Exposed by Fate (5 page)

“We need to get comfortable with each other first,” Oliver managed, barely hearing himself over the pounding in his temples. He stepped forward, stifling a groan when her knees opened to brush the outsides of his hips. So easy. It would be so easy just to take her on this stool. He knew when a woman wanted to be filled up by him. Could almost feel the throb between her thighs, one he’d created. She would let him rip off her panties and plant himself deep, she’d
love
it.
He’d
love it.

But if he took her simply because he wanted to, it would blur everything between them. She’d come to him for a reason, and it wasn’t for a quick, dirty romp. No matter how satisfying. No, she’d trusted him to teach her, give her the knowledge she would need to be safe. He wanted her safe.

“Comfortable?” She whispered the word against his mouth.

Oliver breathed deeply, immediately wishing he hadn’t when her white roses scent kicked him in the gut. “Yes.” He leaned in and ran his open mouth along her jawline. “You should always know the person you’re with. You can’t have trust otherwise.”

“But I already trust you,” she protested on a whimper, tipping her head to the side. “We’ve known each other forever.”

“No.” He dragged his teeth up the side of her neck, growling when she trembled. “You know me as Oliver, your friend’s brother. The guy who gave you platonic hugs and wished you luck on your exams. The guy who asked you about your college classes or whether or not you liked your professors.” With one hand, he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head so he could speak very precisely beside her ear. “I’ve got news for you, Eliza. I didn’t give a fuck about your classes or your professors. I wanted to get you alone and screw your little college coed body silly.”

She moaned loudly and scooted closer to him on the stool, stopping just short of his groin. “I—you did? I didn’t know…”

He forced her to look him in the eye. “There’s your first lesson. You never really know anybody. So be careful who you trust. Say it, Eliza.”

“Be careful who I trust.”

“Not just with your body. With all of you.” He took a hungry pull from her mouth, the perfect taste of her making his thoughts go fuzzy. Struggling to get them back he said, “There’s more than sex at stake here. You’re abandoning your will…but you can always take it back. Remember that.”

She moved ever-so-slightly closer, and the heat between her legs finally reached him, cradling his pulsing erection. They groaned into each other’s mouths. He caught her legs halfway on their ascent to his waist and jerked them high, tight.
Out of control.
This was getting out of control.
Slow. Down
.

Oliver picked her up off the stool and strode toward the living room. Halfway there, her mouth had already tempted him half out of his mind, so he slowed to a stop at the edge of his couch and took what she’d offered, twining their tongues together mercilessly, not satisfied enough to stop until she was clawing at his back. Trying her best to climb higher on his body. He took one more step and brought her ass up against the back of his couch, rubbing his ready cock against her. No way of stopping himself. Eliza’s mouth broke from his on a sob. Her eyes were heavy with lust. Gone. So gone. He needed her. Just like this. How could he pass this up?

His brain raged at him to reign in his need, take things one step at a time, but his hands weren’t listening. They dragged her skirt higher, higher until it was bunched around her waist. White panties…wet at the center…fuck. Rife with anticipation, he reached between their bodies and cupped her pussy.

“
Oliver
,” she gasped. “Oh my God.”

A tide rose inside him. He didn’t recognize the feeling that was suddenly choking off his oxygen, but his confusion didn’t decrease its potency. Something about the way she felt in his hand, looked at him with absolute trust. He didn’t feel like himself, but at the same time, he’d never felt more at home in his skin. In the midst of it all, a storm raged. One he didn’t see coming until the clouds had darkened ominously, directly overhead. Eliza writhed against his hand, a sight he demanded his overwhelmed conscious commit to memory. Watching her reaction closely, he pressed a firm thumb to her clit.

“Yes, there.
There
.”

Such an easy action and she acted like her world would implode if he stopped. Oliver tried to laugh, but it only sounded like pain escaping. She had no idea what he was going to do to her. What he’d make her feel…

Only, it wasn’t just him. He would merely be getting her ready for another man. If not Porter, someone else. A denial broke from his lips. The storm clouds exploded, raining scalding hot drops over him, burning his skin. He’d lost his ability to filter his words, and they fell from his lips now as they moved over her cleavage feverishly. “He didn’t deserve this. I told him to stay the fuck away from you, babe. He didn’t
deserve
you. No one does.”

It took him a moment to register that she’d gone still against him. Why wasn’t she begging anymore? Her hands were no longer busy in his hair. She’d just shut down. No, please. No way he would survive if she asked him to stop this. His cock strained against the fly of his pants, seeking her heat, but she let her legs drop from around his waist. Feeling his first frisson of panic, Oliver searched her eyes and found them free of the desire he’d seen banked there. Heat had been replaced with shock, anger.

“What did you do, Oliver?” She yanked her skirt back down when she saw his obviously starved gaze tracking over her toned thighs. Gorgeous. So gorgeous. “Answer me.”

“What did I—” His memory caught up with the situation. “Ah.”

She looked ready to slap him upside the head. “Ah?”

He breathed through his nose, trying to regain some sense of control, but it was hard to do when she still stood so close, smelling and looking like heaven. “You don’t know Porter, Eliza. You don’t know what he’s into…what he’d ask you to do.”

“And
you
know him?” She didn’t want for his answer, but pushed on, affront evident in every line of her body. “No. You don’t. And we
had
talked about it, actually.”

“Really.” Now he was getting pissed, too. Why were they standing there talking about another man when moments ago she’d been moaning
his
name? “You discussed hard limits? A safe word?” When her gaze darted away for a split second, he had his answer and it infuriated him. “I didn’t think so.”

“We were getting there,” she grated.

“Bullshit. When I showed up, you were getting ready to go upstairs.”

Before the harsh words had even left his mouth, she’d sailed past him toward the kitchen, snatching her purse off the kitchen island. “You had no right to interfere, Oliver. I make decisions for myself.
Me
.” She turned back to face him. When he saw her chin tremble, he wanted to crumple. “I liked him, Oliver. Dammit.”

As she stormed out of the apartment, he made no move to stop her. Couldn’t. His feet felt glued to the ground, his entire body once again loaded down by the ten tons of cement on his shoulders.

It didn’t even occur to him that he’d just struck out for the first time in his life.

Chapter Six

Eliza plopped into her desk chair and pulled up her email. As soon as she saw the horrifying number of unread messages, she whimpered and let her forehead hit the desk. Sleep last night had been elusive, like the golden ring you try to grab from the carousel, shiny and unattainable for someone with short arms.
What?
She wasn’t even making sense today. And it was only ten o’clock in the morning. The scene with Oliver had replayed in her head so many times she could probably perform both of their parts in a stage play.

Was she angry? Hell yeah. He had just gotten finished lecturing her about the importance of speaking up, explaining what she wanted, sexually or otherwise. Laying down ground rules that were important to
her
. Then he’d gone and swiped the free will rug out from under her feet. She didn’t appreciate having decisions made on her behalf. It reminded her too much of what she’d witnessed growing up. Watching her mother repeatedly acquiesce to her father’s demands. Never speaking up for herself. She didn’t want to be that type of woman, ever. When she’d asked Oliver to help her learn about this world, she hadn’t expected him to be the one to damage that newfound confidence inside of her. She’d wanted…
hoped
he would expand it.

She did like Porter, as she’d told Oliver, but that hadn’t been why she was bordering on tears as she left Oliver’s apartment. Not even close. Her body had been coming down off whatever precipice Oliver had put her on. It had been like downhill skiing with no poles, right into a brick wall. Her body had been aching, blood rushing in her ears, a voice in her head shouting at her to stop being so outraged and let him drive her higher once again. How she’d resisted that urge, she still couldn’t understand. Even now, she could close her eyes and feel his hand between her legs, his tongue licking up the side of her neck. Oh yeah. He was every bit as amazing as she’d always imaged. Times infinity. A few more minutes with him and she would have blasted off like the space shuttle.

Honestly, she couldn’t have been any more obvious about her lack of experience if she’d tattooed:
You want to put it…where?
Across her forehead. He’d touched her between the legs, and she’d practically been speaking in tongues. That embarrassment, coupled with her hurt pride had caused tears to burn behind her eyes. At least she could console herself with the fact that they’d never fallen. She’d meant what she said about liking Porter, but she could admit to herself, and
only
to herself, she hadn’t thought of him from the time she’d entered the apartment to when Oliver brought him up. Telling her he’d told the man to fuck off. Unbelievable.

Now she’d have to start at square one. Something existed inside her, curiosity that needed to be explored. She wouldn’t let this, albeit disappointing, setback keep her from learning more about herself.

Starting tomorrow.

On her desk, the intercom buzzed. “Yes?”

“Delivery for you. Send them in?”

“’kay.”

She put her head back down, hoping the delivery guy would leave whatever box of fabric swatches or catalogues he’d brought by and scram. Communicating with the outside world didn’t appear to be in her wheelhouse today. She eyed the foot space under her desk. Could she curl up inside there and take a nap? Everyone might assume she was out for a meeting. As she pondered that idea, a young kid wearing a backwards baseball cap rounded the corner of her office. He had an object in his hands that was so heavy, he stumbled a little under the weight of it. It was covered in white butcher paper, though, so she couldn’t see beneath.

“Where you want it?” He said, in a winded Brooklyn accent.

“Depends what it is.” The kid made an impatient noise and set the delivery down on her desk. On top of everything. Then he held out his hand for a tip. Eliza sighed and reached into her pocket, drawing out a few singles. “You’re ballsy. I’ll give you that.”

He winked in reply and was gone from her office seconds later. Eliza eyed the package warily for a beat, then ripped a strip off the front. Was that…a giant cookie? She tore off the remaining paper to reveal a giant heart-shaped cookie with the words “I’m A Douchebag” written across the front in pink frosting. A reluctant smile tried to break out along her face, but she squashed it.

Her cell phone vibrated on her desk. She didn’t even need to glance at the screen to know who was calling. After the fourth ring, she picked it up. “Mr. Preston,” she said briskly. “What can I do for you? I’m busy.”

“Busy eating a delicious cookie, I hope?”

It did look delicious. And damn him, why did he have to sound so familiar and solid, that masculine voice traveling through the phone to harden her nipples. Before she’d kissed Oliver, let him touch her, there had been an attraction on her end. Now she didn’t stand a chance. Which is why she had to avoid him for a while. “They’ll love it in the mail room.”

“You’d give it away? I stayed up all night baking that cookie for you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I know.” He sighed. “Does it count that I had to call five bakeries before I found someone who would write the word
‘douchebag’
in frosting?”

“I would have called you a douchebag for free.”

He groaned. “Direct hit, bunny.” In the background, she could hear him pacing his office. She could picture him there, Manhattan skyline behind him, suave and drop-dead sexy in his perfectly-tailored work suit. What a douchebag. “Eliza, I’m sorry. I fucked up. Making a decision like that for you was inexcusable.” He paused, completely oblivious that his rare moment of sincerity had sent Eliza’s eyebrows shooting toward her hairline. “I’m not going to pretend I like Porter for you, but it’s not up to me to decide. I still want to help you.” His voice deepened. “
Please
let me help you, babe.”

“Um,” was all she could manage, her mouth gone dry. Her pulse had started tripping all over itself, her brightly lit office suddenly transformed into a possible pleasure den. Oh, the things she could do with that voice talking to her. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea anymore.”

You don’t know?
Before the cookie showed up, she’d been planning on avoiding him for the foreseeable future. One little apology and she’d lost her resolve. She opened her mouth to tell him
thanks but no thanks
, but he spoke before she could. “Look, if you agree to these lessons with me…at the end of them, I’ll call Porter myself and apologize. I’ll even arrange the date for you.”

Again, he’d shocked her. Never mind that he sounded like the words were being strangled from his throat. “I…that’s a nice offer, Oliver. I guess. But I’m still not sure.”

“Why don’t I tell you what I’d like to do with you this evening, then you decide?”

Bad idea. “Th-that sounds fair.”

He hummed in his throat, and Eliza’s breathing went shallow. “I want you to come to my gym after work. You won’t know me. And I won’t know you.” Eliza’s belly fluttered with anticipation she couldn’t deny. This didn’t even sound like the man she knew. It sounded like someone else entirely. Someone intense and commanding. “I’m not your friend’s brother. You’re not my sister’s friend. You’re just the woman I’m going to take one look at and want to fuck in several positions.” The sound of pacing in the background stopped. “Have I made it clear what I want from you, Eliza?”

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, blurring the room around her into a kaleidoscope. The flesh between her legs dampened, clenching to such an extreme degree, she had to press her hand there to ease the throb. This. This was what she’d been waiting for. What she’d been needing. She could no more say no than she could avoid eating some of that taunting cookie.

“Yes, Oliver.”

“Good girl.” Did she hear a note of relief? “No panties under your gym clothes, Eliza. If you wear them, I’ll strip you down in front of the entire gym and tear them off.”

Oh. Mama
. She made a sound of agreement then hung up before she humiliated herself by begging to meet him on their lunch break instead of after work. With a shrug, she leaned down and took a hands-free bite out of the cookie. Apparently she’d be working it off later.