Page 197 of The Catalyst

“Oliver,” I mutter. “His name is Oliver, not Behemoth.”

Vera shrugs as if it's no consequence to her, completely uninterested. “The other cabin is yours. It’s been unused for a while, but it should be enough for what you require. I have conditions which we will discuss over dinner. You have an hour until it’s ready. I expect you to be washed and present.” Then, she turns and walks back into the house, not even registering that she left her shotgun on the porch.

She’s a strange one.

“I don’t like her already,” Ollie grumbles as he throws his arm around my shoulder.

I snicker before smirking at his grumpy ass.

“You don’t likeanyone. The list of people you like is shorter than the number of months I’ve been knocked up, and people call me antisocial,” I tease.

He grabs my ass possessively, and the shiver that runs through my body is drenched with desire, coating all the way down to my toes.

“I like you. That should count for something,” he whispers in my ear as we start toward our cabin.

I can’t help laughing at the ridiculousness. “Need I remind you of the time when you threatened to either kill me or make me bleed from all three holes?”

“And you didn’t even flinch, my good fucking crazy girl.” He has no remorse whatsoever, and something about his unapologetic nature is such a huge turn-on.

“That’s not the point, Ollie. There was a time when you hated me,” I detail. Still, he quickly spins me around and presses my back against the side of the cabin, hovering over me with his dark, rake energy that drives me crazy, a single blonde curl falling in his face, away from the sea of blackness.

“Ineverfucking hated you, baby, and you know deep down that you didn’t hate me either. You may have annoyed me a bit, but I have wanted you since the moment you ran into me at that party.” His thumb runs across my bottom lip as he stares at the strip of pale pink skin, looking positively starved. “I wanted to take you straight to bed that night, but…fucking Gunderson.”

I can’t help laughing. “Judy cockblocked you big time. She even advised me to stay as far away from you as possible.”

His face twists with amusement. “And you didn’t listen. Naughty girl.” He grabs my ass again before placing a soft kiss on my temple.

“I never listen. I’m a brat, remember?” I tease before running my fingers over that one blonde curl like I always do. What some would consider an imperfection is what makes Ollie so special. Sometimes, he calls my strip of silver hair abattle scar. It’s proof that I made it through the heartbreak of losing my dad. Hisbirth defect,as he calls it, is symbolic of him. He’s an anomaly.

Oliver Doyle is a psychopath. He has very few people in this world that he cares about, but the ones he does, he would die for. He would kill for us, but he would also restrain his psychotic tendencies for what we need, including me.

He is a psycho with a heart of gold.

Pressing his fingers under my chin, he tilts my head up, holding my gaze with such affection my heart screeches to a halt. “I like you being a brat, crazy girl. It means I get to punish you, and it makes me so fucking hard justthinkingof the ways Icould.”

And just like that, the muscle in my chest remembers how it works and slams repeatedly against my ribs, and my panties are completely destroyed.

He knows just what to say to get me going, but the bad part is we can’t do anything about it with my body still covered in sore muscles.

I love painful sex, but this baby probably wouldn’t like that.

“You can’t punish me right now, though,” I point out breathlessly.

His eyes darken exponentially. “I don’t want to punish you right now, crazy girl. I want my tongue–” My whole body quakes from the things that one body part can do to me, no matter what part of me it touches. “—wrapped around your clit.”

Now, that is something I can handle, depending on the position my body is in. I still have sore muscles in my legs and stomach.

“Not out here. Vera might see you.”

“I’m not unfamiliar with being watched.”

Neither am I, but I don’t want to push her buttons. I don’t know Vera, and the last thing we need is to be kicked off the property because we can’t control ourselves.

“Let’s go inside,” I whisper, even as a moan slips past my lips.

He doesn’t argue. Oliver gives me a quick peck on the lips before taking my hand. I turn the knob and push the door open, stepping inside.

I nearly jump back in shock from the state of the cabin. The air is stuffy, everything is covered in dust, and the amount of old spider webs is insane. Thank God I don’t have arachnophobia, or this would be a complete nightmare.

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