“That’s a shame, but there’s blood on it. And evidence all over it.” He stops, sighs, and adds, “Don’t make me take your clothes off of you, Love. You don’t look up to a fight. Also, I heard what you were both talking about. If you don’t change, I’ll givehimthe lecture as to why your work deserved a Bminus.” He walks away before I can think of anything to say, and Oliver eases himself onto the sofa next to me.
My mind feels fuzzy, and I shiver in spite of myself. I’m confused, especially because I know exactly what I’d said to Oliver while I’d been hyperventilating and close to passing out. Not that I’m sure how much differently I feel right now, but it’s worth noting that I don’t want to put a gun to his head anymore.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, promising myself it’s a question for curiosity’s sake. “For the alley?”
His eyes narrow, brows furrowing in his confusion. “Mad at you? Why would I be?” There’s no trace of the crazed psycho from what feels like a few hours ago. It’s like that part of him has sunk deep down into his chest, far too deep for me to see.
“Uh, I put a gun to your head,” I remind him quietly, taking off my hoodie and the tee under it. Oliver shakes out the new clothes, which include a shirt and jacket that look like they might belong to him. He hands them to me one by one, as if dealing with both is more than I can handle.
“It happens,” he shrugs, not looking at all upset about it.
“I could’ve shot you,” I point out, eyes widening. “Oliver, I had a gun to your head.”
“You had an empty gun to my head,” Oliver replies sweetly. “Seems like Rob really wasn’t going to shoot you. He just wanted the threat to be there so you’d think he had the power. You weren’t going to shoot me, either.”
“But you didn’t know that. I saw Rook’s face. You both thought the gun was loaded, and—” I break off as he reaches out to cup the uninjured side of my face.
“You weren’t going to shoot me,” he promises with all the confidence in the universe. “You were never going to pull the trigger, wonder girl.” Before I can ask him how he knows, how hereallyknows, he leans forward to gently kiss me.
I’m ready for my body and mind to shrink back. I’m waiting for the fear of what he’s done to hit me, just like it has so many times before. Or maybe I’ll recoil; smack his hand off of my face or bite his lip and remind him that I’mdone.
But I’m not at all prepared for the way that I sigh into his mouth and lean into him until he can wrap an arm around my waist. He groans with satisfaction, deepening the kiss until it feels like he’s trying to devour me. Oliver barely gives me time tobreathe, let alone think, and my body sparks with approval and arousal as my hands catch and slide against his skin.
Belatedly, as he finally pulls away with pupils blown and the look of absolute pleasure on his face, I realize just howfuckedI am. I haven’t proven that I want to be away from him.
I’ve proven just the opposite to him. To both of them, judging by the way Rook is leaning in the doorframe and watching us.
“Hey, next time I pass out, could I wake up somewhere else?” I demand, eyes on Rook as he saunters through the living room to sit down behind me. I try to move, or at least to turn, but Rook yanks me back against him with a growl against my lips as he picks up where Oliver left off.
God, it’s so hard to deny the things they make me feel. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, and the sensation of Oliver stroking his hands up my thighs isn’t lost on me as Rook explores my mouth with ease.
“If you do me the favor of never putting a gun to Oliver’s head again, I suppose it could be arranged,” Rook purrs against my lips. “Where would you like to wake up, Love?”
“Do you have a solarium?”
“No.”
“A pagoda?”
He lets out a sigh, eyeing me dryly.
“Okay, okay. A grand ballroom? Surely this place has a grand ballroom.”
“Would you like us to build you a bedroom?” he replies in a smooth, sarcasm-laden tone.
“A wing,” I reply, meeting his eyes and holding them. My heart flutters in my chest, and he must sense the unease warring inside me, because he leans forward to kiss my throat again.
My breathing picks up and I pull away from him after a moment, unable to shake my nerves and misgivings. “I don’t know about this,” I mumble, shaking my head. “It’s prettyobvious I didn’t prove anything. I know I didn’t tell you to fuck off enough times or throw onion bombs at you from the window. I know that I give mixed signals…” Wrapping my arms around myself, still shaking my head, I continue, “But you can’t expect me to be okay with… this.”
Rook runs a hand through my hair and gets to his feet smoothly, exiting the room while Oliver just… watches me.
“Is he upset?” I ask, nodding to the doorway.
Oliver shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t really get mad. And he thought we’d have to tie you down, so I’d say you’re exceeding expectations.” He flashes me a bright grin. “And you’re wrong, by the way. You’ve shown meexactlywhat you want.”
That’s news to me, and I blink at him in surprise.
“You’ve shown me that I have all the time in the world to make you ours.”