spot on the couch. I have no doubt if I walked out there, he'd have his laptop covering his legs and a can of Mountain Dew beside him.

"Your fiancée wants to film you two having sex!"

"Olive!" Annie yells, throwing a confiscated pair of underwear at me.

"I'm game!" Remi hollers back, seemingly unfazed.

I laugh at Annie's dropped jaw, then shrug. "At least he's adventurous."

"He probably didn't realize what you said. He's all hung up in his code like a dork."

"I prefer the term geek, and I totally heard what she said! I'll charge the camera!"

"Can you kids talk about your pornos with the windows shut? I didn't realize moving him in here would make you even bigger sex freaks!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Hammish!" all three of us yell in unison.

Annie and I exchange a look, tucking our lips inward to keep from laughing.

"Did she just call us sex freaks?" Annie whispers.

"I think so. Funny, considering it's been over a year since I've been laid, and I've seen at least three gentleman callers leaving her apartment in that time."

"Gross." Annie shudders. "Old-people sex."

"I wonder if she's ever recorded her fun times ..."

"Ew, ew, ew!" Annie shouts, pushing off the bed, tossing her hands in the air. "I'm done. I'm out. You're packing yourself."

"Good. That's exactly what I wanted."

I turn back to the mess in front of me, picking up a dress just to put it back down again. I grab another, and the result is the same.

Nothing I have looks good. Nothing works.

"You know . . ."

I jump at the intrusion, my hand going to my chest. I turn to find Annie still standing in my doorway. "Yes, Mom?"

"I bet the girls down at Cuties then, with shaky hands, he inserts the key.

The door swings open slowly, and we step inside.

The lights we left on earlier cast a soft glow around the room, creating an ethereal feel. I suppose that's fitting since none of this seems real.

I'm standing in a hotel room with Jude Rafferty, about to have sex with him, and I never, ever thought this would happen.

Jude grabs my hand, tugging me gently against his chest.

To steady myself, I grip the lapels of his suit, the same one that somehow makes him even sexier than he already is.

"Trying to undress me already? You move fast, Sunshine."

I laugh, pulling my hand away. But I don't get far.

Jude's hand closes around mine, bringing it right back to where it was on his chest.

I peer up into his gorgeous pools of dark green, loving when one side of his mouth kicks up into a smirk that is so lethal it should be illegal.

"I didn't say I didn't like it," he says softly.

And then his mouth is on mine once more.

This kiss is softer than the last. It's slow and calculated and just as good.

Kissing Jude feels like coming home, and I've never craved the feeling more.

His lips trail from my mouth to my chin and back to my lips, all in the span of seconds. It's like he's trying to commit every inch of me to his memory.

I'm more than willing to allow him to try.

I push at the material still bunched in my hands, and Jude doesn't waste a second, knowing exactly what I want—him.

He wrenches his lips from mine, and I have to swallow back the cry that's begging to leave me at the loss of his touch. Then he begins shrugging out of his suit jacket, and I suddenly don't care about him not kissing me anymore. Not when he's stripping out of the black material like he's ... well, a movie star stripping in a movie.

I laugh at the thought, and Jude doesn't miss it.

"Are you laughing at me getting naked, Ollie?"

"No." A giggle escapes again. "Maybe."

He tips his head, his fingers falling to the cuff links on his wrists.

"It's just ... well, I was kind of thinking about how you looked taking that off." I nod toward where he's pulling one arm from the jacket, then the other. He begins slipping button after button through the holes, taking his time undoing his dress shirt like I'm not standing here, salivating over his every move. "It reminded me of all those let's-rip-each-other's-clothes-off-but-look-extra-hot-doing-it scenes in movies. Then I remembered who you are."

He pauses mid-undress, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that has my heart racing.

"And who am I, Olive?" he asks quietly.

"You're ... Jude. You're just Jude."

One.

Two.

Three.

That's how many seconds pass before Jude moves.

Then suddenly, he's right there, pressing his lips against mine in a rough kiss. Not the kind that hurts physically but the kind that bruises the deepest part of you, marking you for all eternity.

Jude doesn't just kiss my lips. He kisses my soul.

And I'd be a damn liar if I said it doesn't make me want to bare it all to him.

I kiss him back with equal fervor, and gone is the slowness of the evening. Gone are the little jokes and the teasing. It's pure lust and lost inhibitions. Nothing else.

Jude's hands coast over my body, digging into the material of my dress, tugging at it like he wants it off.

"Where the fuck is the zipper?" he mutters against my mouth. "I need you naked."

I laugh. "It's under a slip of fabric, to cover the zip track."

"Fashion is weird," he says, his fingers finding the spot I'm talking about and deftly tugging the metal down its track. The dress loosens against my body, already falling to expose my strapless-bra-covered breasts.

But to Jude, it doesn't matter that I'm still covered. He's looking at me hungrily anyway.

"Off," he instructs, not once taking his eyes from me.

I do as he says, slipping the dress the rest of the way down my hips, letting it fall to the floor where I stand. I go to reach behind me to remove my bra, but Jude puts his hand out.

"Hang on. I want to commit this memory for a moment."

Heat steals up my cheeks, not just from his words but from how he's looking at me standing before him in nothing but a pair of heels, the white bra, and a matching white thong.

I should feel silly being exposed like this, but I can't find it in me. Not when his stare makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on as he moves his gaze from head to toe, taking in every detail of my body—dips, curves, and even the faint stretch marks I have on my stomach and thighs.

I've been in expensive gowns before. I've had my makeup done by some of the best out there. Had my hair styled to perfection. I've modeled and posed and done so many things that have made me feel sexy and empowered.

But all of them pale in comparison to this moment.

"More," Jude mutters, the single word coming out low and dry. He clears his throat, then raises his eyes to mine. "More."

I reach behind me for the hooks on the bra, then unsnap it, letting it fall away from my body.

Jude's eyes darken when my hands fall to my hips, then even more when I push the thin, barely there material down my legs. I step out of the underwear and bend to undo the strap on my heel.

"Leave them."

I peek up at Jude.

"The heels," he says. "Leave them on."

It's the last thing he says before he crosses the small space between us, sweeping me into his arms as he presses his mouth against mine once more, carrying us both over to the bed. He drops me down gently, giving me a soft shove until I fall onto my back.

He steps between my legs, fitting himself there perfectly as he traces a single finger over my naked breasts, brushing the pad of it over my already puckered nipple. He drags that same finger lower, down my stomach, running it against the marks marring my skin. He doesn't stop there. He keeps going, going, going until he's right where I want him.

"Oh god," I cry out when he slides over my already soaked slit.

"Jesus, Olive, you're so fucking wet for me." He slips his finger between my folds, grazing against my clit and sending zings of pleasure through me. "Your pussy is dripping. I can fucking see it."

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip like he just can't help it.

"I want to taste it again," he whispers, then slowly pulls his eyes away from where his finger is playing a perfect rhythm against my clit. "Can I taste you, Olive?"

God, yes, please!

But I don't say that. I can't. Mostly because even sucking air into my lungs feels like work right now.

Instead, I nod, and Jude's eyes light up.

Then he sinks down, down, down, not stopping until he's on his knees.

He picks up my right leg and presses soft kisses from my knee to just close enough to where I really want his mouth, then pulls back and sets my legs on his shoulder. He gives my left leg the same treatment, teasing me and enjoying it far too much when I buck my hips toward him.

He laughs, meeting my eyes. "Someone's eager."

"Someone's being an asshat."

He shakes with laughter again. "Testy, testy, testy."

"Asshat, asshat, assh—oooooh!"

Jude skims his tongue over me, silencing my insults once and for all.

"Still an asshat?" he questions, and I shake my head eagerly. "Good. Now, be a good girl and put those heels to good use. I just got hungry for dessert."

Then he wears my thighs like earmuffs, his tongue lashing against me in a delicious cadence as I push my heels into his back as instructed.

He licks and sucks and fucks me with his mouth, bringing me to the edge and back time after time. It's torturous yet so, so good.

When he hits a spot that sends a sudden jolt through me, I crash my hands into his dark-blond hair, holding him steady right where I want him as my orgasm barrels through me like a Mack Truck.

I sigh long and loud. "Holy ... fuck."

Jude laughs against me, sending the tiniest of aftershocks through my body, which makes him laugh even more as he kisses each thigh. He doesn't stop kissing me, either, as he works his way up my body. He kisses my soft belly, paying extra attention to the marks stretched along it. He kisses my tits, sucking each nipple into his mouth, lavishing me with lashes and nibbles that sting just enough. He kisses my collarbone, my throat, and my chin. He kisses all the way up until his lips are pressed against mine and I'm dying for something more.

For him.

And he must be feeling the same, because he's wrenching his mouth from mine and pushing from the bed. He yanks off his shirt, then reaches into his back pocket, pulling an expensive-looking leather wallet free. I barely catch sight of a familiar foil packet before his lips are back on mine. He slips his tongue into my mouth as he slips the condom over his cock, then presses his hips against me, running his hard length against my clit in teasing thrusts.

"I have a confession to make, Sunshine."

"Please tell me you're not a virgin. I mean, I'm honored, and I'll gladly accept this challenge, but wow. Way to wait until the last minute to tell me."

He laughs against me, kissing from my chin to my ear. "No. But it has been ... a while."

"So? It's been a while for me too."

"So ... I'm not sure I'm going to last long."

"Me either and I don't care. I just need to feel you inside me."

He groans against me, the vibration tickling me in all the right places.

"Jude, I—"

He grabs my leg, wrapping it around his hip, then slides his cock inside me with a hard thrust, turning my words into a loud sigh.

It's only now that I realize he never finished taking off his pants, and I'm not sure why, but it makes the whole thing hotter. Like he couldn't wait another second to have me.

"Fuck, Sunshine," he groans, burying his face into my neck. "You feel so goddamn good around me. Heaven. Pure fucking heaven."

He's wrong. This isn't pure fucking heaven. It's hell because I need him to move.

I dig my heels into his lower back. "More," I command, repeating his plea from earlier.

He doesn't hesitate to fulfill my request, beginning to slowly pump into me, letting me get used to his size.

When I dig my heels in a little more, he takes his cue, then finally gives in to everything he's been holding back, going to his knees and pushing into me with just the right amount of roughness he somehow knows I need.

It's the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain as he slams into me, hitting every spot I need except one.

Like he knows I'm just on the brink, he presses his thumb against my clit, and two short circles later, I fall apart around him.

Jude swallows my moans as my orgasm rattles through me, thrusting into me with abandon until he follows me into the bliss.

Now this is pure fucking heaven.

His thrusts slow first, then his kisses, and soon we're just lying with our lips resting together as we work to catch our breaths.

At some point, we move—Jude first, slipping down my body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

He stops at my feet, then slowly and methodically peels off my heels, tossing them aside. He shucks his pants, then disposes of the condom before crawling back into the bed, pulling the cover up over us both.

He tugs me to his side until my head is resting against his chest, my legs strewn over his as his fingers tangle in my hair and his lips brush against my forehead.

"I don't know how I'm going to leave tomorrow now," he says into the still darkness.

"Don't."

He laughs, pulling away and peering down at me. "Don't tempt me, Sunshine. Because for you, I'd do it."

I know with everything in me he means it.

And for the next eight hours, he shows me just how much.