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“We can go with you,” Brenda offered, her concern mirrored by Trevor.
“No, stay. The limo will be at your disposal as soon as it drops us off. Trevor and Brenda will take you home,” Oliver reassured them, his tone firm but kind.
“Are you sure?” Benny asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Positive. We can eat breakfast together tomorrow. Oliver is having his chef come at ten,” I added, hoping to put their minds at ease.
“Sounds awesome. Feel better,” Lisa said, her words echoed by Benny and Diane as they bid us farewell.
“Thank you,” I murmured gratefully as Oliver led me down the stairs to retrieve our coats.
“You made me lie to my friends,” I whispered, feeling a twinge of guilt.
“It will be well worth it, and it wasn’t a big lie. You’ll see them tomorrow morning,” Oliver reassured me, his tone gentle but firm.
“It is tomorrow morning,” I pointed out, glancing at my watch. It was just after midnight.
“Then this morning,” he amended with a playful grin.
Vlad was waiting with the limo at the curb, and I slipped on my wool coat as we exited the club.
“Take it off,” Oliver instructed as we slid inside.
“My coat?” I questioned, confused by his sudden request.
“I’ll settle for your coat right now,” he clarified, his eyes smoldering with desire.
With a coy smile, he shucked out of his coat, and I followed suit, depositing mine on the opposite seat as he had. Oliver wasted no time in seducing me with his tongue and hands as we drove towards the penthouse. By the time we arrived, he had me on the edge of combusting, my body throbbing with need.
“You must love having a chef at your disposal,” Benny remarked between bites of French toast, his mouth full.
“It’s nice, but we don’t call on him that much,” I replied, smiling at the memory of our leisurely brunches.
“If I had a chef, I would never do my own cooking,” Lisa chimed in.
“I like to cook,” I interjected, defending my culinary skills.
“And she does a good job,” Oliver added, his tone fond.
Lisa wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. “You must have gotten better since we were kids. Remember when you burned popcorn and had to throw out the pot because you couldn’t scrub it clean?”
“I was fourteen at the time. I’ve improved since then,” I retorted with a laugh, enjoying the banter with my friends.
After breakfast, we lounged around the living room, enjoying each other’s company. As my friends prepared to leave, Oliver arranged for Vlad to shuttle them home in the limo.
“We should do this again,” I suggested as they gathered their things, and they all agreed enthusiastically.
Still feeling lazy, I opened up the paper and rested my head on Oliver’s sweatpants-clad thigh while he stroked my hair tenderly.
“Thank you for last night,” I said softly, feeling a surge of affection for him.
“You mean this morning?” he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
“That too,” I replied, smiling up at him.
“What’s gotten into you?” I asked, curiosity piqued by his unusually tender demeanor.
“You don’t know?” he replied, his gaze intense.
