Rescue Breathing Read online

  “You'll come for me, Olivia. It's mine. Give it to me,” I grunt. All tenderness has been replaced with a sense of urgency.

  Olivia shatters into a million pieces with an orgasm so strong she falls forward, mewling. “Mmmmm Owen!”

  I grab hold of her hips as she falls and I continue to thrust into her with such force it pushes her forward up the bed until finally I come with a loud grunt and something that mildly resembles her name. I pulse inside of her, filling the condom as my fingers grip her like a vise. I'll no doubt leave marks on her skin. Finally, I slip out of her, collapsing next to her on the bed.

  Olivia is on her stomach, eyes closed. “What just happened?” she whispers.

  “Correct me if I'm wrong,” I say, panting, my forearm covering my eyes, “but I think I just rocked your world. Because you, my dear, sexy Olivia, definitely rocked mine. Holy fuck,” I laugh. I tilt my head to look over at Olivia, who has her face buried in the sheets, still recovering—I think. “You okay?” I ask, shifting to lie on my side.

  Olivia groans, turns to face me, and takes a deep breath. “Aside from my insides being stretched completely out of shape, I think I'll survive. Are you always this good in bed or am I just the lucky recipient of some of your best work?”

  I smirk as she flips onto her back and stretches her arms above her head. My eyes gaze over her body, and honestly, she takes my breath away. She's unlike anyone I've ever encountered, and that realization causes a pang of panic. Whatever I'm feeling, these emotions are a little too intense for me and I need to put some distance between us. Play it cool, Owen. Otherwise she'll think you're an asshole.

  I get up from the bed and walk towards the bathroom. “Why don't I see you tomorrow and you can find out for yourself,” I say confidently as I remove my condom, tie it in a knot and toss it in the garbage.

  As I wash my hands, I hear rustling in the other room. When I come out, Olivia is dressed in a tank top and boxer shorts looking like she's ready for bed. She's sipping at the wine left in her glass from earlier. She watches me as I slip on my boxers, despite the fact that I've got a semi from seeing her standing there in her barely there clothes and rumpled hair.

  “Can I have one of those?” I ask, nodding toward her glass of wine.

  Olivia smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She pours me a glass and hands it to me.

  “So…” she says nervously.

  I take a long sip of wine, trying to process all that just transpired. “This is good,” I say, tilting my glass towards her and purposely avoiding the elephant in the room.

  The silence between us is awkward and weird. Eventually, I place my glass on the dresser behind her and stand before her. Grabbing her hips, I pull her against me.

  “Does everything you wear make you look completely fuckable? Because this little number you're wearing… Well, you can tell what it's doing to me.”

  Olivia smiles and cocks her head to the side, and it's fucking adorable. She knows I'm stalling. “You never answered my question,” she says, getting back to the point.

  “Breakfast. Tomorrow.”

  Olivia gives me a smile and looks genuinely relieved. “Breakfast would be great. I'm not speaking at the conference tomorrow but I am attending a few talks. So…”

  I pull her close again and nuzzle her neck. She smells like sweat and sex and me. It's intoxicating. I kiss a trail up to her mouth and nibble at her lips.

  “Breakfast it is. And after breakfast, I'll bring you back to your room and prove to you that I'm always this good in bed,” I murmur before bending down to give her a soft, wet kiss.

  Olivia moans into my mouth but then quickly pulls away, thinking better of going for another round. “Well…you, um, must be exhausted.”

  “Right,” I say, mentally groaning. I press my forehead against hers and attempt to collect my thoughts. “You've had a long day too. I should go.” I take a step back and gather my clothes, which are strewn across the hotel floor.

  Olivia watches in silence as I put on my clothes. After I'm dressed, she comes up to me and stretches up on her tiptoes to try and finger-style my rumpled hair.

  “Before I go…” I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and take a picture of her little black dress in a puddle on the floor. “There. I'm keeping that one.”

  Olivia laughs confidently. “Posting it on Instagram?” she asks.

  “Maybe,” I reply as I grab my sports coat and walk towards the door. “I'm pretty proud of that.” I give her a wink, and she throws her head back in another throaty laugh.

  With my hand on the doorknob, I turn to look back at Olivia. “Thanks for a very memorable night.” I let go of the door and take Olivia's head in my hands, kissing her forehead and then her soft lips. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

  “Me too,” she says faintly. “Goodnight, Owen.”

  * * *

  I step out of Olivia's door and make my way down the hall towards the elevator. I run a hand over my face, trying to rein in my feelings about what happened. What was I thinking scheduling breakfast with her? Hit it and quit it—that's been my motto. Or has been my motto. I press the call button for the elevator and pull out my phone to text Travis.

  Best sex ever. On all levels. Is that a sign?

  As I'm contemplating sending the message and being subjected to copious amounts of criticism from my best friend, the elevator doors open. I look up from my phone and see Monica, the blonde from the bar, and my buddy Marc making out in the corner of the car. I wait for them to acknowledge me, but they're pretty absorbed in their make-out session. Marc has his hand up Monica's skirt and the buttons on her shirt are undone, exposing her white bra complete with a nipple popping out.

  I clear my throat, attempting to get their attention. Monica's eyes fly open in surprise and immediately soften when she sees me standing in the elevator door. They stop kissing and both turn toward me, failing miserably at righting their clothes.

  “I was hoping I'd see you again tonight,” Monica purrs. “Marc was just going to show me his room. He says he has something very big to show me.”

  I look at Marc, confusion written all over my face. “You're staying here?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

  Marc swings around, lifts an eyebrow, and smirks. “I am tonight,” he replies, pulling a hotel keycard out of his back pocket.

  “Ahh, right,” I say. “Well, I'm sure what he wants to show you is very impressive.”

  Monica starts to laugh her horrible, annoying, nails-on-a-chalkboard, cringe-worthy laugh. It makes me shudder and not in a good way.

  “You're so funny! Isn't he funny, Marc?” she laughs.

  “Yeah, a regular Dane Cook,” he replies dryly, clearly annoyed. Marc takes hold of Monica's hand and steps off the elevator. “Have a good night, Maxi,” Marc calls over his shoulder as leads Monica down the long, opulent hallway.

  “'Night, guys. Have fun.” I wave as I step into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby.

  “Wait! Wait!” Monica cries, pulling Marc back towards the elevator.

  I place a hand on the elevator's sensors, propping the doors open.

  “Why don't you come back to the room and party with us?” Monica asks, giving me a pouty duck face.

  Surprised, I dart my eyes to Marc, who's looking at Monica with equal surprise. Marc slowly closes his eyes and looks my way. “Yeah, man. It'll be like old times,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  Monica reaches out and grabs my hand. “Come on, Owen. It'll be fun. I promise,” she says seductively.

  Forty-eight hours ago, under different circumstances, I would have joined them. Now, I have zero interest. I pry my hand away from Monica and step back into the elevator.

  “I'm going to take a pass,” I call out to them as I frantically push the “close door” button. “See you tomorrow, Marc.” I shout as the doors slowly start to close. I lean my head back against the wall of the elevator and close my eyes. “What a night.”

&
nbsp; CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Olivia

  Sunlight filters through the curtains and I groan as I open my eyes. Oh holy hangover. My head is pounding. I sit up slowly and look over to the bedside table to see a condom wrapper and a glass of water. I'm grateful for the glass of water…uncertain how I feel about the condom wrapper. Memories of last night flood my mind—and subsequently the area between my thighs. That was really awesome sex. Amazing sex. Bite-your-lip-and-squeeze-your-thighs-together-just-thinking-about-it sex. I take a deep breath. I need to try and get my head straight and appreciate last night for what it was. A drunken interlude—one that will probably not be repeated. I need to just enjoy that it happened and immediately get rid of the pit-in-my-stomach feeling I have right now that is generally reserved for school age hookups at school dances. My phone buzzes and I pick it up. Two missed texts from Charley.

  I fucking told you it would be awesome!

  Way to go, Liv! I want details!

  And another a half hour later:

  You are fucking with me not giving me details.

  I'm assuming you are in a post-coital coma.

  Call me tomorrow! Love you!

  I smile at her texts. She is so cute. And so persistent.

  The third text is from Owen. Oh, he texted me this morning. My stomach does a flip and my heart clenches.

  I believe I owe you breakfast this morning.

  I'm going to the Starbucks at 4th & Seneca.

  I hope I don't sit there by myself looking like an idiot.

  I smile. The time on the text is 9:00 a.m. I quickly look at the clock. 9:45.

  Fuck.

  I quickly grab a fresh pair of underwear and a bra and slip on yoga pants, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I throw my hair into a messy bun on top of my head, grab my wallet, and race out the door, headed for Starbucks.

  I run through the lobby, stopping abruptly in front of the revolving door. I have no idea where this place is. I spin on my heels, scanning the room for help. Shit! I'm going to miss him! I spot the concierge desk and race to it, pushing other patrons to the side.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I say to them all, not really meaning it. Breathlessly, I lean forward, my face inches from that of the concierge. “Starbucks…” I huff, “Fourth and Seneca...please… Desperate.”

  The concierge grins at me and pulls a paper map from his desk. He quickly draws a bright red marker line, showing me the route. It's two blocks away. He needed to draw me a map for that?! As he finishes, I grab the paper from his hand and start for the door.

  “Thanks!” I yell back at him with a hand wave.

  I run the short distance to the coffee house, stopping a store away to quickly compose myself and attempt to get my breath back so I don't look like I've been running. I get to the door and walk in, stopping just inside to scan the room. For a moment, I don't see him and my shoulders slump. I missed him, damn it. I knew it! It's so like me to blow an opportunity.

  But then…I see him. He's sitting at a table in the back, two plush seats next to a small round table. He is in jeans and V-neck sweater, and his legs are crossed with his ankle propped on his knee. He has a little five-o'clock shadow and it looks insanely sexy on him. His hair is messy, his sun-kissed waves falling over his forehead. Yes, I have documented all that in my mind in the space of a second. It occurs to me as I assess him that this man completely undid me last night. Just from looking at him, it's hard to not imagine where his hands were, his mouth, his…yum.

  He is carefully folding a newspaper, but he smiles when he sees me at the door. He cocks his head to the side—an invitation to his table. I walk toward him, pushing strands of my hair that have fallen during my run back into my messy bun.

  He stands when I get to the table, slipping an arm around my waist to pull me in for a chaste kiss on the lips. He looks into my eyes and whispers, “Morning,” before letting me go. I blush and move to sit in the chair opposite him. The amount of heat that has suddenly flooded my body thanks to this minimal contact is a little unnerving.

  “Good morning to you,” I murmur, giving him a shy smile.

  “You look beautiful despite your lack of sleep. Do you always look this good first thing in the morning?” he asks, seeming to be really interested in my answer.

  “Um, I'm not sure I'd agree that I look good, but thank you for the compliment,” I laugh.

  We sit and look at each other, awkwardly for me, for a moment. Finally I take a deep breath and stand. “I'm going to go grab myself a coffee and something to eat. Can I get you something?”

  He smiles and shakes his head, moving his gaze toward the two cups of coffee and empty plate in front of him. “I had something while I was waiting.” He's smirking at me. Right…waiting.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I kind of overslept.”

  “No worries. I'm sure it was for a good reason,” he smirks and throws me a devilish wink. “Besides, you caught me before I left.” He smiles warmly at me. “Go get yourself something to eat.”

  I nod and head toward the coffee counter. I order myself a coffee and a scone and, after preparing my drink, bring them back to the table. He has been watching me the whole time, his chin resting on his steepled hands. How, you wonder, do I know he's been watching me? Because I can feel it. I can feel him, his eyes. His eyes are like an extension of his arms, and it's kind of amazing. He's not touching me physically, but he is with his gaze. I wonder what he's thinking right now. Wonder if I want to know what he's thinking.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I ask as I sit down.

  He sits back and uncrosses his legs. “I was just wondering what you had planned today?”

  Oh, that's an easy question. “Well, I was supposed to present today but it got pushed back to tomorrow. So I think I'll just go to a few poster sessions. I'm a little exhausted from watching presenters so I'll try that, see if it sparks my interest.” I take a sip of my coffee and pop a piece of my scone in my mouth.

  He watches my mouth intently as I chew, and without thinking, I lick my lips. His breath hitches. Huh—a response. Wasn't expecting that. I take another bite, this time making more of a show of eating it seductively. He grins, knowing what I'm doing, but not commenting on it.

  “What are you doing today?” I ask him.

  “I'm going to see Travis and Lucy's place in Bellevue. I promised them I would go see it before I leave.” He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. “What are you up to tonight?”

  Tonight? “Um, actually Charley and I are going to take another shot at going out. She has some club she wants to go to. She likes to dance. Actually I like to dance,” I laugh nervously. “What are you crazy boys going to do tonight?”

  “You probably won't believe this, but we're going to a club that has dancing. We're going to Room 73. I haven't been but I hear it's a lot of fun. You and Charley should come join us.” He seems very eager about this, his voice lilting at the end as if anxious.

  “Oh, you don't want us leeching on to your boys' night out. Aren't you all going to be picking up chicks and trying to tempt Travis into some naughty blowjob in a corner?”

  He laughs loudly. “Um, yeah, I treasure my balls too much to let that happen. Lucy is one of the most beautiful yet scariest women I know. I won't cross her.”

  I laugh with him. I like his description of her. It's respectful and caring, and it says a great deal about him.

  “As for the other, well… My friends may be looking for something—or someone—to do tonight. But I'm pretty satisfied with what I've found in Seattle already. So, no, I won't be doing that either.” He smiles warmly at me and I melt. Wow. Seriously?

  “Oh, well that's good to hear,” I murmur, blushing again. Why am I blushing so much?

  “Olivia, I had a great time last night.” I try not to look shocked, but I am. “Why are you making that face?” he laughs, “Is it that unbelievable to you that I enjoyed last night?”

  “No, no, I just… You know… Some guys...On
e-night stand...That kind of thing.”

  He laughs. “I'm not making a lifelong commitment here, but I had a good time and I'd like to have more good times with you—if you're on board with that.” He tips his head down to look me in the eyes. “You're easy to talk to and I like our banter. You make me laugh. I like that too. And well, in bed…” He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I really like that.”

  I can't help but giggle. “Yes, that was very nice.”

  “Anyway, come with us tonight. I can't dance worth a shit, but if it means making an ass out of myself for a song or two to get your body next to mine, I'm all for it.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his legs again.

  I think this over for a second. Charley would be all over this. And frankly, what's wrong with going out and having some fun? I could at least get some action the rest of the weekend. “I'll ask Charley, but yeah, that sounds like fun.”

  After I finish my drink and take the last bite of my scone, I dust off my hands and stand, getting ready to leave. Owen stands too, holding his arm out, gesturing for me to go before him to the door. We step out into the Seattle morning and I stop, turning to look at him.

  “So…” I say. He smiles down at me, close enough for me to smell his cologne mixed with his shampoo. I am totally caught in his spell.

  “So…” he repeats.

  I take one tentative step closer and his smile fades, his eyes becoming hooded. I place my hands on his shoulders and lean up on my tippy-toes. In an uncharacteristically bold move, I reach up to kiss him, pausing before I get to his lips, looking up at him. He slowly leans forward and closes the space between us. His lips lightly brush over mine. We stay like this, lips barely touching as I run my hands down his arms. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me toward him. His mouth opens as he leans in, kissing me more deeply, his tongue probing into my mouth, and I let it. We nibble at each other for an all-too-short minute before he pulls away. I take a deep breath, regaining my conscious thought.