Page 53 of The Billionaire Mismatch

“Yes,” I lie.

I hear rustling sounds and some grunting and maybe some swearing under her breath.

“Everything okay over there?” I ask.

“I can’t get my zipper undone,” she mutters.

Jesus Christ.

I throw the blanket off and walk over to her.

“Hey! I said–”

“Just turn around,” I snap back. Then I tug the zipper down and my eyes fall on her bare back. Olivia slips out of the dress, standing in front of me, facing away, in nothing but a matching lace bra and underwear set.

Red.

“Are your eyes closed?” She asks without looking back.

“No, they’re not,” I say. She glances over her shoulder, swallowing hard. I rip my eyes away from her and go back to the bed, shutting the light off before I get another look at her.

And for the world’s longest thirty seconds, we lay in silence.

“This is a nice bed,” she says after a moment.

“It’s alright,” I say.

“Nicer than my bed at home,” she says.

“Please tell me you didn’t buy that at a thrift store,” I say.

“Flea market,” she says, and my jaw comes unhinged. Then she laughs.

“I’m kidding. I wish I could see your face right now,”

“Good night, Olivia.”

“Good night,” she giggles.

I close my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep. To relax even. But it’s nearly impossible. I can smell her. Jasmine and rain, and musk. Her musk…

Olivia rolls over and her knees bump against my legs.

“Sorry,” she says.

I roll over to face her, my hand grazing her breast, making her gasp at the touch.

“Not sorry,” I say gruffly.

Our mouths are close enough that if either of us moves at all, they’ll be touching. I know she knows this. And yet, she tilts her head slightly, and her lips caress mine. I tip my chin upward, and our lips press together.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers.

“Why not?” I ask, my hand finding her bare hip.

“Because…we’re tired…” she says as we kiss.

“Are we though?” I ask. “Because I am suddenly very awake.”