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I nodded, trying to keep my composure. "Of course, now."
He glanced at his watch, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It's still early."
"Yes, it is," I admitted, my heart racing. "But I don't trust myself with you."
Oliver's eyebrow arched. "Why?"
I let out an exasperated sigh. "You know why."
"No, I don't," he insisted, taking a step closer.
My patience wore thin. "Do I have to spell it out for you? S-E-X."
A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "So, you think I want to get you into bed?"
In a moment of reckless abandon, I did something I shouldn't have. I placed my hand over the bulge in his shorts, feeling his hardness beneath my palm. Oliver's sharp intake of breath was all the confirmation I needed.
"This is what I mean," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "You're aroused by just our kiss."
I let him go, but Oliver wasn't done. He reached up, thumb grazing my nipple through my thin shirt. "I'm not the only one," he murmured. "Face it, Ryleigh, we're highly attracted to each other. We're perfect together."
I pushed his hand away, fighting against the heat building within me. "I still want you to go."
Oliver's eyes darkened with desire. "Are you sure?"
Anger flared within me, cutting through the haze of lust. "Is that why you came over here? You wanted a quick fuck?"
"I came over to talk," he said firmly, his jaw clenching. Then, his voice softened, "And quick when it comes to sex isn't in our vocabulary."
Despite myself, I felt a smile tugging at my lips. "We've had quickies," I argued.
Oliver stepped closer, his scent enveloping me. "But we both enjoy long, slow lovemaking. I want our reunion to be memorable."
I stood abruptly from the lounger, needing to put distance between us. Oliver followed suit, his presence overwhelming in the small space.
"You need to leave," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "Now, before..."
"Before what?" Oliver challenged, his eyes locked on mine.
I swallowed hard, fighting against the urge to close the distance between us. "Before I do something we both might regret."
The air crackled with tension as we stood there, mere inches apart. I could feel the heat radiating from Oliver's body, see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Every fiber of my being screamed to give in, to let him stay, to lose myself in his embrace.
But I knew if I did, we'd be right back where we started, papering over our problems with physical intimacy instead of addressing them head-on.
With herculean effort, I took a step back. "Goodbye, Oliver," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
As he turned to leave, the look in his eyes – a mixture of desire, frustration, and something that might have been hope – nearly undid my resolve. But I held firm, watching him go, knowing that this time, if we were to find our way back to each other, it had to be on different terms.
Chapter 25
I couldn’t sleep, and it was all Oliver’s fault. The throbbing between my legs hadn’t subsided, even after a cool shower. I was debating whether to resurrect my vibrator, but the batteries were probably dead since it had been so long. I just hadn’t felt like sex until now. My body was a raging fire, and I kicked off the sheets, disturbing Trouble, who was sleeping against my legs.
He grumbled and jumped off the bed, settling in his spot near the dresser. I turned on my side and glanced at the clock—2:14 a.m. At this rate, I would be a zombie when it was time to wake up. I felt around the nightstand for my phone and tapped out a message to Oliver.
I know you’re not awake, but I can’t stop thinking about you.
I was very surprised when I heard my phone ping with an incoming text. I checked, and it was a reply from him.
