The Opportunist
Page 37

“Why are you being so sensitive? I don’t say what you want to hear and now you’re sulking?”
That does it. He takes the exit, swerving to the right at the last minute. I hear a grunt from Pickles as she’s thrown across the backseat.
We are in the middle of nowhere and there is only trees and road ahead of us. Caleb zooms into the gates of what looks like a park. There are only three parking spaces and they are all deserted. He pulls into one and jerks on the brake. This place is really creepy. I fidget nervously and look at his face.
“What are we doing?” he asks again.
“I…” I look out of the window desperate for an escape. He’s trying to get me to talk about my feelings, something I can’t do with all of the lying going on. Despite my fear of the dark, I jump out of the car.
“Where are you going?” he demands, opening his door and following suit. Before I have the door shut, he walks around to where I am and corners me.
I try to push past him but he presses me against the door with his body and puts both hands on either side of my head. We are nose to nose, as he seethes at me.
“What. Are. We. Doing?” he demands.
I squirm, but there is nowhere to go. I place both of my hands on his chest. Why is he trying to milk this out of me anyway? I’d swear this is the old Caleb, not the gentle little fawn I’ve been dealing with.
“Okay, okay. But, you have to get out of my personal space…”
He relents a few inches and I use the opportunity to duck under his arm.
I ignore his calls and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. I am heading into complete darkness, but it seems better than the alternative. I need to think for a minute. I walk until I can no longer hear the hum of the highway. I am in the woods—no, I am in an orange grove. I recognize the fragrant white flowers that are peppering the trees. They smell like Caleb, of course, because everything in my freaking life has to be about Caleb? I kick a tree.
I can hear feet moving in the dirt behind me, so I stop. Might as well tell him everything now, so I square my shoulders and prepare to fight.
Caleb walks out of the darkness like a beautiful ghost. When he catches sight of me, he stops short. We stare at each other and then I cross my arms over my chest.
“What are we doing?” I repeat his question. “I am trying to escape my miserable, lonely life. I…” I take a deep breath before I continue. “I am a liar and a wicked person. I’ve lied to you, I—”
It takes him three seconds to reach where I am standing. I hear myself gasp as he pins me against a tree. He is inches from my face, his arms braced on the trunk to block my escape.
“Stop,” he says. “Just stop.”
I look at his eyes and look away. Why is he making everything so hard? I just want to get it out already…
"Look at me," he demands.
I do.
"You're making excuses and you’re playing games with me," he says.
"No—I…"
"Yes. You. Are. I don’t care what you’ve done. Just tell me how you feel."
He looks so angry I shrink back against the tree until I felt the bark digging into my back. He wants an honest answer, but I’m pretty sure you have to be an actual honest person to give one of those. I lick my lips, thinking…thinking. I have a million thoughts a day and they’re all about Caleb. All I have to do is make them come out of my mouth.
“I want you to kiss me.”
He doesn’t look surprised.
“What else?”
His lips— all I can see are his lips, so full and sensual. My breath is coming embarrassingly fast.
If I just lean a little bit forward, our lips will touch. But, I know from years of experience that he won’t give me what I want, until I give him what he wants.
My stubbornness kicks in. I turn my head to the side. He steers it back with a little swipe of his finger.
"Olivia...." he warns. His eyes are gunning holes in my head. I can feel the heat of his chest beneath my fingertips, and I know that his heart is beating fast like mine.
"Say it, Olivia. For once, damn-it, say it." He is looking at my lips-waiting. I think about lying. I don’t like how direct he’s suddenly become. I was perfectly comfortable playing games.
"I want…you to…” I search for the word and can’t find it. “Can you just kiss me first and then we’ll see how I feel?”
He does this thing where he puts his tongue between his teeth. He looks at my mouth like he’s considering it. I almost keel over on the spot.
He moves his hands, resting one forearm on the tree above my head and wrapping the other around my waist.
We are face to face with our foreheads touching. My breath is coming fast, my chest heaving in anticipation. I am a cliché; butterflies, tingling and heat swirling through me in the strongest form of desire I have ever experienced.
I have two fistfuls of his shirt, and I clench tighter. "What are you waiting for?"
Game playing, red-head loving, malingering fool!
He narrows his eyes and I want to kiss the creases that appear at their corners. His voice is gruff and exposed when he speaks.
"If I kiss you, I'm not going to stop.”
I shut my eyes. It’s a threat, but a good one.
"I won't ask you to.” I whisper it against his lips.
The moment I feel his lips brush against mine I want to die. He nips at my bottom lip and pulls back. My hands leave his chest and wrap around his neck.
“You said no games.”
He smiles against my mouth. I am on my tiptoes, pressed against every warm inch of him. One soft kiss… two…another nip; his kisses are a lot like his personality. He’s lots of teasing; alternating between fast and slow, hard and soft. I am just getting accustomed to his rhythm when his tongue slides in my mouth. I make an embarrassing gasping noise. He smiles again, and it is so sexy I kiss him harder.
A few more feathery, light kisses and then he comes at me full force. Our mouths crush together like two angry thunder clouds. His hands move up my abdomen.
I begin to attack back because I am mad too. I kiss him for all the times I never got to kiss him, and for the times he’s been kissing Leah instead of me. I kiss him because I ruined everything and I could have had this every day. He breaks to kiss the sensitive spot at the nape of my neck.