“I get that. God knows I have no interest in the soap business.”
I laughed. “What do you want to do?”
“I’m not sure yet,” he said, swirling the last little bit of scotch left in his glass before tossing it back. “Mostly I just want to have fun. You want another drink?”
“Sure. Do you think we need to make an appearance at the party? It’s almost six.”
“Fuck the party. I’ll be right back.” He took my glass and headed out of the room, returning with two more generous pours a few minutes later.
I have no idea how much time passed, but by the time we finished our second drink, the sun had gone down, we’d switched on a lamp, and we were sitting on the floor between the two beds, laughing about the rubber snake incident.
“Someday I’m going to get you back for that,” I told him, setting my empty glass on the nightstand. “You better lock your door tonight.”
“I’d never lock you out.”
Our eyes met, and my breath caught in my chest.
“So are we ever going to talk about it?” he asked.
“Talk about what?”
“That night in my room.”
My face immediately felt flushed. “Why do we need to talk about it?”
“Because I have questions.”
“What do you want to know?”
“For one thing, why me? For real.”
“I told you. I needed someone I could trust.” I hesitated, figuring I was just tipsy enough to admit the truth. “Also, I was attracted to you.”
“Aha!” He looked smug. “I fucking knew it.”
“Congratulations.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Do you still regret it, like you said?”
I sighed. “I did, after you were so mean at the Christmas party. But now … I guess not. I mean, I don’t like that it messed up our friendship for three years, but I suppose the event happened exactly like I wanted it to. And in the end, I’m glad it was you.”
He smiled, and it sent something warm and tingly up my spine. “Good. So did you have sex with that guy Dean?”
I narrowed my eyes. Just when I felt affectionate toward him, he had to ruin it. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m curious.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“Was he better than me?”
Rolling my eyes, I started to laugh. “Jesus Christ, Oliver. Are you going to ask me whose dick was bigger?”
“No.” And then a second later he puffed up his chest. “Wait, was mine bigger? It was, wasn’t it?”
That made me laugh even harder. He was so predictable. “Sorry,” I wheezed. “I don’t remember.” It was a lie—Oliver’s had been bigger. Maybe it was simply that he was my first, but in my memory, he was bigger than all three of the guys I’d been with since him. The best kisser too. By far.
“Did he make you come?” Oliver demanded, setting his empty glass on the nightstand. He was clearly worked up about this.
“Uh, no, he didn’t.” I paused. “But then, neither did you.”
“I didn’t?” He seemed genuinely surprised, which set me off again.
Shaking my head, I grabbed my stomach and giggled uncontrollably. “No. Sorry. Although, in your defense, I’m not sure you had time. It was over too quickly.”
His jaw dropped, then he clenched it. “Give me another chance,” he demanded. “Right now.”
“What?” I stared at him, trying to catch my breath. “Are you crazy?”
“No. I’m totally serious, Chloe. You have to give me another chance.”
“Why?”
“Because what if girls have been faking it with me? What if I have no idea what I’m doing? What if I’m a clueless, selfish asshole in bed? I need you to teach me.”
“I’m sure you’re fine.” I got to my feet, feeling like I needed some air. “Let’s go down to the party.”
“Don’t go!” He jumped up and grabbed my arm. “Listen, you’d be doing me a favor, just like I did you a favor. Then we’d be even.”
I stared at him. “Are you drunk?”
“No. Are you?”
“No.”
“Then let me give you an orgasm.”
“You’re out of your mind.” I shook him off and went for the door, but he vaulted over Frannie’s bed and blocked it.
“You’re not leaving until I make you come.”
His words were turning me on, but I couldn’t give in. “Oliver, we just spent three years not talking because we had sex.”
“Worth it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Get out of my way, asshole.”
“No.”
There was no chance of my out-muscling him. I thought about kicking him in the balls, but wasn’t sure I could stoop so low. There had to be a way to outsmart him. Turning around, I ran over to my bag, which was on the floor at the foot of my bed, and reached inside to grab my phone. I’d text Frannie, and then—“Hey!”
Oliver had tried to swipe the phone from me, but I was quick enough to switch it to the other hand and keep it out of his reach.
“Knock it off!” I yelled as he struggled to get at it. I jumped up on my bed, bounced off Frannie’s, and went running around the perimeter of the room.
He cut me off by the dresser and I shrieked as he made another grab at my phone, managing to duck beneath his arms and make a run for the door. But just as I closed my fingers around the handle and pulled, his hand shot out above me and slammed it shut.
“God, you are such a jerk!” I yanked on the handle but it was no use. He had me prisoner.
His front pressed up against my back. My cheek was on the door. Both of us were breathing hard. “You want this,” he said. “Admit it. You wanted me then and you want me now.”
“I want you to let me out of here, you arrogant son of a bitch,” I seethed through clenched teeth. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”
“So scream.” His voice was low in my ear, and then his mouth was on my neck. “Text your sister. Call for help. Call 911, for fuck’s sake.” One hand snuck around my waist and slid down the front of my dress. “I won’t stop you.”
I knew I should say no, but his tongue was doing things on my throat and his fingers were edging beneath the hem of my shift and wandering up my inner thighs. Then there was his voice, all deep and intense.
“But I don’t think you really want to go. I think you want to see what it’s like to be with me again.” His fingertips rubbed me over my thin lace panties. “I’m much more patient now. And I’ve got all kinds of new tricks.”
“You do?”
“Mmhm.” He turned me around, putting my back against the door. His lips hovered above mine. “I bet I can make you come within five minutes.” His expression was cocky. “Care to bet against me?”
I bit my tongue, refusing to reply.
“So stubborn. Nothing ever changes.” He kissed me, and I felt myself sinking. Then it was Oliver sinking—to his knees in front of me. Pushing up my dress. Pulling down my underwear.