A Tragic Wreck Page 28

Olivia moaned. “Yes. Take it all away,” she panted breathlessly.

Cam groaned, biting her neck and pushing her even further against the wall. Olivia was immediately reminded of the day Alexander found her and tried to convince her to take him back. She closed her eyes tighter, wanting to forget that moment.

“Harder,” she breathed. Cam pumped into her with even more enthusiasm.

“No. Bite me harder.” The pain of his teeth on her neck distracted her from everything else. She needed the pain now, but it was an entirely different kind of pain. A pain she craved to dull all the other hurt she felt.

He bit down even harder, breathing rapidly against her skin.

Olivia screamed out, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her body.

Cam released his hold on her neck. “You like that, Libby? You like it when I hurt you?” Beads of sweat fell from his forehead.

She stared into his eyes, noticing a confused look on his face. “Yes. I need it, Cam. I need you to hurt me.”

“Fuck,” he growled as he continued thrusting into her, slamming her back against the door with each motion. He lowered his head and sucked on her nipple through her thin dress, biting down. She flinched, gasping in pain, the feeling sending her over the edge. Cam felt her spasm around him and he thrust even faster before grunting as he found his own release, holding her while their breathing slowed.

In the aftermath of sex with Cam, Olivia felt embarrassed. She didn’t know what came over her. This time, it was clear she was only using him. She felt guilty for what just occurred. Granted, he didn’t seem to mind, but would he expect to see her again now? Olivia wasn’t sure she wanted that anymore. She wanted to hide inside the comfort of her beach house and never see another human being for the rest of her miserable existence.

“You should probably go,” Olivia said, breaking the silence, lowering her legs to the ground, and adjusting her dress before walking toward the bathroom to clean up.

“Libby, come on. Don’t be like this,” Cam pleaded with her as he pulled off the condom and threw it into the nearby garbage.

“Don’t be like what, Cam?!” she exclaimed. “This is who I am so take it or leave it! I don’t really care either way!”

“Damn it, Libby! For crying out loud! You just let me fuck you like that and now you’re kicking me out?” He stared at her, dropping his voice. “I thought we were past all this bullshit.”

She shrugged her shoulders at him. “Cam, I’m not the girlfriend type. I don’t do relationships. I like to fuck and that’s it. So if you’re looking for someone to fill another role, look elsewhere. You know where the door is.” She turned and walked into her bathroom, slamming the door. He took a few steps closer to the bathroom door, feeling guilty for what just happened as he listened to Olivia’s sobs emanate from the room.

For the first time, he didn’t know what to do. The girl he had grown to care for seemed so empty and broken. Instead of trying to rectify the situation, he turned and left the house, his shoulders slumped forward, wondering what had come over him. He had sworn that he would not enable her to use sex as a coping mechanism, but he completely lost his head when he heard the pain in her voice. Then she kissed him, and it all escalated so quickly.

He drove away from the beach house, hoping to find some clarity in the light of day, but he had a feeling that clarity would never come.

When Olivia finally heard the front door open and close, she left the bathroom and ran up to her bedroom, stripping off her clothes and changing into a pair of gym shorts and tank top. She ruffled through her belongings and finally found what she was looking for…her laptop.

She found the power cable and turned on her MacBook. She knew the answer would destroy her, but she needed to know. She ignored her thousands of unread e-mails, went straight to the Google search page and typed in Alexander’s name.

Her search returned several recent news articles, if you could call gossip websites news. She clicked on the first link and let out a small gasp, willing herself not to cry. Alexander was at a formal function, dressed in a tuxedo. On his arm was a very beautiful woman with red hair and small brown eyes. Olivia scrolled down and read the article.

Alexander Burnham was spotted during a charity dinner at the Four Seasons in Boston on Saturday evening, accompanied by his new flame, Chelsea Wellington. Chelsea, the daughter of a wealthy architect, has been seen on Alexander’s arm for the past several weeks although, apparently, their relationship goes back almost ten years.

Olivia scrolled down even further and let out a small cry. It was Alexander kissing the red-haired woman. That was supposed to be her kiss. She could feel the passion between the two. Why did she push him away when he found her? Why couldn’t she take a leap?

“I can’t believe he moved on,” Olivia whispered. “What did I do?” she cried out to no one in particular, flopping onto her bed, grabbing a pillow and bringing it into her chest, clutching at it as if her life depended on it.

All of her walls came crumbling down as her body convulsed. It was a silent cry. Her eyes became blurry from all the unshed tears that immediately rushed forward. She stared at the laptop still open to that awful website, and wanted to scream. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t even make a sound. She finally realized that she pushed away the one person who meant the world to her. She said that she let go of him, but had she really? It wasn’t until he had let go of her that she realized Alexander was really gone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE APPLE OF MY EYE

“ANY WORD, CHERYL?” DONOVAN spat into the phone. He was losing control. He hated losing control.

“I’m sorry, sir. Nothing. The trail has gone cold. I think he’s given up on ever finding her. The last trace was a large cash withdrawal the day she left town. After that, nothing other than a stolen credit card that turned up to be a dead end.”

“What about that suspicious trip he took back in October? Make any headway on that?”

Cheryl sighed. “I’ve tried to get flight records, but those are sealed tight. I didn’t want to arouse suspicion by asking Martin about the trip.”

“Well, stay on it, if you can. Proceed discreetly. The second anything turns up, let me know.”

Cheryl exhaled loudly. “I honestly believe he’s moved on. He seems happy now. At least, I think he does. Maybe it’s for the best, sir.”

He banged his fist on his desk. “No, damn it! Those documents are still out there. I know they are! I won’t be happy until they are destroyed. Neither will my client and I don’t need to remind you what is at risk if we fail to turn those documents over in a timely fashion. Until we find that box, everyone is at risk of being exposed.”

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