Chapter 549

"I hope you're not as stiff as a board under me," Elvis murmured, pinning the slender woman against the wall. He began to unbutton his shirt, the gesture both predatory and playful. "So, where's your little penis gone?"

Olive, completely bewildered, looked around in a panic. "It must be a thief! There's a thief!"

"Yeah," Elvis rumbled, taking her small hand and placing it on his waist. "Look, is this yours?"

He felt like a wolf, she like a rabbit, slowly lured into his trap. He could devour her in a single gulp. But Olive recoiled as if shocked. "This isn't mine, Elvis. This isn't..."

He looked down at her, her clear eyes wide with a frightened innocence that hinted at a forbidden truth. He pursed his lips. "Aren't you always looking for 'Lil' Elvis'? How do you know it's not yours?"

"This isn't mine. I know. Mine is small. This is…big…"

Before she finished, Elvis's eyes darkened, and he leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head, avoiding his lips. He settled his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. "Olive, what do you mean? Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not," she whispered, her small hands encircling his neck. "Don't you just want my body? I can… I can promise you, but you must let me see Nathan…"

His long, black eyes narrowed, the heat in them replaced by a chill. She was drunk, yet her resolve remained. Without Nathan, she wouldn't have come. He released her and turned to leave.

"Elvis, where are you going?" she cried, hurrying after him.

He hadn't left the suite, only gone to the bathroom, filling the tub with cold water. The water soaked his trousers, but he didn't care.

"Elvis, are you angry again? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" Olive wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his face. He didn't respond, leaning slightly as she kissed him repeatedly. Her enthusiasm meant nothing; this was a transaction, and he'd won. He'd let her come to him, beg for peace, offer herself—yet he felt no joy.

"Elvis, what's wrong with you? Don't you like me?" Her slender body clung to him. Seeing his indifference, she bit her lip and slowly kissed his Adam's apple, a known sensitive spot. He'd responded enthusiastically before.

His handsome eyes narrowed, the earlier coldness replaced by a surge of emotion. He hated her, but more, he hated himself for his inability to resist her. One touch, and he was a lovesick dog. Her seduction unleashed an honest, primal response. He felt bewitched.

Olive sensed his rising temperature, feeling dizzy as he pulled her close. Then, abruptly, he released her. She landed with a splash in the cold tub.

"Ah!" She surfaced, sputtering. "Elvis, what are you doing?"

He stood tall, coldly assessing her, a mix of anger and disgust on his face. "Are you awake?"

"What?"

"I don't want to sleep with a drunkard. Olive, do you need a drink to stay awake with me? Do you want to paralyze yourself?"

Tears welled in her eyes, her gaze filled with guilt. She hadn't wanted intimacy with him. He hurt her, and he had other women. The memory of him and Harper made her stomach churn. She'd needed to numb herself.

He saw the truth in her face, a surge of anger rising in his chest, though he controlled it. "Olive, I'll let you see Nathan first."

"Really?" She hadn't expected kindness. There would be conditions.

"After seeing Nathan, I hope you're not as stiff as a board underneath me. I don't like raping corpses. Do you understand?"

Her face paled. She understood. After a moment, she nodded. "I know what to do."

He left without another word. She quickly packed her things. Elvis wasn't in the room, but Peterson arrived with little Nathan. Olive rushed to embrace her son.

"Nathan, I finally see you. I missed you so much. Did you miss me?"

"Yes, I missed you, too," Nathan replied, his voice still slightly childish.

"Nathan, you can finally speak!" A huge weight lifted from her heart.