He turned to face me but continued to walk backward. “We have five minutes left. I don’t have time to admire you. Now, hurry up, I haven’t got all day.”
I leaned forward as a laugh escaped before jogging up behind him.
Ollie had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt by the time we reached a field behind a layer of woods. In a swift motion, he picked me up and laid me over the grassy bed of flowers, and pushed up my dress and my thighs apart. Hooking my panties, Ollie yanked them to the side, and his flattened hot tongue dragged through my soaked sex as a moan escaped the both of us. “I’m going to come from this alone,” he whispered, then pushed two fingers inside me and curled. Over and over, his tongue stroked my clit. My hips bucked against his mouth, and I fisted flowers around me, pulling at their roots from the sensations threatening to erupt.
Ollie pulled his hand away to release his stretched cock, fisting it between us while lapping his tongue over my entrance. My head jerked back, and I raised my hips, aching for our connection. He growled and lifted onto his palms over me. “Tonight, you’re mine. Tonight, we’re taking our fucking time, and I’m doing what I want, Mia,” he said, all in one breath. Nodding, I yanked his shirt down until our mouths crashed, and after one hard thrust, Ollie fell onto his elbow. “Jesus Christ, Mia,” he slowly pulled out before slamming back in, his trembling lips hovering mine, “You feel so fucking good.”
“Stop talking, Ollie,” I cried through another mind-altering thrust.
“Not into the dirty talk, either?” He smiled against my lips, his hips rolling torturously, grinding to the wild tune we created. A moan came up from my throat as he ground into me again, and I tried to shake my head.
Ollie’s fingers dragged down my thigh and gripped my ass as he took me deeper while his other hand caressed my forehead with his thumb. I tasted myself on his lips as our tongues collided, and his mouth moved from mine, down my jawline, to my ear. His breath hit, and my core clenched around him.
“I feel you, Mia,” he whispered as I met his every grind.
Ollie sat up, eyes heavy and gaze licking over my body down to where we were connected. His fingers dug into my thighs, spreading me wider, and his other hand kneaded my clit. The buzzing white-hot flame lighted and drained the orgasm from me, and my sex contracted against his desperate beat. Legs shaking, I watched his green eyes adore me as I drifted inside a rapture, my lids flickering from the heavy intensity. Soon, Ollie let go, chasing the wondrous feeling.
With my body sedated and knees relaxed and parted, Ollie took his sweet time, kissing the insides of my thighs, my core, my sensitive clit, and licking my wounds as the field of wildflowers surrounding us danced with the brisk wind. I jerked against his warm tongue as he built me up into another climax. He was relentless and utterly shameless in his addiction, and his lips moved delicately against me, painting an illusion we had all the time in the world. Because with Ollie, time didn’t exist, and nothing else mattered.
Mia and I walked back into the restaurant, hand in hand with her delectable flavor skipping on the tip of my tongue. I picked a white flower from her hair as we sat at the table and averted the eyes of Bruce and Diane with a smile lingering over my face. One I couldn’t shake.
“Get your phone?” Diane asked, all-knowingly.
“I must’ve left it at the house.” Mia waved her hand in front of her and eyed the food that had arrived while we were gone. “Oh, man. This looks so good.”
Diane rolled her eyes and sifted her fork through her coleslaw as Bruce remained quiet.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my pocket to see it was Travis. He had been silent since I’d sent him a message to only contact me in case of emergencies, and this was his third time calling this morning.
“Excuse me. I have to take this.” Answering, I stood back up. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been trying to reach you, where have you been?” Travis’s tried to get out through short breaths.
“Mia had court this morning,” I explained, taking a step outside to the side of the building. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“No, Ollie. Things are not okay. I’m bugging out over here. Dex isn’t fucking around. They fucking killed him, Ollie. They killed him to get to you. If you don’t come back and give him what he wants …”
“Slow down, who’s gone?” My gaze darted around until it found Mia eating on the other side of the window. “Who did Dex kill?”
“Oscar. He was shanked last night at High Down. Your brother is dead. Now, I don’t know if he believes you two were close, but it was a fucking message. They can take anyone anytime they want. I don’t know what to do, Oliver. They don’t have your address, but I’m still packing up Summer and going to stay with her mom for …” his words fell into the back of my mind. The mobile shook in my hand, and the steady gaze I once had on Mia grew blurry.
My brother was dead.
Oscar was dead.
“Ollie, are you there? Are you hearing what I’m saying?” Travis shouted into the phone.
I dropped my head back and moved my fingers over my temples. “Yeah.” I couldn’t say more. My emotions betrayed me over a brother I’d once loved but learned to hate, but still always assumed he’d become this changed man one day, that I could help him change.
“Leave Mia there and come back and handle this. Give Dex what he wants.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“Funeral? You can’t be serious. Your brother was a fucking wanker. He doesn’t deserve a funeral.”
“His prison sentence—his fight—is over,” I reminded him through clenched teeth. “Stop punishing a dead man, it only thrives the hate that should be buried along with him. We are all worthy of closure.”
I ended the call with Travis to ring High Down Prison.
They planned on burying Oscar tomorrow. I had to leave today.
“Mum! What have you done?!” Oscar shouts, rushing through the door, unexpected, dropping grocery bags in his wake as Mum clings on to me, crying.
Her entire body is shaking, and she’s whipping her head violently, mumbling things I don’t understand. Maybe it’s because I’m crying, too, gasping for air. Oscar rips me from her arms into his. He searches my face and tilts my head back into his hands. “Breathe, Oliver,” he chants, pushing his fingers through my sweaty hair. “I’m here. I’m right here,” a tear slips from his cheek and lands on my lips. I’ve never seen Oscar cry, but it’s fascinating, and I don’t know how it’s possible, but his brown eyes go black when he snaps his head back to mum. “He’s eight years old, Mum! Eight!”
“Oscar,” Mum cries, “I’m sorry. I didn’t … Come home. Please, I don’t know what happened. I can’t take this anymore ...”
Oscar lays me over the mattress, and at the corner of my eye, he jumps from his knees and tackles Mum, his fists and threats flying, “If anything happens to him, you’ll lose me too. You’ll lose me forever, you worthless slapper. I should fucking kill you.” He slams her against the wall, and she curls into the corner.
Oscar returns to my side and cradles me in his arms. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t ever let anything happen to you,” Oscar whispers, wiping the tears from my eyes in the warm bed for the first time as Mum cries from the corner of the room. He’s eighteen now, big, strong, and safe. My brother. “Close your eyes, Oliver. Close your eyes and think about something else. Dream, brother.”