CHAPTER 216: CHAPTER 216

Olivia’s POV

I woke up exhausted, my entire body aching in that deep, satisfying way that came from hours of intense sex.

How many rounds did we go?

I couldn’t even remember. Three? Four? More? At some point, they’d all blurred together into one continuous wave of pleasure so intense I’d forgotten where I was.

My stranger had meant business last night. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust had been like he was trying to imprint himself inside me, brand me so thoroughly that I’d never forget who I belonged to.

Possessive bastard.

But God, it had worked.

I yawned and stretched, wincing slightly at the protest from my sore muscles. When I turned to look at the other side of the bed, I already knew what I’d find.

Empty.

Of course he was gone.

I dragged myself out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, my legs slightly unsteady. In the mirror, I looked thoroughly ravished - my hair a mess, my lips swollen, faint marks along my neck and shoulders that I’d have to cover with makeup.

Worth it.

I turned on the shower and while the water heated up, I opened the medicine cabinet where I’d stashed the emergency contraception Kira had brought.

Last pill. This was absolutely, definitely the last time I was having unprotected sex with anyone.

You keep saying that, Olivia.

I swallowed the pill with water from the tap and made a mental note to get on proper birth control. This was getting ridiculous.

As I stepped into the hot shower, letting the water soothe my aching muscles, my mind drifted back to last night. The way my stranger had made love to me. The way he had made me come apart in his arms over and over again, while holding back his own release.

The way he’d whispered against my skin in that distorted voice, telling me I was beautiful, perfect, his.

The way he’d known exactly where to touch, exactly how much pressure, exactly what I needed before I even knew I needed it.

Just like Maxwell knew.

The thought stopped me cold, my hands freezing mid-way through washing my hair.

I’d never thought about it before. Had deliberately not compared the two experiences - the night with Maxwell and other nights with my stranger. It had felt wrong somehow, comparing both of them.

But now, standing here with my body still humming from my stranger’s touch, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities.

The way they both touched me was the same.

The way they both seemed to know my body better than I knew it myself.

The way they both made me feel the same intensity of pleasure, the same overwhelming sense of being completely claimed.

Could it be possible? Could two different men really make love the exact same way?

The thought had crossed my mind before...briefly, in passing, dismissed almost immediately as ridiculous. There was no way Maxwell could be my stranger. Their personalities were completely different. Maxwell was cold, calculating, controlled. My stranger was passionate, mysterious, vulnerable in a way Maxwell never showed.

They couldn’t be the same person.

Could they?

But what if they are?

My stranger had said he’d been watching me. That he knew everything about me. That he’d known me before.

Just like Maxwell.

And the stranger had known about Gabriel - had suspected our relationship was fake, had known details he shouldn’t have been able to know unless he was close to the situation.

The stranger is one of them. Gabriel, Alex, Damien, or Maxwell.

I’d been so sure it couldn’t be Maxwell. So convinced that the cold, arrogant billionaire couldn’t possibly be the tender, passionate stranger who sent me gifts and spoke lovely words.

But what if I was wrong?

What if Maxwell was exactly the kind of man who would create an entire alternate identity just to be close to me? Who would become someone else because he was too scared or too proud to show me his real feelings?

I have to know. I have to find out for sure.

I finished my shower and got dressed in Oliver’s clothes, my mind already working on a plan. I’d watch Maxwell today. Look for clues, inconsistencies, anything that might confirm or deny my growing suspicion.

When I entered the dining room, it was empty except for the staff setting the table. I took a seat, trying to calm my racing heart.

Just act normal. Don’t let him see that you’re analyzing his every move, or you’re sore from intense love making.

Minutes later, He walked in, and I had to force myself not to stare too obviously.

He looked... good. Devastatingly good, actually. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and he was wearing a perfectly tailored suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and athletic frame.

Focus, Olivia. You’re supposed to be Oliver right now.

He sat down across from me without a word, and we were served breakfast in silence. The tension was very thick, both of us eating silently while avoiding each other’s eyes.

Finally, Maxwell cleared his throat.

"Oliver."

I looked up. "Yes, sir?"

"Did you have someone over in your room last night?"

The question hit me like a tornado, but I forced my expression to remain neutral even as my heart started racing.

"No, sir. I was alone."

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you certain? Because I could have sworn I heard noises. Coming from your room."

Shit. I knew he would hear us.

I cleared my throat, preparing a believable lie. "What kind of noises?"

"The kind that indicate someone is having sex." The look in his eyes made my skin prickle with awareness.

Does he know? Can he tell?

"I was watching porn," I said, praying my voice sounded appropriately embarrassed. "I’ve been without a girl’s touch for a while now, and I needed... release."

Maxwell’s eyebrow rose. "Really. But didn’t Kira just visit you?"

"We’re having a minor disagreement," I said quickly. "Nothing major, but I didn’t want to push for intimacy while things are still tense between us. So I took matters into my own hands. Literally."

The corner of Maxwell’s mouth twitched. "I see."

"It won’t happen again," I added, trying to sound mortified. "I should have been more discreet. I apologize if I disturbed you."

"It’s fine." Maxwell dabbed his mouth with his napkin and stood. "I understand the need for... relief. Actually, I make use of female companionship from time to time myself when I’m stressed."

Female companionship. Right.

"In fact," Maxwell continued, and I didn’t like the gleam in his eye, "I’ll arrange for someone to visit you tonight. Help with your boredom. A lovely woman who’s very skilled at providing exactly the kind of... release you need."

WHAT.

"No!" I voiced out in panic. I modulated my tone. "I mean, that’s very generous, but I don’t need... I wouldn’t want to cheat on Kira."

"You wouldn’t be cheating if she never finds out." Maxwell was pulling on his suit jacket now, preparing to leave. "And frankly, Oliver, what kind of girlfriend leaves her boyfriend frustrated enough that he’s masturbating to porn in his employer’s house? Clearly, she’s not meeting your needs."

I hate you. I hate you so much right now.

"I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline."

Maxwell studied me for a long moment, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was testing me somehow. Looking for something in my reaction.

He turned and headed toward the door, then paused. "By the way, Oliver... make sure you find Mitchell today. I need you back in the office. Things are piling up in your absence."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone with the sinking realization that I’d just made my situation more complicated.

I needed to talk to Kira. Needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do if Maxwell actually sent some woman to my room tonight.

God, my life is a disaster.

******

Kira’s POV

I sat across from Kennedy at a charming little restaurant, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself just be happy.

This was real. Kennedy and I were really doing this - having lunch dates, texting throughout the day. No more pining from afar. No more wondering what if.

He was mine. Actually mine.

"You’re smiling," Kennedy observed, his own lips curving. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just... this. Us." I played with my fork, suddenly feeling shy. "I still can’t quite believe it’s real."

"It’s real." His foot found mine under the table, and the contact sent electricity up my leg. "Very, very real."

I did need to break things off with Eddy properly, though. My mysterious stranger who’d been such a huge part of my life for weeks. What we’d had was good while it lasted - the anonymous messages, the excitement of not knowing, the fantasy of it all.

But Kennedy was real. Solid. Here. And I’d choose him over an anonymous lover any day.

Kennedy was giving me that look now - the one that made my stomach flip and my thighs clench. The one that said this restaurant was the last place he wanted to be. That he’d much rather take me somewhere private and show me exactly what he was thinking about.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. "Really?"

"I’m good," I managed, even though my mouth had gone dry. "Really good."

We fell into silence again. It was charged. Electric. The air between us crackling with tension so thick I could barely breathe.

Kennedy’s eyes never left mine, and I watched his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip - a gesture that absolutely should not have been as sexy as it was.

God, I want him.

The thought was so intense it made me shift in my seat, and the movement sent a jolt of awareness through my body that made me realize something.

I was wet.

"I need to use the restroom," I blurted out, standing abruptly. "Excuse me."

Kennedy’s smile suggested he could see right through me, but he just nodded. "Take your time."

I walked to the back of the restaurant where the restrooms were located, my heart pounding. I really did need to pee, but mostly I just needed a moment to cool down. To get control of myself before I did something crazy like climb across the table and lick...

Stop. Get it together.

The women’s restroom was empty, thank God. I used the toilet quickly, then left the stall to go wash my hands at the sink.

That’s when I saw him in the mirror.

Kennedy, standing in the doorway of the women’s restroom, his eyes locked on mine through our reflections.

"Kennedy?" My voice came out breathless. "What are you... this is the women’s..."

He stepped inside and locked the door behind him.

"I know," he said, moving toward me with quick steps. "And I don’t care."

Then he spun me around, capturing my mouth in a hot kiss, his hands pulling at my clothes.