Exposed by Fate Page 16

  He didn’t wait for her response, but delved between her legs and fastened his mouth to her clitoris. And sucked. And sucked. She went wild underneath him, screaming and writhing with such ferocity, he had to grind his dick into the mattress. Her voice went hoarse from begging him to stop, to keeping going, to repeating his name over and over. The screams only registered dimly, the taste of her was too intoxicating, too pure, it pulled him into a state of single-mindedness. Make her come. Make her come again. Oliver lost himself as he traced her slit with his tongue and pushed inside, using his fingers to pet her clit. Fingers ripped at his hair, dug into his shoulders. More. A sound managed to break through his sensual fog and he realized he’d been growling against her pussy.

  “Oliver. Jesus, enough. Stop. I can’t…I need you inside me.”

  Inside her. I can be inside her. He took one final lick and laid a kiss on top of her clit. There wasn’t an ounce of finesse left inside him as he climbed over her glistening body and shoved her thighs wide. He buried the full length of his cock inside her with one rough thrust, swallowing her scream with his mouth. “Shhh,” he breathed against her parted lips. “Remember this. Remember how it feels.” His chest shuddered as he withdrew and sunk into her heat once again. “Put your hands all over me, Eliza. I want to feel them when you’re gone.”

  When her palms stroked down his back, ran over his ass and traced back up to bury themselves in his hair, he made a choked noise. It felt so good to be touched. By her. Is this why he’d been restraining women so long? Had he been saving himself for her hands? Yes. Thank God there was some part of him that hadn’t been given away.

  He wrapped his fingers around the headboard above her head and rolled his hips, driving into her in rhythmic waves. When her eyes grew unfocused, he pressed their foreheads together and willed her to focus on him. She did. The connection he felt to her as he stared into her eyes made him feel raw, exposed. Right where he wanted to be with her.

  “I’m going to miss your eyes,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her eyelids. “I’m going to miss this mouth, this nose…this heart.” Feeling moisture in his eyes and not giving a shit, he laid his lips over the left side of her chest and breathed in the scent of her skin. “I’m going to miss your hands and how they feel in mine. Your laugh. I’ll really fucking miss that.” His climax was an inevitability, looming over him, ready to take him away from her. She’d begun to spasm around him, her thighs clenching around his waist. It didn’t feel like it usually did. Like a mere promise of relief. It felt like parts of him would be swept away when it happened and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Tears rolled down Eliza’s temples, landing on his pillow. “You’ll still see me, Oliver.”

  “It won’t be the same.” His body didn’t care about the anguish careening through him. Only knew being inside Eliza was the feeling it craved.

  She gasped as he picked up his pace, thrusting into her relentlessly. Her hands flew up and curled around his on the headboard. “We agreed, Oliver.” Her toes dug into the muscles of his lower back as she moaned. “Three lessons. No mess. Those were the rules.”

  “Don’t talk to me about rules when I feel like I’m dying,” he growled. “Fuck the rules. I want it all. I want all of you.”

  The headboard rapped against the wall, punctuating her cries as she came apart beneath him. The sight of her shaking, the feel of her, made it impossible to hold back any longer. He crashed into her with a shout and came with such intensity, his vision wavered. Wanting to wring every last ounce of her and capture it with his memory, he brought their lips together and kissed her as they came down from a high he knew he’d never accomplish again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eliza laid beneath Oliver, replete of energy or ambition to ever move again. Her body had been satisfied by his before, an understatement if she’d ever heard one, but this time more than her sexual needs had been met. It made no sense, this glowing beacon trying to shine its way out of her chest. They’d been skin to skin. He’d looked her in the eye and something had transferred between them. Something irrevocable, but she had no idea what. It seemed like the world might end if she never found out, though. I want all of you. His words echoed like they’d been shouted inside a cave.

  Did she dare ask him what he’d meant? He’d been in the throes of climax. She shouldn’t hold him to the words, shouldn’t even bring them up. But in minutes she’d be walking out the door and never knowing would haunt her forever.

  “Oliver.” She ran her fingers down his sweat-slicked back. “What did you mean? You feel like you’re dying…that you want it all—”

  “Are you trying to make this harder for me?” He lifted his head and pinned her with a tortured gaze. “You told me you wanted to get this over with. Now it is.”

  She’d never seen him in so much pain, and it felt as if her throat were closing up. Had she misjudged him? This entire situation? Would he be this upset if it were simply his pride being hurt? It seemed like so much more. Nothing could be worse than seeing him like this. Not even the unimaginable pain that would come with his rejection. Eliza gathered her courage. “What if I don’t want it to be over?”

  He went still on top of her, but she couldn’t read his expression. He looked afraid to move. His voice finally crashed over her in a jagged rush. “Do you mean it? Do you—”

  A loud knock on the door.

  Neither one of them moved.

  “Are you going to get that?”

  He braced his elbows on either side of her, as if he wanted to cage her in. “No fucking way. Talk to me, babe. Tell me—”

  “Oliver,” a voice yelled through the door. “It’s Caroline. You have two minutes to open up or I use my spare key.”

  Eliza pushed at Oliver’s chest and scrambled out from underneath him. Oh my God, oh my God. No way was her best friend walking in here and finding her naked underneath her brother. She would never recover from it. Their friendship would never recover from it.

  “This isn’t happening,” he said, sitting up and burying his face in his hands.

  “Yes, it is. Get dressed,” she whispered, tossing his dress pants into his lap “Where should I hide? Is the closet big enough?”

  When the silence in the room stretched, she looked over and found Oliver watching her from underneath heavy eyelids. His face looked carved from stone. “Did you mean it when you said you didn’t want this to be over?”

  “We can’t talk about it right now.”

  “If you meant it, don’t hide.” He stood and stalked toward her. “Don’t hide.”

  She paused in the middle of zipping her dress to back away, giving him an incredulous look. “Do you hear yourself? This isn’t a decision I can make in under two minutes.”

  “Make it.”

  This was a man she didn’t even recognize. His eyes snapped with temper, his body resembled immovable granite, when moments ago he’d touched her so sweetly, sent her past her peak so many times she’d lost count. He was asking her for the one thing she wouldn’t give him. Not without some rational thought and planning put into it. She wouldn’t cruelly confront Caroline with something of this magnitude. They needed to have a conversation. God, she didn’t even know what Oliver wanted. He stood in front of her making demands, but what would hurting her friend accomplish without knowing where they stood?

  She yanked her zipper up. “I’m not going to hurt her for no reason.”

  Oliver flinched and Eliza’s heart slowed to a dull thud. She reached for him immediately, desperate to explain herself. That she hadn’t meant he wasn’t a good enough reason.

  The key turned in the lock and Eliza froze. Oliver lifted an eyebrow.

  With only a split second to make a decision, Eliza lunged for the closet beside the bathroom and pulled the door shut. She pressed her forehead against the door and rolled it back and forth. Why did it feel like she’d just made an irreparable mistake?

  She heard the heavy apartment door open
and close, then the sound of Caroline’s heels clicking along the hardwood floor. “Hey. Catch you in the middle of something?”

  Oliver’s cleared his throat. “Nope. Absolutely nothing.”

  Those words sent a sharp pain right through her, making Eliza rub the heel of her palm under her breastbone. He sounded so cold. Detached.

  “Which closet is she in?”

  Eliza’s spine snapped straight. Had she heard Caroline right? The heels clicked closer. “Come on out, Eliza. Think of how much more embarrassing it will be if I open the closet door, versus you walking out on your own.”

  Her stomach felt hollow as she let that scene unfold in her head. Caroline was right. But how had she known? Feeling the pressure of tears behind her eyelids, Eliza pushed open the door and stepped out. Caroline had her arms crossed, but apart from a pissed off expression, showed no reaction to Eliza’s appearance.

  “How?” Eliza asked, barely moving her lips.

  “How.” Caroline laughed without humor. “You two have been acting strange for weeks. Oh, and in case everyone forgot, I’m an investigative journalist. I’ve been interviewed on CNN.”

  Eliza refused to look at Oliver, even though she really needed his support in the face of her best friend’s pain. It was there, burning through the anger. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage.

  “I gave you the perfect opening to tell me in the car last night, Eliza. Dammit.” She threw her purse onto Oliver’s couch. “We’re supposed to trust each other with everything. Even something like this.”

  She couldn’t avoid looking at Oliver any longer. Shirtless and rumpled, he leaned against the wall staring out the window toward the East River. Like his mind was already on other, more important things. Hurting worse than she ever thought possible, she returned her attention to Caroline. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

  Caroline glared at Oliver over her shoulder and Eliza couldn’t help but get the impression that her best friend was waiting for Oliver to speak up, too. Wanting him to speak up. “Look, he’s my brother and I love him.” She closed her eyes and huffed out a breath. “But—”

  “But I’ll hurt you.” Oliver pushed off the wall, eyes dark and forbidding. “I go through women like water. I’m a playboy. I’ve taken more women to bed than I can count.” He hurled a glance at his sister. “She thought you were smarter than this, Eliza. Isn’t that what you wanted to say?”

  Caroline bristled. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I only—”

  “She’s right, Eliza.” His hands curled into fists and Eliza thought he might put them through the window, but he planted them on his hips instead. “You are better than me.”

  Eliza wanted to sink down into the floor and weep, but she somehow managed to stay standing upright. She couldn’t remain in the apartment a second longer. Didn’t have time to wonder why Caroline looked disappointed or why Oliver would no longer meet her gaze. All she knew was the two people who she loved most in the world were directing their frustration at her. Maybe never wanted to see her again. She felt gutted. Bereft.

  “Just go,” Oliver shouted, making her jump. “Go.”

  She gathered her shoes and purse, unable to control the sobs that broke free. Before she reached the door, she felt Caroline’s hand on her shoulder. “Eliza, wait—”

  “I can’t. I can’t.” The need to get as far away from any reminder of this mistake weighed down on her. If she had the energy to sprint for the elevator, she would have. She shrugged off Caroline’s hand and dove out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

  As Eliza bypassed the elevator and went for the stairs, the sounds of glass shattering followed behind her.

  …

  I’m going to hate every second of this job.

  Eliza followed Conrad Sterns’ assistant through the frosted glass door leading to the über-modern, palatial estate. Pristine white marble floors spread out in front of her, reflecting the sunlight that beamed down from several skylights. Bobby Darin’s soothing voice played over unseen speakers, old clashing with new. Any other day, she would hum along, let herself get swept up in the music’s nostalgia, but it felt too contrived. Forced. Especially with the giant projection screen on the wall, showing where Conrad had apparently paused Grand Theft Auto in the middle of killing a civilian.

  She wanted to go back to sleep. Not the kind of sleep people did in their beds, although that would work too. She wanted to go back to the zombie state she’d been hiding inside for two days, giving one word answers and excuses that she just needed coffee. In no way was she prepared to have actual discourse with another human being. A human being who could probably pay her salary for the next six months with this job. Earn her a promotion in the process.

  How did one function when their insides felt demolished? By now, she should be an expert, but it only got harder with every step she took. Every breath she drew into lungs still sore from her crying jag Wednesday night. Friday morning had rolled around in the blink of an eye. She couldn’t remember a single second of what had transpired between stumbling from Oliver’s apartment until now. She only knew she hurt. So fucking much. No way to bypass that.

  Had it been her fault? It was as if her brain had placed a mental block on anything that could increase her pain out of self-preservation. The only thing she could process at this point was that she didn’t have Oliver anymore. In the back of her mind, she’d been holding out hope they would go beyond three stupid lessons. She was even woman enough to admit she’d hoped for it since that very first night at Serve, but had placed blinders on her true feelings.

  She loved Oliver. She’d loved him forever. Now, that love was crushing her.

  Caroline had been calling and leaving voicemails, but she hadn’t been brave enough to listen to a single one of them. If she had to hear her friend’s sympathy over falling for a man she’d known damn well was unattainable, it might be the final blow that would knock her down. As much as she wanted to wallow in a tub of Nutella, she worried that once she laid down, she’d stay there.

  Conrad Sterns breezed in through the patio door wearing swim trunks, a towel thrown over his shoulder. “Miss Ballas. Right on time.”

  She tried not to cringe when he gave her the once over. Knowing his eyes liked to roam, she’d dressed modestly today on purpose, pairing a light pink tunic dress with ballet flats. Putting on a professional smile, she walked toward him and extended the hand not holding her giant work portfolio. “Mr. Sterns. Good to see you again.”

  He gave her a conspiratorial look, as if her innocent greeting had meant something intimate. “Same here. I wondered if Preston would come along to keep an eye on you.”

  Her balance pitched at the mention of his name and it took her a moment to catch her breath. Irritation finally found enough room to wiggle in. “I assure you I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me. Shall we go through the house and see what we’re working with?”

  “She’s all business,” Conrad commented to the assistant still hovering behind Eliza, then laughed. “I guess you don’t want me to put a shirt on first.”

  “By all means, get dressed,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll wait here.”

  He leaned back against his black granite dining table and tapped his fingers on either side of his thighs. “I don’t take a meeting with anyone unless I’ve done my research. Your work is more than adequate. There’s no reason for a grand tour.”

  Eliza frowned. “Then what am I doing here?”

  He flicked a glance at his assistant who promptly left the room. “Our association will be advantageous to me.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  There was a long pause before he spoke, but he finally sounded semi-sincere. “Let’s just say that I’m still the new kid in town. Certain social circles are still wary of the guy who earned his money doing things they don’t understand.” He ran the towel over his still-damp hair. “Having Oliver Preston’s girlfriend decorate my house, whatever the fuck that
entails, will give me a name to drop. Maybe more, depending on you.”

  Eliza thought talking to Caroline or seeing Oliver would be the knockout blow to take her down, but this was coming dangerously close. “Me?”

  “Yes.” He encompassed the room with his arms. “You work on my house and Preston gets me past the front door of the old boy’s club. The one he was born into. It’s a small price to pay for the money I’m going to be paying you.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, sounding far-off.

  Conrad smirked. “Your tongue in his mouth the other night said different.”

  If she looked down, she was pretty sure her skin would be crawling. The part of her she’d almost left bleeding on the floor in Oliver’s apartment wanted to turn and storm out. Dive into her car and drive home where she could mourn the last few days in peace. She was surprised to find, though, that there was another part of her. A new addition that hadn’t been there before. Confidence bubbled inside her like the contents of a cauldron. She heard Oliver’s voice, back before he’d tossed her out of his apartment.

  You’re incredibly brave.

  You were spectacular. I’ve never seen anything half as beautiful as you were. As you are.

  She thought of how Oliver shook underneath her hands. The hoarse sounds he made every time they kissed. His hand holding hers so tightly in the cab. I’m really glad you’re here.