His Fire Inside - Page 22

“Did it at least give you some ideas on what the cool kids listen to? What kind of music do you like?” A half-smile makes it clear she’s teasing me.

Mom laughs as I frown. “Now I listen to more artists like Adele and John Legend. However, I like rap, especially while I work out. I listen to Eminem, Dre, Snoop. Do you even know who Eric B. and Rakim are?”

“Uh, duh, they majorly influenced Eminem, so yes I know who they are. I even know who Afrika Bambaataa and KRS-One are.”

/> It’s hard not to chuckle as Olivia’s eyes widen and she nods, supposedly putting me in my place. “That reminds me.” I reach into my inner suit pocket and offer Olivia two badges. “I got you a few badges that will get you anywhere you want to go.”

Instead of the happiness I expect, Olivia frowns without reaching for the badges. “I appreciate the thought, thank you, but I won’t be using them. I’m not comfortable in crowds. I’ve tried going a few times, and it was too overwhelming for me to actually enjoy myself.”

With a shrug, I tuck the badges back into my inner pocket. “Even better, I won’t have to worry about you roaming the crowds not taking care of yourself.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” she snaps at me.

I shake my head. “You’re too easy a target at only five six, a pretty woman like you, in a crowd you’d be easily overtaken.”

She blushes even as her eyes flash. “Gabe taught me more than enough to take care of myself. Just because I’m little doesn’t mean I’m going to go easily or quietly.”

My phone goes off with a text. “So it begins. I have to go.”

“Be careful, dear. I saw on the news there have already been accidents.”

Careful not to even glance in Olivia’s direction, I leave.

10

Olivia

I can’t sleep. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s almost midnight. I swam for so long even an hour later my fingers are still soft from the water. Every time I close my eyes, the moment of Rourke kissing me comes flooding back. God, just thinking about it has me feeling hot, restless, needy for Rourke. It’s not fair the way he turns me on, making me want him in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else, then can just walk away from it.

He might be used to this, but I sure as hell am not. My random hookup wasn’t good, which isn’t surprising because it was about me proving someone could still want me after years of Connor constantly telling me no one would. Cringing, I fight back those memories, him going on and on about how it proved he loved me because only someone who loved me would put up with me being so fat. Since I was lucky to have him, I should be willing to have sex whenever he wanted. Only I couldn’t because I hated it. It was so uncomfortable. The only good thing about it was it didn’t last very long. I never had an orgasm with Connor. When I figured out he was cheating on me, I was relieved.

In the years during and after my marriage I have made regular use of a vibrator, well, maybe once every other month or so. It had been a gift from my sister-in-law for my bachelorette party, at the time I thought of it as a gag gift. I’m guessing my sister-in-law knew more about Connor than I did. I’ve never really felt like I was missing anything. Even using the vibrator, I never wished it were a man, never imagined having sex or making love with someone.

Using the vibrator was like brushing my teeth, or washing my hair, it was something I knew my body needed. So I did it without taking a whole lot of pleasure out of the necessity of doing it. I watched maybe ten minutes of porn, got turned on enough, used the vibrator for maybe three minutes then cleaned it and put it away until the next time I needed it.

I haven’t used it in almost three months. The desire to use it now is strong and different in every way from previous urges. Now I’m wet from thinking of Rourke alone, not video after video. I don’t want the videos or the piece of plastic; I want Rourke. I want his mouth on mine, his body over me, inside me.

Long after Rourke left me two nights ago, as I reeled from the pain his words lashed at me, I knew it only hurt because he was so right. I am hiding. The time for living in as a CNA is long past necessary. I told myself it was to save to keep going to school, only it took years to get my LPN when it should have only taken a year because I dragged my feet from moving on, away from the holes I was able to hide myself with each patient. To keep from making the decision to become an RN when it wasn’t something I was sure I wanted to be anymore. This whole assignment, I’ve shared more with Cheryl than I’ve shared with anyone in years, always careful to be glib or respond with a joke before turning it back to the client. Only this time I felt the connection to Cheryl and, yes, Rourke instantly, there’s no hiding anymore. I don’t want to hide anymore.

I hear the front door close. Squeezing my eyes closed, I shake my head. Don’t do it, Olivia, you’ll only get burned again. But I’m already burning, I’m already aching, feeling bruised and battered from need. Shouldn’t I at least have something to show for it all?

I’m up before I lose my nerve, wrapping my silky robe around me even though it does nothing to hide the fact I’m in an old, worn oversized shirt and panties. Seven steps, it’s only seven steps from my door to Rourke’s, but it feels like a hundred before I knock on his door. It opens immediately, his face filled with surprise. He’s shirtless, his slacks undone, sliding low on his hips. For a moment I can’t take my eyes off the scarred flesh that takes up half of his chest. I don’t know why the sight of it causes my own chest to twist painfully.

“What’s the matter?”

“I quit.” What? I wasn’t expecting to say that. I had no idea what I was going to say, but it was never that.

His hand shoots out, his grip tight as he yanks me into his room. He closes the door so silently I wonder if it’s really closed. “You aren’t quitting. You aren’t going any fucking where but back to your bed. Do you understand me?”

I shake my head, fighting to find the words. He never gives me a chance: both of his hands are around my arms, pulling me close. I melt into him, desperate to get closer. Yes, this, more. “I haven’t gone without sleep, aching for you for the last three fucking weeks for you to just walk away. No.”

Pressing against him, I moan. “Rourke, please.”

Oh my, that hot, hard, thick part of him jumps against me, pressing deeper into my stomach. “Damn it, Olivia. No, this is wrong. I told you, employees are off-limits, this is my mother’s house, and I don’t have protection.”

I’m horrible for the way his tortured expression thrills me. This crazy, wicked hot desire isn’t just me, he feels it too. I rock my hips against him. “I quit. I’m not an employee, not now, not for tonight. I’m protected, I’ve been on the pill continuously for years, and I’m clean. And your mother never has to know. Please, Rourke. I need you. I can’t take this anymore—”

It’s a replay of the kiss from the kitchen, hot, hungry, taking even as he drew me into him. Too soon it’s not enough. I rub against him, my arms are finally set free as his hands go to my hips, mine go into his soft silky hair. I moan as he deepens the kiss until I swear our souls mate, getting lost in each other. He is my air, my world, my everything; there is nothing but him. When he tears his mouth from mine, he’s torn a part of me away. He rests his forehead against mine, our eyes meeting as we both gasp for air. There are no words; the time for words has come and gone. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, then I’m up in his arms. The room spins and I’m on the bed, and it’s only as he stares down at me I realize I lost my robe and my shirt is barely covering my breasts.

Tags: Fiona Murphy Romance
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