"Yeah." Oliver just smiles at him. "I like her new cut too. Sexy, don't you think?"
Sean clears his throat.
"Mmm." Oliver makes a show of running his fingers over my neck. "I love it. Especially love it in my hands when Luna is coming on my cock."
Sean's jaw drops.
"Or, fuck—Guess I don't have to tell you how good she is with her mouth." Oliver smiles, pure serenity. "It was good to see you, Sean. Glad you haven't changed." He presses his palm into my lower back.
I'm too frozen to move.
Guess I don't have to tell you how good she is with her mouth.
"Angel? The coffee?" He presses harder. "We should grab it now."
"I want to…" Did he… Did I…
Oh my god.
Sean stares at us, dumbstruck.
"Luna." Oliver slides his arm around my waist. He pulls me closer. Pulls me with him as he takes a step toward the cafe. "See you later, Sean."
Sean stares.
I let Oliver lead me.
I…
He…
What…
Guess I don't have to tell you how good she is with her mouth.
My thighs shake. My toes curl. My breath hitches.
I don't even like—
"Luna? Do you want the coffee?" Oliver lowers his voice to a near whisper. "Your ex is still looking."
"Yeah." I keep my eyes on the cafeteria line. All sorts of weird foods. And the coffee right there. In the middle.
I take a step toward it.
Oliver follows. "Are you okay?"
"Did you really say that?" My gaze flits to his eyes. My cheeks flush immediately.
"Say what?"
"That you… that I…"
"That you're good at giving head?"
"You used different words."
"You want me to repeat that?" He chuckles, but it's not his usual above it all tone. It's almost… nervous.
"Do you think about that?"
"You don't want me to answer that." He stops at the machine. Grabs two cups. Motions to the options. Dark and light roast. "Dark?"
"Yeah."
He fills the cup to the top.
"You were just saying that, right?" My hand brushes his as I take the cup. "You don't really think about me—"
He cuts me off. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
Chapter Fifteen
Luna
Do you really want me to answer that?
Right. We're sane people. We aren't talking about how I caught him fucking himself.
We aren't discussing what he imagines when he fucks himself.
And, really, he should be more generous in his fantasies. I mean, sure, they're his fantasies. He can think whatever he wants.
And it's not as if I dislike that particular activity.
I mean, I don't really like it. But I could. In theory.
It's just Sean was too aggressive. And I have a sensitive gag reflex. And he was never grateful. It was like he expected me to blow him just because he existed.
Is Oliver the same way?
Or does he groan a thank you so deep and needy it makes my sex clench—
"Luna." He cuts me off again. "I'm gonna stand next to you until his 'girlfriend' shows up."
"Yeah." Right. I'm standing here, holding this cup of coffee. And Sean is sitting at a table, waiting, pretending not to watch us.
"We aren't talking about it."
"Right." I nod.
"So you should make it less obvious you're thinking about it."
"You're the one who said—"
"Pissed him off, didn't it?"
My gaze flits to Sean. He's staring at his phone, all pouty and frustrated. That why can't you understand what I want look of his.
Was he always this irritating? Or is it just that he decided I was too much work?
The only guy I ever loved—my boyfriend of eighteen months—deemed me difficult.
Too hard to please.
Too demanding.
Too…
I'm not even sure. Just that he did the math and arrived at the conclusion Luna isn't worth the effort.
Whatever.
He's not worth the effort.
"Fuck." Oliver chuckles. "He looks so mad."
He does.
"Like he wants to deck me, but he's afraid he can't take me."
"He could," I say.
"You're defending your ex-boyfriend?"
"If you're going to fight, you should know what you're up against."
He shakes his head shameful. "He looks pathetic."
"Because he's picturing us…" Ahem.
"'Cause he's picturing you sucking my cock?"
"Jesus, Oliver." My blush spreads to my chest. It's ridiculous. I don't get nervous. I just…
"Fuck, he's so jealous. I think he's gonna do it."
"He's in good shape."
Oliver shrugs whatever. Sure he can take Sean. "I would hit him. If you asked."
"Why would I ask?"
"Didn't he dump you?"
"Thanks for the reminder."
"Just saying."
"Just saying?" I swallow a sip. Mmm. Dark and rich. Surprisingly good for a furniture store. I let out a groan.
Oliver stares with rapt attention. "You like it?"
Not going there. "It's good. Thanks."
He turns to his coffee. Adds sugar and half-and-half. Takes a long sip. "I got it." He motions to the register. "Stay here."
"I can."
He shakes his head no way. "Please. I owe you. For the satisfaction I'm feeling right now."
Okay… sure.
I sip my coffee, trying not to picture Oliver's suggestion, half-watching Sean as he stands, greets his girlfriend, keeps glancing our way.
She's exactly what I imagine. A petite brunette (natural color and it's long and neat) in an adorable yet tasteful dress and flats.
Is she oblivious to what a dickhead he is?
Or do his other traits make up for his attitude?
Sean is incredibly handsome. As handsome as Oliver. In a more clean cut, future finance guy way.
No intense blue eyes. Or strong eyes.
Or tattoo just above his hip—
Ahem.
Oliver rejoins me at the counter. "Five more minutes."
"Huh?"
"Of enjoying his pain."
And that sexy, deep voice. The throaty laugh. The wicked grin.
The, uh…
God, Oliver is hot. It's wrong. It's really, incredibly wrong.
Oliver chuckles as Sean glances at us again. "Was that the thing to say?"
"Huh?"
"Did you not…?"
Not going there. "Why do you want to know?"
"Curious."
Why is he curious? We are friends. And friends talk. But this isn't friends talking.
It's something else.
"What about?" I ask.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."
"I don't not want to talk about it," I say.