CHAPTER 23
OLIVE
Only a few more hours,I tell myself, as I change my designer leggings for the second time in a day.Then you’ll have more suppressants.
Hopefully.
My symptoms are becoming worse.
I slept the day before away, thoroughly exhausted from my activities with Dylan. He kindly left me dinner on the desk, along with a slice of chocolate pie, which elicited erotic moans from me.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve all heard me.
But tonight’s the night.
I limp into the living room, dressed in an oversized black hoodie and leggings. I pulled my hair into a high bun, which will stay hidden under my hood.
Killian winks at me when I enter the living room and playfully tugs on my bun. “My little thief,” he chides, pulling me into his arms. I inhale his scent, letting the spiciness fill my senses.
“Fuck, you smell good,” he whispers in my ear, and I shiver. “Is that all for me, baby?”
I whimper as he nips at my earlobe.
“You have to stop,” I murmur into his chest.
“Too sensitive?” He asks, releasing me.
I nod, grateful that he respects my boundaries, even if he wants to ravish me.
Dylan joins us, dressed in a black hoodie and dark jeans, and my mouth waters.
“Hey, beautiful,” he smiles at me. “You ready?”
I sigh. “Yes. I need them as soon as possible.”
“I know, baby,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening. “We’ll take care of you. Never forget that.”
I shift uncomfortably, my core aching, and he frowns. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I can drown myself in sanitizer. We both can.”
I chuckle. “I’m ready to leave,” I say. “Where’s the garage? That’s the only place I haven’t been.”
“I’ll lead you,” another voice booms. Brock enters, dressed in all black, with a tight V-neck shirt and black pants.
Fuck me. He looks insanely hot.
“You’re coming?” I ask, surprised.
His eyes burn into mine. “Of course.”
My chest tightens, and I smile.
The corner of his lip quirks up and he motions at me. “Come on. I’ll show you the way.”
As it turns out, Brock has an insane collection of sports cars in his giant garage.
“Wow,” I murmur. “These are all yours?”
“Some are mine,” Dylan adds, pointing towards the muscle cars. “And Killian’s is in the driveway.”