| |
Olivia
––––––––
I wake up alone to an empty house at a little after nine. There’s a note from Cheryl, giving the address for her sister’s house and her sister’s phone number. Nothing from Rourke, not that I expected anything. I know I’ll be stressed until I do or don’t get a call from him this afternoon. In the mirror my neck is as bad as I feared it would be. My stomach flips a half dozen times remembering last night, what it meant.
After breakfast, listlessly, I stick our sheets in the washer then pull out the spare sheets because I’m pretty sure I won’t be in the mood to put these back on once they go through the machine. There are three sheet sets that fit the huge bed, which is a California king. All of them are white. In a fit of boredom I decide to go buy new sheets and another comforter that isn’t quite as heavy. Even though Cheryl keeps the house at a cool seventy all year long, Rourke gives off a ton of heat at night when he holds me.
I buy two new sheet sets, one in a bright yellow and the other in soft blue. Both will match the two different duvet covers I bought to go over the comforter. One duvet cover is a checked pattern of blue and yellow, and the other is a diamond pattern of gray and yellow. I also buy a few throw pillows, sometimes I like to come into the room to read during the day, and I like lots of pillows.
When my phone goes off with Rourke’s ringtone, I cry with relief. I have to take a deep breath before I answer. “Hey.”
“Hey, how are you today? Are you feeling okay?” His concern is clear.
“I’m good. I had to borrow one of your mom’s scarves when I went shopping today because I’m not good enough with makeup to hide my neck.”
“Sorry.” Funny, he doesn’t sound sorry. “Where did you go shopping?”
“To the mall. I bought new sheets and a comforter and some throw pillows.” Only now do I wonder if I overstepped, again. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, the room needs your touch. I bought everything in there ages ago.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and relief floods me.
“Great, I hope you like what I picked out. Before I forget, I’m having a night out with my brother tomorrow.” Now would be the time to mention my birthday, but instead I cringe.
“Okay, it’s been a while since you spent time with your brother. I’ll work late that night. Which will be a good thing—I won’t be thinking of work the next day, so we can just enjoy having the day off.” I hear a voice in the background. “All right, sweetheart, I have to go. I’ll be home around five thirty tonight.”
“Okay. Bye.” With a happy little sigh, I go back to making up the bed with the newly purchased sheets that smell yummy from a little extra softener in the wash I just ran them through.
Once the bed is made I climb on top. As I look around the room, it no longer feels empty, cold; I hope Rourke feels the same way and likes it. I think of how happy he sounded at me buying new sheets and a comforter. Then compare it to how cold and aloof he was yesterday until last night. Oh crap...I remember the moment when he turned cold.
It was when I talked about how I felt I hadn’t helped his mom enough, then he assured me she was happy with me but then I talked about “after I was gone.” Rourke was upset about me talking about leaving. I’m torn because there is no way I can sign on for another six months not only does it feel wrong, but Cheryl doesn’t need me. If my wildest dreams came true and Rourke wanted to continue, then of course I would come to visit Cheryl a couple of times a week, but I would want to continue to work, to maintain some independence.
Ever since the night Rourke called me a coward for sticking to working as a live-in companion, I’ve been thinking about how right he was. Out of curiosity I went online, and the list of high-paying jobs was nearly endless. It wasn’t just hospitals or retirement homes, it was doctor’s offices and schools and urgent care facilities. Several of the jobs even appealed to me. I know I’ll be ready for a change, I’m just not sure what. The last time I thought about it I thought I had four months to figure it out.
I’m dizzy from all the what-ifs. Closing my eyes, I slip into a restless nap. The ping of my cell phone wakes me almost an hour later. It’s a text from my sister.
Happy Birthday! I know it’s early but I’ll be crazy busy on Sunday with the girls and don’t want to forget. I sent you a gift card to the online store you love so much, check your email. Love you xoxo
The text brings out a little sad smile. It’s been almost a month since I last heard from my sister, and it was a text not much longer than this. She was hiding from me, from a late-night conversation we had almost two months ago. Stella was miserable and considering leaving Larry. He wouldn’t stop hounding her about having another baby even though she was tired of being pregnant for four years running. She was afraid to tell him that before she left the hospital she got a birth control implant in her arm.
I guess I was too excited, glad she saw his controlling ways and wanted out. Toward the end of the call she backed down, going on about the girls needing their father and how hard it would be to do it on her own. Stella ended the call saying never mind, forget it, she’d had too much wine since Larry was out. She’d originally called because she suspected he was out cheating on her and wondering, if she was relieved rather than mad, did that mean it was time to end her marriage?
I love my sister, but I can’t save her from herself. I just keep Gabe’s words in mind: we can’t live her life for her, we can only be here to support her when it goes wrong. With that in mind I respond to her text.
Thank you so much! Love you too! xoxo
I’m proud of myself for keeping it short, not asking if we could go out to lunch or dinner or even to see her for five minutes. None of the things I want to text, just what she wants to see.
***
Rourke
––––––––
When I get home Olivia shows off the new items she bought. I make it clear I love the changes; even more, I love the way she made changes to make herself more comfortable, as if this were her space, not just mine. Coupled with her admitting last night that she was mine, I’m relieved. “I want to break in the new sheets,” I whisper in her ear, yet as she smiles there’s worry in her eyes she can’t hide. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Her hand runs over my cheek.
“You’re a bad liar. Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m worried about my sister. I’m fine. Really.”
Fuck, tension eases out of me in a rush as I see the truth in her eyes. I run a hand through her hair, then pull her head back to force her eyes to mine. “Your little sister that you helped raise. The one who was married at nineteen and popped out four kids in four years. Why are you worried about her?” Her brown eyes go wide. “After how badly the first background check went, I ordered a more thorough one. It didn’t uncover anything else I really felt I needed to know. Other than I would love to beat the shit out of your ex, but I’m thinking your brother got there first so I’ll have to make do. Talk to me.”
“I feel as if I failed her. She’s in a marriage with a controlling asshole and she’s miserable but because she has four kids, no degree and no work experience, she feels stuck. I just feel so helpless—this is all my fault and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”
“Hey, this is not all your fault. Don’t think like that.”
“But it is. Connor was controlling from the beginning, but at first I didn’t see it as controlling. I thought he was being strong and protective but he wasn’t. Then when I recognized it for what it was, I kept smiling through it all to get through the day until my sister was out of the house. I showed her it was okay to put up with having a controlling asshole for a husband.”
“Sweetheart, I have no doubt your ex was controlling and manipulative, but I also have no doubt there were times he couldn’t have pushed you to do something you didn’t want to do with a wrecking ball. You are a strong, wickedly intelligent woman. I know you got it from your mother. Your sister was young, but she wasn’t young enough to miss seeing it all and how it was done.
“From the report I got back, your sister played it the way I originally thought you did. Getting married young to have someone else take care of her. Despite what you think, you wanted support, not someone to take care of you, or you wouldn’t have enrolled in school immediately and worked while you also took care of your sister. Your sister stopped going to classes the minute she found out she was pregnant. It’s not your fault your sister wanted someone to take care of her and picked the wrong guy. If she’s smart enough to know four years in she needs to get the fuck out, there were hints from the very beginning.”
Olivia closes her eyes. “She was excited about going away to college, but she wasn’t excited about actually going to school. When she was younger she used to talk about having a half dozen kids and being a mom, how she couldn’t imagine a better life. I got too excited and helpful about her leaving him when she mentioned it, and now she’s avoiding me. It worries me, her not having anyone to talk to about what she’s going through.”
“She has to come to a resolution all on her own. If she isn’t ready, there’s nothing you could say to make her change her mind. Give her some time, let her know you’re here for her if she needs anything.”
Nuzzling into my neck, she sighs. “You sound just like Gabe.”
“As much as I want to break these sheets in, what do you say to you packing a bag and spending the time Mom is gone at my place?”
“Mm...sounds like heaven, except your place isn’t the easiest to find and Gabe will be picking me up. How about tonight we break in the sheets, then tomorrow after Gabe drops me off, I pack a bag and head over.”
“It isn’t easy to find for a reason. You’re right, I don’t want him getting lost. All right, tonight I can have my way with you all over the house, you can scream as loud as you want when you come and there’s no worry of bothering Mom.”
“Considering the way you make me scream, the neighbors might be bothered.”
Pulling her mouth up to me, I press a kiss to her soft lips. “Let’s find out.”
***
Rourke
––––––––
A few hours later as Olivia clings to me, her body soft against mine, I hear her stomach growl. We both laugh. Fuck. I love hearing her laugh. Best. Sound. Ever.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m falling down on the job of taking care of you. We definitely aren’t going out to eat. Want to order from the Vietnamese place? They can get something here within fifteen minutes.”
“Please. Order me the chicken with lemongrass and vermicelli noodles, also some extra egg rolls so I can have them later to snack on, those things are so good. I’m going to take a shower real quick.”
“Yes, ma’am, but when you’re out of the shower, I want you naked, so put on a robe so no one else sees you that way. Then once we get the delivery I want your beautiful body on display for me.”
With a blush down to her beautiful breasts, she sighs as she nods. It’s a customary request I have for her when we’re at my place. I’m surprised by her blush, as the last two times she spent the night she didn’t even bother getting dressed again. I showed her how pleased I was by eating her pretty pink pussy until she coated my face with her come twice.
I place the order, and when they quote me a half hour, I offer a fifty for them to get it here in fifteen minutes. They promise it will be here in fifteen minutes. I’m still lying in bed when she gets out of her shower. “Be a good girl and clean my cock, since you were a bad girl and cleaned your pussy of my come.”
Her bottom lip slides inside her mouth as I watch her nipples pucker. I’ll never stop loving how responsive she is. As she gets on the bed, I smell her wet pussy and decide to reward her with my fingers in her pussy as she cleans me. Her soft velvet tongue slides up, then down over and over until I’m clean, then she begins licking my balls. “Such a good girl.” I praise her as I tease her clit. Her pussy is leaking down her inner thighs.
Olivia takes her time laving my balls before taking one, then another into her hot, greedy little mouth and sucking lightly. I grunt. Damn it, I’m going to come. She already knows my body enough to realize it and moves to take the head of my cock into her mouth, sucking harder and harder as both hands stroke me. I come, and my good girl swallows everything as she moans. Since she’s so very good, I push her over the edge to her climax. With a little cry, she falls on my chest. I hold her close, loving the way her body trembles against mine.
The doorbell goes. Damn. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I tell her to wait in the room, then throw on a robe and grab my wallet and go get the delivery. I hand the guy a hundred-dollar bill and tell him to keep the change.
When she comes out of our bedroom she’s naked; for a moment all I can do is stop and stare. Her body is glowing from our time in the sun naked. She’s glowing as if a light were turned on inside her at knowing what she does to me. Slowly she walks toward me, then goes on tiptoe to press a kiss to my lips. “Let’s eat in front of the television. We can get you caught up on Supernatural.”
“Why am I being tortured when I’ve been so good to you today?”
She laughs, taking the bag of food from me, setting it on the ottoman we use as coffee table. Shaking her head, she lays a silky throw for us to sit on. “Come on, I promise you season eight is awesome and nine is even better. Please, pretty please with me sucking your cock on top.”
I give in because telling her no was never an option. We get settled onto the couch. She sucking on her vermicelli noodles as we discuss the progress on my two hotels.
“The hotel in Florence is taking reservations starting next week.”
“And the place in Tours?”
Shrugging, I give in and voice my hesitation, which is rare—both for me to be hesitant and to share it with anyone. “I don’t know why I’m reluctant. Something about Mom saying she thought it would make a better family home. I’ve been thinking of using it as a way to get her to go over on vacation to check it out before opening it to the general public. It’s a very relaxing place.
“If I want to keep a second place, it makes more sense than the one in Monaco. The only thing Monaco offers Austin doesn’t is gambling, which I’m fine with. I can hardly believe I was thinking it would be nice to be somewhere where there are all four seasons without dealing with a foot of snow. While Tours gets snow, it’s rare for it to be more than a few inches.”
“So would you move there, like, full time?” Her fork picks at her food. I know immediately what she’s thinking about.
“I’m not sure. Have you ever wanted to live overseas?” The fuck? Only I can’t take the question back, I don’t want to.
Her eyes widen. “I know I want to travel overseas. When we were younger we were stationed in Germany, but we moved to Austin by the time I was six. I’d like to see more of the world but as far as moving permanently, I don’t know. I love my brother and sister and would hate the idea of going months and months without seeing them. If it were for the right reason though, I think I’d be open to it.”
The meaning behind what she’s saying is clear in her eyes. “I have a private jet. It’s nice being able to come and go in Austin and overseas when I want.”
“A private jet?”
Smiling at her shock, I nod. “With all the back and forth, I hated being on someone else’s schedule. There were also usually no less than three different layovers before getting to Austin, and sometimes just as often back.”
“So you really are a billionaire?” The words are said slowly.
Relief fills me; she had no real idea. While I was pretty sure she didn’t give a fuck about my money, to confirm it is nice. “Yep, as of three years ago. It’s why I decided to start traveling and see the world. I’d achieved a goal I never thought I would hit. I wanted to enjoy it while I still have the years to do it.”
“Wait, you never wanted to be a billionaire?”
“It wasn’t the goal. The goal was to have fuck-you money, enough money to say fuck you to the family my mother abandoned me for, to say fuck you to the family who abandoned Cheryl who became my mother, to say fuck you to my ex-fiancée who wanted to go on a break when I left Stanford to go into the Army, then broke it off entirely while I was in the hospital.”
I shrug. “I just wanted enough to make them all regret what they had done. But once I started it was actually hard to stop working. I was so focused, I didn’t see anything else. Even with the festival, it’s work, I don’t get as much pleasure in what it has become as I used to.
“Then when I started traveling I still ended up working, but it was actually fun, there were no timetables. I enjoyed taking my time. I had no intention of keeping the hotels I bought, and there was a freedom to that I didn’t know I was looking for.”
Her hand runs over my thigh. “You showed everyone. Gorgeous, at the top, you definitely can say fuck you. Are you missing the flipping thing?”
“Maybe a little, it was fun. Today, I’m going back and forth over a contract for a property the guy thinks he’s going to talk me down on. It’s not going to happen. There is no real challenge anymore. When doing a hotel, I make something old and ugly pretty and shiny and leave it for someone else to take care of.”
“Sounds like you prefer leaving the responsibility to others.” A little frown appears between her eyes.
“With a hotel the responsibility is pretty large. It’s also harder these days to make a large profit. I already have three hotels I’m responsible for, then there’s the international travel. Things like currency exchanges and laws about foreigners are different from country to country.”
She nods. “It sounds like a lot to deal with.”
“Very much so.” A scream comes from the television. “I really do like Crowley.”
“Me too!” Her eyes light up. “Dean is my favorite most of all. For a while Castiel was my second favorite, but by the time he—well, I don’t want to give spoilers, but I loved him more than Castiel.”
“Do they kill off Crowley?”
“I don’t want to say.” Olivia purses her lips
“Whatever, they’ll bring him back anyway like they did with Bobby.”
“Just watch.” She smacks my lips with hers. I don’t argue, enjoying the feel of her pressed up against me. Loving the way something as simple as takeout and television is the best damn thing because of Olivia.