All at once I’m reconsidering my choices. Every ounce of my being is itching to storm over, rip off that robe, and claim everyinch of her. “It’s all yours,” I finally admit, leaning against the doorframe, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Well, your shower is nicer than mine, so I’m going to hop in.”
“I’ll leave you to it.”
“Or you could join me?”
A growl gets stuck in my throat. “Fuck, Livy,” I choke out. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to say no to you?”
She turns and walks backward toward the ensuite, taunting me to follow her. “Then don’t.”
The memory of her perfect body is all I’ve had to go on for years, but she’s impossibly more beautiful than I remember. She’s more confident in her skin, and I ache to worship each curve, but rein in the temptation; I have my whole life to touch her.
“I thought you were worried this was a bad idea.”
“I was.” Smiling, she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “But the universe insists on bringing us together over and over and over again. So, for one night, you’re not Prime Minister Banks, you’re not my Isaac from college. You’re just you, and I’m just me. We can go back to pretending we’re just friends in the morning.”
My cock is leaking at the sight of her, while my mind is screaming, “It’s a trap!” But my heart is begging, “Don’t let her off the hook that easily.”
“Livy,” I warn, “it’s not that simple.” She slowly prowls back toward me, not stopping until we’re nearly toe-to-toe. “We’re not friends. I told you once, but it seems you need a reminder; I’m not touching you again until I know you’re mine.”
Her eyes search mine in question, grazing her knuckles up my abdomen. Still, I don’t give in. As her fingers reach my chest, she presses her palm over my heart. “We both know I have been since the first time you kissed me.”
None of this feels real and there’s a good chance I’ll wake up any minute now. Needing to live in this fantasy a little longer, I cover her hand with mine, and admit, “It was one of the best mornings of my life.”
She offers a sweet smile that reaches her eyes, making them sparkle. “No. The night before.”
“I didn’t kiss you on our first date,” I chuckle, mirroring her grin. If I leaned in, just a little, I could steal a kiss from her. Resisting Livy is becoming more difficult by the second.
Her eyes fall to my throat as she lifts her other hand, tracing the outline of my collared shirt along my neck. “Are you sure about that? I stayed up all night thinking about it.”
“I don’t remember,” I lie, recalling saying goodnight to her as if it were yesterday.
“Yes, you do, because you did it again tonight.”
“You mean this?” I press a single, soft kiss to the side of her neck and pull back. The urge to mark her pretty throat with a bright red bruise is overwhelming.
Olivia’s cheeks are flushed, eyes wild—just how I like them. I’m moments away from letting her win. Maybe this was her plan all along. “Yes,” she sighs, her breath catching on her exhale.
“What do you want, Livy?”
“I don’t know,” she admits softly.
My girl has always been an overthinker and I don’t want her to regret anything that happens between us tonight. “Go take a quick shower. I’ll be waiting in the other room until you’re done.”
I step back and with lust-filled eyes, she does the same. Once she’s disappeared, I return to the living space and locate a straw for the margarita. The faint sound of the shower filters into the room, and as I spear the little scored spot on the lid of my drink, the paper straw bends on impact. I groan to myself, completely removing the lid and downing it in four quick gulps. This is all a mistake. The only thing that kept me from practically mauling Livy was her hesitation earlier. Now that she’s not only flirting with me, but inviting me to shower with her, I’m royally fucked.
If I was a smart man, I’d leave the room to her, but my heart and head are at odds. To be fair, it’s not just my heart fighting logic. My entire body aches for her. Every moment since she sat down next to me at the bar has only made it exponentially worse. I love her—always have, always will—and not touching her is painful.
Needing a distraction, I search for a few plates in the kitchenette cabinets, but decide against it. I can recreate our first date a little easier if we share our post-dinner snack straight from the container. The shower shuts off as I’m setting it on the table. It seems she’s taken the fastest shower in the history of man, and I work quickly to kick off my shoes before making my way back into the bedroom.
“Hey, Livy?” I call to the open ensuite door. “Would you like something to change into?”
“Yes, thank you. That would be amazing.”
I rummage through my bag and pull a pair of black joggers and a white tee, tossing them onto the bed. “I set something aside. Let me know if they don’t work.”
Returning to the other room, I prepare myself that she could still ask me to leave. Olivia and I staying in the same bed, with her wearing my clothes, is a terrible idea. How the hell am I supposed to be a foot away from her and not wrap her in my arms, holding her all night?
