Olivia — I'm dangerous, and not just to your cunt

OLIVIA

He pulled away from me forcefully, staggering backwards.

"Shit. Dumb ass," he cursed under his breath.

A pang went through my chest, until he said, "What the fuck is wrong with me?" and my heart soared.

The strain on his face. The loss of control.

He stood up straight and started tucking his shirt back into his pants. Lustful eyes trailed up and down my body as he worked to steady his breathing.

His facial expression was art in the making. Raw. Unapologetic. Hungry.

"No fuck what Will thinks. Watch your mouth. You're my sister, Olive. He's my brother. You're my family. I can't be the guy you're fucking, angel. You're too important to me for that," he said, imploring me to understand as he let me down gently.

Why did I think last night meant things would be different now?

Mr. Inconsequential was a one and done kind of guy.

I knew that.

I let him fuck me anyway.

The pang returned to my chest ten fold. My pulse dropped. The breath hitched in my throat.

"What the fuck was I last night, Harmon? Available?" I threw back at him sharply like some fucking clueless cliché who didn't know his reputation.

What was I saying? We were the same, Harmon and I. Olivia Hunter usually begged for them to leave.

That was why we got along so well. We were both sluts who used others like toys.

I just never thought that I could be that to him.

"Precious," he said, reaching out to cup my cheek like he was used to doing.

I turned my face away from him with a frown, unable to keep looking.

Here come the fucking feelings.

Olivia Hunter knew fucking… and that wasn't what we did.

See because no one else had ever made my body sing like that before.

Stolen looks across the office. Late business dinners during which we closed impossible deals together. Falling asleep together on the couch at the mansion.

We were an effortless, perfect team.

If there was ever any doubt, last night obliterated it.

I was smitten. Besotted with the one man who didn't want me.

Watching him let his hand drop instead of touching me more was insult to injury.

Glimpses of guilt flashed under the heat in his eyes. Was there a little fear in there too?

I must have looked too hard, unable not to despite the lump in my throat, because the unyielding Harmon Chancellor's gaze lowered.

"You're perfect Olive, but you're not mine. There's more to me than you know, baby girl. I'm fucking dangerous and not just to your cunt," he said with a heavy sigh, unfolding his sleeves.

I watched him turn into the flawless Harmon I was used to as he put his cufflinks back on. By the time he slid his jacket on, Mr. Inconsequential's soulless eyes were back and I was shattered.

One. More. Fucking. Time.

"I've known you for half of my existence. If I don't know you, I don't know anyone Harmon," I said matter of factly, feeling vulnerable and small as I hugged myself, desperate not to cry.

"You're not going with me to Cupid's Cove. End of discussion," he said, that cool finality that I always thought was so sexy deepening the sting of rejection.

I was so stupid in love with him that somehow he still had me transfixed.

Even now, I was rooted to the spot before him. Getting lost in the idea of drawing closer.

The scent of his cologne. How quickly he'd dressed himself again, not a hair out of place.

I was so taken in by him, like a hypnotized fool.

For a moment there, our eyes locked and my heart convinced me that I heard wrong and he cared about me like a lover should.

He didn't though. My crush was unrequited.

An eight year age gap.

He was the most powerful man at the company, second only to Billy.

Despite my last name, I was just his intern, fresh out of business school. Even asking me to work for him was probably just him pitying me.

Who could blame him for seeing nothing but a child when he looked at me?

I was wrapping my arms around his neck again before I knew what I was doing.

This much he had always let me do. My tormentor would console me. At this point, it wasn't even about the sex anymore.

I just wanted him to hold me.

To say it was okay to be with him. And damn it, no one held me quite like he did.

Was it easy to play the whore for him?

Yes.

That way, we could both pretend it wasn't happening… whatever it was.

Maybe there was no it.

This thing between us, had I made it all up in my head?

"Harmon, can't we just—" I spoke with trembling lips as my mouth neared the collar of his shirt, a dull ache lingering in my chest.

You really would think me a fool if you knew the full extent of it, wouldn't you daddy?

I want to be with you always. In every way.

I want to be yours.

You can't say that shit to Mr. Inconsequential, can you?

"Daddy doesn't think with his dick, baby girl. I decide who I fuck and it's not going to be you. You're staying in LA," he said sternly, grabbing a firm hold of my arms and dragging them away from his body.

Hooded eyes, refusing to meet mine again.

Just as well.

Who wanted him knowing about the tears in mine?

If he saw how pathetic I really was, would he pull away altogether? Reassign me? Cut me out of his life?

Fucked up as our situation was, that I just couldn't stand.

So I made a calm exit, headed straight for the elevator and went home, where I spent the rest of the day crying my eyes out.

Perks of being a billionaire's sister, who just fucked her boss?

No one came looking when you skipped work.

Later that night, I decided to join my friends at a frat party to drown my sorrows.

Barely two hours into the party…

"Graduation body shots!" I screamed out into the crowd.

Was I seeing double as I laid myself down on the table and lifted up my shirt? Why yes, yes I was.

"Shit. Did I call Harmon… Or not?" I blurted out as unfamiliar lips approached my navel. "You might want to reconsider if I did," I told beefy fuckboy number one of the evening.

"Harmon can wait his turn, just like the rest of us," fuck boy number one declared.

"I'm not really the patient type," Harmon said, showing up out of nowhere like a fucking summoned demon and forcing his way to the front of the crowd I had drawn.

Shit.

Yes to the drunk dialing then. Wonderful.

Harmon held out a big hand to me and said with an irked sigh, "Come."