“Why not now?” I groan. “I don’t want to wait.”
He chuckles. Taking my hand he puts it on his dick. His extremely hard dick.
“I want you too, trust me. But I want to take my time with you, and I need to leave right now.”
“You should have come over last night,” I complain. My hand was still on his groin and the heat coming from it was almost burning my hand.
“You were mad at me yesterday. I was giving you time to cool down,” he says, taking my hand and holding it in his. I kind of wanted to touch his penis some more.
“I’ll probably be mad at you every day. I read that angry sex can be good too.”
He laughs, his body shaking with the effort. “We aren’t having angry sex for your first time.”
“Second?” I ask hopefully.
He shakes his head, eyes dancing with amusement. “I decide when, not you.”
I pout.
Dane pushes me down on the bed, bracing himself over me.
“What?” I ask as he studies me.
“You,” he murmurs.
“Me what?” I breathe.
“You aren’t what I was expecting.”
His eyes flash with an emotion I can’t pinpoint. I don’t know how to respond but we both stay there like that, our gazes connected, emotions flashing between us without words said.
A knock on my door makes us both jump.
“Dane, I know you’re in there,” comes a dry voice.
My father.
I cringe, but Dane just grins. “I’ll see you soon.”
Another kiss, this one quicker, and then he’s gone.
“Don’t be sad Olivia, you still have me,” Regan says, smiling.
“I know, thank you for keeping me company Regan,” I tell him, flashing him a grin before looking back down at the vegetables I was cutting. I was bored and I needed a distraction. Helping in the kitchen was only one of the tasks that I’d taken on today. I hand him a piece of carrot then finish up the rest. When I’m done, I look down at him, munching away noisily.
“What do you want to do now?” I ask.
He perks up. “Climb some trees?”
I look down at my dress. “Okay but let me get changed first.”
“I’ll wait outside,” he says, running out of the room. Grinning at his excitement, I head to my room to change. When I feel someone watching me, I sigh and spin around.
“Why have you been following me all day?” I ask Lars.
He shrugs. “Dane’s orders.”
“What were your orders exactly? I’m walking to my room and back. How much trouble could I possibly get into?”
Gina chooses that moment to walk up to us. Her face is pale and she’s trembling. “I need Dane.”
Lars and I share a look. “He’s not here.”
Gina whimpers, and I find myself stepping towards her. “What do you need us to do?”
She wraps her arms around me and starts sobbing, her tears wetting my dress. Patting her back awkwardly, I look up helplessly at Lars. “Did any psychologists survive the apocalypse?”
I can tell he’s trying not to laugh and I don’t appreciate it.
“I’m sure Lars would like you hold you until you feel better,” I tell her.
Lars shakes his head.
I narrow my eyes at him threateningly.
He grins and crosses his arms. “Wasn’t in my job description. Only had to keep an eye on you.”
“Yeah well I’m comforting my fiancé’s ex-girlfriend, I’m a little traumatized. If you’re meant to keep me safe you’re failing. Or was it only physical not mental harm?”
Gina lifts her head. “Dane and I didn’t date.”
“So I’ve heard. So what was that?” I ask her, frowning.
“Panic attack,” she murmurs, looking down.
“Do you feel better now?” I ask quietly.
She doesn’t answer.
I look to Lars but he’s no help whatsoever.
“I have to get changed and then go outside to watch Regan play. Do you want to come with me?”
She lifts her head at me and smiles, nodding and wiping her tears away.
Christ.
She really was a beautiful girl. All big blue eyes and brown hair, with little freckles peppering her nose.
“Okay then,” I tell her. “Follow me.”
I couldn’t just leave her here, crying and vulnerable. Dane wasn’t here, and he cared for this girl. She was one of my people, I couldn’t leave her to be miserable alone, having panic attacks or whatever else she was going through. Post-traumatic stress? Something obviously set her off, because she wasn’t like this all the time.
We walk to my room in silence, side by side, Lars following behind.
Before Dane, I was a loner.
Now I had a fucking entourage.