Page 71 of The Payback Plan
Questions stacked on questions inside his brain, all battling for supremacy but he didn’t think he should ask for all the ghoulish details so he went with, ‘Did you… go to the police?’
‘Yes. And Oxford, the law faculty, was amazing. But it was hard to prove it was him. And it’s like the freaking Wild West out there on the internet. You get one place to take it down and it’s been shared to two more. It’s like the fucking Hydra.’
Oliver had no words. None that didn’t centre his own outrage and he couldn’t make this abouthisanger. Not sitting right here beside her when it wasPaigewho had been wronged so profoundly.
‘Anyway.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘That’s why I don’t like my picture being taken.’
Yeah. Little wonder. On impulse, Oliver removed his arm from her shoulder, turning to roll on top of her, the duvet preventing any skin to skin as he settled between her legs. Supporting his weight on the flats of his forearms, he gazed down at her intently.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, dropping a soft, brief kiss on the side of her mouth. Not sexual, not as a prelude, not with any agenda. Just trying to convey the depth of his emotion. ‘I know that’s inadequate but I’msosorry that happened to you.’
He wished he had better, fancier words but he was at a loss. How didanywords make this better? And that probably cut the deepest because hecouldn’tmake it better. He could only acknowledge her pain and injury.
Right now, anyway. His brain was already seething with ways he could fuck up that asshole Harvey.
She nodded, her hazel eyes misty. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured and raised her head to kiss him. It was brief too but it wasnoton the side of the mouth and she withdrew very slowly. By the time she’d settled back against the pillows, her eyes had changed hue. There was a heat to them, a smoulder and her gaze lingered on his mouth like what she really wanted right nowwasn’twords.
‘You could, of course,’ she said, a smile hovering on her mouth, ‘take a mind picture.’
Oliver grinned, picking up what she was putting down. ‘I could definitely do that.’
Slowly, he pushed away from her, sitting back on his haunches as he tugged the duvet from her unresisting fingers. Her nightshirt was bunched around her middle, the hem sitting at the very tops of her thighs just covering her modesty.
And he knew for a fact, she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
‘I could also,’ he said, dragging his eyes off the tantalising galaxy of freckles that dappled her legs and disappeared from sight behind that hem. ‘Make a mind map. I’d need to survey you very thoroughly, though.’ His gaze travelled up her body where her nipples were two tight points tenting the fabric. ‘All those hills and valleys and curves.’
She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Is there some kind of… instrument you’d use for that?’
Oliver nodded. ‘I was thinking my tongue would work quite well.’
‘Oh, right.’ Her pupils dilated. ‘Yes. That would probably do the job.’
Oliver, his blood pounding thick and hot now as it rushedsouth, leaned in, planting one hand on the bed beside her hip and sliding the other to the hem of her shirt. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded. ‘I don’t want to think any more today.’
Her words were like a hit of cocaine to a system that was already supercharged. If it was some sexual amnesia she was after he was more than happy to provide. Clutching the hem, he slid his hand up her body, dragging her shirt with him, exposing the trimmed thatch of golden red hair between her legs, the soft rise of her belly, the indent of her navel, the flare of her hips, the cage of her ribs and lastly, the heavy fall of her breasts tipped with the tight pink ruche of her nipples.
Oliver sucked in a breath at her glory. He felt like he’d been let loose in a very adult playground with permission to ride.
‘I think…’ He cleared his throat of its thickness, his headbuzzingwith desire. ‘I should start here,’ he said, his chest settling into the cradle of her pelvis, his boner pressing into the mattress, his mouth hovering over a nipple.
‘Yeah.’ She swallowed. ‘Whatever you think.’
He leaned in and licked, her breathy moans a mantra as he worked his way south to her sweet spot. She bucked when his tongue touched down on the engorged bundle of nerves sitting proud and aching for attention. Her back arched and she cried out as he flicked his tongue hard against the sensitive bud, pushing her legs wide.
He knew she was close when her hand clutched his head, her fingers twisting in his hair, her foot sliding from his shoulder to plant firmly in the centre of his back like she was afraid he might pull away.
But Oliver had no intention of going anywhere.
14
Paige was alone when she woke the next day – very late. The clock told her it was after one in the afternoon but she was hardly surprised. Another night of marathon sex might have been healing in a way she’d have never credited but it hadn’t left a lot of time for sleep.
Rolling on her side, she stared at the doorway, a.k.a. the portal to the real world. It was tempting to stay in Oliver’s room another day. He could bring her laptop up and she could work in between bouts of mind-blowingrumpy-pumpy.
She was pretty sure he would be happy to oblige.
