Page 15

CHAPTER 15

SHEA

What if he doesn’t like it?

I know I’m being silly. Paranoid, even.

When I first came up with the idea, it sounded great. It would be something I could do to show Oliver just how important he is to me. Not because I think I owe him for all the wonderful things he’s done—the romantic dates and flowers and how he gamely let me basically redecorate his entire house—but because I want him to feel special. Appreciated.

If circumstances were normal, there would be lots of options. We could do something outdoorsy, which Oliver loves, like hiking in the Catskills or picnicking in Rockefeller Park. We could go into Manhattan to visit the Natural History Museum, one of his favorite places to visit ever since he was a kid. Or we could head up north to the Adirondacks to see some of the old Revolutionary War battle sites, something Oliver’s been talking about doing for years.

If things were normal, that is.

But they aren’t, so I had to get a bit more creative.

Fortunately, thanks to the magic of the internet, I can get pretty much anything I want sent right here. Including everything I need for this surprise date.

And no, I didn’t answer the door when the deliveries came. I have a feeling I won’t be doing that for a while. When the distinctive delivery truck stopped by yesterday, I was working remotely from Blade and Arrow, so I asked Nora if she’d mind grabbing the packages for me.

And of course, lovely Nora didn’t mind, especially when I explained my plan. She just smiled and said, “I think it sounds like a fantastic idea, Shea. I’m sure Oliver will love it.”

So really, there’s no reason to be nervous.

Except. Now that I’m rushing around to get everything arranged before Oliver gets out of the shower, I’m suddenly second guessing myself. Now I’m wondering if I should have stuck with something more traditional, like a romantic dinner ordered from his favorite restaurant, finished off with champagne and strawberries and a full-body massage with that special oil.

That sounds pretty nice, actually. And I’ll definitely have to plan that next, complete with the new dress I just ordered with the back that dips so low I wouldn’t dare wear it out in public. And maybe some of that honey-flavored edible dust I spotted when I was reordering the massage oil, complete with a little feather duster. I can imagine dusting it all over Oliver’s body, watching his muscles tense as I brush the feathers across them, hearing that sexy growl he makes that drives me absolutely wild…

“Shea, I was thinking about pizza tonight.” Oliver’s voice drifts down the hall and into the living room. “How does that sound?” His voice pitches up hopefully. “And maybe we could watch that new docuseries about the Cold War?”

Crap. How did I not notice the shower was off?

Because I’ve been distracted by trying to get everything set up in the twenty minutes it takes Oliver to clean up after work, and also making myself a little crazy second guessing myself. That’s why.

Picking up my pace, I race around the living room, making final adjustments. Then I dart into the kitchen to double check that all the ingredients for our special dinner are prepped and ready.

Just as I dash back into the living room, I hear Oliver’s concerned voice say, “Shea? If you want to do something else, that’s fine. I don’t have to watch the docuseries. It’s okay.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I call back. “The docuseries sounds great.”

Well. Maybe not great. But after all the horror movies Oliver’s watched with me without complaint, watching a dull series about the Cold War is only fair. Just not tonight.

“Are you sure?” His voice moves closer. “Because it was just an idea. I know you don’t like that kind of thing. But I thought I could give you a back rub while we watch, to make it more?—”

He walks into the living room and comes to an abrupt stop just inside the doorway. His eyes widen. “Shea?”

Steeling myself against my ridiculous nerves, I spread my arms and say brightly, “Surprise!”

Wide-eyed, he looks around the room, taking everything in. “Shea,” he repeats. “Is this what I think it is?”

I give him an overly bright smile. “Well. If you think it’s my attempt to create a mini golf course at home, then yes. It is.”

Does it look like the old course we used to visit in McLean? No. Not even close. Over the River Mini Golf had elaborate obstacles and decor, complete with a little forest to putt through, a Big Bad Wolf replica that would eat your ball and make you start all over, and at the end, a miniature White House for the final shot. It was considered the hardest mini golf course in the entire DC area, and people would drive for hours just to visit it.

But I tried. I found a set of silicone putting holes and set them up around the room and created my own little obstacles to go along with them. By the first hole, I have a piece of thick astroturf to use as the rough. At the third, I made a little maze out of cardboard blocks. And at the end, the pièce de résistance, a large stuffed wolf overseeing the final hole.

Oliver starts to walk around the living room, slowing beside each hole to inspect it. As he gets to the seventh hole, set deep within a forest of small Christmas trees, he turns to look at me. His voice is disbelieving. “ Shea . It’s just like the seventh hole at Over the River.”

“I know.” Crossing the room to meet him, I loop my arm around his waist. “I thought… well. It might be fun to have our own mini golf course right here.”

“How did you ever think of this?”

Meeting his gaze, I reply, “I know how much you— we —loved going mini golfing. Maybe we can’t go out to one, but I thought maybe I could make one. It’s not the same, of course. Maybe it’s a little silly?—”

“Shea.” It’s rough with emotion. His arms come around me, hugging me tightly against his chest. “This isn’t silly at all. It’s wonderful.” Casting another look around the room, he asks, “How did you get all this set up so quickly? I wasn’t in the shower that long.”

“Well, I planned a lot of it in advance. Sketched out where everything was going to go, got everything unpackaged and stashed in the basement, fluffed the little trees… so it was just a matter of laying it all out.”

“This is just—” Oliver brushes a soft kiss across my lips. “Amazing. I would never have expected it.”

Stepping out of the hug, I take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. “I have a special dinner, too, kind of inspired by the same thing. You know how whenever we’d go mini-golfing, we’d always hit up the food trucks after? And your favorite truck was?—”

“The Cheesy Chef.” He grins. “Those were the best grilled cheeses I’ve ever had.” A dreamy expression moves across his face. “The Mushroom Madness was so good. And the Buffalo n’ Blue. I think that one was my favorite.”

“I don’t think mine will be quite as good,” I say as I pull the refrigerator door open. Gesturing at the stacks of ingredients inside—including three different kinds of meats, five different cheeses, and a carton of portobello mushrooms—I add, “But I got everything to make them. So I thought after golf, we could have a grilled cheese fest. Then we could watch that docuseries, if you want…”

Oliver stares at me, an inscrutable look in his eyes. My heart skitters nervously again.

A moment later, his mouth crashes down on mine.

One hand comes to my nape, tunneling through my hair and tipping my head back to take the kiss even deeper.

The other hand moves to the small of my back, his fingers grazing the swell of my ass.

Unlike most of our kisses that start out soft and slow, this one is pure hunger and need.

His arousal juts into my belly, hard and insistent.

Our tongues move together, dancing and exploring.

I twine my arms around Oliver’s neck, desperate to get even closer.

Heat builds in my core.

My womb clenches.

Should we skip the whole golf course idea and head straight to the bedroom?

But then— darn it —Oliver pulls away. And my lady parts shriek with dismay.

While I try to catch my breath, he gazes at me, his eyes almost black with desire. “Shea. This is the best surprise… I can’t even…”

“I just wanted to do something special for you. Most of the things I’d choose we can’t do right now, but we had such great memories doing this, and?—”

“I love it.” He frames my face and kisses me again, this time a tender caress. “Those dates we used to go on, they’re some of my favorite memories. So this is perfect. Now we can make new memories together.”

“Well.” I eyeball the very obvious bulge in his pants. “We could take care of that first. And then play golf.”

Interest lights his gaze. The bulge twitches. “Are you sure? After you set all this up?”

I let my hand wander below his waist. With a little smirk, I ask, “It’s not going anywhere, is it? And then we’ll have really worked up an appetite for grilled cheese.”

“Ah. In that case…” In one fluid move, Oliver sweeps me into his arms, one arm behind my back and the other my legs. “Bedroom first, then.” As he strides out of the kitchen, he adds, “And after, I’ll beat you in mini-golf.”

“Wait a second. Who said anything about you winning?”

Halfway down the hallway, he pauses to look down at me. His mouth quirks. “Are you saying you’re going to win? Have you forgotten about the time I made it through the Haunted Forest in one stroke?”

“That was luck,” I huff, while trying to hide my smile. “I think you’ve forgotten about my hole-in-one at the Wicked Witch’s cabin. I seem to recall the guy who worked there saying he’d never seen it happen before.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see whose skills are better.” As we enter the bedroom, he asks, “Maybe a wager? Whoever wins gets a massage with the special oil?”

Well. That’s a win for both of us. “You’re on.”

“Although,” he adds thoughtfully, “I’m not sure which is the better prize.” As he lays me down on the bed, he continues, “Would I rather rub oil all over your body and kiss it off? Or feel your hands all over me? They both sound pretty great.”

“I think you’re just saying that because you think you’re going to lose,” I tease.

“Oh, I’m definitely not going to lose.” Oliver flashes me a cocky grin. “Not unless I do it on purpose.”

“Hmm.” I sit up and start pulling my shirt off. “Maybe we should make the stakes even higher.”

“Like what?”

“Maybe…” Pausing, I toss my shirt aside and unfasten my bra. “Naked mini-golf? That’s something we couldn’t do at a regular course.”

Midway through unbuttoning his shorts, Oliver freezes at the sight of my bare breasts. Which is hilarious, he’s seen them hundreds—possibly thousands—of times, but he can’t seem to help staring at them every time.

Then again, do I want him to be blasé about it?

No. Definitely not.

So to add a little something extra, I lazily stroke my nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. I watch Oliver’s eyes while I do it, enjoying the flare of heat in his gaze.

“Shea,” he says roughly.

“Yes?” With my other hand, I reach under my skirt—a short, flowy one that I bought specifically for Oliver to enjoy—and trail my fingers across the dampening lace beneath.

His gaze still glued to me, he practically rips off his clothes and flings them across the room. Then he stalks towards the bed like a panther intent on capturing his prey. His features are all hard lines and angles, the tendons in his neck pulled tight. The blue of his eyes is so dark it’s nearly black. The intensity in them sets my body on fire.

As he climbs—no, more like prowls—onto the bed, he holds my gaze. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I sit back and spread my legs enough for him to see my fingers working between them. “Just getting ready,” I reply with a little smile. “Is that okay?”

“Shit, Shea. Do you know how sexy that is? Watching you pleasure yourself?”

My core throbs as arousal builds. “You know what’s even sexier?”

Bracing himself over me, he nips my neck before asking, “What?”

“Watching you make love to me.”

Oliver kisses my neck again, this time working his way down to my collarbone. “You’re right. Looking at you while we make love is the sexiest thing.”

“Then…” My legs fall apart even further. “What are you waiting for?”

In a solemn tone, he answers, “Silly me. Looking at my gorgeous girlfriend while she touches herself. I should have just leapt on you right away, shouldn’t I?”

“Well.” I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his velvety skin, hot and slick with excitement. With a teasing smile, I add, “I suppose I can’t complain, since you did call me gorgeous. But you should probably do something about it now.”

Oliver moves between my legs and eyes my skirt. He fingers the fabric for a second before lifting the skirt higher up my thighs. “I like this skirt, Shea. It’s very…”

“Flowy?”

“Yes. But also sexy. Because I don’t even have to take it off.” With one hand, he somehow manages to pull my lace bikinis off, which I’m not sure I could do myself.

“Isn’t that convenient?” I stroke him, making that little circular move he loves, relishing at the feel of him growing thicker and harder in my hand. “You know, I bought this skirt just for you. Because I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I do.” Lowering his head, Oliver captures my mouth with his. Then he gently removes my hand from him and presses it to the mattress. Breaking the kiss, he looks at me with a depth of emotion in his gaze. “I love everything about you, Shea. It doesn’t matter what you wear. But that you got it just for me? I love that.”

Oh.

It’s so close to the words I’ve been spinning around in my head for weeks. The words I know in my heart, but am still hesitant to speak.

Oliver lifts my legs and drapes them over his shoulders, spreading me wide open. Then he notches himself between them, his hard length nudging at me. His fingers swipe between my thighs, caressing my sensitized skin.

My inner walls flutter and my core clenches, desperate to feel him inside me.

As he rubs my exposed and swollen bud, my hips jerk towards him. My lungs strain for air. On an exhale, I breathe, “Oll. I need you. Now. Please.”

“Shea.” He presses into me slowly. “I need you more than anything .”

Once he’s deep inside me, he stills. His gaze searches mine. “This is the most perfect thing. Being with you. Feeling you wrapped around me.”

“I know.” Unexpectedly, tears threaten. My nose prickles.

The words are right there .

Then Oliver starts moving again, pulling out and then plunging deeper than before.

Coherent thought pauses.

He hits that magical spot and my mind splinters.

His hands are everywhere. My ass. My breasts. That tiny bundle of nerves. The sensitive spot just below my belly button that always makes my stomach quiver.

Above me, Oliver looks like some kind of Greek god, his muscles damp and glowy, his hair all dark and tousled, and his features like the most perfectly carved stone.

And then.

He sinks deep once more.

His mouth lowers to mine, capturing my moan.

He hits that spot inside me again.

All my muscles convulse around him. Explosions of color flash before my eyes.

It’s beyond ecstasy.

And it’s only with him.

Only seconds later, Oliver goes impossibly hard, filling me with incredible heat.

He lets out a guttural groan, his eyes closing for a moment.

He’s so beautiful.

This is so beautiful.

Not just the sex, but having him back.

Once Oliver rolls over and pulls me on top of him, he looks at my face and his brow pulls into a worried V. He touches my cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

“What? No. Why?”

“Because you’re crying.”

“What? I am?” Brushing at my cheek, I’m surprised to find dampness there. “No. You didn’t hurt me. The exact opposite. That was wonderful.”

Confusion creases his forehead. “Then why?—”

“It was just… I was thinking… How happy I am to have you back.”

“Oh, Shea.” His voice gentles. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you back, too.”

My heart thuds hard. “Oll?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” As his eyes widen, I hurry to continue. “I never stopped. Never. And now… I didn’t know it was possible to love you even more, but I do. I know it’s still early, and it’s okay if you don’t feel?—”

“I do.” His eyes burn into mine, all his emotions right there, on full display. “I never stopped loving you, either, Shea. And now… I know what you mean. It’s even more intense. Even stronger.”

Through a tight throat, I whisper, “Oliver. I love you so much.”

His lips press to my forehead. “I love you, too.”