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Olivia
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Stretching, I hate discovering Rourke is already up and gone for the day. I love waking up in his arms. I love even more the slow, sleepy sex we have. Turning over, I see it’s almost noon. Damn. Although as I slide out of bed it sounds right, we were up late last night. Not only did we break in the sheets, we broke in the couch and the ottoman and the kitchen island. I’m pleasantly sore.
After a long shower I eat breakfast or lunch or whatever it is by now then go for a swim. By the time I’m out the soreness has faded a little. Which is good because I’ll be on the back of Gabe’s bike tonight. With that in mind I go into my closet to find something nice enough for dinner at a nice place, a show, and that I can wear on the back of a motorcycle.
Since it’s so rare for me to stay in a fourteen for long, I don’t have many options. I’m actually more a twelve in some things, and size sixteen pants are sliding right off. Crap, another day of shopping. I know most women enjoy shopping, but I’m not one of those women.
Rourke calls as I’m getting dressed to leave. “Hey.”
“Hi, sweetheart, I can’t talk long. I just wanted to tell you I hope you have a good time with your brother tonight. I’ll be home around eight or so.”
“Okay, I’ll be home later than that. The show doesn’t start until seven, so it will be around eight thirty I guess. Gabe will be ready to be done with me as soon as it’s over. Knowing him, he’s double booked with some chick right after he drops me off.”
He laughs. “All right, I’ll make sure I grab something on the way home. I have to go.”
“Okay, bye.”
***
Rourke
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I can’t believe she was really not going to say anything about her birthday tomorrow. I’m puzzled as to why not. If it hadn’t been for me reading her text messages last night, I would never have known. I’ve gone through her phone before, then offered her my own phone unlocked for her to go through as well.
The first time I asked for her phone she handed it over in confusion, then laughed as I went through it. I liked the way she wasn’t perturbed by it, once offering me her phone the minute she was done texting someone. The person was a former client asking for her availability.
When I offered her my phone she shrugged it off, telling me she not only trusted me, if she found out I was cheating she’d cut off my dick and stuff it down the throat of the woman I was cheating with to choke on, so she had no worries. Looking into her eyes, the calm way she said it, I didn’t doubt it for a second. Even as my balls hid from her, I was incredibly turned on. I pulled her in my arms as I told her I would expect nothing less from her.
As I look through her wish list on Amazon, nothing seems right. I remember what she said last night about how she would like to travel, to see the world. I flash back to the black and white skyline of London. Doreen calls me to find out where I am, and I tell her to tell Steven to fuck off—either he takes the deal I offered, or he can find another property. I hear a gasp. She had me on speaker phone. Whatever.
I pick up the phone again and call Mom. She had called me to let me know she got to San Antonio okay, and as we hung up she told me she would call me when she was ready. Which was Mom speak for me not to bother her. Sure enough, she answers sounding harassed.
“What is it, dear?”
“I’m wanting to take Olivia to visit the new place in Tours and spend a few days in London. Do you think your mom will last that long?”
“She’ll last longer than that.” Mom sighs. “Mother is not quite at death’s door as I was led to believe. It wasn’t a heart attack she had, it was a panic attack. However, the close call, as she demands it be called, made her see the light, and it’s time to mend fences and set things right. You two go, have fun. Tell Olivia I said Happy Birthday and her gift is in the closet wrapped in bright blue paper. You’ll see it the moment you open the door.”
“All right, Mom. If you need me, call.”
“I will. Be careful. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Hanging up, I shake my head. Of course my mom knew it was Olivia’s birthday and I didn’t. She could have given me the heads-up. At least I know Olivia has a passport, I saw it in the things she packed up. When I asked her about it, wondering if she had traveled, she sighed as she shook her head. One of her clients, an older woman, and she frequently crossed the border to get cheaper prescriptions and a minor surgery.
I pick up the phone to make reservations in London, then call my pilot so he can file a flight plan. One of the things on her wish list does catch my eye: diamond earrings as sparkly and bright as Olivia. As soon as I hang up, I grab my keys. I love shopping.
***
Olivia
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Shopping is torture, expensive torture. I’ve been wandering around for what feels like ages but my phone tells me has only been ten minutes. I wonder if time passes differently in the clothing section than it did in bedding. There was a woman roaming the floor who worked here, but the minute she saw me she pretended she didn’t and powerwalked away. I wasn’t offended, okay, I did maybe want to punch her in her stupid fake breasts, but whatever. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened to me.
I shouldn’t have come into this store. Except I was remembering what Cheryl said, how even though costume jewelry costs three hundred here and they have the big-name designers, they also have a lovely selection of plus sizes. I should have stuck to the devoted fat chick store. That’s it, fat chick store it is. Where the hell is the exit?
“Olivia, what are you doing here? You need help? I’ll help you. Don’t leave.” It’s Jacqueline from the awesome dresses, the stylist who knew exactly what she was doing.
I’m torn between asking for help and running. Only I hesitated too long and I have no choice. Within five minutes I’m locked in a dressing room with seven dresses and Jacqueline telling me she’ll be right back. What feels like two minutes later, I’m drowning in jeans, pants, skirts, and blouses.
Two hours and several thousand dollars later, I’m in a daze as I follow Jacqueline out of the store. I can’t believe I spent all that money but I’m also proud of the fact I have the money to spend. And if nothing else I’ll work my ass off to be able to stay this size so I can wear the clothes for next ten years. I’m reminded only I know where my car is. She’s carrying two bags, I’m carrying two bags, and the bitchy fake tits chick who ran is carrying three bags.
No, Jacqueline didn’t work there, she just acted like she did. She had come into the store looking for something for another client. I was lucky she was there; she told me no worries, she would send the bill for being my stylist to Rourke. I’m trying to tell her no, only she waves and is gone. And my alarm goes off, telling me I have forty-five minutes to get ready for Gabe to pick me up. Dang it, it will take twenty minutes to get home.
By the time I’m home and have carried in all the bags I have fifteen minutes to get ready. I hang up the two gorgeous dresses I couldn’t leave in the store. Then I go through the bags, trying to find the pretty black crepe pants, the kimono-style jacket and the pretty pink shimmering shell to go under. Normally I don’t wear anything without washing it first, but I decide to make an allowance in this case.
I’m flat ironing my hair but it’s still wavy when Gabe thunders up outside. Grr...okay, actually it doesn’t look bad. I throw in some mousse to hold the waves, I was going to have helmet hair anyway. Then I grab the leather cross body Jacqueline slipped in somehow and grab my wallet, cell phone and my brush and lipstick. I lock up as Gabe revs his engine. Jerk. He hands me a helmet, and I push it on. I lose track of the strap. Rolling his eyes, he does up the strap too tight.
Swallowing, I climb on then hold on tight enough I hope I give him bruises. He just laughs as he backs up, then roars off. Dang it, I’m more sore than I thought.
As Gabe parks at the restaurant, I sigh with relief. He has to help me off—my leg won’t go over the seat. His laughter makes me want to deck him. I’m not surprised when the host gives a double take at Gabe then checks, yes our table is ready then shows us to the table. Tonight Gabe is in khakis and a black polo, but he’s still wearing his boots, then there’s his big beard. Although I do see he’s shaped it and taken some length off.
“I like what you’ve done with your beard. You look a little less like a savage.”
“I’m trying to blend in, take ’em by surprise. So Liv, how goes it with the billionaire Vega? He ready to lock you down?”
“I don’t know what he’s ready to do. I don’t think he knows what he’s ready to do. There’s still no planning beyond tomorrow but he...” I blush as I remember the way he claimed me, the growled mine sounding like it came from his very soul. Gabe laughs. Shaking my head, I can’t look at my brother. “He made it clear he considered me his, and I, um, agreed.”
Gabe grins. “It’s okay, I’m sure I know how it went. No need to tell me more. But that’s all he’s been willing to do?”
“Yes, crap, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. His mom says he has this fear he’ll die young. His grandfather died at fifty-three and his father at fifty-two, so he doesn’t want to leave a wife behind grieving for him like his mom does for his dad.”
The waiter arrives introducing himself, reading through the specials. I have what I always have, the braciole, a steak wrapped around prosciutto and cheese. Gabe, as always, has the lasagna.
“Liv, that’s kind of a big piece of information to leave out. It also explains a lot.”
“Yeah, sorry, I guess before there was still a part of me thinking I was getting my hopes up. Only after last week, I think we might actually work if I can get past the whole fear thing. How can I compete with that? His mom says she’s tried several times to talk to him about it, but he point-blank refuses.”
“It’s easy, actually. Give him something to live for.”
***
Rourke
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It’s eight thirty. I’ve been pacing the living room for the last half hour. I checked, and the show was only forty-five minutes long. Did something happen? I’m about to check my watch again when I hear the roar of a motorcycle pull into the driveway. No fucking way was she on a motorcycle, those things were dangerous.
I have the door open in time to see a guy about my height, built like a tank with a big beard, help Olivia off the back of the bike. She’s wobbly for a minute as she takes off the helmet. A sigh of relief comes out of me, at least she was wearing a helmet. It doesn’t stop me from growling at the guy. I don’t care if he’s her brother. “You had her on the back of a motorcycle?”
The guy looks my way. When our eyes meet, he nods then smiles. His arm goes around Olivia’s neck, pulling her close, kissing her temple. “Yes, Vega, I did. I also never went above forty-five, and she was always wearing the helmet tightly strapped on. Now she’s back into the care of your loving arms. You’d better take care of her, or I’ll break your face.”
Olivia blushes as Gabe pushes her toward me. “Thanks, Gabe, I’ll talk to you later. Be careful.”
“I will, Liv. See you around, Vega.” With a nod he’s gone.
“Sorry about Gabe, he’s...” She shrugs. “Gabe.”
My arm goes around her, pulling her close. “Why the hell were you on the back of a bike? Those things are death traps. I never want to see it again. No way.”
She laughs as she kisses my cheek. “Yes, Dad, whatever you say, Dad.”
“I’m not joking, Olivia,” I nearly yell as I slam the front door closed.
Tossing herself on the sofa, she smiles up at me. “I’m not joking either. If you don’t want me on the back of the bike I won’t get on it anymore. It’s something I only do once a year anyway, on my birthday. Gabe kind of dared me, but it’s like he said, he never gets to go above forty-five so we stay off the highway.”
“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”
“Oh...” Another pretty blush as she shrugs. “I didn’t want you to think I expected anything from you.”
“Not even when you have a right to expect something from the man you’ve given your body to freely for the last three months?” I go down on my knees in front of her. “You deserve something, you should expect something.”
Her hands go into my hair as she leans down. “Take me to bed and give me what I deserve.”
I swing her up into my arms and carry her to our room, then set her on the bed. Slowly, savoring each inch of skin I uncover, I undress her. My cock aches to find her in black lace panties and matching bra. I like them so much I leave them on as I undress. Her eyes glow as I push off my pants and boxer briefs in one go.
Back on the bed I tongue her sweet pussy through the lace, loving the way her juices coat the fabric. I tease her until she’s mindless, then draw the lace down, my hands grazing every inch of her skin as the panties are slipped off. She opens her legs wide, pleading for my mouth. For such pretty pleas I can’t deny her. Fuck. Her pussy, I swear I have never seen another as perfect, the way her lips open, the scent, the taste. I’m lost in the sweet juices flowing from her. Since it’s her birthday treat I only bring her to the edge of climax once before allowing her to come with a scream of my name.
Watching her body tremble in the aftermath, I can’t take my eyes off her. I note there have been changes in her body since the first time I saw her naked, yet the changes have no bearing on the fact she is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even as I am aware there have to be other women, I cannot recall them. They fade from memory, in comparison to Olivia.
Her breasts heave with the need to take in air. I adore her breasts, full, heavy yet tilting up in a pouting plea for my mouth. Her nipples a bright, sweet cotton-candy pink to match her pussy. Every inch of her is sweet to me. I capture a tight nipple, sucking deeply as my tongue toys with the nipple and my hand moves to tease her other one. With a sigh her hands go into my hair to hold me to her, as if I could stop once I just started.
Although my teeth graze the tight bud, I hold back from nipping at the tender flesh. I love the way she doesn’t flinch from me being rough, the way she often invites it, but I also love the times I’m able to simply pay homage to this beautiful body under my care. I move to her other breast, suckling deep, and for a brief moment my mind flashes on our daughter sucking from this very breast.
What the hell was that? I’ve never let myself dream of kids—if I had no wife, then I would have no children. Yet as I suckle deeper the vision won’t leave me: a baby girl with bright brown eyes, dimples and my chin and Olivia’s nose. She would be an amazing mother. No, let it go. I force my mind back to the moment, back to now because it’s all I have, all that matters.
With a pop I let go of her breast, then kiss my way up to her open, panting mouth. She opens even wider to deepen the kiss, giving up her soul to me, to keep safe, to care for. My cock slides into her sweet pussy with little more than a guiding hand. She sighs as she always seems to when I first enter her, her pupils dilating, then she closes her eyes as if savoring the feel of me. Thrusting deep into the heart of her, I’m home. Her legs draw up around me, to take me even deeper. I don’t move, taking in this moment, the feel of her hot, tight pussy throbbing around me. Perfection, for me, is this—is Olivia in all her forms, laughing, teasing, loving—fuck, loving me, with her eyes, her lips, the touch of her hands, the way her body welcomes me.
I move now, pulling out, and her body grasps me tight from inside. Pushing back, she clings, then I’m withdrawing. Fuck, her pussy is tight. Harder I thrust, again and again. She’s whispering my name, chanting it as if it’s a holy word. Faster I move, deeper, harder, I feel her pussy tighten around me, she’s on the edge...I move faster, thrusting deeper, sending her over the edge. Her body grasps me, milking my cock, sending me over after her. Her little “ah” is music to my ears, knowing she loves the feeling of my coming inside her. It’s a close second to watching her swallow my come after she sucks my cock.
I’m slow to move off her, keeping us connected the way she likes so she’s half on my chest. Her hand strokes my chest as she sighs. “Thank you, but actually my birthday is tomorrow. Do you think we can do it just like this tomorrow?”
“Hmm...I think so. Whatever the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets.”
Her sigh is low, yet I can still make out the words, “If only.”