Always.
Ollie pushed my thighs apart as he looked down with hooded eyes. His two thumbs spread me wide as he eased his hard length inside me slowly. Our bodies melted as his eyes screwed shut. “I fucking love that, Mia.” He kissed me. “I literally can’t move for a second … you’re swollen around me, pulsing, thumping. It’s the second-best feeling in the world.”
He grabbed the back of my head, and his mouth claimed mine. Greedy yet gentle, our tongues flowed as I rolled against him. Ollie moaned as his hand ran up my side and grabbed my breast. His other hand grasped my bottom as I circled over him, taking him deeper.
He dropped his head into my neck, and I took advantage of his weakened state and pressed against his chest until he was lying flat on his back. His green eyes scoured my face and body as I slowly rolled my hips against him, taking him deep and sending his head back.
He gripped my thighs. “Dammit, Mia …” he moaned. Ollie tensed as his hands pinned me still, breath held as he pulsed inside me until his body went slack and his eyes clenched shut.
Ollie’s chest reached for air underneath my fingers, and he opened one eye and squinted. “Seven days is too long because that was fucking embarrassing for me.” He chuckled and gripped my wrist, bringing me on top of him. My chest crashed against his, and Ollie moved the hair from my face and looked into my eyes. “I love you, Mia, and I’ll never not want you.”
“What did you mean ‘the second-best feeling in the world’?”
Ollie pressed his brows together as his forehead wrinkled. “I tell you I love you and you’re stuck on that?” I nodded, and he smiled. “The best feeling is the way you look at me.” He shook his head as if nothing he could say would measure up. “The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m someone important, you know? Someone you appreciate, and I’m deserving of you in return. I’m someone you’re in awe of, and that feeling is the best feeling in the world, and I’ll gladly spend forever making sure I’m worthy of that look.”
My flushed cheeks dropped into the curve of his neck. “You read too many books,” I said through a giggle.
He rolled me over to my side and held my waist. “Oh, come on now, love. It wasn’t even a line. It came from my mind.”
“Uh huh … you’re a poet, and you didn’t even know it?”
Ollie laughed. “That was genius … as skilled as my penis …”
“No, you didn’t just say that …”
“Don’t deny it, love, because you can’t get enough.”
“Okay, stop, Slim Shady.”
“Alright, alright, I’m done. That was fun.” He laughed out. “Shit, why can’t I quit?”
Smiling, I pressed my lips to his to help him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“If reality becomes unbearable, closeyour eyes.
We were made with an imagination.”
—Oliver Masters
SCHOOL WOULD RESUME from the Christmas holiday in precisely three days. One more day was all I had asked from Ollie before he told Dean Lynch everything. Only one more day. His only plan was telling the truth about what had happened in his room.Truth. Not only would this take away our nightly get-togethers, but this was grounds for punishment for the four of us.
I sound selfish, I know. Our nightly get-togethers didn’t hold a candle to what this could mean for Ollie and his future, but Ollie was very adamant about being an honest man.
“How can I continue to love you if at the end of the day I can’t even love myself?”he had asked me the night before.“And if I don’t do this, Mia, not doing the right thing turns into regret, and regret turns into hate, and the hate will slowly grow into resentment, and I never want hate or resentment to reside in either one of our lives, no matter theoutcome.”
And no matter how quickly I could forget what had happened in his room after midnight on New Year’s, I knew this was something he could never forgive himself for if he chose to stay quiet.
It was breakfast time, and Zeke acted strange as he rocked back and forth in his chair. “Ollie will be here soon,” I said to him, trying to ease his nerves, but it didn’t seem to work.
Ollie had gone to visit Bria at the nurse’s station early this morning. Jake and Alicia sat at the old table, and I hadn’t seen Isaac’s face since New Year’s. I couldn’t say I wasn’t relieved.
One good thing about Ollie coming clean: I would never see Isaac or Oscar again.
I couldn’t bring myself to see Bria yet, but there was one thing I never was good at—being there for others when something terrible had happened. Over the last ten years, if someone had a loved one pass away, I’d steered clear of engaging in conversation. Empathy had never been a strong suit of mine, and in my defense, I hadn’t had feelings, so really, I’d been doing them a favor. Though I had feelings now, I’d become socially awkward—never knowing the right things to say. I’d learned words were like swords. Once the words left your mouth, they couldn’t be taken back. They couldn’t be erased. Words, once they were in the air around you, would forever leave marks—imprinting the world.
Sometimes the best things to say was nothing at all.
