Olivia's POV
"Thank you, Livy." He whispered, before withdrawing his dick from my pussy.
The moment he pulled away, I felt an intense sense of loss that shocked me to my core. My legs were still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened, my body still humming with the aftershocks of the most mind-blowing orgasm I'd ever experienced.
I stood there, trying to catch my breath, my heart still racing from the encounter. Part of me was horrified at what I'd just allowed to happen - again. With a complete stranger. In a public place. But the larger part of me was floating on cloud nine.
God, the way he'd touched me, the way he'd made me feel... No one had ever made my body respond like that. Not my ex-boyfriends, not even in my wildest fantasies about Alex. This mysterious man had played my body like an instrument, bringing me to heights of pleasure I didn't even know existed.
Before I could fully process what had happened, I felt him press something small and soft into my palm.
"Until we meet again, mi amor," his lips grazed my ears, sending one final shiver through my already overwhelmed system.
And then, just like that, he was gone.
I spun around immediately, my eyes searching the empty room. The doorway was open, but there was no trace of him. It was as if he'd simply vanished into thin air.
"What the hell?" I whispered to myself, staring at the doorway.
My mind was racing with a thousand questions. How did he move so quietly? How did he know exactly where to find me? And most importantly, who was this man who seemed to appear and disappear at will, who knew my full name, who somehow knew about my Oliver disguise?
I looked down at my palm and gasped. Lying in my hand was the most exquisite flower I'd ever seen. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It had delicate petals that seemed to glow brightly, shifting from deep purple to silver depending on how the light hit them. The stem was a pale green, and the entire flower seemed to glow with an otherworldly beauty.
I brought it closer to my face, and it had the most intoxicating fragrance - sweet and exotic, with hints of jasmine and vanilla. It was absolutely mesmerizing.
But what kind of flower was this? I'd never seen anything like it, not in any garden or flower shop. It looked almost... magical.
I sat down heavily on the edge of the desk, still holding the flower, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Of what was happening in my life. My body was still tingling from his touch, my lips still swollen from his kisses. The rational part of my mind was screaming that this was insane, that I was letting some unknown man manipulate me, use me.
But the other part - the part that was still floating on the high of pleasure - didn't care about rational thought. That part of me was already craving his touch again, already hoping he'd find me again soon.
I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to center myself. The intensity of my physical response to him was alarming. It was as if my body recognized him on some strange level, as if we were connected in a way that made no sense.
I opened my eyes and checked my phone, and my heart nearly stopped.
9:47 PM.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet so quickly I nearly lost my balance.
I was supposed to be home by 8:30 at the latest. Mom would be worried sick, and probably furious. She'd demand to know where I'd been, why I was so late, and I had absolutely no reasonable explanation to give her.
Why couldn't she just go back home to her husband? Ugghhh!!!
I quickly grabbed my bag and placed the flower inside carefully, wrapping it in a tissue so it wouldn't get damaged. Then I rushed toward the door, my legs still trembling slightly.
But as I reached the doorway, I stopped abruptly and turned to the teenager who was still sitting in the same spot, headphones around his neck, scrolling through his phone.
"Excuse me. Did you see anyone go into that room? A man in a black hoodie?"
The teenager looked up at me with a bored expression and shrugged. "Lady, people have been going in and out of these study rooms all day. Students, professors, random people. I couldn't tell you who went where even if I wanted to."
I felt my heart sink. Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
"But," the teenager continued, "if you're looking for someone specific, you might want to check with security. They have cameras in the hallways."
Security cameras. Of course! Why hadn't I thought of that?
"Thank you," I said quickly. "Where's the security office?"
"First floor, near the main entrance. But they're probably closed by now. You'd have to come back tomorrow during regular hours."
I nodded, filing that information away for later. Right now, I needed to get home before my mother called the police.
"Thanks again," I said, already heading toward the exit.
I walked the short distance home after fruitlessly waiting for a cab and getting none.
By the time I reached my apartment, it was nearly 10:30 PM. I stood outside the door for a moment, trying to compose myself, trying to come up with an excuse for why I was so late.
I could hear voices from inside - my mother's worried tone and what sounded like Kira trying to calm her down. Taking a deep breath, I slipped my key into the lock and pushed the door open.
"Olivia!" My mother called lout immediately. "Thank God you're home! I've been worried sick!"
She rushed toward me and pulled me into a tight hug, and I could feel her body trembling with relief.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, wrapping my arms around her. "I didn't mean to worry you."
She pulled back and held me at arm's length, her eyes scanning my face like a detective. "Where have you been, young lady? It's nearly 10:30! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"
"I was at the office," I lied, "We had a big case that needed urgent attention."
"Until 10:30 at night?" Mom nearly screamed. "Olivia Christine, what kind of law firm keeps its employees working until this hour? And on a Friday night!"
"It's a very demanding job, Mom. Sometimes these things happen."
But Mom wasn't buying it. She was giving me that look - the one that said she knew I wasn't telling her the whole truth.
"And another thing," Mom continued, looking at me suspiciously. "Do you make a habit of staying out this late? Because I have to tell you, as a single woman living in this city, you need to be more careful about your safety. What kind of impression does this give? A young lady out at odd hours with no man to escort her home..."
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Mom held up her hand.
"Unless..." Her expression suddenly changed, and she smiled mischievously. "Unless there's something you're not telling me. Is there a man, Olivia? Have you finally met someone?"
"Mom, I told you, I was working..."
"Wait a minute," Mom interrupted, stepping closer and looking at my face intently. "Look at you! You're absolutely glowing!"
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. "I'm not glowing, Mom. I'm just tired."
"No, no, no," Mom said, shaking her head. "I know that look, sweetheart. That's the look of a woman who's been thoroughly satisfied by a man."
"Mother!" I exclaimed, my face burning with embarrassment.
"Don't 'mother' me," she said with a smile. "I may be your mother, but I'm not naive. You have that post-sex glow, darling. It's written all over your face."
I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. "Can we please change the subject?"
"So there is someone!" Mom clapped her hands together excitedly. "I knew it! Who is he? What's he like? Is he the one keeping you out so late?"
"There's no one, Mom. I had a stressful day at work, that's all," I lied desperately, trying to redirect her attention. "Where's Kira? I thought she'd be home by now."
"She stepped out to get some groceries," Mom said dismissively. "But don't think you can change the subject that easily. We're not done discussing your late night activities."
I sighed heavily, knowing I needed to find a way to end this interrogation. "Actually, Mom, speaking of men, I'd like to call Gabriel before tomorrow's date. I'm actually pretty excited to talk to him."
It was a big fat lie, but I had no choice.
It worked perfectly because Mom's expression changed instantly, her face lighting up with pure joy.
"Really? Oh, sweetheart, that's wonderful!" She bounced with excitement. "I knew you'd come around! Let me get his number for you right away."
She rushed over to her purse and pulled out a small address book, flipping through the pages quickly.
"Here it is," she said, pointing to a number. "Gabriel Fisher. Martha gave it to me just this morning."
I pulled out my phone with fake enthusiasm and dialed the number, secretly hoping it would go straight to voicemail so I could end this charade quickly.
The phone rang once, twice, three times... and then a recorded message: "The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again."
I tried not to let my relief show as I turned to my mother with a sad expression.
"Mom, the number is disconnected," I said, forcing frustration into my voice. "This Gabriel guy was supposed to call me, and he didn't. Now when I try to call him, his phone isn't even working. What kind of serious man doesn't have a working phone number?"
Mom's face fell, and she immediately looked concerned. "That's strange. Martha just gave me that number this morning. Maybe I wrote it down wrong?"
She took my phone from my hands, squinting at the screen. "Let me try calling it myself. Maybe you misdialed."
She pressed the redial button. We listened together as the same automated message played again.
"Well, that's just unacceptable," Mom said, her voice rising with fury. "What kind of unreliable young man gives out disconnected phone numbers? Martha is going to hear about this!"
I was about to respond when my phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text message. The sound made both Mom and me freeze.
I watched as Mom's expression changed completely. Her face went from annoyed to concerned to horror as she read whatever was on my screen.
"Olivia," she said slowly, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Who... the hell... is this?"
She shoved my phone toward my face, and I squinted at the screen, reading the message that had just come through.
*Hey Livy. I can't wait to hold you again and bury myself deep inside you.*
My heart stopped. The message was from an unknown number, but I knew exactly who it was from. The man who'd just given me the most incredible sexual experience of my life.
I felt the blood drain from my face as I stared at the message. How did he get my number? How was this even possible?
"Mom," I started, frantically searching my brain for a possible explanation, "I can explain..."