Page 57 of Fielder's Choice

I laugh harder this time. “Donotapologize for making my dick hard, Olive. I can promise this won’t be the last time you do.”

She sighs. “I feel bad. You clearly want more from me.”

“Olive.” My voice is stern as I cup her face with both hands. “I’m not going to deny that I want you. It’s extremely apparent that I do. But don’t you dare feel bad about that. I haven’t had sex in well over three years. I have no problem waiting. I don’t need anything more from you than you’re willing to give me.”

She leans into me, sighing happily. “You feel too good to be true, Lane.”

“The fact that basic human decency feels too good to be true says a lot about the state of the world right now.” I shake my head. “You deserve to feel comfortable in everything you do. As for me, my hand will be just fine.”

Lips brushing against mine, she whispers, “Thank you. I’m so glad I met you, Lane.”

“I’m glad I met you, too, Ballerina.”

But glad doesn’t even scratch the surface.

I’m thankful, grateful,lucky.

The luckiest man on the planet, honestly, that a woman this stunning even wants to give me the time of day, let alone get to know me and more.

I’ve been longing for a connection with somebody, and Olive Finch came in right when I needed her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just take the guest bed?” Olive asks shyly as she steps out of my en-suite bathroom in just one of my T-shirts and her black tights.

“Fucking positive,” I reply, taking her hand and leading her over. “When you’re here with me, this will be the only place you sleep.”

“Little controlling, don’t you think?” she teases, sliding up the bed and resting her head on a pillow.

“Just… worried,” I say softly, expressing some vulnerability. “The last time you were here, baby, you had a nightmare that had you screaming. If that happens again, I’d much rather you be beside me.”

Her face turns somber. “I hadn’t had one in months. I didn’t know it was going to happen again.”

I sit next to her on the bed, legs up as I lean on my hip and use my hand to support myself. “You don’t need to feel bad about it, Ballerina. I just don’t like the idea of you being alone if it happens again.”

“Thank you.” Olive’s smile is so soft and tender. With her deep brown hair splayed on the pillow behind her and my T-shirt around her, she’s the most beautiful she’s ever been. She’scomfortable.

“You don’t need to thank me, Liv. Believe me, I’m not sacrificing anything by having you in my bed.”

Her laugh is the sweetest melody. “Such a flirt, Hotshot.”

“I told you,” I murmur, leaning down and brushing my lips against hers. “I can’t help myself around you.”

“Then you’re lucky I don’t mind your flirting,” she rasps before kissing me softly.

I let my eyes rake over her body, tracing every perfect curve from her head to her toes, paying extra attention to her legs. Her long, flawless legs.

Legs that would look so good wrapped around my—

I cut off my sinful fantasy, but the damage is already done. My blood is pooling exactly where I don’t want it right now.

“Fuck,” I mutter, trying to adjust myself without attracting Olive’s attention. I do a terrible job, though, as her eyes dart right to my hand, and she sees exactly what I’m doing.

“Oh!” she squeals, averting her eyes. “Do you, uh… need to take care of that?”

“Nope,” I grit, willing my dick to go down. “Doing that would mean leaving you alone in my bed, and there’s no fucking way I’m doing that. You look damn good right here, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

“You really can’t help but flirt with me,” Olive laughs.

“Nope. You entice the hell out of me, baby.”

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