Page 38 of Love on the Vine
When she opened her leg over mine, I slipped a hand under her ass and lifted her onto my lap, settling her on top of the straining bulge of my pants. With her skirt bunched around her hips, those lacy panties peeked out, the miniscule triangle of fabric damp and clinging to her. I groaned, forcing myself not to rip it off her.
“Jake,” she panted, rolling her hips against me. I hissed and stilled her, digging my thumbs into her hips before I came right there.
I nipped at her collarbone, dipping my tongue into the hollow of her throat, tasting the metallic tang of her gold necklace, then pressed my lips against the creamy rise of flesh above her neckline. I couldn’t stop. I was going to fucking devour her on the table.
A wild hissing behind us jerked me back to reality just as the goddamn cat hurled himself onto the table, sending a ceramic bowl and one of the candles into the rosemary bush. With lightning-fast reflexes, I removed Olivia from my lap, sprangto my feet, and threw the pitcher of water at the smoldering branches.
“Damn cat!” I cried after him, and that snaggle-toothed son of a bitch glowered at me from the lawn. I surveyed the charred plants and the broken bowl, my body aching and still hard as a rock.
The sound of stifled laughter behind me made me turn around. Olivia was slumped down in her chair, with her hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking. “I was afraid you were going to throw wine in the fire and set the whole garden ablaze.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
My eyes ran over her. The strap of her dress had slipped down one slender arm, exposing the top of one luscious breast, and her hair fell in disheveled waves over her shoulder. It hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water what I’d been on the verge of doing to her.
I forced my attention back to the burned rosemary bush. I had to, or I’d go back to the table, yank her from the chair, and continue what I’d started.
“That cat is a menace. I forbid you to feed him any longer,” I said as I bent over and picked up shards of broken pottery.
“It wasn’t his fault. I shouldn’t have put the candle so close to highly flammable plants.”
“I don’t know. Did you see the look he gave me? He did it on purpose.” I placed the pieces of the bowl back on the table. As the shock wore off, we both grew quiet, and the chorus of cicadas grew louder.
Great. Now what?
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her staring at me expectantly.
“Listen, Olivia,” I shoved my fingers through my hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She glanced away and tried to smile. “You don’t have to apologize. It was the wine, the stars. We got carried away.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck, hoping it would alleviate some of the tension in my dick. “The thing is, it would be inappropriate for so many reasons—our age difference, the fact that you’re sort of working for me. Christ, your dad.”
“You don’t need to list all the reasons why nothing could ever happen between us. I’ve already gone over them in my head a dozen times.” She stood and started to clear away the glasses. I felt like a real shit for having given in to my attraction to her. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings.
“Olivia . . .” I held my hands palms up, but she was already waving me off.
“It’s fine. Really.” But in my gut, I knew it wasn’t true.
“I should get to bed,” she said when she returned from the kitchen. “What time should I be ready to go tomorrow?”
Fuck. I’d forgotten we were leaving for Beaune in the morning. “We’ll leave at nine.”
“Okay. Good night.” She disappeared into the dark garden, and I didn’t move until I heard her door shut. Only then did I close my eyes and slump against the table.
What an unbelievable fucking mess.
How was I going to make it through the week without touching her?
Chapter 12
OLIVIA
Call me!I texted Callie as soon as I got back to my room, praying that she had good reception on the train.
Between the slight wine buzz and that knee-weakening kiss, I couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. Jake may have wanted to pretend it was a mistake, but it’s not like he slipped and landed with his tongue in my mouth.
Just thinking about it made me sweat. I was still hot and throbbing from grinding against him. My God, had I really just dry humped him?
I drew the curtains and paced, glancing at my telephone every few seconds. Finally, it began to vibrate, and I grabbed it, flopping down on the bed.
