FAZER LOGIN***Olivia's POV***The silence of Chandler’s mansion was different after three days. It wasn't the peaceful kind of quiet, it was a heavy, watchful silence that seemed to track my every move. I sat on my spot in the library, clutching my phone. I stared at Drake’s last text. Drake: I miss you already, baby. I know you miss me too so I sent you a package. It'll be there tommorow. I bit my lower lip, the heaviness in my chest returning as I texted back. Me: I miss you too. I can't wait to see it. I felt like I was evaporating. I didn't know where to go, what I should do, how to breathe, or what to wear without checking to see if he approved first. The door didn't creak, it simply swung open. Chandler stood there, leaning on the doorframe sideways. He didn’t knock. He never did anymore since he decided he wouldn't let me go. I thought he was bluffing, but the the way he'd been lurking around me? I was truly f*cked. "What do you want now?" I asked, clicking my tongue and
***Olivia's POV***I leaned my head against the backrest of the car seat as Drake drove me back to the house. My chest felt hollowed out, a raw, aching pressure in my chest. I had spent the last hour nodding and forcing smiles as he talked about the business trip and about our future. The thought of him leaving terrified me, it made me feel like I was drowning. But I kept the mask on. I kissed him goodbye outside, promising to wait, acting the part of the devoted, loyal girlfriend. The second the front door clicked shut behind me, the silence of the mansion rushed in like a tide. It was cold. It was suffocating. I didn't even make it to the stairs. "You're back late," a voice talked from somewhere. I froze. Chandler was sitting on the same single sofa. "He's leaving," I whispered, the words finally cracking my composure. I stood in the center of the living room, the weight of the day, the guilt of the morning, and the terror of Drake’s departure finally crashing down.
***Olivia's POV***Drake was in high spirits when he brought me to the pier. He was being incredibly attentive, holding my hand firmly as he navigated us through the crowd. He bought me a cold lemonade and kept checking in, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my knuckles. "You okay, Liv? You look a little pale," he said, pulling me into the shade of a souvenir shop. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle... completely different from the bruising, possessive grip I’d felt earlier this morning. "I'm fine, Drake. Just... the sun," I whispered. "You know we can always go back if you change your mind," he said, kissing my temple. The guilt was too much. He was being so nice. He was trying so hard to be the perfect boyfriend for me while I was in that house letting my Dad's bestfriend manhandle me and f*ck me with his fingers "You're right," I lied, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I needed to get out." We spent the afternoon watch
***Olivia's POV***I've done it again. I had scrubbed my skin until it was raw, but I could still feel the phantom weight of Chandler's hand around my throat, his lips on my skin, the heat of his fingers inside me. I forced myself into a turtle neck to hide the flush on my skin and headed downstairs. My heart stopped when I saw Drake standing in the living room, looking disheveled and worried. "Liv! Thank God," Drake said, stepping forward to pull me into a hug. I stiffened, my stomach turning. "I was worried when you disappeared on us last night, I thought something happened." "I'm... I'm okay now, Drake. I told you, I suddenly wasn't feeling well and I... went home," I whispered, avoiding his eyes. Chandler stepped out of the kitchen, leaning against the frame of the entry way. He looked perfectly composed, not a hair out of place, though I knew his finger had been inside me minutes ago.Oh god... "She’s a bit fragile, kid," Chandler said smoothly as if nothing had happened.
***Chandler's POV*** I reached down, my hand sliding under her panties and finding the slick moisture between her thighs. She let out a broken, high-pitched gasp, her fingers clawing at my shoulders. I leaned my head down, kissing her collarbone, groaning at the feel of her skin on my tongue. God, she was perfect, the way she responds to my touch like she was specially made for me. "Does your little boyfriend know how much you get wet for me? How you scream like a wh*re when I bury my fingers inside you?," I murmured against her skin. I drove two fingers inside her with a brutal force that made her gasp some more. I didn't care about being gentle. I wanted her to feel everything, I wanted her to break for me again. I moved my thumb against her cl*t, my pace going faster, the wet, slapping sound of my hand against her flesh echoing in the quiet kitchen. I watched her face, the way her face reddens, the way her throat moved to let out those delirious, shaky whimpers I could
***Chandler's POV*** I stood by the kitchen island, watching her in the quiet morning light. Olivia was hunched over the counter, the oversized T-shirt she was wearing drowning her small frame. It hit her mid-thigh, and despite the distance I tried to maintain since the living room incident, I couldn't leave her alone, I couldn't stop thinking about her. She looked like she was deep in thoughts, her hands trembling as she poured a glass of water on the kitchen counter. "You're up early," I said, disturbing her peace. She jumped, some water splashing over the counter top. She didn't turn around, her shoulders rising like she was tensed. "I-i didn't sleep much." "Neither did I." I set my coffee down and walked toward her. I didn't crowd her, but I stayed close enough to see the way she was nervously biting her lower lip. "Care to join me for breakfast?" "I'm not hungry," she muttered, finally turning to look at me. Her eyes were shimmering, searching my face with a mix
***Olivia's POV***I reached back with a steady hand, smoothing my skirt over my thighs with a slow and calm motion, though my heart was still hammering against my ribs. I sat up, brushing a stray curl behind my ear. I didn't look at him. I didn't look at the couch. I just looked at the stairs b
***Olivia's POV*** My heart was drumming erratically against my ribs, but it wasn't just fear. Not exactly. It was something darker, a heat that pooled in the lowest part of my belly as Chandler’s fingers dug into the bone of my jaw. He dragged my face up, forcing me onto my tiptoes. The world n
***Chandler's POV*** The heavy thud of the front doors reaching where I stood upstairs, behind the railings of the stairs. I didn't move, staying where I was. It was Olivia, her hair curled and down, wearing a black spaghetti strap top and a black and red striped, short skirt. She was supposed
***Olivia's POV*** My palm still throbbed with a painful heat, a physical reminder of the night before. Every time I closed my eyes, I didn’t see the dark pier or the cold wind. I felt the graze of his lips against my skin. I heard the rasp of my own name in his throat. "You’re quiet," Drake s







