Текст книги "Confessions of a Virgin Sex Columnist!"

Автор книги: Kay Marie

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

 

I can finally admit it. I'm in love with Oliver McDonough. I never stopped loving Oliver McDonough. And it terrifies me, more than I think I ever realized. But there's one thing that scares me more, one thing that sends a horrifying chill to my core. And it's the idea that I might regret this moment for the rest of my life, that I'll look back and forever wonder what if.

 

 

I'm on my knees and I'm not sure how I got here or when or how much time has passed since Ollie left the apartment. It feels like hours. But I can't imagine it's been more than a minute. And the longer I stare into the candle flames flickering around me, the more I wonder just what the hell I'm doing.

Ollie said he loves me.

And even though I didn't say it out loud, I know I love him. I've known it for a while. I never stopped loving him.

So again, I repeat, what the hell am I doing?

I stand, taking another look at the rose petals scattered along the floor, the candles delicately placed all around the room. I remember Ollie, who fell asleep on the couch waiting with blind faith for someone who might never come. And maybe it’s the romance decorating the room around me, or maybe it's the fact that I finally said all the things I'd waited so long to say, or maybe it's just the fact that I know if I don't do something now I'll never have the chance again, but I think of Ollie and I let go of the fear.

I dive off the cliff.

I free fall.

And though I just said I didn't trust him with my heart, everything changes in an instant. Because I've finally admitted the truth to myself. I'm finally being honest. Deep down, I believe in him. In us. Part of me always has, the part that never stopped hoping. The part that's always been falling, that's always been waiting and trusting that Ollie will be there to catch me.

"Ollie," I whisper.

Then I turn to the door. I scream. "Ollie!"

And then I run.

No shoes. No coat. No purse. Nothing.

There's no time to waste and my head can only think of one thing—finding him. So I race out the door, into the empty hallway, and I fly as fast as I can to the elevator.

"Ollie!" I shout again once the doors open to the lobby, but he's not here. So I rip open the front door, ignoring the cold, ignoring the ice that shoots through my stockings and into my toes as my feet fly over frozen pavement. It's snowing and it's January and I'm wearing a short sequin dress, tights, and nothing else—but I really don’t care. Frostbite be damned. I'm in love. I'm not afraid anymore. And you know what? A little cold is worth it if it means at the end of the night, Ollie might be the one to keep me warm.

"Ollie!" I yell into the vast open sky.

And then I see a figure pause at the end of the street and I know it's him.

"Ollie," I say again, softer this time, more a sigh of relief, a push to keep going.

But when I close the distance, when I'm a foot away, I stop and stare at his back, unsure of what to say. He hasn't turned around. He's waiting.

My whole body is shivering. My teeth chatter and I hug my arms around my midsection, trying to hold in a little shred of heat. So I totally blame the cold for what I say next, for the slight stall, and don't at all blame any lingering doubts or fears clogging my throat. "I broke up with Patrick tonight."

Silence.

Flurries fall in front of my face, like the tick of a clock reminding me that time is indeed still trudging forward.

"When?" Ollie asks, still not looking around, still facing the opposite direction.

"Before I came home, after the New Year's party. We went back to his apartment, and I thought something else was going to happen, but then I broke up with him instead, surprising us both I think."

"Why?" he says, even quieter this time.

I lick my lips, breathing, watching the puffs of air flutter white before my lips, before evaporating into the black night. "I wasn't in love with him."

Ollie still doesn't move.

But I can't say this to the back of his wool coat. I need to see him. I need to look him in the eyes to know he hears me. So I reach out, slipping my fingers into his, and at my touch, he finally turns around, hope a fire in his crystal eyes.

"I love you, Ollie." His fingers tighten, but that's the only move he makes. So I do the only thing I know how to do when my nerves are at an uncontrollable level—I babble. "I love you, Ollie, and I'm sorry, so sorry I didn't say it before. Because obviously I love you, I never stopped loving you, even when I hated you. And believe me, I did hate you for a while there. But, I mean, let's not focus on that. Because you, me, we have another chance now, and I really don't think we should give it up. Not over a little thing like my being insanely stupid and not telling you this five minutes ago, because I'm here now, in below zero temperatures I might add, telling you I believe in us and I trust you and I want to give us a chance. We need to. Or, I don't know, we'll both—"

"Skye?" he says.

"Yeah?" I look up from the spot my eyes have found in the center of his chest to see Ollie is grinning widely, silently laughing with his eyes.

"Stop talking."

And then he takes my cheeks in both hands and kisses me. His lips are soft, almost hesitant. This is unknown territory for us, an honest space we've never been before. And I kiss him back, just as gentle, just as slow, exploring this new sensation gathering beneath my skin. For the first time with Ollie, our kisses don’t feel desperate or urgent, they feel tantalizingly untouched by time.

And though I don't want to stop, my toes are growing a little numb and I'm so cold that it's getting hard to move my lips without feeling somewhat like a fish.

"Ollie," I whisper.

"Hmm," he sighs against my mouth.

"I'm not wearing shoes," I murmur and he breaks away, eyes wide as they focus on the ground. "And, I'm sort of not wearing a coat either."

Ollie just shakes his head, lifting the corner of his lip. "So this is what I signed up for?"

I shrug, biting back a smile. "Guess so."

And before I can move, Ollie sweeps me quite literally off my feet, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. And you know what? It's not too shabby of a place to be. I curl into his chest as he walks us back inside. I don't even protest when he makes no move to put me down as we make our way into the elevator. Because his chest is warm and his muscles are firm beneath me, and my hands are too busy tracing lines across his chest, up his neck, across his face. I can't concentrate on anything else.

He doesn't put me down until we're back in the warmth of the apartment. We don't speak. Ollie slips his coat to the ground, and then his lips are back on mine and I don't want to think about anything else.

But because I'm crazy, obviously that doesn't happen.

A nagging sensation paws at the back of my mind and I can't help but notice how precariously close his coat landed to a candle. It isn't long before visions of a fire fill my brain, and really, that's the last thing I want to be thinking about right now.

Ollie stops moving. "Skye?" he groans.

"I'm good, I'm good." I shake my head.

He pulls back, eyebrows raised. "What?"

I bite my lip. "Nothing, it’s just…" My eyes flick to the coat. He follows, expression growing more amused. "It's just, it's close to the flames and really the candles are a fire hazard and—"

Ollie puts his finger over my lips. "You're probably the only girl in the world who doesn’t find this romantic."

"I do," I mutter against his skin, voice muffled. "It's super romantic. It's just super dangerous too."

He shakes his head. "That's just part of why I love you."

And then he steps away, circling the room to blow out each and every candle in the space. The space grows darker around me until only a sliver of silvery light remains—moonlight trickling in from the window. Somehow, it seems even more romantic to me.

"Anything else on your mind?" he whispers, stepping closer.

I shake my head, pursing my lips.

"Are the rose petals a tripping hazard?"

"No," I murmur.

"Is the room too hot?"

"No…"

"Too cold?"

"No…"

"Are you at all hungry?"

And now I know he's just completely making fun of me. So I don't give him the satisfaction of a response. I just reach out, grab a fistful of his shirt, and tug. It's a pretty effective way of getting him to shut up, and I smile against his lips, knowing this is probably the first time of many that I'll use the move against him.

But really, we're both winners here.

And the longer the kiss lasts, the more my mind finally shuts off. The passion that's always burned between us is still there, but for the first time, I don’t feel swept away and out of control. I ride it. And all that does is make the fire beneath my skin flare hotter.

Ollie's lips slip from mine, kissing their way across my cheek, down my neck. His fingers trail the path of my spine, slipping lower and lower, pausing at my hips to hold me closer, and then sinking to the edge of my dress. Mine slip beneath the folds of his T-shirt, finding the smooth skin of his abdomen, tracing the contours of his muscles, enjoying the way they constrict as I feel my way up his chest.

Both of our breaths turn ragged. But we don't speed up, if anything we just move slower, enjoying the fact that we have all the time in the world. Our hands explore first, then our lips. Ollie sighs and whispers my name. His love is a physical force, washing over me, cocooning me. And I realize, I've spent my entire life waiting. I don't want to wait any longer.

He senses the change. An electric snap heats the air around us. Suddenly his hands grip my waist, lifting me, and my legs wrap around him. And we’re moving, but I don't break the kiss to see where. Because I know. And there's no part of my heart or my body that has the will or the desire to say no.

 

Okay, so…you probably already guessed it, but, well—eek!—I'm not a virgin anymore. And you know what? The wait was totally worth it. Definitely. Sigh. Ollie is all mine. Please excuse me while I go melt into a puddle on the floor…

 

 

Soft yellow light is just starting to seep through Ollie's window, casting a soft glow across the bed. I trace the lines of his chest, watching the shadow of my hand flutter over his skin, marveling at how our bodies mold together. We're like two puzzle pieces that had to get ripped apart before we could see how perfectly we fit together. I almost want to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, but I know I'm not, because you know, you actually have to go to sleep to be dreaming.

And well, Ollie and I had better things to do than sleep.

Trust me.

"What are you thinking?" he whispers.

I glance up, finding his twinkling turquoise eyes, still a little unable to believe they’re shining for me. "Nothing."

He just looks at me pointedly. "You know, Skye, that might have worked with other guys you've dated but I've known you long enough to know there's always something going on inside your head. Spill."

Hmm, it would probably be easier to say what’s not going on inside my head, because right now my thoughts are zipping from one extreme to the other. We've got visions of a white picket fence and children playing in the front yard on one side. And on the other, the look of rage that will cross Bridge's face as soon as she finds out. Throw in the fact that I'm now a sex columnist with a sex life—which you think would be a good thing, but really it just makes everything I'll be writing more real somehow, less like pretend fiction and more like, oh god what does everyone think about me?—and you've got a small idea of the turmoil stirring my brain.

"I could always guess…" Ollie suggests.

"True," I comment lightly, "but what if you guess something that's not on my mind, and then you put it there, and it's all your fault when I fall into hysterics."

Ollie frowns. "Good point."

"Let's just lie here in peace while we still can, okay?"

But before Ollie can answer, a knock shatters the silence of the morning. Someone's at the door. Someone—

"Oh my god." I sit up, hugging the sheet to my chest, searching for something to throw over my shoulders.

Ollie watches me with a grin. "Here we go…"

But I'm ignoring him. I've already moved on to the rambling portion of the morning. "Oh my god, what if that's Bridge? What if she forgot her keys and needs me to open the door? What will she think about the roses, and oh crap, the candles everywhere? What are we going to tell her? Oh my god, she's going to freak out."

"She's going to freak out?" he mutters. And then he opens the drawer next to his bed, handing me a T-shirt. I shrug it on and stand. But then—

"I can't wear this," I shriek, ripping it off. "She'll know it's yours and then she'll ask why I'm wearing it and then she'll see the flowers and the candles. You, you have to go out and clean them up now. You put them there."

"I'm glad to see we're going to handle this like adults," he teases, pulling the shirt he gave me over his torso instead.

"You're right… you're right," I mutter. Breathe, just breathe. "If I'm not calm, she'll know something's up."

"Would that be the worst thing in the world? We can't exactly hide from my sister, your best friend, forever."

"Of course not, it's just, we don’t even know what we are yet. And as soon as we tell Bridge, she'll either want us to break up or get married, no in-betweens. We're not ready for that yet."

He clicks his tongue, thinking, and then gives in. "You're right," he says with a sigh. And then the knock sounds again, harder this time. He grabs me by the shoulders, staring at me, forcing me to calm down. "You, go put on some of your own clothes. I'll go clean the living room. And then I'll open the door. You stay in your room until you hear us talking and pretend to just be waking up. Deal?"

He holds out his hand and I shake it, already feeling better now that we have a plan. "Deal."

And then we split. I race to my room, trying to slow down the heart palpitations while I pull on sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt—nothing sexy or romantic in the slightest. And then I wait by my door, listening as the knock comes again. Ollie's feet shuffle over the wood floor, racing back and forth, until finally, I hear the door open.

I wait for Bridget's voice.

Only it never comes.

"Who the hell are you?" Ollie snaps.

My heart stops.

I rip open my bedroom door and jump into the living room, racing for the door. Only halfway there, I see who's waiting on the other side of the threshold. I halt dead in my tracks. Because I know who the hell it is. And really, it's the last person I ever expected to see.

"Hey, Skye," he says, shrugging with an awkward smile.

My mouth falls open, releasing one shocked word on its way down. "John?"

###

Thank you for reading!

 

Don't miss Confessions of an Undercover Girlfriend! (Confessions #2)

So, I'm no longer a virgin sex columnist—thank you, Ollie—but if I thought that was going to make my life easier, boy was I wrong! John is back in town determined to win my forgiveness. Blythe is more ready than ever to take me down. Bridget is totally onto the new twinkle in my eye. And, well, Ollie is just as distractingly delicious as usual.

So, naturally, I have a few more confessions to make.

Confession #1: I came up with what I thought would be the perfect plan to keep my relationship with Ollie a secret—pretend to get back together with John!

Confession #2: It backfired. A lot.

Coming soon! Sign up at the below link to be notified the morning it goes on-sale!

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Want more from Kay?

 

Don't miss her young adult fantasy novels, written as Kaitlyn Davis!

Midnight Fire is a bestselling young adult paranormal romance perfect for fans of The Vampire Diaries, Vampire Academy, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The first book, Ignite, is free!

Once Upon A Curse is a series of fairy tale retellings all set in the same dystopian universe! Once Upon A Time meets La Femme Nikita in the first book, Gathering Frost, a romantic dystopian reimagining of Sleeping Beauty!

A Dance of Dragons is a young adult fantasy adventure perfect for fans of Throne of Glass, Graceling, and Game of Thrones.

The A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle is free!

About The Author

Bestselling author Kaitlyn Davis writes young adult fantasy novels under the name Kaitlyn Davis and contemporary romance novels under the name Kay Marie.

Always blessed with an overactive imagination, Kaitlyn has been writing ever since she picked up her first crayon and is overjoyed to share her work with the world. When she's not daydreaming, typing stories, or getting lost in fictional worlds, Kaitlyn can be found indulging in some puppy videos, watching a little too much television, or spending time with her family.

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