AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I drop to the floor.
Chapter Eleven
RONAN
I had the urge to continue with my newfound addiction of watching Olivia through the security camera.
She seemed bored for most of yesterday but handled it well.
She is still not a morning person, although she used to argue that it was because she stayed up at night working on her homework.
I sit in the armchair in the private security room, and this time, I brought more scotch than I did yesterday, and by the look of things, I will need it.
I drop the glass on the coffee table and cross a leg over the other as I watch her place both feet on the bed, baring her… Oh fuck.
I sit straight.
She is dreaming.
Her hand goes to her pussy, and even from here, I can see that it’s wet. I’m not getting a vivid view, partly because of the distance between the armchair and the monitor but also because I’m not wearing my glasses.
I stopped wearing them as often as I used to after we broke up.
She convinced me to wear glasses after she noticed how I squinted during our study hours when trying to read texts.
My mother was pleased about the progress, but at the time, she didn’t know a certain girl in school had anything to do with it.
I drag my butt until I’m sitting on the edge of the armchair as I watch her pleasure herself. It’s torture to watch, but I can’t look away either.
I feel my sac growing full and my cock ticking.
I groan.
Then, a bird on the windowsill hits its beak repeatedly against the window, and she wakes up.
It takes her a while before she notices the food waiting for her. The food I had asked to be specially prepared for her.
She enjoyed the sushi so much yesterday, I'm sure she'll enjoy this as well. That was the best part of our Monday talks. She constantly had to mention the gazpacho soup that her grandmother prepared.
Her paternal grandmother, Abuela, played a huge role in her life. Olivia’s family history is like a tapestry. Her mother is French, her father Latin American. They met at Harvard, fell in love over shared courses, and stayed in Boston together after they got married.
Her Abuela, Amalia, was the cornerstone of her life, especially when it came to her love for cooking. I’m sure Olivia named her bakery "Amalia" after her grandmother because her Abuela always believed in her and she taught her everything about baking.
I delight at her eagerness in every action as she dashes back to pick up a spoon. It's fun to watch her eat. I like it when she bounces her head from side to side or when she hoards the dish, letting me know she would not share her meal with me if I were there.
I like it. I like it a lot.
I miss it.
I miss her. I miss what we had so much, and damn Liam for asking me that specific question about what it had felt like to be dating her.
I doubt I have ever been this genuinely happy about anything ever since she left.
She starts to cough, and I stand on my feet, getting closer to the screen and squinting.
Was the food too spicy?
She takes limp steps to the door, and that’s my cue for darting out of the private security room.
