Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(36)

No, he wouldn’t have that. He might have a no touching rule for the day, but there were no restrictions on talking. Reminding her of how amazing they were together physically couldn’t hurt, right? Careful not to make contact, Oliver moved his body closer until they were an inch apart. Just enough to feel her body heat. He watched the pulse in her neck beat faster the closer he came. Not licking that fluttering flesh caused him actual pain.

Trying to ignore the tightening in his briefs, he leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear. “Everyone in this elevator knows I’m f*cking you. How do you feel about that?”

She gulped in oxygen, causing her breasts to graze his chest. Fuuuck. “I don’t care.”

“No?” She swayed her hips forward to meet his, and he shoved them away with a curse, pinning them to the wall with shaky hands. “If you don’t care then by all means, keep looking at me like that.” He raised his voice to just above a whisper, curious to see how she’d react if there was a chance someone could overhear. “They all wish they could have you, moaning and grinding in that frilly come and get it dress, but everything underneath is mine. All mine.”

“Yes.” Eyelids fluttering, Eliza followed suit, her husky voice raising an octave. “All yours.”

Unbelievable. His girl was game for anything. Brave, unapologetic. Magnificent. Both cell phone calls had ended behind him and heavy silence reined. Two instincts warred inside Oliver. The instinct insisting he keep the knowledge of her to himself and the instinct that this exhibitionism was turning her on like nothing else ever had. Same as Friday night. None of these men would ever lay a finger on her. He had to keep telling himself that as he spoke just a hint louder. “You sound like a girl who wants a reward, Eliza.”

“Only if you’re the one giving it to me.” A mischievous light sparkled in her eyes. Very subtly, she reached between them and traced a finger down the ridge of his hard cock. Oliver’s mouth went dry, and he barely managed to contain a growl. It took him a moment to realize his thumbs were digging into her hips bones, took considerable effort not to push more firmly against her hand. God, she was enjoying this, wasn’t she? He must not be hiding the conflict inside of him at all because she looked triumphant after calling his bluff. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and exposed her neck, tilted her head to one side. “What’s it going to be Oliver?”

She’d said it out loud, not even bothering to keep her voice low. Behind him, the elevator doors rolled open to reveal the lobby. No one moved.

“Excuse us,” Oliver said through clenched teeth. As soon as the men piled out of the elevator, muttering to each other or under their breath, he dragged Eliza out by the hand and led her to a semi-private corner of the bustling lobby. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, gaze bright. There wasn’t anything more beautiful on the planet than her at that moment. Get her somewhere private and f*ck her until she can’t see straight. That’s what he wanted to do. So damn bad. He wanted to praise her for being so free in the elevator. For letting go. But there was so much more at stake. The privilege of showing up at her office and taking her to lunch whenever he wanted. The privilege of sleeping beside her. Waking her up with his body. He took a deep breath and attempted to rein himself in. “I told you upstairs that you’d spend the day needing me, Eliza. I told you the rule and now you’re trying to break it. Should I make you wait longer? Three days? A week?” As long as I need to convince you I’m worth a damn.

The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, but her breath caught at the command in his voice. “No, I don’t want that.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

He tugged her toward the exit, but she resisted, searching his face. “Oliver,” she murmured, “tell me what this is really about. I…you seem stressed. I don’t want to be the reason for that.”

His heart constricted, denial burning through his chest. With the lobby’s crowds swirling around them and voices funneling together to create white noise, she became the only tangible thing in the room. Maybe in his life. Her eyes were his safety net as her statement hung in the air. Could he be honest with her? Reveal himself, right here in this moment? Logically, he didn’t think he could risk it. Not when he knew how she saw him. A responsibility-free player. But his instincts, maybe even the organ pounding so furiously in his ribcage, begged him to unload the burden. Tell her. She’ll understand.

“Eliza, I’m—”

His cell phone went off in his jacket pocket, tinny and loud. Son of a bitch. With an impatient noise, he reached into his pocket without looking and silenced the cell. Immediately, it started ringing again. She looked concerned as she watched him give in, dragging his phone out to check the screen. “Just answer it. We’re not in a rush.”

Oliver had the absurd desire for her to be less understanding, to demand he ignore the call and continue with what he’d wanted to say. But when he told Eliza he needed her in his life, it wouldn’t be with the Batman theme song playing in the background. He ran an irritated hand through his hair and checked the screen. Manhattan area code, but no name…weird. It could be an advertiser ready to pull the trigger, though, so he had to answer. He gave Eliza an apologetic look. “Oliver Preston.”

“Yeah, hi. Howya doing?” A thick Queens accent reached him. “This is Joe De Luca. You’ve been trying to get in touch with my niece about that scholarship?”