“Mmm. That sounds good.”
A knock at the door had her spine snapping straight.
“Livy?” Brooke called out. “Just wanted to check on you.”
Olivia tried to jump out of his arms, but he held her firm. “Scott! I need to get dressed,” she whisper-yelled. “How could I have forgotten she was on her way here? She could’ve walked in on us. Look at me. I’m a mess. My hair isn’t done. I don’t have makeup on, and I’m in sweats!”
He chuckled. “I’m still wearing a condom, so I think I have you beat.”
She chuckled even as she slapped his arm. “Go in the bathroom while I get myself presentable.” Then she called out. “Be right there, Brooke! My God, I never let anyone see me like this.”
He frowned and grabbed her wrist before she had a chance to dart to her dresser. “Throw on some shorts, but otherwise, stay like this.”
Her eyes bugged. “What?” She ran a hand through her hair. “No. I can’t.”
He tugged her close. “You’re beautiful like this. Brooke doesn’t give a shit what you’re wearing or if you have makeup on. I guarantee she isn’t wearing any. You’re stunning like this. All soft and warm.” He slid an arm around her waist under the T-shirt, stroking the soft skin of her hip. “Please. It reminds me of fucking you, and I don’t want to think of anything else.”
She chewed her lower lip, but he saw he’d won.
“Livy, you okay?” Brooke called.
He kissed her.
“Okay fine.” Rolling her eyes, she waved at his crotch. “Just get rid of that thing, please!”
Chuckling, he slapped her ass as she turned toward her dresser. She yelped and shot him a glare. “Coming, Brooke!”
He slipped into the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
Much as he loved his president’s ol’ lady, Brooke better make it fast because he planned on spending the rest of the day buried in the best pussy he’d ever had.
After they talked.
And that thought took care of the re-emerging boner he’d worried Brooke would notice.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
OLIVA SHIMMIED HER jeans up one leg the second after her bathroom door snicked shut, concealing Scott.
Tingly pops of energy skittered across her skin from head to toe. The orgasm had shaken her to her core. Even Brooke’s intrusion hadn’t dampened its powerful effect.
So that made twice in less than twelve hours she and Scott had ignored their awkward tension in favor of out-of-this-world pleasure. The universe had to be playing a prank on her. Why else would she have climaxed harder than ever at the hands and cock of a man who hated her?
Though he did seem to be moving past the hatred.
But what the hell did it mean, and where did it go from there? She was keeping a very large secret from him about why she’d fled to Florida. And now that Lance had discovered her new phone number, she might be in danger. Was this time to tell him?
A headache began at her temples.
“Coming!” she yelled at the door as she hopped on one foot while trying to get the other in the jeans. The irony of screaming that word wasn’t lost on her. Somewhere in there hid a damn good joke.
As she buttoned the jeans, she closed the final distance to the door. “Hey, sorry!” She opened the door to find a frowning Brooke. “I was in the middle of getting dressed.” She glanced down. “If you can call this dressed.”
That earned her a smile. “Yes, Liv, you can call that dressed. Jeans and a T-shirt are pretty much my uniform,” Brooke said as she indicated to her own denim shorts and T-shirt. “What you wear every day is dressed up.”
Laughing, Livy moved aside. “Come in. Want some coffee?”
“I’ll take a whole pot.” Brooke followed her to the small kitchen. As she dropped into a chair at the two-seater table, she yawned. “Sorry.”
“Please,” Olivia said as she poured a cup of coffee for her friend. “I’m sure you got about as much sleep as I did… maybe three hours.” She walked the beverage to the table before grabbing sugar and creamer and taking a seat.
“Yeah. Curly was up with Ty most of the night, fixing some security holes and planning. We need a way to know if and when someone like Dante gets on the property. Or better yet, make it so they can’t.” She yawned again, then shook her head. “Anyway, I don’t sleep well when Curly isn’t there, so I tossed and turned. You?”
“Yeah.” Olivia tapped her aching right temple. “Couldn’t turn it off.”
At Brooke’s innocent question, the reason for Olivia’s lack of sleep came rushing back with a vengeance. Sex with Scott gave her a few moments of reprieve, but this was a problem she couldn’t hide from or shove under the rug. Not without putting others in danger. Her friend would assume she hadn’t slept because of what had happened to her the previous night. She’d be correct, only not about which event had kept her up. What had her life become that a near assault and the arrest of Scott pale in comparison to a pre-dawn text message?