Page 4 of The Oscar Escape
Oscar had flashed her a smile that lit up his face. But after mulling it over, she, however, hadn’t been pleased. In her seven-year-old mind, that had been her bully to kick. She was no pint-sized damsel in distress.Eat wormshad been her catchphrase of choice as a youngster. It was safe to say she’d never been—nor was she now—a shrinking violet.
Still, she couldn’t forget the devotion shining in Oscar’s eyes.
And that image sparked another memory.
A secret she couldn’t share with anyone.
And there was nothing childlike about it.
It was a memory of a kiss. A kiss so frenzied, so passionate, and so powerful, no matter how hard she’d tried to forget it, she couldn’t.
The kiss had imprinted on her soul.
But there was more—a dirty secret no one else knew about.
Every time she slipped her hand inside her panties, she replayed the kiss. Alone and on the brink of ecstasy, she’d whisper the name of the blue-eyed man who, these four years later and with only the memory of his touch, still set her body aflame.
It was a cruel twist of fate that now she absolutely, positively despised the guy.
Chapter2
ARIA
“Oscar,” Aria bit out, her voice cracking with emotion.
Despite hating herself for allowing the man to live rent-free in her head, she couldn’t help but whisper his name. Her lips tingled, and the sensation wasn’t caused by the alcohol or the cold medicine. It was her body recalling a secret birthday kiss she and Oscar shared on his twenty-first birthday.
A kiss that had come out of nowhere.
With her birthday on the twenty-second of October and his, a day later, on the twenty-third, they’d always celebrated together.
After a night on the town barhopping with Phoebe and Sebastian, she and Oscar had gone into a spare bedroom at the end of the evening to retrieve their coats they’d haphazardly thrown on the bed. One minute, she was turning to hand Oscar his jacket while checking her watch. It had been 12:01 a.m. Officially, Oscar’s birthday. She’d asked him what he wanted and held out his coat. But he hadn’t taken it. Instead, he’d concentrated on her mouth.
“I want—” he’d said but hadn’t finished the sentence.
Before she could blink, their coats were on the floor, and her back was against the door. He’d pinned her in place with his hard body and kissed her like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life. There was no ramping up. No whisper-soft contact. The kiss went from zero to sixty in milliseconds. He’d tasted like whiskey and chocolate birthday cake and . . . forever. It was as if she’d been transported to another world—a harmonious world. A steadiness had taken over that had flowed like waves caressing the shore, providing her the sweetest escape—especially after what she’d been through days before.
She’d never been consumed by a kiss. She’d never allowed herself to fall hard for anyone. Even in college, where she’d majored in music, she’d been driven to be the best. And sure, she’d kissed and even slept with other guys. But no one had ever kissed her like she made up their entire universe until that night.
Until Oscar.
She should have pushed him away. She should have told him to knock it off. Oscar was one of her best friends. They shouldn’t be kissing. But she hadn’t stopped him. Had she uttered even the softest of protest, he would have backed away. She’d known that with every fiber of her being. Oscar wasn’t the type of guy to pressure a woman. He didn’t have to resort to those measures. Built like a Greek god with an alluring, sensual vibe, droves of women gravitated toward him. Oddly, the guy rarely dated.
And that was the reason she’d said nothing.
She hadn’t wanted it to stop.
With his hands in her hair and his hard length pressed between her thighs—she’d lost herself. The clawing voice inside her head telling her to push harder and urging her to be the best went blissfully mute. Wading into a sea of erotic energy, she’d tossed aside right and wrong and had allowed the rhythm of their bodies to guide the way.
The only thing that scared her was how easily they’d slipped from best friends to ravenous lovers.
When Oscar finally pulled back, she’d expected to see devotion in his eyes like when she was a girl, and he’d kept her out of trouble.
But that’s not what she’d observed—not even close.
The revulsion written on his face sent a jagged crack through her heart. And she’d understood why. A few days before he’d kissed her, he’d found her a broken mess when she’d collapsed inside one of the music department’s piano practice rooms.
The cause? She’d run herself ragged.
