Rescue Breathing (21 page)

“
Enough fun and games, my naughty girl,” I
laugh, reaching up to pull her down to my side. She collapses next
to me and before she can catch her breath, I'm on top of her. “Hi,”
I say, my lips brushing against hers.

“
Hi.”

I slip my hand behind the nape of her
neck, holding her firmly as I lean in to gently bite her lips
before kissing and licking them better. Olivia lets out a moan, and
I dart my tongue inside, exploring her mouth. I move my hand from
behind her neck, sliding it down her throat to cup the curves of
her breast as I continue to kiss her.

“
I've thought of a hundred ways to make you
come today,” I growl against her lips.

She inhales sharply and grins
wickedly.
“Oh yeah?
How?” she asks, tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth.

“
Sitting on my face,” I say between kisses,
“with my fingers inside of your sweet pussy, or my cock buried deep
inside of you, or in the shower with my hands all over you, or by
just teasing your perfect nipples…”

“
You've given this some thought. I'm
impressed,” she smiles before kissing me again, this time more
urgently.

“
Like I said, I've been thinking of you all
damn day,” I whisper into her mouth.

“
So then do something about it,” she teases
me.

Immediately, I rise up from her and onto
my knees. I grab the bottom hem of my shirt and slip it up and over
my head, tossing it into a corner. Olivia reaches out to touch my
abs, but I playfully slap her hand away.

“
No, no, no,” I sing.

She sticks out her bottom lip
dramatically.
She's even
sexy when she pouts.

I lie on my back on the bed and roll a
pillow underneath my neck for support. “Come here. I want my mouth
on you. Now.” I slap my bare chest for her to sit on me. I need to
taste her.

Olivia hooks a leg over my hip and pushes
herself up to straddle my hips.

“
Oh my.” Her eyes are wide. “What
monstrosity am I sitting upon, Owen?” she asks, pressing her hands
on my chest and rubbing herself along my aching cock.

“
Fuck, woman. You're killing
me.”

“
You want to taste me, do you?” Olivia asks
as she continues to tease me. It'
s
exquisite
.
“Well, you are
a lucky man tonight, Owen Maxwell. I just happen to have one very,
very wet pussy that is just aching to be licked.”

My cock twitches beneath her and my eyes
nearly cross.

“
I think your penis likes that idea Owen.
Am I correct?”

“
Oh, I think you are correct, yes Olivia.”
I say with a grin.

She plants her feet on either side of my
hips, stands on the bed again, and starts to pull her thong off one
leg at a time. As she does, I start to unbutton my jeans and leave
the fly open, giving my beast a chance to breathe.

Olivia looks down at me while she unclasps
her bra. She throws it to the side and begins to massage her
breasts and tweak her nipples. I let out a groan from the back of
my throat as I watch her intently.

“
This is what you want, Owen? You want me
to lower myself on your face?” she asks as I run my hands up her
calves.

“
Let me make you feel
good,
” I say, my
fingernails lightly scratching down the backs of her
legs.

Olivia slowly lowers herself onto me and
my hands slide up her thighs to her ass.
I groan as she positions herself over me. I lift
my head up and she moans loudly as my tongue makes
contact.

Olivia is so slick and hot that it makes
my mind hum and my ears buzz. She's sweet and juicy and eager for
me. Gripping the headboard of the bed, she gently rocks her hips
back and forth across my face, my tongue lapping at her as she
moves. I grab her hips to slow her down. I want to take my time and
savor this. There'
s no
rush.
I lick and lap at
her pussy like I would her mouth, softly and slowly with the right
amount of pressure. I surround her with my lips and moan. She lets
out a gasp and a small tremor shakes her body.

“
I love your pussy, Olivia. So fucking hot
and wet.”

Her moans of pleasure ring sweetly in my
ears. My tongue continues to lap at her, exploring her slick folds,
the tip of my tongue flicking across her sensitive nub with a
steady rhythm.

“
Yes,” she whines, moving her hips a little
faster. “I can't stop thinking about your tongue on me like this.
More...please,” she pleads. “Please don'
t stop, Owen
…
Feels so
good...
”

I work her slowly, bringing a hand down to
open her up to me, my mouth and fingers coaxing her higher and
higher. Olivia lowers her hand, tangling her fingers in my hair.
She pulls at my hair as she presses me harder to her. I fucking
love it.

“
You'
re so perfect, Liv.
I love seeing you like this,” I moan into her and slip a
finger deep inside her.

“
Gahh! Yes!” she shouts as her knees start
to quake. “
Feels so
good, Owen
…
You feel so
good
…”

My lips and tongue continue to lick and
suck at her secret spot. I look up to watch her writhing above me.
Her eyes are closed while a hand pulls and tugs at her taut nipple.
From this vantage point, it's the sexiest thing I've ever
witnessed. She opens her eyes and looks down at me. I smile and she
smiles back through hooded eyes.

“
Owen...
”

“
Mmmm… Yes…”

“
Oh fuck…
Owen! I
'm… I'm...Oh… Oh don'
t stop, Owen. I
'm there… I'
m
coming...I
'm…”

And then all I can do is hold on as she
crashes into an orgasm so intense she squeezes my head between her
legs and briefly cuts off my oxygen supply.
She grinds against my mouth as I continue
to lap at her, my tongue working feverishly to make it so good for
her like I promised.

Olivia leans back and places her hands
behind her on my thighs. “Wow. You're really good at that. That was
absolutely amazing.”

“
The pleasure was all mine.”

“
I doubt that,” she says, rolling off my
chest to lie beside me. She promptly hooks her fingers in the
waistband of my boxers and pulls. I lift my hips to allow her to
pull my boxers and jeans down my legs.

“
A little impatient?
” I ask with a smirk.

“
A little. Are you complaining?”

“
Never. Oh God…” I say as Olivia bends to
take me into her mouth.

“
Now, let me make this good for
you,
” she
whispers.

Who am I to deny her that?

CHAPTER TWENTY

Olivia

As I exit the airport and hail a cab, I am
suddenly intensely sad.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I struggle to
maintain my composure. I feel so lonely. In Seattle, things didn't
seem so glum. I didn't feel the weight of being without someone in
my life or the impact Jay's betrayal had on me. At least I hadn't
felt it in a while. But now...Now that I've seen what I could have,
what could be, what probably
won't
be, it's flat-out devastating.

Luckily for me, a cab pulls up quickly and
I climb in, throwing my carry-on into the back seat with me. I give
the cabbie my address and sit back. I forgot that I haven't turned
my phone back on since I landed, so I rummage through my purse and
find my cell in the side pocket. I pull it out and press the button
to bring the black screen to life.

There is a text from Charley.

Don't overthink when you get home.

He lives in NYC. This is karma.

Don't hide in your hole and let this pass
by.

He likes you, Liv...Let him.

That
's all it takes, and I put my head down and start to
sob.
You
fucking piece of shit, Jay. Destroying me for any other good man in
this world… I fucking hate you.
With tears still filling my eyes, I lean my head back on
the seat, closing my eyes, wishing all this pain away.

I wake with a jolt when the cabbie
announces that we're in front of my apartment building. I must have
fallen asleep. I pay the fare and clamber out of the car, pulling
my luggage up the stairs of my brownstone. As I walk into my very
dark, lonely apartment, I drop my suitcase and collapse onto the
couch. The loneliness is so intense that it feels like there's a
vise around my heart. I pick up my phone and send a text to
Charley.

Made it home safe. Thanks for the uplifting
words.

I love you and miss you already.

I contemplate the last moments I had with
Owen.
I promised him I
would text when I got home safely. So I do just that. No sense in
him worrying, assuming that he is. He probably isn't.
Ugh! Shut UP,
Olivia!

Arrived safe and sound and in my
apartment.

Hope your trip is safe too.

I hit send and let out a big
breath.
Let's see if he
ever responds.

I muster up the strength to drag my bag
and myself into my bedroom. I move into the bathroom and run the
shower, turning the water as hot as I can get it. I need to wash
away the yuckiness of the long flight and all these bad feelings. I
look at my face in the mirror, assessing. Do I look any different?
Do I look thoroughly fucked? Do I look like a woman who has spent
the weekend with an amazing man having amazing sex and bizarre
daydreams of spending copious amounts of quality time with him? I
decide that I look no different because nothing
is
any different.

I wonder what coming home will be like for
him. What he is coming home to?
 A woman? A regular fling? A dog? A family? Ugh.
Family. I'm going to have to address that issue eventually. Another
uplifting phone call with my mom about my single life and the one
who got away.

I climb into the shower and wash away all
the misery. I keep my head under water as long as I can stand it.
My mind drifts as I stand under the running water, the steam so
thick it almost makes it hard to breathe. I grab my loofah and
drizzle body wash on it. While I wash, I imagine myself scrubbing
off all the hurt, all the confusion, all the disappointment. When
I'm done, my skin is red and raw, but I feel invigorated and clean.
I step out of the shower smelling like a lemon verbena and
grapefruit and feeling one hundred percent better. I wrap myself in
a bathrobe before going to my bed to call Simon and fill him in on
my trip. He and his fiancée, Reese, will want to know I made it
home okay and that I'm in one piece.

After a short conversation with my
brother, who informs me that Charley called, filled them in on
Owen, and instructed him to not to let this one get away, I hang up
and pour myself a glass of wine. I lie back on my bed, turn on some
bad TV, and drink until I drift asleep.

* * *

I set my bag down on the chair next to me
and take a tentative sip of my Chai tea.
Starbucks is busy, and the noise that would
normally irritate me is comforting today. I've been home for two
days and I haven't heard from Owen—not even a response to my “got
home safe” text message. I guess I didn't really expect to hear
back. Oh, who am I kidding? I hoped, I prayed, I dreamed I
would.

I take another sip and nibble on my
raspberry scone.
My
breakfast choice reminds me of our morning at Starbucks, and I lose
myself in the memory. I picture his smile, his relaxed nature, his
hand smoothing over my hip as he pulled me in for an unexpected
kiss when I got there. I can almost feel his hands on me, and I
shiver involuntarily.

This isn
't the first time I have reminisced about our time
together. In fact, I have been playing back our days together in
Seattle over and over. One thing he said keeps turning over in my
mind.
“What
did your last boyfriend do to you to make you so fucking
scared?”
Without further
ado, my mind drifts back in time...

On the one or two dates I was set up on, I
balked the second the guy seemed to want more than a few dates, the
moment it seemed he was interested in trying for more. If there was
even a hint of interest in someone else or a breakup that was too
recent, I ran. And so it has been for the last few months...until
Owen. Have I run with him? Well, yeah I have. But...he comes back.
And more importantly, I let him back in.

After our night together, after the club,
I called Charley. I hadn't ever felt as loved, cherished, adored,
as I did that night. Even Jay had never made me feel that way. I
processed it with her, of course downplaying and looking for every
negative while she sang his praises and the progress I've made
already with him. And now...here I am....at Starbucks alone. I
don't know where Owen lives, what fire company he is with, or if he
too has a family hidden somewhere. All I have is a cell phone
number that hasn't called or texted me since Seattle. I look down
at my Chai and take a deep breath, trying to tamp down whatever
this is I'm feeling.