Page 13 of Murder & Mayhem

With my weapon in hand, I shut off the shower but make no move to get out. It’s smarter if I can lure them over here rather than risk slipping on wet tiles while I try to fight off someone who is probably three times the size of me. After a moment, the silhouette moves closer, and just before they can reach the shower door, I yank it open, ready to bash them over the head with my shampoo weapon.

“What the—”

“Jesus, fuck. Oliver!” I exclaim, bringing my swinging arm to a halt before the shampoo bottle can collide with his head. “What the fuck were you thinking sneaking into a girl’s bedroom while she’s showering?!”

My heart is hammering against my chest, the shock causing adrenaline to rush through my system as I try to calm myself.

“In my defense, I didn’t know you were in the shower,” Oliver states, earning a glare. “But I was debating joining you.”

His heated gaze dips to take in my wet, very naked body, and I quickly grab a towel from the counter and wrap it around myself, scowling at him. He’s changed out of his sweats into his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt, but he looks just as hot as he did earlier. Hell, he could be wearing a garbage bag and he’d still look downright fuckable.

“No, Oliver,” I chastise, sounding like I’m telling off a naughty puppy that just peed inside the house. “We can’t.”

Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him of that or myself. He’s a determined one, though, Oliver, and as I push past him into the bedroom, he follows on my heels.

“Why not?”

“I already told you why not.”

“Because you're going undercover in the Antonellis? I backed you on that, didn’t I?”

I purse my lips, unsure how to respond to that because, well, he did kinda have my back in there with Cain. I genuinely thought he would have more to say on the matter. I hadexpectedboth of them to just outright refuse to let me do it… but Oliver didn’t. Hedidsupport me, even though I could tell he wasn’t happy about the idea.

Regardless, I ignore him as I rifle through my duffel bag for some clean underwear, unwilling to accept that maybe—justmaybe—Oliver has a point. Perhaps we could explore thisthingbetween us and still take on the Antonellis.

“Red.” My name is nothing more than an agonized, exasperated snarl as he grabs a hold of my upper arm and spins me to face him. I can see the frustration written all over his face. His arm bands around my waist, drawing me in against him. “Stop fighting this.”

“I—”

He cuts me off with a scorching kiss that I can feel all the way to my toes, but he doesn’t take it further before pulling back. “Just stop,” he says quietly, softly against my lips. I don’t try to speak again. I’m honestly not even sure what I’d say. I can’t think straight this close to him, and whatever reasons I had for not taking this further no longer seem to make any sense.

He slowly brushes his hand up my arm until his fingers stroke across my cheek. “Just feel this,” he murmurs. His fingers brush my cheek before he tucks a damp strand of hair behind my ear. Then, with a featherlight touch, he trails his fingers along my jaw and down my neck until his palm is placed firmly against my chest, right over my heart. It’s beating so hard, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he can feel it hammering against my ribcage as if it’s trying to break out of my chest and jump into his. “Do you feel it?”

There’s a flicker of doubt in his gaze that makes me feel guilty for making him think this is all one-sided, because it most definitely isn’t. Whatever he’s feeling, I feel it too, all the way down to my soul.

“I do.” My voice is barely more than a whisper, but he hears it nonetheless, his eyes sparkling at the knowledge that he’s not alone in this.

“Then stop fighting it. Just feel it; be in it with me.” It’s almost a desperate plea, and I find myself nodding in agreement, even though I’m not entirely sure what I’m agreeing to or if this is a good idea. God, he’s just so damn hard to saynoto.

His lips quirk up in a sultry grin before he fuses his lips to mine in a kiss so passionate I’m surprised I don’t melt into a puddle of goo at his feet. Any last hope I had for my common sense goes out the window as his tongue delves into my mouth, making me groan. I feel like a fucking teenager getting her first kiss. I swear, I’ve never before been kissed like this, like I’m something precious that needs to be savored. Oliver knows exactly how to toe the line between sweet and adoring, and rough and dirty, and his kiss gives me all sorts of whiplash as he flips back and forth between the two, working me up into a frenzy with just his lips and tongue.

My hands go to his belt buckle, desperate for something to relieve the ache building between my thighs, but before I can get it undone, he steps back, breaking off our kiss.

“I didn’t come in here to fuck you.” I almost laugh until I see the sincerity in his eyes. The man must be a goddamn saint, but if he thinks for one minute I’m going to let him leave here after getting me all worked up like that, then he’s got another thing coming. “This isn’t just about sex.”

“I know,” I admit softly. “I feel it too.”

Yup, it’s official, all of the endorphins he’s putting off are messing with my brain cells.Apparently, I’m just throwing my rulebook out the window. I can tell he believes me, but he still hesitates.

“Oliver,” I chuckle, a desperate ring to my voice. “I swear to god, if you don’t make me come in the next five minutes, I will make you watch while I do it myself.”

His eyes darken with lust, and the gentleman from a moment ago disappears as a savage grin lifts his lips. “I bet that would be one hell of a show, but maybe next time.”

In a flash of movement, he throws me onto the bed, whipping my towel off me before I land, leaving me stark naked on the bedspread in front of him.

“Fuck, Red. You get more beautiful every time I see you.” His voice has taken on a low, husky quality that only heightens my arousal. Before I can do something embarrassingly girly, like blush, he gets on his knees at the end of the bed, pushing my legs wide to get an unobstructed view of my undoubtedly wet pussy. He stares at it with such heady desire that it leaves me breathless before licking his lips. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve dreamed of tasting you.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, then?” My voice is raw, coated in sexual desire, drawing his eyes to my face as he leans forward and licks a line up the length of me.

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