Thief (Love Me With Lies #3)(34)

A whip, I mentally tell her. Use it as a whip.



“Dude,” Ryan says when they’re distracted by their third round of shots. “You could have both tonight if you wanted to. Loosen up, man. Every time Olivia is around, you become celibate.”

I love Ryan, but in that moment, I want to slam my fist into his jaw. I stand up, looking around for the bathroom.

“I didn’t mean anything,” he says, catching the look on my face. I nod and pat his shoulder as I walk by to show no hard feelings.

My friends never liked Olivia. None of them could understand how a man that went from sleeping with every girl on campus could wait to cash in on a girl’s virginity for two years.

Ryan had relentlessly tried to get me to cheat, to the point where I’d eventually stopped hanging out with him.

My other friends had been no less direct.

“She’s a f*cking cock tease. There are other girls who look like her.”

It was true … most of it. She wasn’t an intentional cock tease, but that didn’t mean that ninety percent of the time I was with her, I didn’t have blue balls. There might have been other girls who looked like her, but there was no one who moved like Olivia. She was like water. She moved through everything no matter how hard it was. If there was something she couldn’t control, she’d flow right over the top of it and keep going.

I splash water on my face in the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. She’s in my eyes tonight.

I feel ridiculous being here. Clubbing like I’m a kid. I wipe my face and head out. I would say my goodbyes, call a cab, and stop acting like a twenty-year-old douchebag. I am weaving through the suddenly packed bar, when something flashes in the corner of my eye. An emerald green dress curved around a truly magnificent ass. Her hair is up, coiled like black snakes and falling down in places that make her look like walking sex. Two things happen: I get immediately hard, and I get immediately angry. Where the f*ck is Noah? I search the crowd for his dark hair and can’t find it. Maybe he went to the bathroom. I flinch at the thought of meeting him at a urinal. I’ll wait here until he comes back, then I’ll call a cab and leave before they see me. I stand glued to my spot for five minutes.



Olivia. I should have known she’d do this. When her life is in turmoil, Olivia hides on the dance floor. I find it disturbing. The girl knows how to move, which makes every male in the near vicinity move toward her. I watch as she lifts her arms above her head and sways from side to side. I see Cammie’s blonde head bobbing around next to her, and I grit my teeth. I look to the bar where my group is still lingering, and then back to Olivia. In a split decision, I move toward her. I am shaking I am so angry. I want to get to her before she-

She climbs onto a speaker. I stop short. She now has her own stage, and everyone is watching her. Including me, I’m watching her. I stand transfixed. If what just happened in my pants is happening to the other men in the room … I need to get to her before I kill someone. Where the f*ck is Noah? If he’s ever seen her dance, there’s no way he’d allow her to go out alone. Maybe they aren’t working things out. I brighten up at this. She’s dancing so seductively, a guy is trying to climb onto the speaker with her. Cammie smacks his back and shouts something at Olivia — who bends down to hear her. Her dress gapes and I see cleavage.

I shove someone aside and shoulder my way through her admirers. When I reach the speaker, I grab the guy by his shirt collar before he can hoist himself up and shove him to my left. Cammie turns around to see what’s happening, her eyes growing wide when she sees me. She tilts her head up to look at Olivia — who is still oblivious. All I can see are legs — toned, tanned — I reach up and wrap both hands around her waist, lifting her down. Her mouth drops open. I make sure to run the full length of her body down my own as I lower her.

She swears at me and smacks my chest. I hold her against me so she can get the full effect of what I’m about to say.

“Do you feel that?” I say into her ear. She glares up at me. “That’s what you’ve done to every man in this room.”

It’s fairly dark, but I can see the effect my words have on her. She doesn’t like to be the subject of sexual fantasy — little prude. I glance over at Cammie who mouths, Get her out of here.

I nod and push her in front of me. She’s had too much to drink already or she’d be fighting me. The bar is packed, and it’s hard to move us both through the throng of bodies. I press her back against my front and wrap my arms around her. We walk that way until we reach the doors. My lips are pressed together as a result of having one of her best assets bumping repeatedly against me. When we reach the fresh air, she’s quiet as I take her hand.

“Where’s your car?”

“At the office. Cammie drove me.”

I swear. Her office is a good eight blocks away from where we are.

I tug her along the sidewalk, her heels making clipping noises as she tries to keep up.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re walking to your car.”

“No!” She yanks her hand away. “I’m not spending an hour with you.”

I stride toward her, grab her face in my fingers, and kiss her roughly on the lips. I don’t let go of her face. “Yes, you f*cking are. I’m not letting you go back in there to get molested.”