Return to You (13 page)

"Wait." She pulled back—not completely but
too much as far as he was concerned.

Her lips glistened, her chest heaved, and
her hand rested on his abs, wreaking havoc with his control.
Logically, he knew it was miles away from the danger zone, but the
one-eyed monster down there refused to believe it. "What is
it?"

"Shouldn't we talk?"

"We've been talking." He moved his left hand
till his fingers traced the curve of her breast just above her
bra's wire.

Her eyes became more unfocused. She licked
her lips and asked in a sexy rasp, "I mean, shouldn't we straighten
things out first?"

"First?" He nuzzled her jaw, down her
neck.

Her head fell back and she moaned—long and
low. "Michael, I have something to tell you."

"What?" Without removing his lips, he eased
her back onto the blanket.

Suddenly he was back in time. It was her
sixteenth birthday and they were having a picnic. Just like it was
yesterday, he remembered the look on her face when he gave her the
locket and told her how much he loved her.

He raised his head and looked down at her.
She wasn't anything like the girl he left eleven years ago. A woman
of action. Sultry... He shook his head.

She licked her lips. "What is it?"

He traced a finger down her cheek to her
mouth. "Tell me quick, because I've wanted you too long to wait
much longer."

Olivia studied him for what seemed like eons
before nodding. "Then don't wait."

"But—"

"Don't wait," she whispered against his
lips.

He kissed her. Every cell
in his body screamed
Yes!
It felt so right that it would have been scary if
he'd let himself think about it, but the second that thought arose
he shut it down and occupied himself with the feel of her under
him.

He couldn't tell if he was devouring her or
if it was the other way around. Not that he cared. Hell—he'd lie
down and let her have her way with him if she wanted.

He slipped under the layers she wore, under
her bra, straight for the silky softness of her breast.

Arching into his hand, she wrapped a leg
around his to hold him against her. She stole under his shirt and
kneaded her way up his back.

He lifted his head and looked at his hand
under her shirt, rubbing her nipple. He could feel it peak under
his attention, but his eyes were on hers. She watched what he did,
her mouth slightly open.

She gasped, her gaze never wavering. He bent
and took it in his mouth, biting it through her clothing.

Grasping his hair, she pulled. "My turn."
She deftly flipped them around so she was on top.

He hadn't expected this. She hadn't been
passive eleven years ago—she'd always been enthusiastic—but she'd
let him lead.

She pushed up his shirt. "Off."

"You too," he said, tossing aside his top
layers.

Grabbing the bottom, she took her sweater,
tee shirt, and bra off in one motion.

He liked this new, aggressive Olivia.

She bent down, latched onto his nipple, and
sucked.

Correction—he
loved
this new
Olivia.

He gripped her hips and rocked into her. He
felt her gasp puff against his chest and wanted to feel her breath
against other parts of him. Wrapping a hand in her hair, he brought
her mouth to his.

She rubbed herself against him and, when he
groaned, she did it again. He could taste her gratified smile. He
reached between them and tugged on the zipper of her pants.

"I'll do it." She gazed at him as she
quickly took them off and tossed them with the rest of their
clothes. She knelt above him, her knees straddling his hips. "Your
turn."

Before he could twitch, she had his pants
undone and was pulling them, and his underwear, down. His cock
sprang up, eager and greedy.

She traced a finger up its length. She
touched the wetness at the top and smoothed it over the head.

His body arched up. "Olivia."

She grinned and slid down over him.

She felt hot and wet and so right it would
have scared him if he let himself think. She put her hands on his
chest and rode him like her life depended on it. He grabbed her
hips, careful not to get in her way.

She moaned and moved faster.

He thrust up into her. "Feel how hard I am
for you, Olivia? I don't think I've ever been this hard in my
life."

She closed her eyes and threw her head
back.

Magnificent.
He couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked like
a pagan goddess, flushed and wild. The lantern lit her from behind,
bathing her in a golden glow.

She tightened around him and he almost lost
it. He reached up and grazed one of her luscious nipples with his
palm. "Come, baby. Come for me."

Her fingernails scratched his chest and she cried
out. Feeling her peak pushed him over the edge.

"Yes." His grip tightened on her hips,
driving both of them higher.

She fell on top of him. Tangling his hand in
her hair, he tilted her head till he could get at her mouth.

She kissed him languidly—long and thorough.
She still pulsed around his cock, almost in time to each lick of
her tongue.

"Olivia," he groaned. He rolled them over
and ground his groin into hers.

More. He needed more.

He pushed higher into her, wanting to bury
himself as deep inside as he possibly could.

"Michael, I'm done. Finished. I couldn't
possibly—"

"Want me to describe how you feel?" He
grinned at how she flushed. "Hot. And wet. And so tight."

"Aw hell." She wrapped her legs around his
waist and prodded him with her heels.

He laughed.

And then she squeezed and he wasn't laughing
anymore.

He'd died and gone to heaven.

If he had the energy, he would have looked
around. Or pinched himself. Anything to determine whether he was
dead or still living.

He was in heaven. It was the only logical
explanation. There was no other way he'd be lying on top of Olivia,
buried inside her.

But he wasn't the kind of guy who'd get past
the pearly gates. He'd done a few things in the past that surely
bought him a one-way pass to hell.

Which left one possibility: he was still
alive and the last hour actually did happen.

He ran his hand down Olivia's side to the
curve of her hip. She was warm and firm with muscles.

His cock stirred.

He was definitely alive.

Olivia sighed and burrowed
closer to him. "I'm having a strong case of
deja vu
."

"What?"

"
Deja vu
. This is just like my
sixteenth birthday. Except we're indoors and there aren't any
thistles poking into my back." She caressed his back, alternately
running her fingers down his spine and kneading his muscles. "Do
you ever think about it?"

"About it?"

"About the past. About my sixteenth
birthday."

"Sometimes." He wasn't about to tell her he
carried the locket he gave her in his pocket all the time.

"When you think about it, what comes to
mind?"

He rolled onto his back and scooped her
against his chest. "That I miss having you in my life."

Shit. He didn't mean to say that. She'd take
it the wrong way. Having fabulous, wake-up-the-neighbors sex was
one thing. It was a far cry from getting back together.

He tasted the possibility of being with
Olivia every night. It was scrumptious.

But unfeasible. His life was in LA, as much
as hers was here in Northern California. Their paths didn't mesh.
It would never work and he didn't want to lead her on. The last
thing he wanted was to hurt her.

He shot her a look to see how she took his
comment.

Her brows were furrowed. He resisted the
urge to smooth them out. "That's what I think too," she said.
"Right before I wish I'd never met you."

"Ouch. That was below the belt."

Her lips twisted wryly. "What did you
expect? That I'd be blown away by the sex and fall under your
spell? Again?" she asked. "I don't think so."

"So why are you here?"

"Same reason you are. I was locked in."

"No." Michael pointedly
looked at where she lay against him. "Why are you
here
?"

"Temporary insanity. Don't take this to mean
more than it does." She rested her cheek on top of his chest,
rubbing it in like she was trying to nest.

He frowned. What the hell
did that mean? Okay—yes, he admitted he didn't want her to think
this meant a lifetime commitment, but tonight should mean
something
.

"Don't get me wrong. It was
really good." She lifted her head and looked at him with a wicked
gleam. "
Really
good. But it just wouldn't be feasible. You hate Northern
California, and I won't leave. Gran is getting older, and then
there's my business." She shrugged and fell silent.

"So we're on the same page." Then why did he
feel so disgruntled?

He needed to change the subject. "Do you
think they'll let us out tonight?"

"I don't know, but we should get dressed
just in case. I wouldn't want to give Gran the satisfaction of
finding us naked. Not like that'll make a big difference. She'll
probably know anyway."

He shuddered. "Granny Mae is scary."

"Tell me about it. And you don't have to
live with her."

Neither did she, but apparently she didn't
realize it. And she'd probably get out of joint if he mentioned it.
He didn't want to do that. The moment was sweet, and he didn't want
to disrupt it.

Olivia propped her chin on his chest and
gazed at him. "We're going to have to discuss this eventually, you
know."

He sighed.

"We have to be realistic about this. How
much longer are you going to be around?"

The way the movie was going, another three
years. "At least several more weeks."

"Good."

He didn't like the way that sounded.
"Good?"

"If you were leaving tomorrow, we wouldn't
get to have much more sex, would we?" She lifted her head and
looked at him. He couldn't read the expression on her face. "Unless
you don't want more sex."

Not want more sex with Olivia? "That's not
it at all."

She looked relieved. "Good. Great. I'd like
it too."

He should be jumping for joy at the prospect
of no strings attached sex, but he didn't think anyone would find
fault with him for being leery. For one thing, he didn't think
there was such a thing as no strings attached sex. Second, this was
Olivia. Why would she want it? Especially from him. And third, was
she actually talking about no strings attached sex?

Wait a minute—what about Lurch?

He drew her face closer to his. "You want
more sex with me?"

"We obviously have chemistry, and it only
seems to get worse the more we ignore it."

"So this is just a for-the-good-of-mankind
kind of thing?"

Her lips quirked into a smile. "You can look
at it that way."

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. "What
about Lurch?"

She looked confused for a moment before she
rolled her eyes. "His name is Rick, and what about him?"

"Well, if
my
girlfriend was having
sex with another man, I'd be a little pissed."

"Rick isn't like that."

Michael stared at her incredulously. "He's
gay then?"

Olivia burst out laughing. When she didn't
show any sign of letting up, he shook her. "What's so funny? He's
got to be gay if he doesn't care if another guy's making on his
woman."

That sent Olivia into another gale of
laughter. Michael could feel tears of mirth slide onto his
skin.

She finally quieted down to the occasional
chuckle and hiccup. She smoothed back his hair. He tried to resist
the placating gesture but he melted at her touch all the same.

"While you're in town, I'll only be with
you," she promised.

That should have made him feel better, but
it didn't. In fact, it only made him feel worse. He didn't want any
other man touching Olivia. Ever. Unrealistic but he couldn't help
feeling that way.

And he didn't want to analyze why that
was.

Her hand, soothing one moment, suddenly
gripped a lock of hair and pulled. Hard. "The same goes for you.
I'll run you down with my car if you so much as glance at another
woman."

Michael pulled her on top of him and kissed
her. His part of the deal wasn't going to be a problem. Olivia was
the only woman who'd turned him on in longer than he cared to
admit.

He didn't think she'd be able to keep her
part though. He trusted Olivia—it was Lurch he couldn't count
on.

Contrary to what Olivia believed, Lurch
wasn't going to understand. In his shoes, Michael knew he'd do
whatever it took to keep Olivia to himself. Lurch would be no
different.

Michael gripped her tighter against him. He
wasn't ready to let her go—not yet. Lurch may fight him for her,
but he had a surprise coming. Michael intended on being the victor.
At least for the short-term.

Chapter Nineteen

Parker slid into the booth. "What do you
have for me?"

Clancy cocked a brow and grinned. "Good
evening to you too. I've been doing great, thanks."

Controlling the unaccustomed urge to snarl
at the man, Parker motioned to the waitress. He needed scotch.
Bad.

"Someone sure got your panties in a twist
this evening," Clancy said, sipping his drink.

He had no interest in talking about anyone's
panties. He looked around the bar. Where was the damn waitress?
"What do you have for me?"