Down to You (The Bad Boys #1)(14)
Author: M. Leighton

“Olivia?” Marissa calls, knocking once loudly and then entering. She doesn’t even wait for me to give her permission.

I bite back a snarl.

Witch!

“In here,” I call sharply.

The door is cracked and I see her practically stomp across the room. She pushes the door open. There’s a nasty look on her face. She wastes no time with niceties. “Do you have to work tonight? If not, I need you to go to an art exhibition with Nash. You owe him.”

It’s just like Marissa to jump right in with the heavy artillery, like guilt and extortion.

I’m so proud to be related to the devil’s mistress.

Carefully suppressing the urge to snort, I answer her.

“As a matter of fact, I’m off tonight. I can’t go, though. I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything to wear to a fancy function like that.”

She brushes me off with a wave of her hand. “You can wear something of mine. I’m sure we can make do.”

I’d just heard her complain about not having had time to buy a new dress for the event, yet she’s perfectly content to send me in…whatever.

“As long as Nash doesn’t care what I look like…”

Marissa laughs in her demeaning little way. “Olivia, I’m sure Nash won’t give you a second thought.”

I’m gonna be honest. I see red. Red, dammit! And it’s in this very moment that I decide I’m going to knock everyone’s socks off, especially Nash’s. Marissa will rue the day…

Even if I have to pull a Pretty in Pink and sew my own effing dress in seven minutes flat.

All this is taking place internally. On the outside, I smile sweetly at Marissa. “Well, in that case I’d be happy to.”

She turns around and walks away without so much as a thank you or kiss my ass. When I hear her tell Nash that I’ll go and that she’ll do her best to make sure I’m presentable, I can’t help but wonder if I could get away with stabbing her cold, cold heart with an ice pick.

For that, I might win the Nobel Peace Prize. Or, bare minimum, a call from the Vatican, thanking me.

This time, I don’t bother to hide my snicker.

CHAPTER TWELVE – Nash

As I wait for Olivia to come out of her bedroom, I can’t help but feel a little ashamed. I shouldn’t be looking forward to spending the evening with her as much as I am.

Yet I am. And there’s just no denying it.

“Nash?” I hear Olivia call. I turn toward her bedroom. I can see the door from where I’m standing in the living room. It’s cracked just enough for me to hear her, but not see her.

“Yes?”

“Promise me that if I’ll embarrass you in this dress, you’ll just go without me. It won’t hurt my feelings. I swear.”

“Olivia, it doesn’t matter what—”

“Promise me right now or I’m not coming out at all.”

She’s stubborn? Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed that. But actually, I kinda like it.

I laugh. “Okay, fine. I promise that if I think you’ll embarrass me, I’ll go without you.”

The door closes and then there’s a long pause before it swings all the way open. What I see takes my breath.

Marissa is taller than Olivia. Thinner, too. But Olivia is curvier. Much curvier. And every single one is displayed to absolute perfection in the dress she’s wearing.

I think I’ve seen Marissa in it before, and she looked great. But not great like this.

The material is some kind of thin, almost sheer stuff in dark red. It flutters in the air that stirs as the door comes to a rest against the stopper with a muffled thump. Olivia stands still and lets me appraise her before she starts toward me. I clench my jaw to keep my mouth from dropping open as I watch her. The wispy cloth clings to her body as she walks, outlining her form perfectly. She might as well be nude.

Holy mother, I wish she was.

I shake off the thought, knowing I can’t go forward tonight thinking things like that.

Think with the big head, man! Think with the big head!

She glides to a stop in front of me, all grace and luscious skin. Her bare chest and shoulders glow in the low light. I want to touch her, caress her, so much so that I ball my fingers into tight fists to keep them to myself.

“You look beautiful.” My voice sounds strained, even to my own ears.

Her face falls. “It’s too tight, isn’t it? I’m wearing taller heels to make the length right, but there’s nothing I can do about the rest.” I can see that she’s genuinely distressed, which makes me want to smile, although I don’t. That would be the wrong thing to do in front of an upset woman. “Marissa is so much thinner than me,” she says, one of her hands fluttering as she talks. “And I just don’t have anything that—”

I reach out and take her spastic hand, pressing the forefinger of my free hand to her lips. “Shhh.” She stops talking immediately. Yes, I could’ve shut her up a hundred different ways without touching her, but I figure this is better than kissing her, which is what I really want to do.

Good God, how I want to kiss her!

It takes me a few seconds to focus on something other than the way her lush lips parted just a little. It would be so easy to slide my fingertip between them, to feel the heat of her mouth, the wetness of her tongue.

I’m both surprised and irritated that I feel my tuxedo pants shrink a size in the crotch. I’ll have to be extra careful with this girl. I can’t remember the last time someone so thoroughly tested my restraint.

Actually, yes I can. It was Libby Fields in her tight little dress at the Homecoming dance in the ninth grade. I thought for sure if she sat in my lap and wiggled her ass one more time, I was going to explode like Mt. Saint Helens.

I didn’t, of course. But it was close. And this girl—this tiny, curvaceous, engaging, walking, talking contradiction—is working her way up to Libby Fields’s position very, very quickly, which is really saying something since I’m twenty-five, not fourteen.

I clear my throat. “Please don’t say another word. You look beautiful. In Marissa’s wildest dreams, she could never fill out that dress the way you do. I’ll be the envy of every guy in the whole damn place.” I smile to further make my point.

Although her brow doesn’t smooth entirely, I know she’s feeling better when she grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away. I can see the slight curve of her lips where she’s holding in a smile.

“Really?”