I slowly walk up to her, and her eyes are warm as she watches me approach. I was afraid she might not be happy to see me, busting in on her place of business and all, but it appears I've managed to charm her with my actions.
Reaching out, I dig the tips of my fingers just half an inch into the front waistband of her jeans and give her a little jerk to pull her closer to me. Whispering to her, I say, "I'm wondering if I need to get you some flowers or something to make sure I get laid tonight."
She looks up at me through heavy, dark lashes, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Um...no. Your track record speaks for itself. I think you're golden tonight."
"Excellent," I murmur, then brush my lips against her temple. She emits a tiny shiver, but then pulls away from me.
"So, what are you doing here?" she asks genially as she turns her back to walk into the design area. See...that's what I love about her. She doesn't fall all over me, desperate for my attention. Not that I'd argue if she did fall all over me...but she knows she doesn't need to. I like that bit of cocky attitude in her.
I follow Olivia, looking around with interest at the back room where she works. A large walk-in cooler in stainless steel sits on one wall, while another has floor-to-ceiling shelving that holds glass vases, clay pots, and an entire array of stuff that I have no clue what it is. Arrangement-making stuff, I guess. A large square table sits in the center of the room, and there is a massive basket of flowers sitting on it.
"I couldn't wait until eight o'clock to see you. Just thought I'd hang out...if that's okay with you and Stevie, that is."
"Sure," she says with a quick smile, then plops down on a stool in front of the basket of flowers. "You can keep me company while I work."
I take the stool next to her and rest my forearms on the table. Olivia is silent for a while as she works, taking long-stemmed flowers of different colors and poking them into the basket. I stand up from the stool and lean over the top to watch what she's doing.
"What's holding the flowers in place?"
"Just some foam block that I've taped into the bottom," she says. "It holds water to keep the flowers fresh."
Sitting back on the stool, I continue to watch as she tucks flowers in all around, slowly building up the arrangement until it's nearly bursting. "It's beautiful. You're really talented."
"You're sweet," she says as she cuts her eyes over to me. I see pure happiness in her face, and I'm wondering if it's because she's glad that I'm here or she really loves what she's doing. I'm guessing the latter, although she doesn't seem put out that I showed up announced and totally invaded her work space.
"So...tonight," I say casually. "I was thinking about having dinner at my house."
Olivia keeps her eyes on her work, now picking up some long green leaves and tucking them in around the outer edges of the basket. "You can cook?"
"Um...no. But we can pick something up or order in."
"Where do you live?" she asks curiously.
"In Raleigh."
"Gosh...I'd hate to have you take me all the way there, then have to bring me back to Chapel Hill. Makes for a really late night."
"Easy enough to solve...just stay the night with me."
Olivia turns and cocks an eyebrow at me. "A sleepover, huh?"
I shrug nonchalantly. "Sure...why not? I slept over at your place last night, you stay at my place tonight. We're even."
Chuckling, Olivia stands from the stool and steps back from the table, giving a critical eye to the arrangement. "Tell you what...I'm liking this notion of a sleepover at your place, but how about I follow you there so you don't have to bring me back in the morning?"
"Now, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me if I were to let you drive to our date," I tell her.
Snickering, Olivia turns and walks up to me. Laying a hand on my knee, she says, "Is that what you're calling this? A date?"
Her words aren't censuring, and I get that she's even a little amused by this notion, but I don't want her thinking that I take her for granted. "Yes, it's a date. It's where two people spend time together to get to know each other. In fact, I'll swear right now I won't even touch you. We can put on our PJs--or get totally naked, I don't care which--and watch movies all night, if that's what you want."
Olivia's eyes get a little guarded. "Where did Garrett Samuelson, the player who wants to put notches in his bedpost, go?"
"He's still there," I tell her sincerely. "I'm just figuring out that maybe he wants something more than a notch with you."
The cynic in most would say, How convenient. You're taking a woman to your house. Kind of obvious what you have planned, dude.
And, yeah...I had planned on spending a lot of time tonight in my bed with her. But that's not the only reason I'm bringing her to my house. My ulterior motives are not so selfish.
I invited Olivia to my house because I want to share a different part of me with her. I've never brought another woman that I've fucked over to my house. It's private...all mine, and because my "relationships" are always so tenuous...absolutely fleeting...I never have wanted to share anything of myself before. Plus...don't want some crazy stalker chick to know where I live.
But that's not Olivia. While she was completely all in last night, giving me everything she had to give, and fucked me like no one else has, she wasn't doing it because she wanted to get in good with me. She wasn't trying to seduce me into a relationship, or find herself a hockey husband. She gave me all she had because she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
I also know that she's not charmed by my success. She isn't stuck on the fact I'm a professional athlete. She's never once simpered over my star power or asked hesitant questions about my money. She seems oblivious to it all, and only wants to be with me...the person that is Garrett Samuelson. It's nice...being desired for something other than my bank account or celebrity.
So, I figured I'm going to dive right in. I think Alex may be right...I think I might have it a little bad for Olivia. Not sure if it's her slammin' body, her smile, or her sweet southern accent. I can't tell if it's because she radiates this strange mix of happiness and sadness or if it's just because she's so uninhibited and passionate. Hell...maybe it's just because I'm ready for something different and she's the first option available to me.
"Okay...let's compromise," she says as she picks the basket of flowers up off the table. "Let's have our 'date' at your house, but I'll follow you over there because I have an appointment early tomorrow and I don't want you to have to drive me back."
"I don't mind--" I try to assert, but she cuts me off.
"I'm driving...deal with it, buddy."
Olivia disappears briefly into the cooler with the basket and emerges with another handful of loose flowers and greenery. She walks back up to the table and lays them in the middle.
I decide to try one last-ditch effort to let me drive her to my house. "I really think you should let me--"
Raising her hand, Olivia places her fingertips on my mouth. She strokes her thumb over my bottom lip and murmurs, "I'm driving, Garrett. No arguments."
Her tone of voice says it will be futile to stay in this battle, so I just nod at her.
Leaning in, she removes her fingers and replaces them with a warm brush of her lips. "And, Garrett...I most certainly don't want you to be gentlemanly with me tonight."
I can't help the groan that pops free and rumbles into her mouth. I bring my hand to the back of her head and pull her in deeper to the kiss.
Yeah...Alex is right. I have it bad for Olivia.
--
"Wow," Olivia says, her eyes wide with interest as she steps out of her car to look at my house. "This is just...wow."
"Impressed?" I ask with a grin, waggling my eyebrows at her as I shut the door to my own car. "Going to get me laid tonight?"
She snorts...so unladylike, yet damn...it makes me want to kiss her.
"More like flabbergasted," she says with awe as she takes in my six-thousand-square-foot monstrosity
of gray slate stone and rough-cut timbered siding. It sits on a heavily wooded acre-sized lot with river birch trees gracing both sides of the driveway.
I reach into the back passenger seat of her car and pull out the duffel bag that she had quickly packed when we drove over to her apartment. "Come on...I'll give you the grand tour."
Once we get inside, I drop her bag to the floor. "Welcome to my humble abode."
"There's nothing humble about this place," she says, her chin tilted up to look at the two-story foyer and double wrought-iron staircase that leads up to the second floor. "What can one man possibly need with all this room?"
Chuckling, I take her hand and lead her back to the kitchen. "I don't need all this room. It's actually kind of a pain in the ass to take care of."
"So why did you buy it?" she asks me.
"When you're young and have more money than you know what to do with, you sort of buy things," I tell her by way of sheepish explanation. "We didn't have a lot growing up, so I guess I went a little crazy. Plus...I got a really great signing bonus with the Cold Fury."
Olivia releases my hand and walks over to my Italian six-burner gas range with double oven. I think I've used it a grand total of three times in the last year, and that was to cook frozen pizzas. She runs her hand over the shiny silver surface like it's a precious piece of art...which is cool, because, hey...it cost about the same. I lean back against the counter, placing my hands by my hips, and watch her. She fiddles with the knobs, lost in thought.
"Does it make you feel better...buying expensive things?" she asks softly as she turns to run her hand over the gray granite countertops.
"Not really," I answer her truthfully. "Except my parents' house. I paid that off for them. Tried to buy them a new one, actually, but they wouldn't accept. And I've paid my brother and sister's college loans off. That felt awesome."
"So you're not in the game just for the money?" she asks as she turns to walk toward me.
"No. The money's nice, but I'd play for free. Hell...I'd pay to be able to play hockey."
Olivia steps in close with a smile and rests her hands on my hips. I inhale deeply, smelling her light floral perfume and looking at the various colors that play through her long hair.
Reaching up, I tug on the end of one braid...so very happy she kept them in. "What do you feel like eating tonight?"
She presses in closer to me and rests her chin on my chest, looking up at me through fluttering lashes. "Would it be completely slutty if I said I felt like eating you tonight?"
Oh, fuck.
Lust, hot and boiling, courses through me, and I'm pretty confident we won't just be watching movies tonight. "Not slutty at all," I practically croak. "But only if I can reciprocate."
"Mmmm," she says with a breathy moan. "Sounds nice. But we should probably eat some real food, don't you think? Just so we can keep up our stamina?"
I move my hands from the counter to her hips, spreading my fingers wide across her lower back, and pull her in closer. Olivia hisses and jerks backward, and I immediately release her.
"Fuck! Did I just hurt you?" I ask, and reach my hands out helplessly to her.
She gives me a pained smile and gingerly touches the back of her right hip. "No, it's okay. I just banged my hip today. It's fine. Just a little cut."
"Shit, I'm so sorry."
Olivia immediately steps toward me. Taking my hands in her own, she physically wraps my arms around her, placing them just a little higher up on her back. "It's fine, Garrett. Just try to avoid that area tonight."
"Good thing you got lots of other places for me to explore," I tell her with a relieved smile.
"That I do," she says impishly. "Now feed me...I'm starved."
Chapter 10
Olivia
"Oh, God...Garrett...I'm so close," I groan.
So damned close.
While I had every intention of giving Garrett a blow job tonight--because I very much want to eat him all up--he's decided to take control of our evening. After slurping down some lo mein with a chilled bottle of white wine, Garrett decided to bypass our idea of watching a movie and hauled me off to his bedroom. He got no argument from me, because it's what I wanted too...just one more night of all my worries being chased away.
I got flashes and peeks of his house as I hung upside down on his shoulder, because when I say he hauled me off...I mean he literally picked me up and threw me over his shoulder like a caveman. His house is beautiful...full of rough, dark hardwoods and muted throw rugs. His furnishings are traditional but masculine in taupes and browns, with maybe a splash of red here and there. It's clear someone decorated this house for him. I'm expecting maybe a professional interior designer, because Garrett doesn't seem the type to be interested in that stuff.
Garrett surprised me by gently laying me down in the middle of his bed.
"Is your hip all right?" he asked with concern in his eyes.
"It's fine," I assured him, because I didn't want him to worry about it. I wanted his full concentration on other things, and seriously...it doesn't hurt that much. Unless you happen to press a finger right into it, which he inadvertently did in the kitchen.
And as I said...he took control, quickly pulling me out of my clothing and dispatching his own. After getting a condom out of his nightstand drawer, he proceeded to crawl between my legs and bring me to a stunningly fast orgasm with just his tongue. I was amazed at how quickly I peaked, but then again...I'm in a perpetual state of arousal over this man.
He's outgoing, down to earth, and funny as hell. He exudes a natural charm, and don't forget he's almost too beautiful for words and has the sexiest body I've ever seen on a man. So, yeah...all he has to do is look at me with that heat in his eyes, and I'm already ninety percent there on achieving climax.
After I came down from my bliss, he did nothing more than crawl up between my legs and start kissing me. Gentle, deep kisses that made my pulse flutter and my muscles tense in yearning. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth, my face, my jaw, and my neck. Then he worked his way back down to my breasts until I was panting hard and on the verge of begging him as he licked and bit at my nipples.
And then he was inside me, moving deliciously slow for a while, until I had to remind him to stop being so gentlemanly. He placed a palm on my cheek and said, "I don't want to hurt you."
For a moment, it seemed that those words had a different meaning, because Garrett has always made it clear...he's the type of guy to fuck and run. I know that. I expect no different, and frankly, I'm sort of banking on that. I've got some heavy shit in my life I'm dealing with, and I don't need my heart tied up in a guy that doesn't have the staying power for a normal relationship, much less one where cancer is involved.
But then I realized he was worried about me lying on my back, and the tiny cut on my hip, and I hastily reassured him. "I'm good...I don't even feel it."
He never picked up the pace, though, still moving in and out of me with deep but careful thrusts.
But that just wouldn't do at all. I had demanded he go harder, and although he tried to ignore me at first, my nails in his ass urged him on until he was moving faster and faster within me.
Our mutual groans filled the air as we desperately kissed and clawed at each other, working ourselves up into a frenzy. Then another orgasm welled up inside me.
"So close," I murmur again, jacking my legs up higher and clamping my knees against his ribs.
"Fuck," he gasps as he starts really tunneling into me deep. "Me too."
My back arches off the bed as I start to come, and I bite down on Garrett's shoulder to keep from screaming. He thrusts hard into me one last time, squeezes his eyes shut, and groans long and hard with every muscle in his body tensed up as his orgasm washes over.
He immediately collapses boneless on top of me, but stays there only a second before he's rolling off. He reaches down and pulls the condom off, tossing it on the floor. Gross...what a guy!
Garrett pulls me in c
lose to his body so I'm lying on my left side. He doesn't say a word, but I know he does that to get the pressure off my right hip.
I don't like that, because it causes tender feelings to ignite within me, and feelings are not something I wanted to bring into this mix. I had finally reconciled myself to the fact that I was selfishly taking something from Garrett that I wanted and needed at this time in my life, without even giving him the courtesy of why I was doing it. I mean...I figured, why should I? Garrett was getting something too. In my pants. He wanted that from the get-go, so he really doesn't need to understand my motivations.
I figured we would have a few days of fun, then he would get tired of me and go on his way. Now I can tell you that I could never get tired of what we just did, and I certainly don't ever see myself building up an intolerance to his charm and humor, but I also know that he's not the type to do relationships, and I can't afford for my feelings to get mashed up with someone right now. My heart needs to stay beating strong and true to help get me through this perilous journey I'm on.
Garrett cuddles me close, and I rest my head on his chest. His heart rate is still galloping, but over time it eases back down. My fingers idly stroke the skin over his ribs and his caresses my hip.
"So, as far as candy goes...I'm partial to Snickers," Garrett says out of the blue.
I lift my head to grin at him. "Is this your attempt at pillow talk?"
He shrugs and I lay my head back down on his chest. "Just trying to get to know you better. What's your favorite candy?"
Trying to get to know me better? Why? By my watch, I have probably less than ten hours left before Garrett's interest will wane. He's admittedly avoided relationships and monogamy. I'm sure I'll get the perfunctory kiss on the cheek come morning and the promise of a call that will never come.
"Candy, Olivia," Garrett prods me. "What's your favorite?"
"M&M's...peanut," I say distractedly.
"I like those too," he says quietly. "They're chocolaty and nutty. But then again, so is Snickers, plus it has extra gooey stuff in there."
"You're a dork," I say with a stupid smile on my face that he can't see. I don't want him to see exactly how interesting and funny I find him to be. Instead, I change the subject up a bit, because I have curiosities. "So, what exactly do you do in your preseason practices?"