Rescue Breathing (6 page)

“
Your lips taste just like I thought they
would… Like wine with a hint of cinnamon. So sweet…” My hands slide
higher up her thighs.

When my fingers are within inches of her
panties, Olivia grabs hold of my wrists, preventing me from lifting
her skirt any higher.
I
close my eyes slowly, not wanting to stop. Just as I'm about to
test her limits, there is a loud knock on the door.

“
Just a minute,” I call out before resting
my forehead against hers.

I need to calm down. I
've got a serious case of blue balls and
now I'm supposed to stop? Fuck my luck.

“
I want you so fucking badly right now," I
whisper into her hair.

There
's another knock on the door and I groan with
frustration.

"All right! Jesus! I said give me a
fucking minute!" I reluctantly pull back from Olivia and look into
her eyes.

She lifts her head and looks at me while
tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks adorable—a bit
scandalized, a bit embarrassed, and a lot turned on. I smile and
help Olivia off the sink. I look over her head and into the mirror
as I right myself, fixing my hair and shirt.
Did I lose a button?
Olivia bends forward to adjust
her skirt and turns to look in the mirror. She surveys her swollen
lips and absently rubs her ring finger over them. I watch her in
the mirror and our eyes lock.

"You are absolutely stunning.
And best of all, you have no
idea, do you?"

Olivia blushes and shakes her head. “Thank
you.”

“
It's not lip service, beautiful girl. It's
the truth.” I stand behind her and unlatch the lock on the bathroom
door, pausing before sliding it open and effectively ruining our
moment. I bend slightly and whisper into Olivia's ear, “I always
finish what I start, Olivia. We
will
finish this at another time.” I swear I see her shiver as I
slide open the door.

We are greeted by the antsy passenger who
disturbed us. When he sees Olivia and me exiting the lavatory, his
frown turns into an enormous grin. As if being able to read the
guy's assumption of us joining the mile high club, Olivia
dramatically wipes her lips with the back of her hand and gives him
a wink. I can't help but laugh while the man stares at us, mouth
agape. Olivia and I find our way back to our seats, and when we sit
we look at each other and burst into laughter.

Owen Maxwell,
you
're
seriously screwed
.

* * *

After a few more hours of chatting, a few
more shared moments of laughing, and few more adult beverages, our
flight lands at SeaTac.
Olivia and I gathered our stowed luggage and make our way
toward the exits.

“
Ride with me into the city,” I ask. “Our
hotels are right across the street.” Although I've just spent the
last six hours with her, I'm not quite ready for this night to end.
“We could grab dessert or something.”

Olivia turns and looks up at me, tilts her
head, and gives me a sad smile. “My friend Charley is picking me
up. She's my best friend from Columbia. I haven't seen her in a
long time,” she says disappointedly. “Hey, you want us to bring you
to your hotel? We could drop you off?” she asks.

I scrunch my nose and shake my head,
unable to hide my look of disappointment. I'm a little bummed that
this is ending. “No. I have a car service waiting.”

As if on cue, I see a poster with O. MAXWELL
emblazoned on it.

“
Aaand there he is,” I say sadly, pointing
to the short, squatty man holding the sign. “You go with your
friend. I'm sure she's just as excited to see you too.” An awkward
silence falls between us, and I'm oddly nervous. “Thank you for
making an otherwise unbearable flight one of the best flights I've
ever had,” I say honestly. “It was great meeting you. I have your
number and I'll call you about coffee.” I smile
hopefully.

She nods and fiddles with her fingers, a
nervous habit of hers I've picked up on. I bend my head down and
brush my lips against hers.

“
And to finish what we started…” I say
before wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close to
me. I lean in farther and kiss her. Gently parting her lips, I
deepen our kiss. Olivia responds by bringing her hands up my arms
and around my neck, her fingers teasingly playing with my
hair.

I eventually pull away and press my
forehead against hers. “I have to go,” I whisper with ragged
breaths.

Olivia nods and looks to the
ground.
I kiss her one
more time on the forehead before I reluctantly straighten up. She
looks up and gives me a weak smile. I wink back at her and turn to
follow my driver out to the waiting car.

After I hand my duffel to the driver, he
places it in the back of the black Escalade. I climb into the back
seat and lean my head against the headrest, still reeling from the
flight and how much Olivia affected me.  I need to call
Travis.

CHAPTER FIVE

Owen

“
Dude! You made it!” Travis's voice booms
on the other end of phone.

“
Yeah, man. Just got into my car and I'm
headed into the city. Whatcha up to?”

“
Marc and I are watching the game down at
Pete's Bar. Miracle of miracles, but our Seattle Mariners are
currently kicking your precious Yankees' ass!”

“
It'll be short-lived…” I hear Marc comment
in the background.

“
You guys going to be there for a while?
I'm not ready to call it a night yet,” I reply.

“
Shit yeah! We'll come to you. They have a
swanky bar at the W Hotel, but we can hobnob with you for a bit,”
Travis yells over the screaming crowd at the bar.

“
No. I'll come find you at Pete's. I
haven't been there in forever. Has it changed much since the D-Bags
made it big?” I ask with renewed energy, suddenly excited at the
prospect of grabbing a beer with my best friends, who just happen
to be at the old stomping grounds of one of my favorite
bands.

“
Nope. Hasn't changed a bit. Still the
Pete's Bar we know and love. It's just gotten more popular since
the guys left,” Travis shouts over the screams from the game.
“Well, shit. Jeter just hit a two-run homer. Now we're all tied
up.”

“
What did I tell you?” I hear Marc say.
“Here, hand me that...”

I hear rustling on the other end of the
phone, and then a deep, rich voice comes on the line.
“
Owen.
Marc,
” he says,
identifying himself. I've always appreciated Marc's no-bullshit
approach to everything in life.  No pleasantries, just
straight to the point.

“
Listen,” he continues, “get out of your
fancy slacks and button-down shirt and throw on some Pete's Bar
appropriate attire and get your ass down here. I'm making a play
for a couple of women and could use a real wingman again. Travis is
a pussy and has lost all sense of fun. We need to discuss revoking
his man card. I'll see you soon.” Marc hangs up, and just like
that, the conversation is over.

I sigh heavily and shake my head, smiling
at my phone. This is just what I need to start off this weekend
right—a little quality time with my buddies. Plus, they'll help to
distract my mind from thoughts of Olivia.

I sit the rest of the drive into Seattle
in dark silence. This whole night has been kind of crazy, and how
I'm feeling about a woman I just met is fucking with my head. I've
prided myself on being unattached these last few years, but
spending time with Olivia makes me long for something
more…something different.

Once I get checked into my room at the W
Hotel, I plop my bag onto the king-sized bed and survey my
surroundings. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrap around the corner-room
suite, and it's tastefully decorated in dark woods and earth tones.
Black-and-white photographs of Seattle adorn the walls, and a
chilled bottle of champagne and two fluted crystal glasses wait for
me on the desk, mocking me. I roll my eyes.

Rub it in my face that I have
this fancy suite all to myself, why don
't you. If I had it my way, I'd be
balls deep in Olivia right now,
I groan.

I open up my duffel bag, pull out my
toiletry kit, and walk into the large, marble bathroom. I start the
water in the glass shower and strip out of my clothes. As I step
into the shower, the dual showerheads throw hot water over my body,
washing my tension down the drain. I brace myself against the tiled
shower wall with my hands as I lift my face to the spray. My
thoughts flood with memories of Olivia in the airplane bathroom and
I instantly regret not telling the asshole who interrupted us to
fuck off. I'm dying to know what she sounds like when she comes,
what her face looks like when she climaxes, and how my name sounds
on her lips when she screams it. My right hand absently starts to
stroke my now rigid cock—up, down, over, and around the swollen
head. I decide it's best to rub one out before I meet up with the
guys and rid myself of a most serious case of blue
balls.

Feeling ten times better after my shower,
I discard the towel slung low around my waist and dig out a pair of
dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and some Converse sneakers from my
bag. I check myself out in the mirror one last time and spray on
some cologne. Then I throw on a FDNY ball cap before making my way
down to the lobby and out to see Travis and Marc.

* * *

“
There he is!” Marc yells across the small
bar. “Looking good, my friend,” he says as he gives me a
hug.

“
OWEN!” Travis calls out from the bar.
“What are you drinking, man?”

“
Whatever microbrew is on tap,” I call
back, waving to him and giving Travis a thumbs up. “He's drunk,
isn'
t
he?
” I ask, turning to
Marc to confirm.

“
Ooohhh yeah...You need to catch up, O.”
Marc says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Travis brings over a round of drinks and
sloppily falls into an unforgiving wooden chair at our table.
 What Pete's lacks in ambiance they make up for in
nostalgia.

“
About time you got here,” Travis says as
he grabs me around the neck and pulls me close for a side hug.
“How've you been, O? How'
s Mamma Maxwell?
”

“
She'
s good. We
're
good. She sends her best. She's looking forward to coming out with
me for the wedding in a few months,” I reply as I reach for my
beer.

Travis smiles wide. “Excellent! I love
that woman. I can't wait to see her.”

“
She loves you too, man. And she's really
happy for you. I, personally, don't get it. Why buy the hen when
you can get the eggs for free?”

Marc nods his head and gives me a fist
bump in agreement.
“See?
This is why Owen needs to move to Seattle. He's the voice of reason
in a crazy, love-filled world,” he says, supporting my
stance.

“
Pfft,
” Travis scoffs. “You'll both figure it out eventually when
someone knocks off the red rust around your corroded hearts.”
Travis takes a long swig of his beer. “I'm fuckin'
gettin
' married, man!” he shouts, lifting both arms
straight up into the air like he just scored the biggest touchdown
of his life.

“
You've still got a few months to back out,
you know,” I remind him teasingly.

“
Nope, not gonna happen. I love Lucy. She
is
it
for me,
” Travis spits out
emphatically.

I don
't get it, but whatever.

“
We're thirty-six, guys. I'm ready to
settle down, start a family…all that good shit,” Travis explains,
his demeanor turning reflective.

Marc starts to choke on his scotch. “A
family? You're not even fucking married yet and you're talking
about having kids? Jesus.” The expression on Marc's face looks like
Travis just kicked a puppy. “My life will be over sooner than I
thought…” he murmurs.

“
Marc. I'm getting married. I'm not dying,”
Travis says, trying to talk his friend off the ledge.

Marc and Travis both went to the
University of Washington. Travis majored in finance, Marc in
broadcast journalism. Following graduation, Travis stayed in
Seattle and landed a kick-ass job with a well-known financial firm.
Marc, on the other hand, was recruited by a few major market news
networks and ended up taking a position as a reporter for a TV
station in Austin. When the opportunity came to be an on-air anchor
for a local Seattle station a few years later, Marc jumped at the
opportunity to get back to the Pacific Northwest and closer to
Travis and his other college friends. I understand how Marc's
feeling. Sure, with Travis getting married, he may not be
physically dying, but to us, it feels like a part of our friendship
is.

Marc rolls his eyes and, still holding his
glass of scotch, points between Travis and me. “You heard him,
Maxi. When I start to complain that Travis isn't any fun anymore,
you remember this conversation,” Marc smirks, looking at
me.