Up to Me - Page 23/51

“Of course.  Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“No, I think that ship has sailed.”

I turn my head slightly and bite his flat male nipple.

“Ouch!  Keep doing that and you’ll get the best damn spanking you’ve ever had.”

“I’ve never been spanked before, so the bar is set very low.”

“Well, that’ll be the first thing on the agenda when I get you back home then.”

I lean further back.  “Get me back home?  Where am I going?”

Cash sighs.  “Your mother’s house.  It’s the safest place for you right now.”

I push out of his arms.  “What?  You can’t be serious!  There are a dozen places I can think of right off the top of my head that would be safe and give me a reasonable expectation of retaining my sanity.  Why in the world would you want me there?”

“Because there is a recent trail to almost everyone else in your life.  Everyone except her.  You haven’t talked to her in how long?”

“A couple years, but that’s not the point.”

“That’s exactly the point.  Where else would you be less expected to go?”

My mind goes completely blank, probably because he’s right.

Dammit!

“Fine, but you’ll have to let me drive myself.  She would never understand something like this.”

Already, Cash is shaking his head.  “Nope. Sorry.  Gavin will be taking you and staying with you until it’s time to bring you back.”

“What?  No way!  If I have to take someone, why can’t it be you?”  The more I think of it, the more I like that scenario.  That way, Cash would be sure to be safe.

“Gavin is the most…capable one of us.  You’ll be safe with him, no matter what comes up.”

“Are you expecting an army of mafia bandits to accost me at my mother’s house?”

“I’m not expecting anything.  But I’m going to be prepared for…whatever.”

“If Gavin’s the most capable one, maybe you should send him to make the trade with Nash.”

“I have to go. I have to do this.  I can’t trust Nash with it. I need to make sure it gets done and it gets done right.  I can’t have them threatening you, Olivia.  This has to stop.”

“But…but…”

I can’t think of a single argument other than I want him with me and I want him to be safe.  Neither of those are enough to change his mind, though.

“This is the best way.  The only way.  Just trust me.  Can you do that?”

Cash’s head is tilted slightly to the side and he’s looking deep into my eyes.  He’s so sincere.

I feel the sting of tears at the backs of my eyes.  With a fist lodged in my throat, I don’t even try to speak.  I just nod and drop my eyes to Cash’s mouth.

Tenderly, he pulls me back into his arms.  He strokes my hair and rubs circles on my back.  “I’ll keep you safe.  I promise.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I murmur against his chest.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cash

The ride to the hotel with Olivia is a special kind of torture.  Even after devouring her an hour ago, I still feel that familiar twitch in my dick when her hands stray too low on my stomach.  With my eyes wide open, I can still picture her tiny hands wrapped around my shaft, picture her lips closing over the glistening tip.

And thoughts like that aren’t helping.

The other thing that makes it torture is knowing that I’m leaving her in someone else’s hands.  I hate that.  I told her Gavin is the most capable, which is probably true from a technical standpoint.  But I feel like there is no one that would risk more for her, no one else who would care as much for her safety as I would.  As I do.

But it has to be done.  My presence alone brings danger right to her doorstep.  And that’s unacceptable.  Until I get this under control, this is the best thing for her.

Even if it doesn’t feel like the best thing for me.

********

Olivia is quiet all the way through the lobby, in the elevator and into the room.  She doesn’t say a word as she packs what few things she’d taken out of her bag back into it.  I feel the need to lighten things up for her. I don’t want her leaving on this note.  I don’t want either one of us leaving on this note.

Before she zips her bag, I pull out a pair of her panties and hold them up. 

“Can I keep these?  I promise they won’t end up strung up in the bar.”

“Give me those,” she says halfheartedly, reaching for them.

I jerk them away from her grasping fingers.

“No. I think I’ve earned at least one pair.”

“So you like girl’s underwear, huh? I never would’ve guessed it.”

“They don’t make ‘em big enough for what I’d have to put in them,” I tease.

She grins at that and replies, “Fine.  Keep them. I think I’ve got plenty to last me for a while.”

I peek inside her bag.  “Oh, yeah.  You’re good.  I mean, you won’t be changing them nearly as often without me around.”  I give her my most devilish grin and feel gratified when her cheeks turn rosy.

“That’s probably true. In fact, now that I think about your effect on my underwear, you probably owe me several pair.  I seem to remember a couple pair getting torn.”

“Mmm, that’s right.  How could I forget?  I’m surprised your dad didn’t hear all that moaning you were doing.”

Her mouth drops open and her cheeks burn a little brighter.  “Maybe that was you.  I seem to remember you being extremely excited.”

“Baby, I was very excited.  You do all kinds of delicious things to me.  Which makes me want to do all kinds of delicious things to you.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you did.”

“Listen, why don’t you just ‘accidentally’ leave all these at your mother’s house?  If you come home without any, I promise I’ll make sure you don’t miss them for one second.”

“Commando’s not my thing.  Now Ginger on the other hand…”

“Oh, God!” I exclaim, closing my eyes and turning my head.

“What?  Ginger’s gorgeous!”

“If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“What’s ‘that sort of thing’?”

“Well, she’s just so…blond and so…plastic and so…feline.”

Olivia laughs.  “I thought guys liked that kind of thing.”

“Some do.”

“Well evidently you do, too.  Taryn is all those things, too, only Ginger has a personality.”

“Okay, then I used to like that kind of thing.  Now I like your kind of thing.  It’s the very best kind of thing.  Makes all other kinds of things look like shit.”

“Well, far be it for me to cause you to conjure mental images of shit without panties.”

“Can we not talk about shit and panties in the same sentence?”