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How does he know? Are my guilt and loneliness so obvious on my face? Is he wandering in a dark forest too, foliage covered by fog, not knowing what lies ahead but having no choice other than to walk forward?
I square my shoulders and maintain a straight face, even if it feels like a thousand ants are crawling over my body.
Rex suddenly smiles.
Damn it. He must’ve seen something.
His stormy irises darken, and he cocks an arrogant brow. “Unless you’re here for what other women want…”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t even try reverse psychology on me. I spent years in medical school studying the mind. You can’t out-doctor the doctor.”
“But that’s it, isn’t it, little Olive?”
Olive.Only Mia called me that. She used to say her name means “my” in Italian, and since we’re twins, she nicknamed me “Olive.”
My olive. Her best friend. Two peas in a pod.
The sudden pain spears me and I rub the soreness over my heart.
Rex’s eyes snag on the movement. He steps closer, his presence heavy and menacing. Not because I’m afraid of him, but because I suddenly feel naked, all my scars exposed.
I hiccup. “Don’t call me that.”
“You’re like everyone else. You want a good time, don’t you?” A sinful smile curves his lips, one I’ve seen him use on models, actresses alike.
He steps into my space and I back away. “Is that pussy of yours achy, Olive? You want me to clear out those cobwebs? You wantthe Rex-a-Million special and have me fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Is that why you’re here?”
I gasp, shock at his inappropriate words slamming into me. My voice deserts me.
The asshole. Inappropriate. Infuriating. I want to strangle him.
But then, his comment replays in my mind.
A slow, sultry heat moves up my spine, and my pulse batters my ears.
“That’s it, huh? My straitlaced doctor isn’t so innocent, is she? You’re panting. Breathless for me, aren’t you? You know, you don’t need to pretend to care about me as my doctor to get me interested. I’ve never fucked a psychiatrist before and I’m a curious man. Got to try everything once.”
His gaze, the smolder of a devil, dips to my mouth and he rasps, “I wonder how these pretty pink lips would look wrapped around my cock. Do you want to taste it? My dick? My cum? Be used for your three fuck holes, to submit to me and stop thinking, delirious with pleasure?”
His words swirl around my body, brushing against my chest and settling deep inside my pussy. Unwanted images of me kneeling before him—him fisting my hair and using me only for his pleasure—fill my mind. My core clenches and the telltale wetness dampens my underwear.
Why am I turned on by this degradation? What’s wrong with me?
It’s easy to be swept away by the devil in his seductive tempest.
Maybe he’ll make me forget the guilt, the pain, the loneliness.
The hole in my chest.
Don’t let him succeed, Olivia. He’s goading you. These are normal physiological reactions to a virile man. Nothing more.
“Stop it, Mr. Anderson.” My command comes out in a breathy whisper, but it’s better than being silent around this…asshole.
Rex smirks and treads closer. The backs of my legs hit a lounge chair and the next thing I know, I’m gripping the armrests for dear life, my body curving backward.
“Is that why you’re here, Olive?”
He bends toward me, closing our distance, until I can almost taste the sweetness of his cologne, pick apart the unique musk of his skin, see the gold striations in his irises, marvel at how his pupils slowly eat away at the quicksilver. Then there’s the perfect curve of his upper lip, beckoning me to touch it.
