“Those aren’t necessary,” Olivia says. I want to tell her they are, because I might try to hit him again. I’d hit him harder. I’d knock him out cold. I’d do whatever I had to do to keep him away from my girlfriend.
I can’t leave her.
“Have a seat, sir,” the officer tells me. I cooperate fully, sitting on the hardwood with my back against the wall. Livvy moves in front of me, getting into my line of sight and taking that creep out of it. She calms me with her sweet smile.
“Are you okay?” I look over her made-up face. She’s wearing much more eyeshadow than she usually does. I remember she was going to meet with a client. I won’t let her go anywhere with him. I touch one of her curls, my hands still restrained, entranced by her beauty.
“I’m fine,” she answers. “Why are you here?”
“You said you were stopping by here. I thought you’d be alone,” I admit. “I thought it was an invitation,” I explain earnestly. “What happened?” I ask her softly.
“I don’t really know,” she says. “I don’t know how it happened. He just told me I was attractive and kissed me.” She glances down at what she’s wearing. In the chaos, I hadn’t noticed the sexy black dress, and boots. “Maybe I brought it on myself, with this dress or–”
“Olivia, did you want him to kiss you?” I ask her again. Sure, she looks sexy as hell, but decent gentlemen have restraint. Even most indecent ones wouldn’t make a move on a teenager.
“Of course not, Jon.”
“Then don’t think for a second you invited his attention.” I shake my head for emphasis.
“I’m just really glad you showed up.” A look of fear returns to her eyes.
“Was he forceful?” I squint in Abram’s direction, feeling my nostrils flare in anger. “Was he?” I ask again when she doesn’t answer.
“A little, yes.” I’ll hit him again. I struggle to get up, but Olivia has a slight advantage while I’m seated with my hands cuffed. She presses down on my shoulders, restraining me.
“She’s seventeen, you pervert! I never did trust you.”
“Livvy, what the hell is going on?” I turn to the door to find her father there, looking just as confused as I felt when I walked in, I’m sure.
“Mr. Holland,” the doorman says, “I couldn’t get in touch with Emi, so I assumed you would want to know.” It takes me merely a second to figure out what happened. Francisco called Jack because I showed up. I’m not the one who tried to hurt Livvy. I never would.
I came here to ask her if we could break up for a bit. I would have hurt her, in my own way. There’s no way I’d do it now. A mix of jealousy and protectiveness have overwhelmed me, and I don’t want her to stray from me. I’m afraid if I let her go, she wouldn’t come back.
“Thank you,” Jack says. “What happened?” He glances down at my arms, and gets suddenly angry. “Why is he in handcuffs?”
“He went after this man–”
“Abram,” her agent finally speaks up, the first time I’ve heard his weak, British accent all day. He starts to sit down on the bed – the bed that Olivia and I made love on a few months ago.
“Can you please not sit there?” I demand. Livvy rubs my forearm with her hand. When I look at her, she’s smiling, obviously recalling the same memory I was. When I look at Jack, though, I want to crawl into the floor. He knows we were here. He knows this is where I was intimate with his daughter. He believes this is where I took her purity.
Jack puts his hand on his forehead and breathes in a few times. “Olivia Sophia, I came home early so I could escort you to this meeting, but why is there blood trickling from your agent’s nose?” I can tell he’s struggling to put together the pieces of this story.
“Jon hit him.”
Her father shakes his head. “I gathered that. Why?”
“It was just a misunderstanding, Mr. Holland.” I hate that creep’s voice.
“Right,” I huff. “Abram was here alone with Olivia, and he tried to take advantage of her–”
“That’s not exactly true.”
“Tell me, then, what exactly is true?” I gather by the way Jack stalks over to him that he’s taken note of the lipstick on Abram’s lips. I think he might hit him, too.
“Sir, please calm down,” the security officer warns.
“I’m calm,” Jack says, and I’m grateful that expression isn’t for me. “Francisco,” he says, still looking at Abram, “can you please get the guard out of here?” I hope he hits him. “After he removes the handcuffs.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Olivia’s agent looks scared out of his mind, his face going pale.
“There will be no more punches.” I wish he would have decked that asshole, but I’m ready to step in, if he can’t. Jack looks in my direction. “I’ll take responsibility for Jon’s future actions. Something tells me they were warranted, though.”
I wanted to hit him again!
Livvy’s father continues. “I own this property, and at this point, I believe someone in here is trespassing, and I’d like to have a word with him.” I feel other eyes on me, but I watch Abram, unable to hide the smug satisfaction. Jack trusted this man implicitly with his daughter, when he never wanted to trust me. It’s a good feeling to see him take my side for once.
“Officer, please take the handcuffs off the boy.”
SPRING BREAK (JON)
I shouldn’t feel so much anxiety. I should be excited to see Olivia, but all I can think about is the fact that yet another guy tried to kiss her.
She didn’t let him, though. Still, I trusted Finn. I trusted her with Finn – I always have – and now, I’ll question his motives any time they’re together.
And they’re always thrown together.
Why I trusted him, I don’t know. Not after he cheated on his girlfriend with another girl he hardly knew. Camille was heart-broken. For weeks, her calls interrupted my dates with Livvy as she cried over him.
According to my watch, their plane should have landed ten minutes ago. I glance once more at the screen, and finally see her flight number on the display above the baggage carousel. She’s landed safely. It won’t be much longer, and I’ll get to hold her in my arms. I’d been anxiously awaiting this since nearly the moment I left Manhattan, wishing I could spend spring break with her, but the anticipation to see her has multiplied exponentially since finding out about Finn.
Finally, I see her, her face more tan than I’ve seen it in a long time. She’s wearing the shirt I gave her before I left, and she looks beautiful and refreshed. Even with sunglasses covering her eyes, I can tell she’s just as happy to see me as I am to see her. I needed that reassurance.
It’s dumb to feel self-conscious, but I do.
Waiting for her to come through the turnstile, I drop my things and hold out my arms, ready to greet her. She kisses me even before saying hello, and I’ve never been happier, getting such a welcoming response from her. I shouldn’t feel threatened by Finn. It’s clear that she’s mine.
I fix her tangled locks and remove her sunglasses. I glance at her shirt, trying to catch my breath.
Someone in Utah loves me. Since we’re both back in Manhattan, the slogan really doesn’t apply anymore. “That shirt can come off now. I’m home, baby.”
“What, here?” she asks with a sultry smile as she grabs the bottom of it. God I can’t wait to get her back to my dorm. I can’t wait to get her out of that shirt. I grab her hands, kissing her again, letting my imagination go wild with all the things I want to do with her.
When I look up, I immediately see her mom and dad. That’s a definite mood-killer. “There are your parents.” I wave at them, weakly, happy that no one can peer into my private thoughts. I concentrate hard on my expression, trying to look as neutral as possible, even though further evidence of my feelings are more difficult to conceal. Livvy stays in front of me, thankfully.
“We don’t need to wait for them,” she says. “We’re getting a cab, remember?”
I do remember, and should just go hail that cab, but I see the kid that tried to coerce my girlfriend into kissing him. The jealousy comes back with a vengeance.
“And Finn is coming this way.” He wears a smug expression, as if he is withholding a secret. I’m guessing she didn’t tell him that she told me he tried to kiss her, or else he’d probably be avoiding me altogether.
“Jon,” he says cockily, offering his hand as if he was some sort of gentleman. I know better.
“Finn,” I respond, acting like I’m going to accept his gesture, but instead, I punch him in the stomach. Not hard, but just hard enough to stun the stupid grin off his face. He reflexively covers his skinny torso with his crossed arms, and I smile at him, hoping my eyes are telling him what my mouth isn’t. Stay away from her. She’s mine.
And I could tell him that right here, but I have other things I’d rather use my lips for. While Finn still stares in shock, I pull Olivia’s body into mine and kiss her as romantically as I possibly can. It’s the kind of kiss we normally only share when we’re alone, my tongue venturing in her mouth, and hers in mine. I hold her tighter, wishing we truly were alone as my body strains for hers.
“Public place,” her mother says softly into Livvy’s ear. It’s loud enough for both of us to hear, though, and I’m a little embarrassed to have done that in front of Emi. It wasn’t the classiest moment, but I’m feeling pretty bawdy right now anyway, and I don’t think I could hide it if I tried. We really just need to get that cab and get the hell out of here.
Finn’s still watching us when I glance back in his direction. I pat his cheek. “That’s how it’s done, kiddo.” I think he understands now. Olivia and I were made for each other, and our kiss is further proof of that. If he has any expectation of her ever sharing a moment with him like that, he’s a fool… but I suspect he’s smarter than that – if only a little. “Can we please go?” I ask her urgently, feeling her earlobe against my bottom lip and wanting desperately to suck on it because I know what it does to her.
I cannot wait to do that to her.
Focused on getting the taxi, I start to lead her in that direction.
“Eight o’clock,” I hear Jack say. I keep walking, until I hear him address me. “And hello, Jon.” I don’t want to see him. I want to see his daughter, naked, in my dorm room. Now.
“Jack,” I say, looking beyond him and not at him, “I’ll make sure she’s home by eight.” That gives us plenty of time, although by 7:45, I’m sure I won’t want to let her go.
“Thank you.” I briefly shake his hand before Olivia pulls me away from him. She helps me with one of my bags, freeing my arm up to put it around her shoulder and keep her body as close to me as possible.
She’s mine. I’m maddened by that thought. I want her. I’ve never wanted her like this.
In the cab, I try to clear my head from the impure thoughts, but I know they’ll be back momentarily. She sidles up next to me, swinging one of her legs over mine. I’m going crazy.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” I ask her, having planned the question carefully on my way back from Utah.
“Bad,” she says, but then pulls me into yet another kiss. I don’t even want to break away to answer her.
“Denver’s having a snowstorm,” I say, speaking the last syllable against her lips.
“So?” she asks quickly.
“So Fred can’t get a flight back until tomorrow morning.” When she keeps kissing me, I’m not even sure she heard me. I back away, looking at her for a response.
“That sounds like good news,” she says, and I’m so glad she said it.
“It’s very good news.” I hope she understands what I want.
“I feel like it’s been years.”
Thank God, she does.
“Hasn’t it? Hours, days, years. It’s all too long. In fact, these minutes… how much longer?” She looks at me in anticipation, in wonderment. I kiss her neck, hoping to distract her from the feel of my hand inching up her dress.
She stops me after a few seconds. I was almost there.
When the cab stops in front of my dorm, I toss money indiscriminately to the driver. “Keep the change.” Olivia keeps her sunglasses on and her head tilted toward the ground until we get inside the hall. She’s walking just as quickly as I am, and is impatient as I fumble with the key to get in my room.
Once inside, I drop my things as I kick the door closed. She starts to walk over to my bed, and I follow her after locking the door.
“Shirt,” I say to her, wanting it off. She wastes no time, taking it by the hem and pulling it over her head. She tosses it behind us, and in the same moment she looks back, I put my palms against her flat stomach and kiss her shoulders. She jerks slightly when I touch her, and I realize how warm her skin is beneath my hands. I should slow down, warm them up for her, but I can’t wait any longer to have her.
I take her bra off and tell her I love her. I do want her to know that, because the way I’m lusting after her right now makes me want to be quick with her, be rough. My actions may not show my love for her, so the words will have to suffice this time.
She turns around in my arms and kisses me, and we both start to undress one another. When my gaze finally leaves her breasts and shifts to her eyes, I realize she’s looking beyond me in the mirror above my dresser. I want to watch us. I want her to watch us. God, I just want her.
“Turn around,” she says, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing. Once I do, though, I realize she just wants to kiss my tattoo, as she often does when we start making out. I keep my eyes on her, watching her as she moves between me and the mirror. Her back is to me. I want her this way. We’ve never done it this way, but I want to take her, just like this. I unzip her skirt, watching her expression as I plot my next move. Testing the waters, I push my body against hers. She leans against the dresser, but tips her head back with her eyes closed.
I think she wants it this way, too. He long neck calls out to me, and my tongue can’t wait to taste her. Just as I start to reach for her panties, she squirms a little, turning around to face me. For only a split second I feel disappointed, but then I feel the rest of her clothes brush against my legs as they fall to the floor.
“Oh, god,” I murmur, feeling her naked body and wanting it touching mine. I pull up one of her legs by the knee and hold it against my back, teasing her by nudging into her repeatedly. She struggles to remove my underwear. I laugh at her impatience. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” she groans, “I want this, so badly.”
“I can tell.”
“Please?” she begs, and I comply by undressing completely for her. She comes to me willingly and we kiss again. I just want to watch us. Seeing her like this, from both angles… seeing what I do to her… seeing how she reacts to me. Oh god, I want her so badly. “Can we lie down?” she asks at one point when I’m looking in the mirror. “This is driving me crazy.” She tries to guide me in that direction, but I’m much stronger, and I don’t want to move away from here, or away from her. I have her right where I want her.
Do I take her now? Just like this?
“Please?” she says again.
I breathe heavily, shaking my head. “I want you, Liv,” I admit. “I want to… I don’t know, I want to possess you.” I want her in animalistic ways. I want her like I’ve never wanted her.
“Like, put me under a spell, or, like, own me?” she asks. “Because I think you’re already well on your way to the first one.” Her gaze is rather hypnotic. I can’t read what she’s thinking. I don’t know what she’ll allow.
“Own you,” I answer honestly.
“What do you mean?” Her head leans against my chest, but then I feel her lick me. Holy shit. “Own me?” she asks before putting her tongue back on my pectoral muscle.
“Does that turn you on?” I ask her quickly. Gauging by her actions, I think I know her answer. I put my hands on her head and angle it upwards, making sure
I have her attention.
“A little.”
“Ohhhh…“ I say, my lips returning to hers hungrily, then traveling down her neck to her heart. “Jealousy does strange things to a man.” I want to be honest with her about my intentions. I have to be.
“What do you mean?” she asks. I stop to focus more on our conversation as my thumbs rub her hipbones lightly.
“I’m not thinking very clearly right now, Olivia. But even when I was… even in those moments in the past week when I was, I wasn’t.” I kneel in front of her and take her into my arms, pressing my lips to her stomach.
“You’re not making much sense now.”
“I know.” I’m nervous to express to her my desires, but I have to if I have any dream of her letting this happen. “Olivia, I want to do something with you that I’ve never done with anyone else.”
“Okay. Will it hurt?”
I wonder what she thinks I’m suggesting. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Will it feel good?” she follows up.
“I hope so.” I smile, imagining the feeling. “No, I know so.” I stand back up and rub the back of her neck, trying to loosen her up. She opens her mouth to kiss me again. I can’t stay away from her. I want her. But I have to tell her what I want. I pause once more, about to say it when her hand travels down my body, making me fully alert. “Just a second. Okay?”
“Okay,” she says tentatively.
When I planned this conversation in my mind earlier today, it seemed to flow so easily. Now, I just seem to be fumbling with the idea and with my words. “Have you missed any pills?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “No,” she answers, but it sound like a question.
“You take them like you’re supposed to?”
“Faithfully, every night before bed,” she says with certainty.
“Do you have them with you?”
“In my purse,” she says. I reach for her bag and give it to her. “Why?” she asks, reaching inside for the packet. I take it from her and study the rows of pills before snapping the lid shut and setting the container down. “Why?” she repeats.