Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(47)

Voices in the kitchen. Philip and Caroline. Only yards away from them. Eliza’s eyes flew wide.

“Don’t you dare stop, Eliza. You will not stop until you suck me down.”

Relief. She actually felt relief that the decision had been taken out of her hands. Wanting to touch all of him at once, she reached between his legs and cupped his balls, massaging them in her palm. He growled once and gave a tight, final thrust, sending warmth down the back of her throat as he grasped her head to his lap.

“Fucking hell, take it. Take it in your sweet f*cking mouth. Not yours, not his, mine. My mouth to f*ck. It’s mine. Mine now. I made it that way.”

When he finally released her head, Eliza gulped in deep breaths of air, feeling like she’d just been spat from the eye of a tornado. She looked up at Oliver from her knees to find him looking just as shell-shocked as she felt. A huge, aching part of her needed him to scoop her up into his arms and tell her how unbelievable and brave she was. The way he’d done every single time they’d been together. But the moment came and went, speeding past in a flash of light, dragging her heart away with it. With the passing of that moment, everything else rushed in, anger at the forefront. Not his, Oliver had said as he climaxed. This whole encounter had been driven by jealousy. His damaged pride. He’d used her. And it hurt like hell.

“Babe, come here.”

“No.” Knowing she needed to get away from him or she’d scream, Eliza stood on shaky legs and repaired her skirt. He hissed a curse and saw to his own state of undress, before striding toward her. No. Every part of her rebelled at the idea of being touched by him. She’d crumble. Just before he reached her, she lunged for the door. “We’re done, Oliver.”

“Eliza.” He pressed against her before she could turn the knob, aligning his chest with her back. Hold firm. Don’t break. When he kissed her shoulder, she slammed her eyes shut and held her breath. “We’re not over. Not yet.” She frowned over the panic in his voice. “You still need me to make the phone call to Porter, right? I won’t do it if you back out.” He placed an open-mouth kiss beneath her ear, lathed the spot with his tongue. “Let me make you feel good one more time. Then I’ll do it.”

Warmth pooled between her legs. Foolish, unwanted sensations she wanted to banish but couldn’t. Anger at herself, at Oliver, rolled over her in waves. She could get in touch with Porter on her own, and they both knew it. If she even wanted to, and if she was honest with herself, she hadn’t thought of the man in a sexual contest since they’d met at Serve. But a part of her wanted Oliver to make the phone call. Wanted him to feel used, the same way she just had. Maybe Oliver calling another man to set them up would give her the push she needed to walk away and not look back.

Dammit. She also wanted another night with him. Couldn’t resist the temptation his touch represented. Even though it might kill her.

“I never said I was backing out. You still have a phone call to make,” she said, feeling numb. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She felt his arms fall away from her like they’d been weighed down with stones as she pushed into the kitchen. Philip and Caroline turned to look at her in surprise as she rattled off compliments about the spacious backyard.





Chapter Twenty


Oliver didn’t bother hanging up his tie, simply tossing it into his closet and kicking the door shut. He paced the loft, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt as he went. Eliza would be here in a few minutes, and he felt like a prisoner who’d been granted a stay of execution. A man who knew the end was inevitable, but wouldn’t give up his final minutes for anything in the world.

Thank Christ he had more time with her. If he left her with the memory of what they’d done last night as their final encounter, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. The only thing that had gotten him out of bed this morning had been the knowledge that he’d have a chance to blur out his treatment of her with something better. She’d been so beautiful and willing on her knees, looking up at him like he was worth a f*cking second of her time…and he’d been so goddamn angry, he hadn’t been able to see past it. Hadn’t taken care of her. As if some dangerous fuse had been lit inside of him at the mention of Porter, he’d been almost animalistic in his need to possess her. Mark her. He hadn’t gone slow or easy. Hadn’t encouraged or comforted her. Mostly, he’d been too stunned by his own behavior to react afterward, and then it had passed him by. Appalled with himself, he’d left with nothing more than a cursory good-bye to his sister and father before leaving in his car. He hadn’t been able to look at Eliza another second, remembering how harsh he’d been.

It wasn’t unusual for a dominant man to be rough, especially when the woman claimed to want it as Eliza had. But it had been up to him to give her what she was ready for. To anticipate her needs, not blindly follow words said in the heat of the moment. He hadn’t talked to her enough, hadn’t made sure. The fact that she’d still agreed to see him tonight made him wonder about her actual reasons for agreeing. Despite her parting shot last night, he didn’t want to think it had anything to do with Porter or the phone call, but he worried that it might. Fuck, the idea hurt. Everything about this hurt.

When she walked out of there tonight, the final pieces of his heart he’d been frantically gluing together for the last week would fall apart. Without another encounter with her on the horizon, he would lack the energy to repair himself next time. He knew that instinctively. Already, he felt partially invisible, like his existence depended solely on her presence. As the minutes ticked down to seven o’clock, it got harder to breathe. He had to restrain himself from waiting for her in the hallway.