Chapter 121: Chapter 121
Olivia’s POV
Before I could respond, I felt him lean closer, his presence crowding me until I had no choice but to lay back on the bed. His body hovered over mine in the darkness, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.
"I’m dying to kiss you again," he murmured, his voice rough with want. "I can’t stop thinking about your lips, how soft they were, how sweet you tasted."
My breath hitched as his hand traced down my side, making me shiver.
"I need to taste you again, Livy," he whispered, leaning closer still. "Need to feel your mouth on mine, need to..."
Again? What the hell! Did I hear him correctly, or is my mind playing tricks on me?
This cannot be.
I pressed my hand flat against his chest, stopping him, as he traced his fingers up my legs. "Maxwell?"
He froze completely. "What?"
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could feel it. "Maxwell?"
"Why do you keep calling me that?" His voice had gone flat.
"Because... because you said you couldn’t wait to kiss me again," I explained, my heart racing like crazy. "Which means you’re Maxwell. We just kissed on the plane."
He went completely still above me. Then: "You kissed Maxwell?"
Wait. What?
"Why are you asking me that question when you ARE Maxwell?" I asked, confused now.
"I only said that," he replied slowly, "because the last time I kissed you was at the karaoke bar. And I’ve been dying to kiss you again ever since."
"Oh." The single word came out small and embarrassed.
He leaned back, putting some distance between us, and I could feel the shift in the atmosphere. "So," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge, "you kissed Maxwell?"
"No!" I said quickly. "I mean, I was trying to give him CPR. He wasn’t breathing properly, and I had to help him, but then he - he kissed me."
"And what did you do when he kissed you?"
I wasn’t expecting that question at all. Infact I was shocked to hear it. I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read his expression, but I could feel the tension radiating from him.
When I didn’t answer immediately, he asked another question, quieter but somehow more intense: "Are you falling for Maxwell, Livy?"
"What?" I gasped, genuinely shocked. "No, I..."
"I’ve asked you this question before, and I’m asking you again. ARE YOU FALLING FOR HIM?" he repeated, his voice coming out raw.
I shook my head in the darkness, even though I wasn’t sure he could see it. "I don’t know," I admitted honestly. "I don’t know what I’m feeling."
"Why?" His voice was a low whisper now. "Why are you falling for another man when I’m right here?"
"Because it’s impossible to completely fall for someone I don’t know!" I almost screamed out. "Someone I haven’t even seen! You’re a shadow, a voice in the dark. But Maxwell - I see him every day. I work with him, spend hours with him, watch him be brilliant and infuriating and complicated and real."
The silence that followed was so loud I could literally hear it.
Then he moved again, leaning back over me, his body pressing me into the mattress. "I’ll just have to prove to you how much I want you then," he said, his voice dark with promise. "And by the time I’m done, you’ll have eyes for no one but me."
He caressed my neck with his lips, trailing hot kisses down to my collarbone. His hands moved to my waist, sliding under the hem of my tank top, his fingers tracing patterns on my hot skin that made me gasp.
"I’ll make you forget him," he murmured against my throat. "Make you forget every other man who’s ever looked at you."
His mouth was doing things to my neck that made my brain go fuzzy, and when his hand moved higher, brushing just under my breast, and tracing my nipples, I nearly forgot how to breathe.
But then reality crashed back in.
"Wait," I said breathlessly, pushing at his chest again. "We can’t do this. Not here. Not under Maxwell’s roof. He could be watching."
"I already disconnected all the cameras before coming in," he said, not stopping his kisses, his mouth moving to my jaw now.
"But Maxwell might still know," I protested weakly, even as my body betrayed me by arching into his touch. "He always knows things. It’s like he has a sixth sense or something."
"It doesn’t matter," he said, his hand cupping my breast now, and massaging. "He’ll never know. Besides, it’s dark. Even if the cameras were on, he wouldn’t see anything."
He pinched my nipple slightly and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. But even through the haze of desire, doubt was creeping in.
"The others might hear," I said, my voice breathy. "Damien and Gabriel and Alex are all sleeping in this house somewhere. I don’t feel comfortable doing this here."
He groaned in frustration, pulling back slightly. "Shit. After everything I did to finally be here with you, you’re going to turn me down?"
After everything he did? What was he talking about?
Oh... the cameras.
"I’m sorry," I said, and I genuinely was. "I’m sorry about the stress of disconnecting the cameras and all. But Maxwell is crazy. He’ll definitely know somehow. He always does."
But there was more to my hesitation than just fear of Maxwell finding out. Deep down, I was worried that my stranger was one of the four men downstairs. What if it was Damien? I definitely didn’t want to sleep with Damien. The thought made my skin crawl.
It wouldn’t be that bad if it was any of the other three men - I’ve always daydreamed about Alex countless times in the past, once envisioned myself riding Gabriel, even wondered what it’d be like to fuck Maxwell, even though that was impossible, because my stranger had a heart while Maxwell didn’t.
But not Damien. Certainly not him.
Still, the uncertainty gnawed at me. I needed to investigate Damien more carefully, figure out if he could be the one hiding behind the dark hoodie, and why he kept staring at me tonight.
"Shit," the stranger cursed again, his voice tight with frustration and sexual frustration. "You’re really not going to let this happen?"
"I’m sorry," I repeated softly.
He let out a long, controlled breath. Then: "Can I at least hold you until my hard-on goes down? Because you’ve got me so worked up all night I can barely think straight."
Despite everything, I smiled in the darkness. "Yes. You can hold me."
He shifted, pulling my back against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I could feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against my ass, but he made no move to do anything about it. He just held me, one hand stroking my hair, the other underneath my top rubbing tingling circles round my nipples.
"You’re going to be the death of me, Livy," he murmured into my hair.
"I’m sorry," I said for the third time.
"Stop apologizing," he said, but there was warmth in his voice now, the frustration fading. "I hate when you do that."
I wiggled deeper into him, "You know I want you too, right?" I asked quietly.
"I know," he said. "I know."
We lay there in the darkness, tangled together, his heartbeat gradually slowing behind me. His hand continued its tingling sensation on my breast - emitting an occasional moan from within me - and despite the sexual tension sizzling between us, I felt safe and protected.
"Tell me something," I whispered, my eyes already growing heavy with exhaustion. "Something real about yourself."
He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. Then: "I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. The way I feel about you - it’s both terrifying and thrilling."
"That’s not really telling me something about yourself," I pointed out sleepily.
"It’s the most honest thing I can give you right now," he replied.
I wanted to argue, to push for more, but exhaustion was pulling me under. Between the stress of the evening and the emotional rollercoaster of the day, I was completely drained.
"Stay until I fall asleep?" I mumbled.
"I’ll stay as long as I can," he promised.
And with his arms around me, his warmth surrounding me, I drifted off into a beautiful sleep.
********
The next morning, I woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains and an empty bed.
He was gone.
I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and trying to process everything that had happened. The stranger’s visit, his jealousy over Maxwell, the almost-sex that hadn’t quite happened. And most importantly, the growing certainty that he was one of the four men in this house.
But which one?
I pushed the thought aside and dragged myself out of bed. I had work to do, and I couldn’t afford to show up looking like I’d spent the night being cuddled by my mysterious stranger.
After a quick shower, I reapplied my disguise and positioned my wig perfectly. Then I wore my chest binding, before finally putting on my corporate outfit - white shirt, navy slacks, tie, jacket - all large and baggy to hide my curves.
I checked myself out one more time before heading downstairs, where Maxwell would probably be waiting.
But when I reached the kitchen, I stopped short.
All four of them were sitting around the table - Maxwell, Damien, Gabriel, and Alex - still in their sleepwear, casually sipping coffee like they didn’t have a care in the world. They looked comfortable and relaxed, with bedhead and lazy smiles, like they’d just rolled out of bed moments ago.
The moment they saw me standing in the doorway in my full corporate attire, they burst into laughter.
"Oliver!" Alex said between chuckles. "What are you doing dressed like that?"
I looked down at myself, confused. "It’s Friday. I’m going to work."
Maxwell set down his coffee mug, a smile playing at his lips. "Oliver, it’s alright. I’ll work from home today, and you can assist me from here. No need to go into the office."
What? Not again. Just when I thought I was finally leaving this house. Now I’m trapped here, knowing one of these men have been fucking me in the dark.