Royally Screwed
Page 35
Olivia presses a comforting kiss to my shoulder, and we lie against each other in relaxed silence for a few minutes.
But then she rolls over onto her stomach, her long, wavy hair scattering across my torso. “Hey, you know what else I am after I come?”
“What?”
“Thirsty.”
I rub my eye and stifle a yawn. “Yes, I could go for a bottle of water too. There’s a mini fridge just over there.” I point to the far side of the room. “How about you go get us some?”
She burrows under the covers—her arms and legs wrapping like she’s a koala and I’m her tree.
“But it’s so cold. What do you have the temperature set to—arctic?”
“I like it cold. I tend to run on the hot side.” I reach between us, tweaking her peaked, pink nipple. “And there are other benefits.”
“You should go get the water—it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
I roll on top of her, nudging her legs open with my hips, settling comfortably between them, my cock already starting to harden again. “But there are no gentlemen here.” My teeth scrape her lovely neck—gaining a whole new appreciation of vampirism. “And I want to watch you scamper across the floor.” I shift my weight and cup one full breast. “See all these gorgeous parts jiggling along the way.”
Olivia scoffs. “Perv.”
She doesn’t know the half of it.
“I have an idea,” she suggests. “Let’s play a game—a contest. Whoever tells the most embarrassing story gets to stay in the warm bed. Loser has to freeze their ‘parts’ off and get the water.”
I shake my head. “Oh, sweets, you’ve just ensured that you’re going to lose—no one has more embarrassing stories than I do.”
I let Olivia roll us to the side, pushing me off her. She cocks her arm, resting her head in her hand. “We’ll see about that.”
“Ladies first—let’s hear it.”
Slight doubt shadows her features. “I hope it doesn’t bother you…It has to do with…oral sex.”
“Mmm, one of my favorite topics—tell me more.”
And she’s already blushing.
“All right, so, the first time I ever gave a…blow job…I didn’t really know what it was. And since it’s called a ‘blow’ job, I thought you were supposed to—”
She puffs her cheeks out, like she’s trying to blow up an uncooperative balloon.
I fall back onto the pillow, howling. “Christ, you’re lucky you didn’t give the poor lad an aneurism!”
Her cheeks deepen to crimson and she pinches my side as punishment.
“Your turn.”
I stare at the ceiling, deciding. There are so many stories to choose from.
“I shit in a bag once.”
A shocked choke of laughter immediately bursts from Olivia’s lungs.
“What?”
I nod. “I was on the rowing team at boarding school.”
“Of course you were.”
“And, we had a meet at another school, a fair distance away. On the bus back, there was an accident—congestion on the road—and whatever they’d served for lunch was fiercely disagreeing with me. So…it was either my pants or a gym bag. I went with option two.”
She covers her eyes and her mouth, laughing in horror. “Oh my God! That’s awful…and yet hilarious.”
I laugh too. “It was. Especially after it hit the papers. Bloody nightmare.”
And suddenly, Olivia’s not laughing anymore.
Not even a little.
“It was in the newspapers?”
I shrug. “Sure. The more embarrassing the story, the more the journalists will pay. My classmates were always looking for extra cash.”
“But…but they were your teammates. Your friends.”
I toy with her hair, tugging on a curl and watching it bounce stubbornly back into shape.
“It’s like I told Simon, that first night at your coffee shop: everything’s for sale and everyone—everyone—has their price.”
Her eyes search my face, looking so very sad. I don’t like it—not a bit.
I roll over on top of her again, nudging between her legs.
“Do you feel bad for me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Do you pity me?”
Her fingers run gently through my hair.
“I think I do.”
“Good.” I smirk. “That means you get the water. And…when you get back…I want to test your blow-job skills. Make sure you’ve got it right—and if not, I’ll happily instruct you.”
That does the trick. Her mouth pinches to hide her smile and her eyes flash.
“So fucking bossy.” She shakes her head.
But then she gets up to get the water—and I enjoy every second.
And when she crawls back into bed, Olivia gets right to work on that blow job.
And I enjoy that even more.
Eventually, hunger forces us out of bed. Olivia slips into one of my gray hoodies, which covers her to mid-thigh. I try out the “walking around the apartment naked” thing Olivia mentioned. This may be the only shot I have.
And she’s right—it’s rather fantastic. Freeing, everything just out and swinging. Natural—like Adam, if the Garden of Eden were a penthouse suite.
The hot, lusty look Olivia throws me makes it even better.
But then she rolls over onto her stomach, her long, wavy hair scattering across my torso. “Hey, you know what else I am after I come?”
“What?”
“Thirsty.”
I rub my eye and stifle a yawn. “Yes, I could go for a bottle of water too. There’s a mini fridge just over there.” I point to the far side of the room. “How about you go get us some?”
She burrows under the covers—her arms and legs wrapping like she’s a koala and I’m her tree.
“But it’s so cold. What do you have the temperature set to—arctic?”
“I like it cold. I tend to run on the hot side.” I reach between us, tweaking her peaked, pink nipple. “And there are other benefits.”
“You should go get the water—it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
I roll on top of her, nudging her legs open with my hips, settling comfortably between them, my cock already starting to harden again. “But there are no gentlemen here.” My teeth scrape her lovely neck—gaining a whole new appreciation of vampirism. “And I want to watch you scamper across the floor.” I shift my weight and cup one full breast. “See all these gorgeous parts jiggling along the way.”
Olivia scoffs. “Perv.”
She doesn’t know the half of it.
“I have an idea,” she suggests. “Let’s play a game—a contest. Whoever tells the most embarrassing story gets to stay in the warm bed. Loser has to freeze their ‘parts’ off and get the water.”
I shake my head. “Oh, sweets, you’ve just ensured that you’re going to lose—no one has more embarrassing stories than I do.”
I let Olivia roll us to the side, pushing me off her. She cocks her arm, resting her head in her hand. “We’ll see about that.”
“Ladies first—let’s hear it.”
Slight doubt shadows her features. “I hope it doesn’t bother you…It has to do with…oral sex.”
“Mmm, one of my favorite topics—tell me more.”
And she’s already blushing.
“All right, so, the first time I ever gave a…blow job…I didn’t really know what it was. And since it’s called a ‘blow’ job, I thought you were supposed to—”
She puffs her cheeks out, like she’s trying to blow up an uncooperative balloon.
I fall back onto the pillow, howling. “Christ, you’re lucky you didn’t give the poor lad an aneurism!”
Her cheeks deepen to crimson and she pinches my side as punishment.
“Your turn.”
I stare at the ceiling, deciding. There are so many stories to choose from.
“I shit in a bag once.”
A shocked choke of laughter immediately bursts from Olivia’s lungs.
“What?”
I nod. “I was on the rowing team at boarding school.”
“Of course you were.”
“And, we had a meet at another school, a fair distance away. On the bus back, there was an accident—congestion on the road—and whatever they’d served for lunch was fiercely disagreeing with me. So…it was either my pants or a gym bag. I went with option two.”
She covers her eyes and her mouth, laughing in horror. “Oh my God! That’s awful…and yet hilarious.”
I laugh too. “It was. Especially after it hit the papers. Bloody nightmare.”
And suddenly, Olivia’s not laughing anymore.
Not even a little.
“It was in the newspapers?”
I shrug. “Sure. The more embarrassing the story, the more the journalists will pay. My classmates were always looking for extra cash.”
“But…but they were your teammates. Your friends.”
I toy with her hair, tugging on a curl and watching it bounce stubbornly back into shape.
“It’s like I told Simon, that first night at your coffee shop: everything’s for sale and everyone—everyone—has their price.”
Her eyes search my face, looking so very sad. I don’t like it—not a bit.
I roll over on top of her again, nudging between her legs.
“Do you feel bad for me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Do you pity me?”
Her fingers run gently through my hair.
“I think I do.”
“Good.” I smirk. “That means you get the water. And…when you get back…I want to test your blow-job skills. Make sure you’ve got it right—and if not, I’ll happily instruct you.”
That does the trick. Her mouth pinches to hide her smile and her eyes flash.
“So fucking bossy.” She shakes her head.
But then she gets up to get the water—and I enjoy every second.
And when she crawls back into bed, Olivia gets right to work on that blow job.
And I enjoy that even more.
Eventually, hunger forces us out of bed. Olivia slips into one of my gray hoodies, which covers her to mid-thigh. I try out the “walking around the apartment naked” thing Olivia mentioned. This may be the only shot I have.
And she’s right—it’s rather fantastic. Freeing, everything just out and swinging. Natural—like Adam, if the Garden of Eden were a penthouse suite.
The hot, lusty look Olivia throws me makes it even better.
