He pulls me back to look into my eyes. His dart back and forth between mine. A gentle hand caresses down my cheek in one long, slow motion. “We could date each other for the next few months. If you would like that.”
I am a horrible, horrible person for even thinking, let alone saying, “I would like that very much. I would love to date you, Oliver.”
A wide smile spreads across his face until his teeth gleam at me. It’s so unfair for me to be taking this chance and depriving the women of Pittsburgh of all this handsome man has to offer. “I will date the hell out of you, Olivia.”
“I will be the best sex partner and baby making receptacle you’ve ever had,” I promise in return. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop myself either. Not when he’s all I’ve ever wanted.
He frowns at me. “I have never had a baby making receptacle before. There is no basis for comparison.”
I can’t agree to this under these circumstances. I step back, putting safe distance between us. “Ollie, if we’re going to do this, we need to lay some ground rules.”
“Of course. Okay.” He nods then tries to stuff his hands in his pockets but only succeeds in wincing when the tape and gauze on his injured hand catch in the material. He holds the offending hand with his other and glares at it. “Let me guess. Best friends forever only. No falling in love, romantically. I give you a baby and then we split custody. That is fine. I can agree to that.”
“What?” Sometimes, I swear his imagination is far more vivid than mine. “No! I mean…of course, it will be your baby, too. I would never dream of depriving you of custody. We don’t have to fall in love, and we’ll always be best friends, but…”
His shoulders slump. He gazes at the floor. “But…what? I have thought of all eventualities.”
“I would appreciate it very much if you do not make reference, comparison to, or any other factual inference about the women you’ve been with in the past.” There. I said it. And it did not sound at all jealous or catty.
His brow is pulled low and his glasses are slightly lower on his nose than usual when he glances at me. “I would also appreciate the same in regard to the men you have had sex with in the past. Many men enjoy comparing penis sizes. I am not one of them.”
I stifle a laugh. I haven’t met a man yet who compares to Ollie, which is how I got into this situation to begin with. No one is smarter, sexier, funnier, or more loyal than him.
He grins. “I do not have to compare. I know mine is bigger.”
We laugh, the joyous sound bouncing off the tile around us. I missed this over the past week. No matter how hard I—or they—try, no one makes me as happy as Ollie does in the most mundane moments of life.
As our laughter dies down, the weight of our agreement settles between us. Ollie’s eyes seem to dart everywhere and nowhere at once. I peruse the sculpted body that he’s finally willing to give me a taste of.
My breath catches when he steps so close that our chests brush together with every heartbeat.
“Do you like to be kissed?”
I glance up at him. “Yes. Yes, I do. Do you not like kissing?”
I cling to the foolish hope he’s had some sort of Pretty Woman agreement with all the women who’ve shared his bed. They’ve had all of him before. What’s so wrong with wanting to keep a tiny piece just for myself?
“I do not, no,” he breathes even as his good hand toys with a strand of my hair. He rolls it between his fingers and seems completely mesmerized by the movement. “Do you have any idea how many bacteria reside in the human mouth? It is a perfect petri dish—a moist, warm environment. However, if you enjoy it, I am also well practiced at kissing.”
A burning tickle overtakes my throat. Fresh tears spring in my eyes. I whisper, “No mention of previous women, please. I need you to remember that part. We don’t have to kiss if you don’t like it. It’s not necessary for impregnation.”
“I do not want to kiss you,” he whispers, his breath harsh and hot against my face. He slowly backs me up until I’m against the wall, his body pressing heavy against mine. He tips his head forward, his gaze intent on my mouth. “I wish to share breath with you.”
What breath? I don’t have any. He’s taken it all away. I’ve never even read poetry more romantic than his words.
His lips brush against mine. As promised his mouth is already open as he inhales deeply against my own. “Open for me, Liv.”
I can’t do anything else. He can have all the breaths I’ve ever taken. I don’t need them anymore because Oliver is kissing me, and oh God, it’s so good. My imagination could never have done this moment justice.
He tastes just the way he smells—clean, pure, with a hint of mint. His motions are slow and measured as he explores my mouth with his tongue. He laps against the roof, slides across my teeth, sucks my tongue into his own mouth.
I moan from the ecstasy of it all. I could orgasm just like this, without him even touching me where an incessant throb has taken up residence between my thighs.
He pulls back to grin at me. “I told you I am good at it.”
The pulsing between my legs dies a slow, painful death. Burning air rushes back into my deprived lungs. I gently nudge him away. “Yes, you are. We’ll have to save that for approximately ten days from now though. In the meantime, we have Halloween decorations to put up.”
He follows me out the door. “Actually, how long have you been on your period already? We might have less than ten days until you ovulate. I should fertilize you regularly for the five days prior to ensure optimal viable sperm count. I do not know when to start boning you if I do not know the exact timing of your cycle.”
I almost laugh as I turn down the hallway and walk down the stairs. “I’ve been bleeding for five days.”
“That means we should begin regular copulation in five days not ten. We may want to consider only three or four days from now just to be certain.”
I do laugh as I hit the landing on the main floor. I laugh until tears are rolling down my face.
“Too eager?” he questions, a deep furrow in his brow as he stares at me completely losing it.
“No, no. Exactly as eager as required.” I wipe my cheeks with my hands. “Thank you for being better at research and math than I am.”
He grins again. “That is what I am here for. If you could make a baby yourself, you would not need me at all.”
“Come on, baby maker.” I gesture toward the front door. “We have things to do before we can get down to business.”
I need to keep business at the front of my mind. Ollie is offering me a taste, not a lifetime. I’ll be more practice for honing his already amazing skills and nothing more. The odds of me getting pregnant in the next two months are slim to none. I don’t have to be good at math to understand that after Thanksgiving, things will never be normal again.
He glances at his smartwatch when I pick up the string of lights by the front stoop. “After we are done here, we will not have time for a date. Can we do movie night? Would that be an adequate concession until I can take you to dinner tomorrow?”
“Yes, Ollie,” I sigh, wondering where in my basement I shoved my share of the Halloween decorations. “That will be an adequate concession.”