Chapter 51
Olivia
I get in my car and let out a long relaxing breath. It’s over. We all made it through in one piece without any physical altercations. I can't ask for more than that. At least not yet. Dinner went better than any of us anticipated. Certainly better than I had.
I start my car and blast the music. I want to drown out thoughts of my day. They can wait; they certainly aren't going to slip from my memory, no matter how much I’d like them too.
While dinner went well, I’m glad it’s over. Relieved. I just want to get home and snuggle up next to Lucas. He promises he'll be right behind me.
How strange these last few days have been. I’ve never been brought home to meet anyone's parents. It wasn't in the cards with Nate. And that’s fine. It’s better having so many new experiences with Lucas. Even if the stress level is magnified tenfold from the norm. I just wish Christmas as a whole went better.
Dominique hates me. Maybe if I’m the last woman on earth and promise to save the human race she’ll have a use for me, but definitely not as her daughter-in-law.
And after Christmas dinner with my parents, I’ve lost hope of having holiday meals as one big happy family. But now after this uncomfortable and strange dinner with Lucas's father, I see a light at the end of a very dark and twisted tunnel.
If Dr. Stillwell comes through for Lucas, and I have no doubt he will, it can change the whole hue of their relationship and help brighten the family prospects all around. As long as Stacy stays away.
Hearing about her is one thing; if my parents are forced to meet her, I believe they'll lock and chain me in my old room.
The quaint Metuchen restaurant is only minutes from my apartment. I knew it would be a perfect choice for dinner. Somewhat private, it offers an atmosphere conducive to talking as well as eating. It serves form as well as function. And it’s on our turf, not Dr. Stillwell's.
That was important to me because I wanted Lucas as comfortable as possible. Plus it’s close to home. Which means a quick and mindless drive at the end of the night. After this day, that’s a necessity for us both.
I park in the spot allotted for me and go straight to the unit mailbox for my daily fill of junk mail. I glance up as Lucas's car enters into view. Holding the small pile of letters in my hand, I head to my apartment door as he parks.
I don't bother to shuffle through the letters as I stand outside waiting for him. There'll be time for that. Right now I’m much more interested in how he’s holding up.
I feel Lucas's arms wrap around my waist as I turn the key in the lock. I didn't know what to expect from him when we got home, but this is a pleasant surprise. At least he isn't in a crabby, vile mood.
"You seem happy."
"Please," he sniggers, "I thought tonight would never end."
"Was it that bad for you?" I smile as I push the door open and take a step inside. "I thought you handled yourself great!"
He shrugs. "I just kept focusing on getting you alone. I know you'll make all the grief and aggravation worth my while."
"Oh, really?"
"You better believe it." He reaches for the mail in my hand, and tosses it on the couch as he backs me up into the small, but cozy living room.
"Finally you're mine. Do you know how hard it was to sit and eat dinner, when all I kept thinking about was taking you into the ladies room and fucking you?"
I giggle, happy to see a playful light shine bright in his eyes.
"I'm glad you didn't try. I would've said ‘No.’ Someone might have heard, and it would've been embarrassing for both of us."
"Speak for yourself. I'd be proud to get caught in the bathroom with you." He leans, pressing his body against mine, heating me up. "I would've made you forget where we were."
"Doubt it," I challenge, knowing full well he’s probably right.
"Oh, yeah?" he reaches his hands under my dress. I hear as well as feel the tear of my panties as he pulls them off me and tosses them aside. "I hope you aren't attached to those."
I shake my head with every nerve cell in my body on high alert, waiting for his next touch, the next brush of his skin against my own.
"Once I got you against the wall and lifted you up so I could get inside you, you wouldn't be thinking about where we were or who’d walk in." His hands are lost under my hair, pulling my head toward his mouth. "You'd only be thinking about how good I feel and how many times I'd make you come," he whispers.
I moan as his mouth meets mine. Until he pulls away with a crooked smile on his lips, leaving me wanting more. So much more.
"And if we did get caught, you would've liked it." His warm breath tickles my ear. "It would've turned you on. Made you drip. Having someone stand there, watching us. Watching you. Touching herself as she wished she could be you."
I don't want to wait another second. I want him inside me. I close my eyes and throw my head back. Ready. Waiting.
I want him to touch me there but his hands and mouth focus on my neck and shoulders. I know he wants me. I can feel that much. If he isn't going to press the issue, I will. I reach my hands down to his waistband and unbutton his pants before he seizes my hands.
"Not so fast. You want me?"
I nod.
"Tell me."
"I want you."
"I'm not convinced."
Blood swooshes through my body with every pulse of my heart. My cheeks color with the pink tinge of heat he causes to surge through me. I run my hands under his shirt, over the hard boxed muscles of his stomach and up his chest lifting the shirt off him.
Lucas closes his eyes. Something’s off. I wonder if it’s just because he’s feeling the same type of delightful torment I am. The feelings he stirs in me; insecurity mixed with unabashed longings are as exhilarating as they are terrifying.
Something’s different about him, something I can't quite put my finger on, and that makes me nervous. Like he’s on the verge of losing control, or stealing it back. I’m not sure which.
"I want you, Lucas."
"Yeah?" He stares at me through heavy lidded eyes. "What do you want me to do?"
I swallow hard, not sure I like this game. "I want you to fuck me."
"I'm still not convinced." He holds my chin so I can't drop my head or turn away, then clasps my bottom lip between his teeth. "Show me," he whispers. "Show me where you want to feel me."
I close my eyes. I don't have any issues initiating sex with him, but this is different. I’m too embarrassed to touch myself. At least not with him watching.
"C'mon Olivia," his voice is swathed in seduction. "Don't be shy. You're going to be my wife and I want to make sure I satisfy you, even if I have to do it over and over again. I'm just asking you to show me how."
He turns me around and lifts my dress off me. His hands cup my breasts as he leans his body against mine, pressing me against the wall. I’m relieved. He moved on. He’s not going to press the issue, thank God.
"I love you,” he says taking one of my hands and placing it on my breast. Oh shit. “I just want to watch you touch yourself like I do,” he whispers, sex dripping off his words. He takes my other hand and rests it between my legs. “Show me how to please you. Show me where you want me. Show me how to make you cum so that your body explodes with pleasure."