Page 157 of Fielder's Choice

And the fact that it was with Olive just makes it that much better.

She told me she loved me before she gave me her virginity, and I’ve never felt so connected to somebody before.

I know last night was emotional for her, but I don’t know if she realizes it was emotional for me, too. Since that wasn’t my first time, I could just hide it better. But I’ve never felt anything like I felt last night.

It wasn’t just sex. It was us giving ourselves to each other completely, and it’s so much better than anything I’ve experienced in my thirty-two years.

With every movement, Olive burrowed herself a little bit more into my soul, and by the time we finished, she was a permanent part of me.

She’s mine, and I’m hers.

“Good morning, baby,” I hear her say as she steps into the kitchen, her voice still gruff from sleep.

I turn around to find her in one of my shirts, and I hold my arms open for her, wrapping them around her when she rests her body against my chest. “Good morning, Ballerina. How are you feeling?”

Olive smiles up at me sweetly. “Are you going to keep checking in on me, Lane?”

I peck her lips. “Only when it’s something new. Last night was the first time you had sex, and I think it’s fair for me to see that you’re feeling okay.”

She spreads her hand out over my bare chest and gazes at me longingly. “I love you. And I’m feeling fine.”

“Just fine?” I question, raising my eyebrow.

“Is fine not enough for your ego, Hotshot?” she teases.

“If you’re just feeling fine, I’m going to have to try harder next time.”

Olive laughs, lips brushing over mine. “Is there going to be a next time?”

I pull her bottom lip between my teeth and rest my hands over her ass. “I did promise I’d fuck you today.”

She looks at me, fire in her eyes while breathing heavily. “There’s definitely a next time. Last night was… amazing.” She leans closer to me, pressing her forehead to mine. “I need more.”

Lust consumes me, and I press my hardening length against her. “You want my cock again, Livvy?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yes. God, yes.”

“Using your words,” I rasp, squeezing her cheeks in my hands. “Such a good fucking girl, Olive.”

Her tongue darts out and wets her bottom lip. “I think you want to be a good boy, too.” My cock twitches against her leg, and her smile turns devious. “Oh, youdefinitelywant to be a good boy.”

I groan before smashing my lips to hers. “I want to beyourgood boy.”

In a display of boldness I’m not used to seeing from her, she pushes me backward. “Then grasp the edge of the countertop, and don’t move your hands.”

“And if I do move my hands?”

Olive doesn’t take her eyes off mine as she slowly drops to her knees in front of me, slipping her thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. “Then I’ll stop.”

I watch as she pushes my shorts down with my boxers, and my cock stands straight out, begging for her touch. My grip on the counter loosens when she wraps her hand around me. “Fuck, baby…”

“Hands on the counter, Hotshot.” I quickly comply, and I’m rewarded with her tongue swiping over my tip. “Good boy, baby.”

She starts lightly stroking my shaft, and I’m so hard it’s painful. “Liv…”

Olive gazes at me innocently, though I’ve learned this woman isn’t innocent at all. “Yes, Lane?”

“Ballerina,” I groan. “Please.”

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