He took a deep, quiet breath, then slipped his fingers over the tight pearl of her clitoris.
“Oh,” she said again, her hips jerking against him.
He was back in control now, somehow, in the quiet water. He could think a little, and he knew he didn’t want this to end in the next few minutes. So he touched her slowly, carefully, drawing out her sounds of pleasure again. He followed the folds of her sex, teased her clit, tortured her by tracing her opening without ever pushing inside. And it was torture for him, too. To have his cock pressed so tightly between their bodies when everything he wanted was inches away.
Finally she dragged his face up and kissed him hard. “Jesus, you’re good at this,” she growled against his mouth.
He gave a pained laugh as she sat back.
“Do you have…protection?”
Why the fuck had he left his jeans five hundred miles away? He gestured vaguely toward them, but couldn’t look away from the site of her perched on his thighs. Her breasts were lovely, her nipples still hard and dark, and now he could see all the way down to the dark triangle of hair between her legs.
“Jamie,” she said, her voice urgent. “Condoms?”
“In my jeans,” he managed to grumble.
She leaned forward again, her body squeezing his cock so hard he saw stars of pleasure. Her arm reached past him to snag the pile of clothes.
“Thanks,” he gasped, taking the jeans from her hands to pull a condom out. Then he paused for an awkward moment, trapped by her body.
“Oh,” she said, scooting back to drop off his knees.
Jamie stood, slipping the condom on, aware of the way her eyes took him in. As he sank back into the water he grabbed her hand and floated her toward him. He slid a little lower so she’d have room to put her knees on the seat and kneel above him. Then he took his cock in hand and guided her down. He could watch through the clear water. When the head notched against her opening, he heard the way she drew in a deep breath and held it.
Then she eased down, her body taking him in, closing around him. He heard every flutter of her breath, every small gasp as his cock sank deeper.
Jamie didn’t breathe at all. He was too busy feeling the tightness and the pressure. He was too busy watching as he pushed inside her.
Her hand pressed against his chest. Her fingers spread wide. “Wait,” she gasped, breathing harder.
Jamie waited, his teeth clenched as he felt her muscles twitch around him, then ease slightly.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Thank God. Jamie finally drew a breath, then settled her down the last couple of inches. And for a moment that was it. That was all they needed. They both held still, letting the hot water calm around them. She stared down at the place where their bodies joined, as if she were as enthralled as he.
And it was quiet. So quiet. Birds sang. A car passed on his street. Far away, a lawn mower buzzed.
Jamie swept his hands up her hips, her waist, until he cupped her breasts. He teased his thumbs over her nipples and her hips jerked. Hell, yeah. That was all that was needed to break the lethargy. She rolled her hips into him with a tortured sigh. He let her set the pace. At first she was slow and easy, but when he pinched her nipples, Olivia took him faster, slamming her hips hard into him when he teased more roughly.
His orgasm was already building at the base of his cock, so Jamie tried not to think about how hot she looked. How her lean body arched back as she rode him, thrusting her breasts more firmly into his touch. He tried not to notice that he could see his shaft slide out of her when she rose, tried not to feel the impossible tightness of her pussy when she slid back down. He tried not to hear the soft, dark sound of her holding back her cries so the neighbors wouldn’t hear.
But when her whimpers grew louder and her hips worked faster, Jamie knew he couldn’t hold out much more. He slid a little lower in the water, easing her farther back, then he braced one hand on her hip and slipped the other between them. He could feel the perfect contrast of his hardness and her yielding sex, but lust made him clumsy, and it took him a moment to find the right spot.
“Oh, God,” she whispered when he finally stroked her clit. “Jamie. Oh, God.” She kept her movements tight and quick now. He gritted his teeth against the constant pleasure. “Oh, God,” she whispered over and over, while Jamie prayed for strength. Finally her whisper became a sob, and her hips spasmed against him, her sex squeezing impossibly tight. She buried her face in his neck and cried his name on a muffled scream, and he dug his fingers into her hip until the spasms stopped.
Her thighs were still shaking, but he eased her up until she sat above him again, eyes dazed.
And now he let himself notice everything as he braced her hips and surged into her. Her tousled hair and sleepy eyes. The way her flushed mouth parted on a hard gasp when he sank himself to the hilt. The jut of her nipples so dark against her pale skin.
She cried his name again, and he growled with satisfaction as he thrust into her with brutal lust. Finally, he came, grunting past his clenched teeth as he worked himself inside her until every last jolt of pleasure was done.
As soon as he loosened his hold, she collapsed against him, her body draping over his as if she were boneless.
Jamie managed a bark of strained laughter. “You okay?”
“No,” she said against his shoulder.
“No?”
“No. I feel…full. And sore.”
“Oh, sorry. I—”
“And that wasn’t anything like fun.”
“Um…” He pulled his head back, trying to read her face. “Olivia—”
“That was…metaphysical perfection.”
She started to laugh and Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. “Really? Well, that blows away ‘You’re a great kisser.’ Metaphysical perfection?”
“Don’t get a big head,” she said. “I was there, too.”
“Yeah, you definitely were.”
“And…was I fun?” She was still smiling, but when she sat back to meet his gaze, he could see in her eyes that the question was real enough. Her hands rose to cover her breasts. Jamie tugged them away.
“Hey.” He wrapped his fingers around hers and held her gaze. “You were a lot like perfect yourself.”
Now her smile looked real. She bit her lip, looking like a proud schoolgirl. Damned appropriate. And between that naughty smile and her naked breasts and the fact that he was still inside her, Jamie felt his cock stir.
Her smile turned into an O of surprise.
“Be careful who you show all that fun to, Olivia,” he said. “It’s dangerous.”
“I’m going to have to learn my own strength.”
He winced when she laughed, but he did it with a smile. “All right, but let’s test the boundaries of your newfound powers in bed this time. I don’t want to know what pruning looks like on my junk.”
She stood quickly, leaving him biting back a groan. And this time, when she stood naked next to the hot tub, she didn’t ask him to turn around. “Hurry up, Mr. Donovan. Class resumes in five minutes.”
“Five minutes,” he muttered. But he thought that with Olivia, he just might be able to pull it off.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT HARDLY SEEMED POSSIBLE that only a few hours had passed since Olivia had left her apartment. As she hurried up the walk that wound between the little cottage-like duplexes, her hair brushed her neck, and a few of the strands were still damp against her skin.
My word.
Olivia kept her head down, because there was no way to hide the wide smile on her face, and she wanted to keep it secret. She wanted to hold it close and never tell a soul. Not because she was ashamed, but because if she let the secret free, it might dissipate. She couldn’t bear to let a moment of it go.
“Where the hell have you been?” a male voice growled from the direction of her tiny porch.
Her head snapped up as she tucked her secret smile away. Her ex-husband was pushing up from the steps, hi
s brow drawn low with tension.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried sick. I’ve been calling all day!”
“I was busy.” She brushed past him and pulled her keys from her purse.
“I called early this morning.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I was out for my run. Don’t pretend you didn’t know that.”
He followed her up the stairs. “It was eight-thirty, Olivia. You don’t run at eight-thirty. I called your home phone and your cell.”
Guilt turned her cheeks pink. Of all things, she felt guilty about waking up late and heading out for a run at eight instead of six.
“What is going on with you?” he pressed. “You’ve been acting really weird.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
Him? Every cell in her body seemed to surge toward her skin at the thought of Jamie.
“You didn’t come home last night, did you? Jesus, Olivia, that boy looks young enough to be one of your students.”
She turned the knob and her door swung slowly open, revealing her home just as she’d left it. Everything normal and neat and in place. But her emotions nearly disintegrated at the sight.
It didn’t make any sense. That she was standing here, looking exactly the same, surrounded by the same things. Yet she’d just done something completely ridiculous. Something dirty and delicious and irresponsible. Something that had felt better than everything that had ever come before it.
And now Victor—Victor—was following her in, saying nonsensical words to her. Saying the most ridiculous, hypocritical, utter shit to her.
She dropped her keys on the table, missing the little ceramic dish by a mile and not caring.
She set down her purse and tossed her sweater over a chair instead of hanging it up.
Then she turned to face her ex-husband. “You have got to be kidding me,” she pushed past her clenched jaw.
“Olivia—”
“No. What I meant was, You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
He cringed at the sound of that word coming from her mouth. Truthfully, she cringed a little, too, but it was a relief. Like lancing a wound.
“You’re in my house, asking about my personal life? You? It’s none of your business, in case you aren’t clear on that.”
“It’s my business when you’re flaunting your life in front of my friends and colleagues. He’s a beer slinger? What the hell were you thinking, bringing him to a university function?”
This was so outrageous that Olivia actually laughed. “I’m sorry, but…really? Really? You want to know something truly delicious? He is one of my students, Victor. And I was probably thinking the same thing you were when you brought one of your students to a party. Allison. Rachel. Whoever that girl was two years ago.”
“Those women are all pursuing—”
“I was thinking that maybe I’d like to fuck him.”
Victor’s face drained of color as if he were a shaken Etch A Sketch, wiped clean of detail. He rocked back on his heels. “You’ve gone off the deep end,” he whispered. “You’ve finally lost it.”
“The complete opposite, actually.”
“A woman your age, chasing after some young stud. It’s pitiful.”
Pitiful. After everything he’d done. In that moment, she hated him, and she wanted to wound him as he’d wounded her. “Pitiful?” she sneered. “It wasn’t pitiful a half hour ago, when he had me up against his head-board.”
Victor blinked and stepped back. For a split second, she saw something broken inside him. Regret and sadness. “I can’t believe you,” he hissed.
Hating the bolt of regret she felt, Olivia crossed her arms in defense. “Stop calling me. And don’t come over. Just live your life and leave me to mine. It has nothing to do with you anymore.”
He flashed a bitter, twisted smile. “Nothing to do with me? That’s rich. It obviously has everything to do with me.”
“Wrong. This is about me.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Olivia. If that’s what gets you through this disgusting little phase, you pretend it has nothing to do with me.”
“Get out,” she said quietly.
Victor drew something from the pocket of his coat and set it on the counter. “I was just bringing you the transfer information from the 403-B. It finally came through. That should be the last thing, thank God.”
“If you get anything else, could you please just mail it?”
“With pleasure.” He left, slamming the door so hard that the keys slipped off the table and landed on the tile with a crack.
Olivia stood there, stunned, not breathing. When she finally drew a breath, she realized that Victor had ruined it. He’d ruined it, turning it into something sad and vengeful. That bastard. Aside from his flaunting of women, he’d been perfectly civil to her throughout the divorce. So civil that he’d nearly driven her mad. But the moment she started to move on, he turned vicious.
Why?
Olivia picked up her keys and put them in the dish where they belonged. Then she set her purse on the chair and hung her sweater in the hall closet. The motions helped her feel a little better, but she couldn’t stop the regret from pouring through her.
She’d been right. She’d let her secret out, and now the deliciousness was gone. After all, a thing couldn’t be perfect and vengeful at the same time, could it?
“Crap,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. When she opened her eyes, the living room had gone crooked. She blinked half a dozen times to get her contacts back in place, cursing herself the whole time. No, she wasn’t going to let Victor take this from her.
No.
She’d been daring. She’d been brave. She’d stepped so far out of her comfort zone that she hadn’t even been able to see it anymore. A younger man. A hot younger man. She’d gone to his house. She’d stripped down to nothing and skinny-dipped in his hot tub. She’d ridden him in his hot tub.
And suddenly a little of the deliciousness was back. Impossible not to feel it when she was remembering him pushing into her. Filling her. Stretching her. That first time, that first orgasm… My God, she’d never felt anything like it. The way her body had squeezed him as she came. The way he’d felt even bigger, even wider.
“God,” she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief.
Was it him? Or was it her? Good Lord, it didn’t matter. She just wanted more of it. And no way was she going to let Victor take that away from her. She wasn’t going to let herself doubt that Jamie had wanted it, too. She wasn’t going to wonder how many times he’d done that with other women. She wasn’t going to worry that he was just using her. She was using him, too, wasn’t she? And if he’d done that with other women, good for him. The practice had paid off in spades.
“Fuck Victor,” she said, and even if her voice sounded a little uncertain, she was glad she’d said it. If she never said the F word again, she’d used it wisely today.
And she’d enacted it damn well, too, if she did say so herself.
JAMIE FOUND HIMSELF DRIFTING, unable to concentrate on the conversation raging around him.
As if he didn’t see his siblings enough at work, his sister was enforcing the Sunday family dinner again in an effort to shove them all closer together. At the time she’d announced it, Jamie hadn’t minded much. After all, it meant at least one solid home-cooked meal a week. But now he couldn’t help resenting it.
He’d had to send Olivia home. It was way too early in the relationship to ask her over for Sunday dinner at the old homestead. And since he’d canceled last Sunday, his sister had threatened him with violence if he canceled again. But he hadn’t been ready to end the day. Hell, he would’ve liked the day to keep going right through until Monday morning.
The sex had been…intense. More intense than he’d expected. He hadn’t slept with anyone in months, and the last time had been a bad experience, but it w
asn’t just that. For the past couple of years, whatever brief connections he’d had with women had felt empty. He’d never slept around as much as everyone suspected, although he’d had some fun in his early twenties. But fun wasn’t an emotion. It was just an experience. And any experience could get boring after a while.
But today, with Olivia…that had been emotion. With plenty of fun thrown in.
“Hey!” A hand passed in front of his face.
Jamie shot his sister an irritated look. “What?”
“I said I’m planning a Fourth of July barbecue the Sunday after the Fourth. Does that work for you?”
“Sure.”
“You’re in charge of sparklers.”
“Sparklers? What’s Eric in charge of?”
“Beer,” Tessa said. “I’m taking care of food. And Luke’s bringing plates and stuff.”
Jamie gaped at her in disbelief. “I’m in charge of sparklers? It’s a family barbecue and your boyfriend is bringing more than I am.” He pointed an accusing finger at Luke. “He’s not even part of the family.”
Tessa rolled her eyes. “Fine. You bring plates and cups and napkins. And sparklers. Luke can help me with the food.”
“Oh, are you sure you trust me?” Jamie snapped. He turned his irritation on Tessa’s boyfriend. “And I’ve noticed your truck is here an awful lot.”
Luke smiled. “Hard to believe, but I like spending time with my girlfriend.”
“Yeah. A lot of night time. Nearly every time I close the brewery, I drive by and see your car here.”
Tessa gasped. “Are you checking up on me?”
“Please. I’ve been checking up on you for years.”
“What?” she screeched.
“Tessa,” he said impatiently. “You live alone in a big house. Of course I drive by to make sure you’re okay. But I guess you’ve got police protection now.”
Said policeman, Detective Luke Asher, smiled like an angel from the other side of the table. Angel, my ass, Jamie thought. He’d gone to school with Luke. The guy wasn’t any more of an angel than Jamie. Which was exactly why Jamie was glaring at him.
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