Life Support (The Breathe Series Book 2) (19 page)

NEARLY A MONTH AND a half after Olivia moved in, we are finally settling into our new normal routine. The oddly sized boxes that lined the living room wall have long been unpacked, flattened, and recycled; my bookshelves have never been so full. They’re not full of books, mind you, but instead, full of…stuff. I don’t remember most of these things at Olivia’s apartment in Chelsea, but she swears they were there.

One of the many upsides of having her for a roommate, besides the obvious reasons, is that I always have clean towels, which is pretty awesome. I still don’t know how she gets them to smell so damn good. They smell like her…and I like it. My old apartment has been girlified. Guess it’s a small price to pay for getting the girl.

Of no fault of our own, the last two weeks we have been absolutely swamped with work. One of the men in my company was out with the flu and ended up in the hospital for dehydration. Add to that, we had some guys out on vacation, so we were already running at an absolute minimum. I’ve been pulling double shifts every other night and the whacky schedule has me beat. As for Olivia, her research deadline on her most recent grant project got bumped up. My girl has been putting in long hours at her office and overtaken my office at the apartment as hers. She works into the early morning, crunching numbers and getting her research ready to present next week.

When I am home, I go to bed alone. I try to get her to come to bed with me, even if it’s just to snuggle and talk, although sex would be nice. With regret and, dare I say, longing, she turns me down in order to meet her deadline. I understand and am supportive and proud of what she’s doing, but I’m greedy and want my girlfriend back.

I usually come home just as Olivia is starting her day. After a quick kiss and nuzzle, we take turns with the shower. I lie on the bed while Olivia gets ready for her day and we take the opportunity to catch up on each other’s day, talk about the day ahead, and discuss anything that needs addressing. We feed each other bagels and coffee before Olivia runs out the door, and once the door is locked, I’m lights out for a few hours before tackling the rest of the day and my next shift.

Our nights have not been much of an improvement on our days. Monday, we tried to plan dinner together, but Olivia got home late. I ended up reverting to my bachelor days and had cereal for dinner. I was passed out in bed by the time Olivia finally came home.

Tuesday, we made it home around the same time. Olivia tried to piece a meal together from what little we had in the fridge. By the time she was ready to give up and order in, she found me asleep on the couch.

Wednesday night was more of the same, except that this time we both passed out on the couch. And last night, in a desperate effort to reconnect, we ended up naked in bed but couldn’t find the energy to do much more than touch each other and kiss—although making out with Olivia is pretty awesome.

We have kept in touch during the day with text messages and sexting, trying to keep ourselves connected. I know this crazy schedule is only for a short time, and in another week, our lives will return to normal, but I miss my girl.

Owen
: I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you desperately. Tell me something sexy.

Olivia
: I miss you too. So much, that I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me. I’m soaking wet.

Owen
: Fuck. You can’t begin to know how bad I want to taste you right now.

Olivia
: Are you hard for me?

Owen
: Like granite. Come here and help me out?

Olivia
: I wish I could...go stroke that glorious cock in the bathroom thinking about my lips around it.

Owen
: I almost just came in my pants.

Olivia
: LOL Better get to the bathroom.

After a quick meal, I settle into the couch to watch my favorite TV show. It feels like forever since I’ve had a night to kick up my feet and relax. I’ve been working nonstop at the firehouse, and tomorrow is my first day off in ten days. Olivia makes her way out of the kitchen and sits next to me on the couch. I instinctively wrap my arm around her as she settles in beside me. I’ve missed just being with her.

This isn’t exactly how I saw things going when I asked Olivia to move in with me. I thought we’d be fucking like porn stars every waking moment. It’s not that we don’t want to be fucking like our lives depend on it—believe me—we do. But our schedules just haven’t been jiving. Thing is, now that I have a moment to breathe, I just want to relax, have three fingers of scotch, and let my mind wander into nothingness.

While I flip the TV on to ESPN, Olivia curls her legs under her and snuggles into my side. Casually, she lifts up the edge of my faded DBag’s concert T-shirt and begins to draw lazy circles on my belly. I pull her tighter and to my side and give her a chaste kiss on her temple while Olivia rests her head on my chest and inhales deeply, breathing me in. This feels good. It feels right. Everything is as it should be—us together, absorbing each other and having a moment to relax.

Although I barely have enough energy to lift a glass of scotch to my mouth, I pull Olivia onto my lap and envelope her with my strong arms. I nuzzle my nose along the curve of her ear before lightly nipping at her earlobe. She mewls and places a hand on the back of my neck, her thumb and fingers massaging my skin.

“I’ve missed kissing you,” I murmur, dotting faint kisses along her jaw. “I’ve missed holding you like this. I’ve missed hearing you gasp when I touch you.” I delicately grasp Olivia’s breast and brush my thumb across a taut nipple. She inhales sharply at my touch and I can’t restrain my smile as I continue kissing down her neck. She loves it when I talk to her when we make love and she’s beginning to fall under my spell. We need this time to reconnect—sleep, relaxing and all else be damned.

“And I’ve missed your taste on my tongue and the way your eyes flutter when I bring you to the brink,” I continue. I lay Olivia back on the couch and hover above her, lowering myself to brush my lips across hers. We’re close enough to be connected, but far apart enough to tease.

“I’ve missed you too. Make me do all that, baby. Make me gasp and moan. Touch me. Taste me. Make love to me.”

I cover her open mouth with mine and slowly dip my tongue inside. Olivia captures it and gives it a few quick sucks before swirling her sweet tongue with mine. A deep groan rumbles at the back of my throat as I press my lips harder and more urgently to hers. My hand fumbles with the hem of her shirt as I push it up and cup the underside of her breast. This time, it’s Olivia who moans and shifts underneath me as I press my growing erection against her heat.

“God, I’ve missed this,” I growl as I push her shirt farther up her body so I can kiss the swell of her breast. “I need you, Liv,” I pant out as I tug the material of her bra down and capture her hardened nipple in my mouth.

In the background, I hear Olivia’s phone ringing and feel her body instantly stiffen beneath me. Disregarding the shift, I focus my attention on her other nipple, bathing it with my tongue.

“Owen…” Olivia whispers, placing her hands on my shoulders.

Ignoring her, I kiss down Olivia’s sternum to her flat stomach.

“Owen, I should get that,” she whimpers as her phone continues to ring.

“They can wait, babe. This is
much
more important,” I say as I begin to loosen the top button on her shorts.

As I place a smattering of kisses from her navel down to her pubic bone, the phone stops ringing and Olivia relaxes. She runs her fingers through my hair and exhales in a delighted sigh as I work my way farther down her body.

When Olivia’s phone starts to ring again, I mentally stab the asshole who is disrupting us.

“Owen, stop. I need to get that,” Olivia whines reluctantly.

“And I need you,” I counter and sweep my nose up the crotch of her underwear.

“I need you too, baby, but”—she pushes me off her and quickly gets to her feet—“it could be Roger with last-minute edits to my article. I need to take this. I’m sorry.” She grabs her phone off the kitchen table and answers the call. “Hey, Roger. What’s up?” She is breathless from our fooling around and it irritates me that
Roger
is hearing what Olivia sounds like when she’s turned on.

I make an attempt to distract her by removing my shirt. My hands run across my chest and travel down to my waist, untying the drawstring on my shorts. Olivia looks over at me and tries to give me her threatening stare, but right now, it looks more like a smirk.

Suddenly, her eyes go serious and she begins to pace. “What? No. No, you’re not keeping me from anything important. You have some ideas about the article?” she asks her editor as she makes her way down to the office and out of my presence.

Nothing important, huh?
I sigh heavily with defeat and settle back into the couch, left alone with a serious case of blue balls and a glass full of disappointment.

IT’S FRIDAY, FOUR P.M., and I feel like my eyes are going to fall out of my head. I’ve been staring at computer screens all week, small numbers no less, and I am completely spent. This week has been hell. I’m overworked, and much worse than that, I miss my man. Owen is what has balanced me since the day I met him. No matter how bad my days were, he was the yin to my yang. I miss my yin… I
need
my yin. I decide that, tonight, we are going to recapture our relationship. Damn it if it kills me or I have to paste our eyelids open—we are going to have a good time, fuck like there’s no tomorrow, and fall asleep sexually sated.

I think back to a conversation we had one night in bed about how couples keep the magic alive when they live together. Owen said that he liked the idea of being in a relationship but making it fun, sometimes doing crazy things like picking your girl up at a bar like she was a stranger. This memory has me thinking.

I grab my phone as I shut my computer off.

Me:
Hey, stranger. I’m looking for a hot date tonight. Meet me at The Irish Rose at 7 p.m. I’ll be in the short, black dress with the red heels at the bar. Let’s play a game, baby. xo Your Secret Admirer

I hit send feeling very pleased with myself and start to shut everything down, hoping that it’s early enough for me to return home and get ready to meet my man at the bar. I know he’s working his shift until six thirty tonight, so I should be fine.

I picked up some dry cleaning this afternoon, so I have one of my favorite flirty black dresses in my office. I already have my red heels on, courtesy of an earlier meeting with the head of the department. As I change dresses, my phone buzzes. I look down at it on the desk and see that Owen has replied.

Owen:
Dear Secret Admirer: I’m up for your game. I’ll see you at 7 p.m. with you looking fuckable. My dick is hard just thinking about it, and I’m sure you know just how to help me with that. PS: You can’t tell my girlfriend about this.

I laugh at his PS. I really hope this goes off without a hitch. We need this—badly.

After getting dressed, I fix my makeup and hair and catch a cab back to Brooklyn.

I get to the bar about an hour later and find a spot where I am able to see the door so I’ll know when Owen walks in. The bartender keeps me entertained with stories about his regular patrons. I laugh as he finishes his story about a recent bar fight between a current and ex-boyfriend of a female customer. It’s amazing how out of control people get over jealousy. I should know—I’ve done it.

Suddenly, I feel electricity zing through me. He’s here. Even though I haven’t looked, I know. I lift my mojito to my lips, taking a slow sip as the bartender moves away to tend to another patron at the bar. I dip my head down and look to my left. Owen is leaning over the counter at the end of the bar. He raises his hand to the bartender, indicating that he wants to order a drink. His eyes look around the bar, and then they are suddenly on me. He smiles briefly and then covers his mouth to wipe it away—as if he’s getting into character.

I am eager to get my hands on him but more eager to have a little fun. Butterflies start fluttering in my belly, just like the first time I met him. But this time, I get to leave the bar with the stud and it has me all tingly and excited like a schoolgirl.