Return to You

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.