Page 5 of The Negotiator

We’re both almost panting, and when my hand slides down his hard, broad chest, his heart slams against my palm.

The need for him is almost painful and unbearable.

“Olivia…” he growls.

I swallow hard. “Oli.”

“Hmm?”

“My friends call me Oli.”

“Are we friends now?”

“Depends.”

“On what?” He lowers his mouth until his lips ghost over mine.

“On whether you’re about to kiss me or not.”

“Oli…” The instant my name leaves his lips, he pulls me to him and kisses me with an urgency, intensity, and ferocity that takes my breath away. It’s a kiss I will remember for the rest of my life. A kiss that empties my mind, makes my limbs tingle with excitement and causes my heart to do somersaults.

Maybe another woman has possessed me because I don’t just kiss him back, I clutch his face and plunge my tongue into his mouth until our tongues tangle. I suck his tongue, he sucks mine, and by the time we pull apart, we’re both trying to catch our breaths.

Oh my God.

I didn’t just do that. I didn’t just give in after a day of knowing this guy. Not just any guy either.

Except…

Given a chance to go back five minutes ago, I’d still do it. Over and over and over again.

“You know, Oli, I know what you’re trying to do.”

My brain has turned to sludge or the kiss has fried all the important bits because I stare at him like an idiot. “What do you mean?”

Oliver chuckles again before he sucks my bottom lip between his teeth, making me automatically rub my thighs together. “When I asked you for a tour, I didn’t mean to bring me to the island’s best spots. I prefer you to take me to your favorite ones.”

I can never keep secrets from my mom. She is my best friend, so telling her what happened earlier is at the tip of my tongue. It has been since I came home an hour ago.

The scent of garlic and onion wafts through the air as I let them sizzle on the pan before I lower the heat. Glancing over at Mom, who’s seated near the window with her easel in front of her, I try to think of different ways to break the ‘news’ to her. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic, but she deserves to know. I went with Oliver intending to convince him to leave us alone, and I ended up on his lap and kissing him like my life depended on it.

Ugh. Remembering that kiss has my body going haywire again and warmth spreading to my cheeks. Everything’s happening too fast.

Mom’s partly gray hair is tied in a loose bun, and she hovers the paintbrush on the canvas before she begins brushing with practiced ease.

“We kissed,” I blurt out and wince, fully prepared for an hour-long lecture.

Mom doesn’t even look my way. “Hmm?”

“Oliver Abbot. We kissed.”

Again, she doesn’t stop painting. “Oh, yeah? He seems nice.”

I round the small kitchen counter and stand beside her, propping my hands on my hips. “Mom, he’s trying to kick us off our own property so they can build resorts we can’t even afford. I’m supposed to show him why we can’t have an overflowing number of tourists all year long because they might destroy the island.” With a sigh, I scrub my hands across my face. “And the next thing I know, I’m shoving my tongue down his throat.”

Mom puts the brush down and wipes her hands on her apron. She finally looks at me and shakes her head. “Oli, that wasn’t an invitation for details. Jesus.”

“Okay, sorry, but you know what I mean. I’m so disappointed in myself.”

---