CHAPTER 2

OLIVIA

“Good morning.” Ryan’s eyes widened the second I stepped into the dining room. I got a text from him this morning asking me to come down for breakfast.

I wanted to do something crazy during breakfast too.

He was seated at the head of the long, dark table, holding a mug, probably coffee but the way his fingers froze around the handle told me I had his full attention now.

His eyes dropped to my legs, slowly dragging up.

I didn’t stop walking.

I let my hips sway just a little more as I stepped down the last few stairs and padded barefoot across the marble floor.

“Say something,” I blurted out in frustration because his silence was killing me.

He looked away. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Just a shirt.” I replied and smirked. At least he noticed that.

“It’s my shirt.” Ryan glared at me but looked away the moment I winked at him.

“Then maybe you should be careful next time. You gave me your bag yesterday. And I figured I couldn't get mine back since you warned me to stay away from your room.”

“That was a mistake and you’re not wearing anything under it.” His jaw locked and he looked at my laps again as I sat down making the shirt go up a little.

“Exactly.” I stood up to dish out some veggies for myself. “You noticed. I figured it wouldn't be a problem since I had nothing to wear and you already saw me naked yesterday.”

It was so embarrassing to think about but I didn't miss the way his jaw clenched, reminding me of his expression yesterday.

After putting the veggies on my plate, I wanted to spice things up so I stood up and started walking towards him.

He set the mug down like it might shatter in his hand. “Olivia, don’t start.”

“Start what?” I stopped a few steps from his chair. “A conversation? A war? A lap dance?”

He gave me that look again. That hard, clenched look that told me he was trying not to react. Which only made me want to push more.

“You’re not funny.” He almost choked on his own saliva as his face met mine and I was looking down at his already erected member.

“I’m not trying to be.” I tilted my head, dragging my gaze over his tensed jaw, the tight lines on his neck, the way he gripped the edge of the table like he was hanging on for balance. “Why are you acting like I’m some kind of threat?”

“Because you are.” He replied, letting out a cuss word.

I blinked a few times then smiled. “Good.”

He remained quiet.

So I walked slowly behind his chair and ran my fingers lightly over the backrest. “I don’t get it. Last night, you didn't bother if I was comfortable in my room. You only said goodnight and you didn't come to check up on me. My dad checks up on me, you know, right?”

“I don't owe you anything.” Ryan drawled out while forcing some bread down his throat.

“You owe me honesty,” I said, circling the table again until I was in front of him. “And maybe a little credit for not sneaking into your room while you were sleeping.”

“Don’t joke like that.” His eyes shot up to look at me and his face hardened.

“Why not? You’re clearly imagining worse.”

“Jesus, Olivia,” he muttered and stood up abruptly, taking a step back from the table like he needed space to breathe.

I followed him with my eyes. “You think I’m just messing with you?”

He didn’t answer. I swear I'd punch this man if he keeps ignoring longer than expected.

“You think I wear your shirt and walk into your dining room like this because I’m bored?”

He ran a hand down his face. “You’re doing it on purpose.”

“Of course I am.”

His head turned slightly. “Why?”

I stepped closer again, letting my arm graze his. “Because I like how it makes you look at me.”

“Stop playing games.” Ryan turned away immediately.

“I’m not playing,” I said softly. “I’m showing you what’s already there.”

He faced me again. “What’s already there is a line we shouldn’t cross.”

I met his eyes. “You already crossed it the moment you let me stay here.”

“That’s not the same.” I want him to give in. Why isn't he?

“It is for me,” I whispered.

We kept looking at each other in silence. We were just inches apart now.

His gaze flicked to my lips. Only for a second, but I caught it.

“You want to touch me,” I muttered while he kept fighting with his little demon.

His eyes darkened.

“But you won’t,” I added.

“No.” He replied abruptly.

“Because of my dad?” I asked and of course that could be the only reason.

“Because of everything.”

I tilted my head. “So you’re going to act like you’re not thinking about it? About me? Right now?”

He didn’t answer.

I leaned in and lowered my voice. “You want me to change clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Then say please.”

He stared at me like I was insane. Or maybe dangerous. Or both.

“Please,” he muttered and I could swear, he was begging.

“Wow,” I whispered. “That almost sounded real.”

This man reeks of danger but I want him. I want his danger.

“Go change.”

I smiled and stepped back. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”

He didn’t reply. Just picked up his mug again, even though I knew his coffee was cold now.

I walked away slowly, letting him get one last look if he dared.

Halfway up the stairs, I paused and glanced over my shoulder. “You know what’s funny?” I called out, loud enough to reach the dining room.

He didn’t answer, but I saw the way his fingers tightened around the mug.

“I dreamt about you too.”

I didn’t wait for his reaction.

I went upstairs, heart pounding, lips curved in a wicked smile.

If he thought last night was hard...

He had no idea what I was about to put him through.

I didn’t change into jeans.

I changed into him.

A black lace dress, short enough to remind him of my legs, tight enough to remind him of last night. No bra. No panties.

He was still in the dining room.

He didn’t hear me at first. But when he looked up, he froze.

His eyes dragged over me like he was starving.

I didn’t say a word. I pulled out the nearest chair and sat, crossing my legs slow and high.

He didn’t speak either.

Not at first.

His jaw clenched. His mug stayed in his hand, but I could tell it was empty now. And it didn’t matter. He wasn’t thirsty for coffee anymore.

He was thirsty for something else.

Me.

He dropped the mug on the table with a loud thud.

Then he stood up and was about to leave the dining room when I immediately ran up to him.

“Where are you going? You're not done eating.” I asked but he just sighed.

“You wouldn't let me eat,”he answered and while we were still staring at each other, I pushed him slightly and made him sit on a chair.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked. His eyes didn't blink and he stared daggers at me.

I turned my head, lips brushing his cheek. “Having breakfast.”

And then I grabbed his face down to mine and kissed him hard. His eyes widened in shock but I didn't stop

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. My lips moved over his, desperate and needy.

He didn’t kiss me back. His hands stayed at his sides and he tried to stand up straight but I didn't allow him.

He wants to pull away.

Still, I kissed him. Again.

I clutched the back of his neck, kissed and kissed him even harder.

“Ryan…” I whispered against his lips.

His eyes widened.

Then he pushed me away.

Not rough, but firm.

“Don’t do that again,” he said quietly, staring at me like I’d just crossed a line.

He didn’t look at me.

He just turned away, breathing hard and running his hands through his hair.

“Get over yourself.” He shouted and I blinked.

“What?” I whispered, totally confused at what he meant.

He turned to face me, his eyes full of something I couldn’t name. Anger. Shame. Heat. All of it. “You think this means anything?”

“Why can't you accept this?” My voice came out raspy.

“Stop!” He said, raising his hands up.

He pointed toward the stairs. “Whatever fantasy you have in your head, get rid of it. There will never be a thing between us!”

My chest burned.

“Ryan—”

“Go upstairs,” he said. “And next time, wear something decent!”