Return to You (15 page)

She turned to him. "Were you worried about me
too?"

"You're capable of taking care of yourself. You've
always been the first one to point that out."

Olivia feigned shock. "How amazing you remember
that."

"Is there a point to this, Olivia? Elaine and I were
in a meeting." He calmly sipped his coffee but his eyes never
strayed from hers.

She felt rage boil in her blood. The urge to scream
at him was powerful but Eve wouldn't appreciate a scene in her
cafe.

She yanked a chair out and dropped into it. Leaning
forward, she glared at him and said softly, "Stay the hell out of
my life."

She heard Lainie gasp but she didn't take her eyes
off Parker's. It was like watching a cobra—the second she turned
her back she knew he'd strike. She didn't want to be caught off
guard.

He set his cup down and regarded her with his cold,
intense gaze. Just as softly, he replied, "Like hell I will."

She clutched her hands at her sides to stop their
shaking. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Maybe I'm doing this for my daughter."

"Ha! That was a good one."

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"I believe you have a hidden
agenda. The only thing that motivates you is your work. Not once in
my life have I seen you do anything not related to getting ahead in
Hollywood. You care more about that than you do me. You always
have, you always will. What or how I feel has
never
been a consideration, as
evidenced when you dumped me on Gran after mom died and when you
took Michael away after high school."

Lainie gasped again. "What?"

Olivia turned to her with a bitter smile. "Didn't
you know that? Michael and I would probably be married now if my
father hadn't offered him the chance of a lifetime. He stole
Michael from me." She faced her father. "Good thing Mom died, huh?
One less complication in your grand design to get ahead."

As soon as she said the words she wished she could
take them back. She covered her mouth, horrified at herself.

Pain flashed in his eyes, but he masked it just as
quickly as it'd flared. "You sound bitter, Olivia. Frankly I
expected better from you."

Anger rose. Why did he have to do that all the time?
"Yes, well you never made a secret of how I disappointed you."

"Stop it," Lainie hissed, slapping her palm down on
the table. "I've had enough. You two should be ashamed of
yourselves. This is hardly the forum for a discussion like
this."

"Well, it can't very well take place at home since
he"—she pointed a finger at him—"turned it into a zoo. Not that
it's surprising. He doesn't care about anything other than
work."

Lainie frowned at her. "That's enough, Olivia. I
won't let you talk about your father that way."

"You won't?" he asked.

Lainie ignored him. "Your father is a caring man.
His methods may not be ideal"—she shot him a reproving look—"but he
means well."

"He's out to get something, Lainie. He forced
Michael into shooting the movie at the farm." She turned on him. "I
don't do manipulated anymore. I control my own life, and you can
damn well keep your bloody hands out of it."

Elaine sighed. "Olivia—"

"He locked Michael and me in the shed together. All
night long."

That stopped her cold. She faced Parker. "Is that
true?"

Her unflappable father fidgeted uncomfortably. "I
hardly see that it signifies."

"Of course it signifies. Olivia is a grown woman.
Her life is her own. She's right. You have no right to interfere in
her business."

"I—"

"No, Everett, you don't." Lainie pointed at Olivia.
"And no gloating from you. This is enough. It's time you two
declared a truce."

Olivia snorted. From the expression on Parker's
face, she could tell he wanted to as well.

Lainie rolled her eyes. "Did any good come out of
being locked with Michael?"

Olivia blushed, remembering the orgasms and how each
one was more powerful than the next. That probably wasn't what
Lainie meant though.

Lainie nodded. "So can't you forgive your father for
his methods?"

"I've got to go. I'm late opening the store." She
stood up, not caring if he could see through her excuse. She just
needed to get away. Space to think.

"Olivia."

She looked over her shoulder at Parker.

"I do care, you know," he said quietly.

"Yeah, but is that enough?"

Before he could reply she left, thoughts of a latte
and scone abandoned. Food was the last thing on her mind right
now.

Olivia lay in bed, watching the moonlight dance on
the walls. She was exhausted but sleep was elusive.

Her bed felt so empty.

Just when she started to doze, a tapping on the
window stilled her awake. She turned to look, reaching for
something to use as a weapon, but then she saw who it was.

"Michael," she said in shock as she climbed out of
bed.

"That's harder than I remembered it to be." He
grinned and pointed at her weapon as he climbed in. "What were you
planning to do? Bore your intruder into submission?"

She looked at the copy of
Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion
in her hand and shrugged. "It was that or lubing
you to death with my moisturizer."

"That sounds promising."

She shook her head, watching him close the window.
"You're insane."

"At one time I'd have disagreed." He stood before
her and grazed her bottom lip with his forefinger. ""But, yeah,
you're right. I'm out of my mind."

Sinking both hands into her hair, he tilted her head
back and traced her lips with his tongue.

Dropping the book on the floor, she pulled his head
down for better contact. She heard someone moan and was surprised
to realize the sound came from her.

Panting, he broke their kiss. His thumbs caressed
her cheekbones before sliding down her neck to rest on her
shoulders.

"Your hands are cold." She shivered but she knew it
was more from his touch than the coldness of his hands. His hands
may have been chilled but his gaze as he looked her over was
scorching.

"You can warm them up." He fingered the spaghetti
strap of her tank top. He dropped to his knees, hands around her
waist, and nipped a path around her belly button to her
piercing.

"I didn't get to do this last night, and I've been
dying to since I came back," he said, and then he sucked the tiny
hoop into his mouth, tugging lightly.

She clutched his shoulders, dazed by the shock of
pleasure shooting through her body.

He placed a kiss on each of her hips before placing
one in the center. He gazed up at her, his thumbs rubbing back and
forth. Slowly, his eyes still connected to hers, he pressed his
lips right over where she throbbed most. As he nibbled her over her
underwear she thought for sure she was going to die.

She gasped, her hips arching forward with a will of
their own. His teeth worked her gently but persistently.

"Take it off," she commanded.

He yanked down her panties and sank his tongue into
her.

She didn't know who was taken by more surprise by
her orgasm—him or her. She cried out, dizzy as each wave crested
through her.

He lifted his head and scooped her in his arms. He
kissed her, walking blindly toward her bed. She tasted herself on
him and moaned into his mouth.

He followed her down onto the mattress and covered
her with his body. "Is this the same bed? Because if it is, next
time you can sneak into my room instead. At least my mattress
doesn't sag."

"Shut up." She bit her way up the muscular column of
his neck. He smelled so good—familiar but different and exciting at
the same time.

"You may not be concerned now, but in the morning
when your back is kinked up you'll realize I was right."

"I'll give you kinky." She rolled over, toppling
both of them onto the floor.

"Oof!" was all he said when she landed on top of
him.

"Nice hard support for your back." She sat up and
stripped off her top. "You should be fine now."

Underneath her, Michael went still. The amusement in
his eyes faded, leaving behind heat so intense she was afraid she'd
get burned.

"I have too many clothes on," he pointed out.

"I was noticing that myself." She unzipped his
leather jacket, grabbed each side of his button down shirt, and
pulled. Fabric ripping was punctuated by buttons pinging off the
hardwood floor.

Olivia bent down and kissed her way across his
chest, earning her a sharp gasp. "Shh," she chided, not bothering
to look up. "We need to be quiet, remember?"

Not that it mattered. Her room was on the other side
of the house from the others. No one would be any wiser. As long as
they didn't scream at the top of their lungs.

Which, at this point, was a definite
possibility.

"Quiet. Right." He hissed as she unsnapped his jeans
and slid her hands inside.

She stopped when her fingers met bare hard flesh.
"No underwear?"

He gave her a crooked grin. "Seemed excessive
tonight."

"Good thinking." She pushed down his pants, staring
at the long length of him.

Shimmying down, she took him all the way in her
mouth before she sucked the tip. By the way he groaned and clutched
her hair, she figured he liked it, so she did it again. And
again.

"Olivia." He wrapped his hand in her hair and
tugged. She lifted her head. "Later I want you to do that to me
again, but for now I want inside you."

"I want that too." She straddled him and maneuvered
him deep inside.

He brought some of her hair forward so it draped
over her torso. He brushed her nipple with the hair. Sighing, she
dropped her head back and offered her breasts to him.

He didn't hesitate. Sitting up, one hand gripping
her hip to control her grinding movements, he sucked her nipple
into his mouth. She cried out.

He murmured against her skin. "We have to be quiet,
remember?"

"Do we?"

He grinned as he scraped his teeth against the taut
peak of her breast. "Yeah. Or I can stop."

"Bastard." She squeezed herself around him.

"Okay, maybe I won't stop," he said, panting.

"I thought you might change your mind."

He placed his hand on the small of her back to guide
her rhythm. He sucked right below her ear where her pulse beat
wildly. "Olivia, I can feel you gripping my cock so tight. You're
going to come, aren’t you? I can feel it."

He covered her mouth a split second before she
shrieked. She plunged head first into a deep abyss of
pleasure—sinking, swimming, lost to everything except the feel of
him going harder and exploding inside her as his tongue mated with
her mouth.

She melted against him and he flipped her around so
he was lying on top of her. Hooking her right leg in the crook of
his arm, he thrust into her. She wanted to tell him to stop—there
was no way she was going to come again. Another thrust and she
decided she could be ready soon. By the third she was an active
participant.

He brushed her hair out of her face and cupped her
jaw. "Look at me. I want to watch you as you come."

She laughed breathlessly. "Keep it up and you won't
have to wait long."

He grinned. "I don't think that'll be a
problem."

It wasn't.

Chapter Twenty-two

By the next morning, Olivia decided she could
forgive Gran and Parker for their meddling if it meant another
couple weeks of head banging sex.

She oozed through the door into Grounds for Thought,
she was so boneless from Michael's visitation the night before. She
grinned like a fool but didn't care. She sashayed to the counter.
"Hey girlfriend!"

"Hey yourself. You have good timing." Eve pointed to
a tray of scones. "Fresh out of the oven."

"I'm good with timing." As evidenced with Michael.
She'd never had sex that was so on before.

Eve began making her drink. "You look like you've
lapped up a big bowl of cream."

"Or something." Olivia's grin widened.

Eve leaned across the counter. "You want the first
degree with your latte or before?"

"How about I sit over there"—Olivia pointed to a
small table in the corner—"and you bring over the latte and I'll
fill you in."

"Deal. Give me juicy details and I'll throw in a
pastry."

Olivia laughed. "You drive a hard bargain."

Eve was over at the table in record time with
Olivia's drink and scone. She faced a chair toward the door, to
keep an eye out for customers Olivia assumed, and sat down. "Okay,
I'm ready."

Olivia hid her grin behind her drink, making a
pretense of leisurely sipping it just to drive her friend
crazy.

Eve exhaled in frustration. "Okay, fine. I can
probably guess what happened anyway."

"Go ahead."

Eve folded her arms across her chest and pursed her
lips. "You and Michael obviously spent last night together. By the
look in your eyes, I'd say you did more than just talk."

Olivia popped a piece of scone in her mouth.

"If I had to guess, I'd say last night wasn't the
first time since he's been back."

She grinned. "Maybe."

"So did you tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"Don't play dumb." Eve rolled her eyes. "Did you
clear the past between you two?"

She groaned. First her grandmother and now Eve.

"I'll take that to mean no."

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is as long as it still haunts you."

"It's not haunting me." Not much anymore, in any
case.

Eve arched her eyebrows.

"It's not." She'd stopped holding Michael
responsible for her miscarriage—there was no reason to dredge it
all up. Besides, Michael cared about his career, not a baby he
never wanted.