Chapter 132

Chapter 132: Chapter 132

Olivia’s POV

"FUCK!"

And then his mouth crashed down on mine.

The kiss was an assault - fierce, demanding, absolutely devastating. His lips moved against mine with a desperation that stole the breath from my lungs and the thoughts from my mind.

I was caught completely off guard, my body going rigid with shock for a second. But then something inside me just... broke. Or maybe it ignited. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

My hands flew up to his hair, fingers burying inside those dark silky strands and pulling him closer, closer, closer. I moaned softly and felt him shudder against me.

Maxwell didn’t stop. Didn’t pull back to check if I was okay or ask permission. He just kept kissing me like he was a drowning man and I was air, like he’d been starving for this and finally found sustenance.

His tongue swept along my bottom lip and I opened for him without thinking. The moment he dipped inside, tasting me, exploring me, my entire world exploded.

God, he tasted so incredible. Like hot coffee and chocolate wrapped in one. My head was spinning as my body melted into his.

My hand slid down from his hair to his chest, and I could feel his heart hammering beneath my palm - wild and erratic, matching my own frantic pulse. I trailed my fingers everywhere I could reach - his chest, across his broad shoulders, down his back, feeling the muscles flex and tense under my touch.

He groaned. Actually groaned - a low, animalistic sound that came from deep within his chest and vibrated through my entire body. The sound sent tingles racing down my spine, pooling heat low in my belly and between my legs.

His hands were everywhere. They slid up my naked thighs, fingers digging into my flesh possessively, claiming me. Then higher, skimming over my hips, caressing my stomach, before moving up to cup the swell of my almost exposed breasts.

"God," he breathed against my mouth, his thumb flicking my hardened nipples, and massaging my breast.

I arched into his touch, another moan escaping me. My body was on fire - every nerve ending alight, every cell screaming for more. His other hand moved to my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, angling my head so he could kiss me deeper, harder.

Jeez... this was even much better than the plane.

The car was filled with the sounds of our ragged breathing, the gasps and moans I couldn’t hold in, the curses that fell from his lips between kisses.

His mouth left mine - and I actually whimpered at the loss - but then he was trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down my neck, finding that spot just below my ear that made my toes curl.

"Maxwell," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Say it again," he growled against my skin, his teeth grazing my pulse point.

"Maxwell..."

The car hit a rough bump.

We both froze instantly, the spell finally breaking.

We stared at each other for a moment, before Maxwell slowly pulled back, his eyes dark and unfocused, his lips swollen and red from our kiss. His hair was completely messed up from my hands, his shirt wrinkled where I’d been gripping it.

I could only imagine what I looked like - probably like a masquerade, my lipstick smeared, my hair in disarray, my dress riding up way too high on my thighs.

I sat back against my side of the seat, my hands shaking as I tried to compose myself. Tried to smooth down my dress, tried to regulate my breathing, tried to remember my own name.

What the hell just happened?

The car was silent except for our ragged breathing. The air between us was charged with electricity, thick with tension and the lingering smell of desire.

I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t wrap my mind around what we’d just done.

Maxwell Wellington - the man who’d always claimed to hate me, who’d insulted me on our first meeting, who’d spent an entire evening trying to sabotage my date with his best friend, who’d told Oliver how unstable and dramatic I was - had just kissed me. Had groped me. Had made sounds that would give me wet dreams for weeks to come.

And I’d kissed him back. God help me, I’d kissed him back with everything I had.

After what felt like forever, Maxwell finally broke the silence. "Well," he said, his voice rough and slightly breathless, "that actually worked."

I blinked, trying to make sense of his words. "What?"

"I finally succeeded in calming you down."

It took a moment for his meaning to register. When it did, I felt heat flood my face - this time from embarrassment and anger rather than desire.

"Is that..." I had to pause to clear my throat. "Is that how you kiss your clients to calm them down?"

Maxwell’s lips twitched, "Only when necessary."

"Only when..." I stared at him in disbelief. "You’re insane. Actually insane."

I turned to face him fully, my hands clenched into fists in my lap. "Never use that method to calm me down again. I won’t accept it. Do you understand me?"

He turned his face away slightly, his shoulders shaking, and I realized with growing horror that he was trying not to laugh.

The nerve of this man! Was he actually laughing at me right now? After everything?

That was it. I was done.

I reached for the door handle, fully intending to throw myself out of the moving vehicle.

But Maxwell was faster. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist while his other hand reached past me to slam the door shut.

Before I could protest, he was leaning over me, his body caging mine against the door, his face mere inches from mine.

"Are you trying kill yourself, or you’re simply trying to provoke me into kissing you again?" His voice was low and dangerous.

My breath caught. Being this close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body as his eyes bored into mine - it was doing things to me. Things I absolutely did not want to acknowledge.

"Get off me," I said, struggling against his hold even though part of me didn’t want him to move at all. "Who do you think you are? Your kiss doesn’t mean anything! You’re just a rude, stupid bastard who doesn’t have a heart!"

"Calm down, Olivia," he said softly, and there was something in his tone that made me pause. "Or I’ll have to help you calm down again. Maybe then we’ll know if my kiss meant something or not."

I froze.

The way he was looking at me made it clear he wasn’t joking. He actually wanted me to give him a reason to kiss me again. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in the tension of his body hovering over mine.

And God help me, my body wanted him to.

My lips were already parting, my breathing getting faster, heat pooling between my thighs at just the thought

No. Absolutely not. You will not let him have that power over you.

I pressed my lips together firmly and shoved at his chest with both hands, putting as much force behind it as I could.

He moved back, settling into his seat with what looked like satisfaction on his face.

Bastard.

I was furious again - but this time, most of my fury was directed at myself.

How could I let him kiss me again? That was the second time in two days. Two days! And how could I just melt in his arms like that? Like I was made of butter and he was the sun? After all his nonsense attitude, after the way he’d insulted me and Oliver, after every fucking thing?

Now he probably thought he had some kind of power over me. That all he had to do was put his mouth on mine and I’d forget how awful he was.

God, Olivia, I’m so ashamed of you. You have no single self-control. You’ve completely lost it.

I turned toward him - careful not to actually look at him because I couldn’t trust myself if I saw his face right now - and forced my voice to sound cold and distant.

"Let’s get on with the reason we’re here. I don’t want to spend another second with you, and I want to go home."

The words came out steady and controlled, betraying none of the chaos happening inside me. None of the way my body was still humming with desire, still aching for his touch.

Maxwell was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Driver, take us back to the restaurant."

The car immediately changed direction.

We sat in silence as we drove, but it wasn’t a comfortable silence. It was heavy, charged, filled with everything we weren’t saying.

I could feel Maxwell’s eyes on me. Could sense him looking at my profile, probably noticing the way my hands were clenched in my lap, the way my jaw was tight, the way I was deliberately staring out the window to avoid his gaze.

My body was betraying me in a thousand small ways. My nipples were very hard, visible even through my dress, and I was sure he could see it too. My thighs were pressed tightly together, trying to ease the ache between them. My lips felt swollen and sensitive, and I had to resist the urge to touch them, to trace where his mouth had been.

Stop it, I commanded myself. Stop thinking about it. Stop replaying it. Stop wanting it to happen again.

But I couldn’t stop. The memory of his taste, his touch, the sounds he’d made - it was all playing on repeat in my mind like it was taunting me.

I snuck a glance at him from the corner of my eye and immediately regretted it.

He was watching me with an intensity that made me drip wet again.

"Why do you keep staring at me like that!" I literally yelled, my voice filled with frustration.