You Are My Summer (The Cuttings #2) [In (Painstakingly Slow) Progress]

Chapter Five

The bloody beast made her lips fall onto his. Literally, how could that even happen?

Yet it was happening. Cole was a bit surprised, and so was Olivia, but there was something strange stirring inside him. He had to feel it. Her lips started to move away, to form words of apology, but he cut her off by covering his lips over hers again; this time he was conscious and it caught both of them off guard.

Like an alarmed small animal captured by a predator, she shook until his hands stroked her up and down her spine, and going under her shirt to touch her surprisingly soft skin, while his lips moved on hers.

After a moment, she finally wounded her arms around him and he deepened the kiss, his lips moving on hers with hunger, insistently shaping and fitting her mouth to his own. Lost in a haze, Olivia leaned up on her toes, responding to the pressure of his arms. He groaned as she fitted her body against his, and his parted lips crushed hers, sliding insistently back and forth, urging hers to part; the moment they did, his tongue slid between them.

Olivia tore her mouth free, pushing herself against him shakily, her breath quivering. "Oh God," she said, her cat-like eyes growing larger by the second as she stared at the floor.

The cat, miraculously, was lounging on top of a haystack behind her, and Henry wasn't anywhere in sight.

Cole let her go so abruptly that she staggered back a step; then he drew a long breath, holding it in. Tearing her gaze from the floor, she gaped at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, even though they both knew who was fully to blame here. He smiled darkly, struggling for composure.

"Your cat made the first mistake by jumping on you," he said quietly. "This one was mine. Sorry."

"What?" she said, unable to believe her ears.

"Contrary to what you obviously think of me," he drawled, "I am not in the habit of taking advantage of you --"

"I wasn't in danger of being taken advantaged of," Olivia scoffed, scowling at him.

Lazy mockery lit his periwinkle eyes. "Weren't you?" he queried lightly, as amusement seemed to drain the tension from his body.

"No!"

"Then I suggest you set the hem of your sweater aright before I'm tempted to show you how wrong you are, and put my hand around your bare waist again."

Olivia opened her mouth to probably make a scathing remark about his conceit, but his bold, glinting smile was too much. "You -- you're unbearable!"

"Quite right," he agreed and turned his back so she could fix herself up.

She seemed to desperately try to control her emotions and match his casual mood. Cole was sure she didn't have a boyfriend, or if she did, and he'd kissed her a few times, it was never in the way Cole did.

"You really are unbearable!"

"We've already agreed on that."

"You're unpredictable, too."

"Oh? In what way?"

She told him he could turn around again; he did. "Well," she continued, clearing her throat. She seemed to do that a lot when she was nervous, "you're really cold, to be honest." He almost smiled. "And then you start cracking wry jokes, grinning, and then kissing me. I think you're beginning to be like Brad -- you both look far more cold, fierce, and haughty than you really are."

He blinked, momentarily stumped. "I am not that obese menace," he snarled, pointing at the fat cat who fell asleep on top of the hay. "You must be terrified of hamsters if you find that beast fierce."