Office Hate - Page 22

Chapter Twelve

Olivia

I let him touch me.

And I wanted him to touch me more.

Instead, I hesitated, my hand wrapped around him. His eyes twinkled with what could only be understood to reflect mischief and mayhem as he slowly pried his body away from mine and walked to the bathroom.

The sound of the shower filled the room.

The light filtered into the master.

Was I supposed to follow him?

Was that an invite?

And why did I find it so sexy? His confidence that I’d just pant after him just because he knew how to use his hands!

And I didn’t mean just for the tools.

I lay back against the bed and sighed.

I imagined a perfect world where water slid down Mark’s perfect body, and he let me lick each droplet off his perfect six-pack.

Maybe he was scared in there…all alone. Snakes had been known to come up through the drains!

In some…countries. I gulped.

I mean, a good human would check on him, right? After all the trauma?

I cleared my throat and stared at the bathroom door, willing it to open, and when another few minutes went by, I finally decided to check on him, like the good person I was.

I jerked open the door and froze.

He was standing there under the rain showerhead looking up at the ceiling, lips parted as droplets of water ran down his flawlessly sculpted chin, down his thick chest, his six-pack, and then…

Damn it.

How was it fair that he was so big? HOW?

As if sensing me, he looked over, and that idiot crooked his finger at me. And what did I do?

Cuss him out?

Point and laugh?

No.

I started stripping.

And then I was walking.

And then I was under the showerhead.

And he was devouring my mouth, and I was letting him because isn’t life too short anyway? Why not taste my enemy? A man who, in another world, would be a friend?

Then again, friends? They don’t taste this way.

They don’t taste like sinning.

Or like I was falling, and only Mark knew how to catch me.

His tongue swirled around mine, and then he was tugging my ponytail out and pulling my hair. Before I knew it, I was jumping into his arms, and he was pumping into me like we were horny teenagers. He felt so big, so good, so right that I just went with it.

It happened way too fast.

Like something you excuse to your parents, oh sorry mom I just fell on top of him, and he just happened to be naked, oh and same here.

Gah, but so… good, so… good. “Don’t stop!” I screamed.

“Never.” He pumped into me, his strong thighs slapping against mine as our mouths collided in a frenzy of kisses, tongue, and need.

“Now,” I begged.

“Bossy,” he replied, slamming his hands against the tile like he needed to hold on to something other than me to go harder.

“Always!” I screamed as I climaxed, feeling him spill into me.

Panting, I opened my eyes.

He didn’t freak out like I expected or push me away and draw a line in the sand. He just kissed me once, twice, three times, and then I lost count as we kissed in the shower and washed each other.

Only to walk out of it and pretend like we didn’t just alter the games.

Office hate plainly back in place as we took our spots on the bed, each of us still breathing heavy.

I wanted to change the game even though I knew it wasn’t possible. I wanted to alter the rules for us even when I told myself it couldn’t happen.

One job.

One opportunity.

What was more important?

Us?

Or me?

Even more confusing, Mark’s hand slowly found mine under the covers as we both fell into a restless sleep, and he laced our fingers together.

Chapter Thirteen

Mark

Well. I did it.

I liked it.

Dreamed about doing it more.

And woke up so hard that it was painful to even look at Olivia when she turned on her side, her dark hair kissing her skin.

It was still early.

And let’s be honest, neither of us wanted to leave that bed. Leaving meant that things were going back to normal.

It meant we were getting dressed and would soon go play another insane Emory game for Max, all in a vain attempt to prove to him we could handle anything he threw at us.

Psychopath.

“So.” Olivia gulped. “Another day in Max’s world. What do you think he’s going to throw at us next?”

“At this point,” I rasped, “I don’t think I’d be surprised if he came riding into our apartment on a velociraptor.”

“Very descriptive. Nice.”

I winked. “Thank you.”

Her smile had always been so soft and pretty, and I’d always appreciated it just as much as her constant scowls.

“I’m surprised nobody’s knocked on the door with our next instructions,” I joked, barely getting the words out when the sound of someone knocking ruined our moment.

“I’ll get it,” she said softly. “You know, in case it’s more snakes.”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance
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