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“I’ve seen them enclosed by glass so you can swim all year around,” I mused.
“Ryleigh, just say the word, and I can have a team up here to start construction by next week,” he assured me.
“You would do that for me if I asked?” I confirmed.
“I told you… anything,” he reaffirmed with sincerity.
I cried out as Oliver pounded me to another mind-numbing orgasm. We never made it out to the patio. The minute I removed my towel to dress, Oliver scooped me up and carried me to the bed. We’d been making love all afternoon and I was spent. He pulled out of me and moved to my side, cradling me against his body.
“I love you,” he whispered into my ear.
“Thank you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Thank you?”
“For loving me. I’ve never had anything like this.”
“I’ve never found anyone to love like I do you.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You didn’t eat much at brunch.”
“Neither did you. I was worried.”
Oliver sat up as if to assure me he was fine. “Don’t worry about me. Jonah will get over his tantrum.”
“Will you talk to him again?”
I couldn’t imagine being at such odds with my brothers. We always got along and though they were protective, I knew it was out of love.
He sighed. “As long as he behaves. He is highly volatile and always has been, even when my parents were alive. I could barely keep him in control when I became his guardian. I finally gave up when he turned eighteen.”
"Do you miss having a close relationship with him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Oliver's eyes darkened, a flicker of regret passing through them. "I wish it could be different, but he'll never change," he said, his tone heavy with resignation.
"Is that why you have security?" I pressed, not letting the topic drop.
"No," Oliver replied firmly, shaking his head. "I don’t worry about Jonah."
"But he attacked you," I insisted, my concern palpable.
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Oliver's mouth. "I'm used to it. You think this was the first time?" He looked away, as if the memories were too painful to confront.
"He sounds dangerous," I murmured, feeling a shiver run down my spine.
"He isn’t," Oliver said, his voice softening. "I can handle him. Now stop worrying your pretty little head about my brother. What would you like to eat?"
I hesitated, then decided to shift the conversation. "Do you have any crab salad?"
He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint returning to his eyes. "What do you think?"
"I’d say yes," I guessed, smiling despite myself.
Oliver's grip on me loosened, and I sat up in bed, reaching for his t-shirt draped over the chair. I slipped it on, the fabric soft against my skin. Oliver watched me, his gaze intense.
A smirk played on his lips. "No panties?"
