Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(12)

“Drink.”

She did as he asked, watching silently as he took another shot himself. “Does the second shot reverse the deal? I can’t remember.”

“Should we take a third shot to reverse it back?”

“Don’t ask, just pour.”

Shit. She was fun. They threw back the shot and slammed their glasses down at the same time, the loud noise echoing through his kitchen. Her full lips tilted into a smile, still damp from the alcohol. The light hit her wet mouth, beckoning him closer, and his blood sped up in his veins. Oh Christ, what he wanted to do with that mouth. The sexual urgency he’d been missing lately had decided to make up for lost time, demanding he drag her off the stool and push her onto her knees. The image alone of Eliza staring up at him obediently as she sucked him between her lips was enough to make him groan. He watched as her mouth parted on a gasp, igniting the quick rise and fall of her breasts. A pink flush crept up her throat and ended at her cheeks, a sign of innocence that only made him harder.

“Oliver, can you start teaching me now?”

Her husky question nearly killed him. Could he start tonight? He felt a little too desperate, a little too heavy under the weight of his suddenly robust craving to f*ck. Hard. Of course it would have to be Eliza who finally brought it back for him. The girl who needed patience and caution. If he came on too strong, turned her off to what was possible, how was he any better than Porter? The motherf*cker.

“We need to get comfortable with each other first,” Oliver managed, barely hearing himself over the pounding in his temples. He stepped forward, stifling a groan when her knees opened to brush the outsides of his hips. So easy. It would be so easy just to take her on this stool. He knew when a woman wanted to be filled up by him. Could almost feel the throb between her thighs, one he’d created. She would let him rip off her panties and plant himself deep, she’d love it. He’d love it.

But if he took her simply because he wanted to, it would blur everything between them. She’d come to him for a reason, and it wasn’t for a quick, dirty romp. No matter how satisfying. No, she’d trusted him to teach her, give her the knowledge she would need to be safe. He wanted her safe.

“Comfortable?” She whispered the word against his mouth.

Oliver breathed deeply, immediately wishing he hadn’t when her white roses scent kicked him in the gut. “Yes.” He leaned in and ran his open mouth along her jawline. “You should always know the person you’re with. You can’t have trust otherwise.”

“But I already trust you,” she protested on a whimper, tipping her head to the side. “We’ve known each other forever.”

“No.” He dragged his teeth up the side of her neck, growling when she trembled. “You know me as Oliver, your friend’s brother. The guy who gave you platonic hugs and wished you luck on your exams. The guy who asked you about your college classes or whether or not you liked your professors.” With one hand, he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head so he could speak very precisely beside her ear. “I’ve got news for you, Eliza. I didn’t give a f*ck about your classes or your professors. I wanted to get you alone and screw your little college coed body silly.”

She moaned loudly and scooted closer to him on the stool, stopping just short of his groin. “I—you did? I didn’t know…”

He forced her to look him in the eye. “There’s your first lesson. You never really know anybody. So be careful who you trust. Say it, Eliza.”

“Be careful who I trust.”

“Not just with your body. With all of you.” He took a hungry pull from her mouth, the perfect taste of her making his thoughts go fuzzy. Struggling to get them back he said, “There’s more than sex at stake here. You’re abandoning your will…but you can always take it back. Remember that.”

She moved ever-so-slightly closer, and the heat between her legs finally reached him, cradling his pulsing erection. They groaned into each other’s mouths. He caught her legs halfway on their ascent to his waist and jerked them high, tight. Out of control. This was getting out of control. Slow. Down.

Oliver picked her up off the stool and strode toward the living room. Halfway there, her mouth had already tempted him half out of his mind, so he slowed to a stop at the edge of his couch and took what she’d offered, twining their tongues together mercilessly, not satisfied enough to stop until she was clawing at his back. Trying her best to climb higher on his body. He took one more step and brought her ass up against the back of his couch, rubbing his ready cock against her. No way of stopping himself. Eliza’s mouth broke from his on a sob. Her eyes were heavy with lust. Gone. So gone. He needed her. Just like this. How could he pass this up?

His brain raged at him to reign in his need, take things one step at a time, but his hands weren’t listening. They dragged her skirt higher, higher until it was bunched around her waist. White panties…wet at the center…f*ck. Rife with anticipation, he reached between their bodies and cupped her *.

“Oliver,” she gasped. “Oh my God.”

A tide rose inside him. He didn’t recognize the feeling that was suddenly choking off his oxygen, but his confusion didn’t decrease its potency. Something about the way she felt in his hand, looked at him with absolute trust. He didn’t feel like himself, but at the same time, he’d never felt more at home in his skin. In the midst of it all, a storm raged. One he didn’t see coming until the clouds had darkened ominously, directly overhead. Eliza writhed against his hand, a sight he demanded his overwhelmed conscious commit to memory. Watching her reaction closely, he pressed a firm thumb to her clit.