Page 31 of Tiebreaker

He glances over at me again and looks like he’s thinking.

“Maybe a silk pashmina too? She's gonna need a shawl to just in case it's cold.” He says it like everything is decided for me. That burns, that he thinks he can just… order my life around and arrange things to suit him. He bites his lower lip again, must be a signature move of his, and it’s… hot. Stupidly hot. “Where I’m taking her tonight, I don’t want her to feel like she snuggles up to me for warmth.”

I narrow my eyes.

“I’m not going out with you tonight,” I say, snippish, as I brush past him. The shop-girl’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “And this is Los Angeles,” I toss over my shoulder. “It's never cold.”

With that I stomp out of the shop and lift my hand. If it works for him, it can work for me. And like magic, unbelievably, the town car pulls up and I sigh in relief.

“Hey, wait,” Kai calls after me, and I growl under my breath as he catches up to me, several bags in hand. I glance at them and then him. “What’s with the look?” He asks, but I ignore him, getting into the car and crouching over my end of the bench seat.

He gets the hint and says nothing, quiet on the way back, and it isn’t until we’re getting into the elevator that he breaks his silence.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I’m not gonna wait to get you back into your apartment to do something about it.”

Each word he says drops like stone into water, and I inhale.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply. I honestly don’t. He’s looking at me like he wants to devour me, and I swallow hard, taking a step back. I bump against the wall of the elevator.

“See what I mean,” he murmurs, standing still, not making a move for me. He doesn’t need to. He’s reaching for me with his slick words, smooth and heated. “You give me that look like you want to murder me or fuck my spine out. I’m not sure which is the real Olivia.”

I quickly glance in the mirrored wall of the elevator, trying to catch out some hint of what he’s saying. Except all I see is my face. Standard Resting Bitch Face. It’s served me well up until now.

Cause apparently it reads as Resting Lust Face to him.

The doors open, and with the rush of fresh air, I escape, the rustle of bags following me as he keeps pace.

“Liv, wait,” he says, in an affectionate tone he has no right to use, because it just adds to the mounting confusion inside of me. Yes, what happened when we first… met is hanging over me like a 10 ton brick, but also yes, every time I look at him I get these flashes of hot, sweltery feelings and flash backs to howgoodhe felt.

I have to tell him the truth. So he’ll leave me alone. He’s too dangerous to be anywhere near me. I should hate him, and I don’t.

Because he didn’t know. He didn’t think he was doing anything wrong. And he made you come twice. When has a guy ever made you come twice?

Am I that hard up that I am willing to forgive what’d happened for a few orgasms? From the way my thighs are tensing up, apparently, the answer isyes.

So I open my mouth to tell him exactly what went down the night of his meet and greet, and my side of it, so he’d know, and he and these stupid confusing tumble of emotions will leave me alone-

But he kisses me. And I melt into it, lost and alone and dizzy in this situation I’ve stumbled into, I lean into him, reaching up to wrap my fingers around his neck and dig my nails in.

I want to hurt him like he unknowingly hurt me. He hisses against my mouth but his hips grind against mine, and he’s pressing me back up against the wall in the hall right next to my door, already his body moving like he wants to fuck, and fuck hard.

“All I think about is getting inside you,” he breathes. The bags got dropped at some point, purchases spilling out of them, black lace everywhere, but it’s fine, especially when his liquid eyes hold me tight. I can’t run, and I don’t want to fight.

I want him.

It’s fucked up.

But I want him.

“Shut up,” I reply, fiercely. The slick desire to claw at his chest, and rip his shirt open and scratch him right down to the bone, shocks me, and I have to breathe for a second. But he doesn’t give me the time, just captures my mouth again, tongue between my teeth before I can stop him, and he’s punishing me with his kisses. His hands run down my hips, and I’m stuck, between a hard place and his hard cock, again, like before.

I should be having horrifying flashbacks. Instead I’m getting soaked, my pussy wet against my panties. The fabric clings to me, and when he abandons kissing me for attaching his mouth to the side of my neck, biting down until he gets to my collarbone, I helplessly moan and try to pull him closer.

“Classy,” Everett’s cultured voice breaks over us like a cold slap, and my hand is up between me and Kai, shoving him away in a split second. Without blinking, he steps back, before glaring down the hallway at Everett.

Everett, who’s inspecting his nails like his manicurist left a snag and he’s pissy about it, doesn’t bother to respond with his own scowl.

“Get out,” he says, “I need to talk to our new charity case.”

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