Hitched: Volume Two Page 29


“Peter, I appreciate your passion on the topic.” Olivia’s voice is sure and steady, much calmer than I would have been in her place. “But since Noah and I took over as co-CEOs, this company’s performance has steadily improved.”

Peter shifts in his chair with a noise that sounds too much like a scoff for my liking.

I frown at him. Hey, fuck you too, buddy.

I don’t know why it’s just now occurring to me, but the prejudices Olivia has faced to take over her corner office and head of the conference table have surely been daunting. She’s young, she’s a woman, and she’s the former boss’s daughter—all things that small-minded men like Peter take to assume that she’s not qualified for her new role.

I want to throw in my own two cents about his behavior, but I don’t. Olivia can handle herself, and I won’t imply otherwise by jumping to her rescue, especially not in front of all these company officers. She doesn’t need a man to save her, and it’s a quality I admire so much about her.

Without missing a beat, Olivia finishes shutting down Peter as if she hadn’t heard his scoff. “If you’d like to discuss my plan further, you can join me in my office later and I’ll be happy to walk you through it . . . using small words, if it helps. However, I won’t let you derail this meeting any further. Now, does anyone have any more business, or are we adjourned?”

Peter’s mouth drops open. But he soon closes it again, defeated, and I suppress a grin.

When nobody else says a word, Olivia rises to her feet. “Thank you all for your time this morning, and please have your department summaries to me by the end of the day.”

Everyone scatters until only Olivia and I are standing in the conference room. “Are you okay?” I ask.

She inhales a deep sigh. “Of course.”

Even if she wasn’t okay, it’s in her DNA to put on a brave face and carry on. It makes me proud to know her, to work with her, and to be the man who gets to go home with her.

“Peter’s a cocksucker. Come on, let’s go get a tea.”

She smiles for the first time since the meeting began. “Sounds great.”

I lead Olivia to my office, where my secretary was thoughtful enough to get me an electric kettle. A small glass-topped cart holds bottled water, a collection of different English bagged teas, and a couple of mugs.

When the water heats up, I pour Olivia a cup and hand it to her. She looks at me hesitantly.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you mind if we close the door?”

“Not at all.” I walk across the office and shut the door, wondering what the privacy is for.

She sips her tea while I prepare my own cup, then sit down in the armchair next to hers. The late morning sunshine makes everything feel cheery, but I suspect there’s something on her mind. She twists the simple diamond and platinum wedding band on her finger.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Snowflake,” I prompt her. Something serious is clearly brewing in there, and I suspect it has to do with last night.

We fucked like rabbits and slept naked in each other’s arms. Then this morning, we got ready for work and ate breakfast as usual, like none of it ever happened. I have no idea what’s going through her head, if she regrets it or what.

My dick definitely wants a repeat performance. Already I’ve started fantasizing about spending all weekend fucking her brains out. Hey, a man can hope, right? But I don’t know how she feels about our first time. And to be honest . . . I’m not totally sure how I feel either.

Part of me hoped the sex would be mediocre. That Olivia’s cool, collected demeanor would spill over into the bedroom, and she’d be a lifeless lay. Oh, how wrong I was. She was responsive and oh-so-eager for me, matching me thrust for thrust, whimpering sexy mewling cries each time I hit deep inside her.

And when she came? She didn’t hold back, like some women do, afraid to be too loud, making sex into something shameful. No, Olivia celebrated it. Crying out with her orgasm, panting my name, clawing my back. I followed her over the edge . . . and now I’m afraid I’d follow her anywhere.

Last night was almost too perfect. Better than any woman I’ve ever been with. And a deep, dark part of me already knows the reason why. She’s special; there’s something between us that I’ve never had before. Even though I’ve always wanted Olivia, always felt strongly about her, it’s jarring to admit just how much she means to me. How hard she makes my heart pound, how far I will go for her . . .

Apparently not enough to man up and tell her about the contract. My stomach tightens.

Olivia sets her mug on the glass table in front of us and crosses her legs. She’s in a sexy figure-hugging white dress with a tailored black blazer over the top. A chunky turquoise necklace is the only bright pop of color in her outfit, but it’s exactly enough. The woman knows how to present herself. Remembering my thoughts from the meeting earlier, I wonder how much time she spends every morning, finding the perfect balance between feeling feminine and being taken seriously as a professional.

“I, um . . .” She pauses, looking down at her red-lacquered fingernails.

“Tell me.” I lean closer.

“Last night was . . .” She trails off again, wringing her hands in her lap. “It was like a bucket list thing. Something to check off my list—no-strings sex with Noah Tate. I thought it’d be fun, and I psyched myself up to just do it.”

“And now that we’ve done it?” My heart starts to pound.

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