Page 106 of The Wrecked One

“I’ll bunk with Gwen tonight.” Sydney nodded, her lips forming a slight knowing smile.

I highly doubted Oliver would actually let me in the bed with him, but there were two queen beds in the room, so we could stay together that way.

“Fine,” Oliver gave in. “But if you need us?—”

“We know where to find you.” Jack mock-saluted him, and Oliver rolled his eyes.

It felt like old times, and I was here for it, I just didn’t want Oliver in that fighting ring. Not even for three rounds. But I couldn’t think about that.

We said our goodnights to the team and left for our suite. Once we locked up, Oliver went to my bedroom instead of his.

I shut my door, locking that one, too, and slowly turned to find him undressing. Well, unbuttoning his shirt, at least.

He left it on but open, wrapping a hand around his brother’s ID tags, and that reminded me . . .

Do I call your dad? Tell him what’s happening?

“I’d ask if you’re okay, but that’d be a ridiculous question. None of us are.” I slipped free from my shoes and then went over to him.

“I’m just . . .” He shook his head.

“Yeah, me, too.” I looped my arms over his shoulders, drawing myself closer to him, and he let go of the tags and set his hands on my hips. “Your job is to rest, build your strength, and prepare for the fight. The team will handle the op-y stuff, okay?”

“Say that again.” His deep tone pebbled my skin, finally for a good reason.

“Which part?” I asked, a bit breathless and lightheaded being so close to him while alone.

“The made-up word.”

I smiled, which was almost shocking, but it happened anyway. “Op-y.”

He brought his lips to my forehead and gently kissed me. “You making up words makes me feel like things are normal. Is that strange?”

Not having you part of the team before this was the only part that never made sense. “No, no stranger than me twirling in this dress at the party to try and?—”

“Calm me down?” He pulled back to find my eyes again. “It worked, and whatever you’re doing now is working, too.”

“You mean with the made-up words, and my arms over your shoulders?” He dropped his eyes between our bodies, careful not to knock his head against mine. “Rotating your hips so you’re arching against my cock is most certainly distracting me.”

“Apparently my hips have a mind of their own.” Like, for real. I hadn’t realized I was doing that. “Want me to stop distracting you?”

Eyes returning to my face, he slipped one hand around to the curve of my ass cheek. “Not on your life, buttercup,” he murmured before his lips slanted over mine.

Hell would be there tomorrow.

My parents’ treachery another day.

And everything else in between.

I’d already made up my mind—and from the sounds of it, his—that tonight belonged to us.

And, ohhh . . . “You’re the one distracting me, aren’t you?” He knew I was scared about the fight, and he was trying to ease the weight of that burden. For now, at least. “Well-played.”

He smirked, then slipped the thin strap of my dress down my arm, dragging his mouth from my lips to my shoulder.

That was one way to distract me, and I’d take it.

He squeezed my ass harder as I lifted the front of my dress, showing him I was completely bare beneath it.

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