Page 18 of Desperate Haste

“I don’t give a fuck about your rules, Ophelia. The only thing I care about is getting your delicious pussy on my mouth again.” My lips stay on her neck while I slip a hand down her body suit and press my fingers right on her center on the outside of her clothes. She moans at the sensation and grabs my arm with her free hand. “I’m off at midnight and then I’ll come over. Wait for me?”

I look into her eyes and find a mix of uncertainty and pleasure. Almost like she wants to say yes but something in her is holding her back. We’re both breathing hard and my brain is starting to remember that I have a bar to manage and people are probably starting to notice my absence.

“It’s just sex,” she finally states, very matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, really good sex,” I chuckle, pressing another kiss to her throat and drinking in the smell of her lavender shampoo as if my life depends on it.

“Butjustsex,” she stresses again, pushing me away from her so we are looking at each other.

“Yes, little fox, just sex.” Her eyes lock on mine as I repeat her words back to her. She and I are the same in how we like to handle our private business. Just sex, nothing more.

“Fine. I’m going to go and say goodbye to everyone. I’ll text you my address.” She pushes me off of her but I grab her by the waist before she can get too far out of reach and pull her into me again.

“I didn’t say you could leave yet,” I growl before forcing my lips to hers. If I’m going to make it through the rest of the evening knowing what’s waiting for me once I’m off, I need a taste of her to hold me over. When I pull away, she uses her thumb to wipe away her lipstick from my lip.

“How do you have my number?” I question, still holding her against me by the waist.

“I have my ways,” she says slyly with a smirk. “Can I go now?”

I release my hold on her but she waits for me to dismiss her. “You can go now.”

With her signature small wave and a smirk, she’s heading back inside the bar and I’m following closely behind her to get the wine Alice asked me for ten minutes ago.

Once I’m back behind the bar, I check the watch I wear religiously and start my countdown to making Ophelia mine all over again.

12

MALCOLM

The time between when she left the bar and I finally locked the front door for the night felt like forever. She’d left a little after nine thirty and texted me her address shortly after. Once she said goodbye to the group, she gave me a wink and a small wave before heading for the door. Bailey gave me a sideways glance that told me she knew exactly what was going on. I didn’t care if she knew, they could all know if they wanted. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.

Her.

Pulling up to her condo, I park on the street and step out, taking her building in. I’ve never been to her place before but I can tell it cost a fortune just by looking at it. I can never afford such luxury on what I make managing the bar, but I like my little apartment and my second-hand books just fine. No one I’ve ever brought home has complained—Ophelia included.

Once I make it to the door, I find the number to her condo and press the call button, the loud ringing sound cuts through the silence of the night. Within seconds her silky voice rings out on the speaker that is affixed to the side of the building.

“Who is it?” she coos.

“It’s me, Malcolm. Open the door.” I try to keep my voice steady and even but the growing tension in my core is making it difficult.

“Hmm…I don’t know a ‘Malcolm.’ Try again.” My eyebrows meet in the middle of my forehead, what is she talking about? I think for a moment before rolling my eyes and blowing out a breath.Little fox.

“It’s pretty boy,” I growl through gritted teeth.

“Good boy,” she affirms with an evil giggle and I hear the door unlock. I wish that her name for me didn’t turn me on as much as it did. Once inside, I make my way to the elevator and take it up to her floor. Taking a few long strides down the hallway I find her door and knock. When it swings open I have to stop myself from howling like a feral fucking dog.

Standing just inside the doorway wearing nothing but a baby blue robe, Ophelia is a wet dream brought to life. Stripped of her costume and makeup, her dark hair is cascading down her shoulders in loose curls. The robe is being held closed by a dainty strap that’s tied in front of her and my fingers twitch from the desire to pull the knot loose to see if she’s wearing anything underneath.

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there staring all night?” The confident smirk on her face and the way she’s looking at me nearly has me on my knees for her. I step inside and slip off my jacket, tossing it on the back of one of the barstools and glance around, trying to play it cool.

“Nice place you got,” I comment, taking in the modern features and furniture. My place looks like an absolute shithole in comparison.

“Thanks, I’ve heard that before,” she says with a smirk as she locks the door behind me. She moves through the kitchen and adjoined living room before disappearing into a bedroom. She doesn’t call out to me or ask me to follow, but I do anyway. Once inside what I assume is her room, I pick up the scent of lavender. It’s subtle, but noticeable. The room is clean and tidy and has a few photos scattered around. One on the dresser, another on the vanity, and one hanging on the wall. All three of them are photos of her and Bailey which makes sense since they’re best friends. But there’s nothing in her room that seems to hint at her background or of her family.Interesting.The thing I appreciate the most are the bookshelves stacked with books. There has to be at least a hundred of them.

“How was the party?” she asks, sitting down on the bed and leaning back on her hands. She doesn’t move to close her robe when it falls open, exposing her thick legs that I want to bury my face between.

“Do you really wanna know?” I try, giving her a skeptical look before running my hand through my hair to push it out of my face.

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