Bad Boys Do (Hqn)

by Victoria Dahl

  “I like that. I like watching you in your sweet little skirts and your cardigan sweaters and your glasses. You look so untouchable.”

  Olivia felt a sharp stab of regret, because that was the real her. She knew that, but she wanted something more. When she closed her eyes, Jamie’s thumb touched her mouth, startling every nerve in her body.

  “I like you like that, because when I look at you, so buttoned-up and reserved, I picture you in the hot tub, naked, steam rising around you—”

  “Jamie,” she whispered, and the tip of his thumb eased between her lips.

  “—your head thrown back as you ride me. Your lips parting as you come.”

  Lust crashed hard into her. She drew his thumb deep into her mouth and sucked at it, loving the way his breath broke into a groan.

  “Olivia,” he rasped. When she rubbed her tongue against the pad of his thumb, he growled and pressed his body to hers. He slid his thumb from between her lips, dragging the wetness down her chin as he kissed her hard. He plunged his tongue deep, letting her know he was just as aroused as she was.

  The wine made her reckless enough to edge her feet apart so he could fit his knee between hers. His thigh pressed snug against her sex as she slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him deeper. Everything inside her burned for this, but when his hand covered her breast, her whimper was half in need and half alarmed. It was dark, but they were still in public, and Olivia hadn’t had nearly enough wine for this.

  When she turned her head away, Jamie’s mouth slid to her neck as he dragged his fingers over her nipple.

  “No,” she whimpered, even as she pulled him closer. She edged one knee higher on his leg, and Jamie rocked his thigh into her until she moaned.

  “We can’t do this,” she whispered.

  “Do what?”

  “This. We’ll get into trouble.”

  “We’re just kissing,” he countered, nibbling his way along her jaw.

  “No,” she groaned. “This isn’t just kissing. It’s…”

  “It’s fun,” he said, rocking against her again. “And no one can see.”

  God, he was right. It was fun, and they were all alone in the dark. Surely they’d hear footsteps first if anyone came near. His fingers plucked at her nipple. His mouth sucked at her pulse. Everything inside her tightened.

  She sighed his name and let her head fall back as his hand found her neckline and snuck beneath. The moment his bare skin rasped against her breast, Olivia was lost. She’d never done anything like this, but she wanted to. She wanted to climax right here, with only the darkness hiding her from the rest of the world.

  But she’d forgotten that darkness was a faulty shield. And, more importantly, that bus stops were always located on streets. Even from behind closed eyelids, she caught the glow of light and opened her eyes. “Car!” she gasped, scrambling to get her foot back on the ground and untangle her fingers from Jamie’s hair.

  He cursed and pulled his hand free of her dress just as the lights caught them head-on. Olivia held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut until the car whipped past and they were plunged back into darkness.

  “I told you!” she cried.

  “Crap.”

  She pushed him until his knee wasn’t wedged between her thighs. “Jamie!”

  “Okay, sorry. You were right. I just…wanted to.”

  In the face of that declaration, she could hardly muster the will to be outraged. “Let me be clear. I only want to have the kind of fun that won’t get me arrested.”

  “You sure? That’d be a pretty wild experience.”

  She shoved him again, but he just chuckled and leaned in for one last kiss. She kept her lips tight together to prevent another disaster.

  “All right,” he sighed. “Even I’m not up for seeing the inside of a jail cell. And at this point, I’m not entirely sure my family would bail me out. Maybe we should head home.”

  “Maybe!” she said, but she couldn’t hide her grin as they set out toward her place. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  “Nah. I’m just horny. I don’t know what your excuse is, though.”

  “Wine,” she said dryly, as if she weren’t still painfully aroused. As if she hadn’t spent every waking hour looking forward to having him again. Her palm tingled when he took her hand and wove his fingers through hers.

  “So, tell me what you used to do for fun.”

  Olivia frowned. “That’s a silly question. I already told you I wasn’t fun.”

  “I don’t believe that. You’re a natural.”

  “No, I’m not. For fun, I…I run. And I read. I go to museums.”

  “Whoa!” Jamie said. “You sprang that one on me too fast.”

  She elbowed him with as much dignity as she could manage.

  “What I meant was…tell me what you did for fun when you were younger. Before Victor. Even you were a teenager once. You must have done something for fun. Music. Parties. Boys.”

  Boys. Olivia cleared her throat, because it was clogged with the secret that there hadn’t been any boys. Not really. But he’d touched on something important. She had had a life before Victor, even if it had been a rather innocent one. “I used to Rollerblade. I liked country music. I played softball until I was fourteen. And…I loved amusement parks.”

  He looked at her.

  “Roller coasters,” she clarified.

  “Roller coasters? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well,” he said. “All right then. I think we know what our next assignment is going to be. Are you free on Sunday?”

  “Why?” she asked warily.

  “Because I don’t have another full day off until then, and we can’t do Elitch Gardens in two hours.”

  Olivia opened her mouth to protest, then realized she had no idea why she’d say no. She hadn’t been on a roller coaster since college, and why not? Because Victor hadn’t liked them. How pitiful was that? She’d seen the ads for the new coaster at Elitch Gardens. It looked amazing. “Okay. Yes. Sunday it is.”

  A streetlamp caught them in its glow, and Olivia glanced up to see Jamie’s hair still mussed from her grip. She’d done that to him, and satisfaction filled her up at the thought.

  Maybe she wasn’t so boring, after all. She certainly wasn’t boring around Jamie. So maybe his question was more significant than it seemed.

  In the end, maybe Victor had been the one who wasn’t any fun. He hadn’t liked roller coasters, after all. Or country music. Or batting cages. Or board games. Or baseball stadiums. Or zoos.

  Olivia had liked all those things when she was younger, and then… And then she’d met Victor.

  But that wasn’t fair. She’d been twenty-two. It had been time to grow up, hadn’t it? She’d finished college. She’d been an adult. And adults did adult things like going to cocktail parties and attending the opera. Adults read important books and discussed politics and worked hard at supporting a spouse’s career.

  Victor’s career.

  So maybe she hadn’t been boring. Maybe she’d just been so busy trying to be what Victor had needed that she’d been…less. Less than everyone else. Less than those girls who caught his eye and held his attention.

  Screw him. All this fun she was having, all this time with Jamie… Olivia hoped she was becoming more like herself every day.

  “I didn’t want to teach,” she blurted out, saying into the dark what she couldn’t say in a brightly lit room. “I never even thought about being a teacher. I wanted to work on restaurant start-ups. I wanted to have my own business. The excitement of it. The risk. The challenge. That was how I wanted to have fun. Before.”

  Before Victor, she meant. Before she’d acted like every other stupid girl in the world.

  Jamie nodded, not saying a word, and she was happy about that. Happy, because saying it had felt good and she didn’t want to ruin it with figuring out why. She didn’t want to delve into cloying regret tonight.

  When they came to the sidewalk th
at wound through her apartment complex, Olivia began to worry about what would happen next. Not the sex. She’d acclimated to that pretty quickly. But this part, this awkward transition part, she didn’t know how to deal with. Should she invite him in? Should she just assume he’d follow her? Did she have to make it clear she wanted him to stay? Would he spend the night?

  Olivia couldn’t believe people did this all the time.

  “I’m impressed,” Jamie said. “You haven’t checked the time once.”

  “I don’t want to know how late it is.”

  “It’s late,” he said as they stepped up to her door. “Very late.”

  Oh, God, did that mean he wanted to stay or go? How could she be so doubtful after they’d nearly had sex right on the street?

  “Jamie,” she said as she opened the door. “It’s late, b—”

  “Let me stay,” he urged, curving his arm around her waist before she could even turn back to him. “Let me stay.” He pressed against her back, his body fitting perfectly to hers.

  “You’re kidding, right? I was going to lure you in and lock the door behind you.”

  “Thank God,” he murmured, his mouth already searching out her neck. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  Olivia dropped her purse to the floor and turned into him, reaching for the buttons of his shirt as his mouth found hers. It seemed weeks since she’d been in his bed. Months. She pushed his plaid shirt off his shoulders, then slipped her hands under his T-shirt. His skin felt five times hotter than hers as she slid her arms around his ribs. When she dragged her nails along his back, he jumped.

  Too impatient for slow exploration, she pushed his shirt up. “Are you ticklish?”

  “A little,” he said, his voice muffled by the cotton as he dragged the shirt the rest of the way off. She was busy tasting the heat of his chest. “Mmm,” she hummed, making his skin jerk. “Just a little ticklish?”

  “Maybe more like a medium amount.”

  “God, that’s so cute. How did I not notice before?”

  “You were busy mauling me?”

  “Right,” she whispered, distracted by the feel of the crisp hair on his chest. When she moved her hands down his sides, he shivered. “Sorry. I was only…” Olivia was too excited to keep speaking. Instead of explaining, she unbuckled his belt and popped open his button-fly jeans, one…slow…button at a time.

  “Did I mention how cute you are?” she asked, eyeing the bulge in his black boxer briefs.

  “You may have said— Oh, Christ.”

  She couldn’t fit her fingers all the way around him past the fabric, so she gave up and slipped her hand beneath the band. “Ticklish?” she asked when he jumped.

  “No,” he answered. “Not one fucking bit.”

  “Mmm.” Even now her fingers just barely met around his shaft. Cute didn’t come close, not once you got below the belt. Below the belt, Jamie was glorious.

  She stroked him, and he kissed her, his hands gliding along the neckline of her dress, easing the knit material over her shoulders and down her arms. She stroked him again, kissing him harder when she felt the slick wetness at the head of his cock, rubbing it down over his shaft and making him groan.

  “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered. Jamie nodded and started dragging her backward. She couldn’t believe she could manage to laugh and be so incredibly aroused at the same time, but she found herself giggling. “That’s the kitchen,” she said, sad that she had to let go of him so she could turn him in the right direction.

  Jamie grabbed her hand and hauled her to the bedroom. “That’s a tall bed,” he muttered when he saw her big four-poster bed.

  “I know. It’s—”

  “Perfect. Come here.”

  “What?”

  He tugged her dress the rest of the way down, trapping her arms for a moment. She hadn’t worn a bra tonight. In fact, she’d purposefully left it off, and now she was damn glad, because Jamie ducked down and drew her nipple into his mouth without any hesitation at all. Still trapped, all she could do was throw back her head and feel.

  “You’re so sensitive,” he said softly, his breath whispering ice over her nipple. “I love that.”

  She shivered and wished, just for a moment, that her hands were free to cover herself. Her breasts were nothing to look at. Nothing at all. But he kissed her one more time as if he really did like them. Then he peeled her dress all the way off before turning her around.

  She blinked in surprise, and her eyes widened in shock when he put a hand between her shoulder blades and gently bent her down. Her thighs were against the edge of the bed, and with his hand pushing her forward, she had no choice but to lean over.

  Her hands touched the mattress, then her stomach. Then her cheek. She spread her fingers wide and held her breath, waiting. Finally, Jamie’s hand smoothed down her back. He caught the edge of her panties and pulled them down in one easy motion.

  She was completely exposed to him now. Naked, but for her heels. Open in front of him. Her heart beat so hard she could feel it like a drum in her ears. Beyond that pulsing rush of blood, she heard the faint shift of fabric, the soft thump of his shoes hitting the floor, the rustle of a condom wrapper. And then his hand gripped her hip.

  Olivia closed her eyes and laid her cheek flat to the bed. This felt almost…impersonal, yet that somehow made it more intimate. She felt incredibly vulnerable, waiting for him to have her.

  She expected him to simply push into her and braced herself for the shock of it, but apparently he had different ideas. She felt his fingers slide along her, tracing a slippery path to her clit. She gasped at the touch, her eyes fluttering open, then widening. She was stunned to find herself staring right at an erotic picture.

  Not a picture. Her mirror.

  And there she was, bent over and helpless, half her face hidden by the deep red comforter. Jamie stood behind her, totally nude, cock standing thick and proud. She expected to meet his gaze in the mirror, but apparently he hadn’t noticed it. His head was bent, his eyes narrowed at the sight of her, as his hand— “Ah,” she cried, watching her own face go tense as he slid two thick fingers inside her. His face went tight, too, as he slowly worked his fingers in and out, in and out. Olivia watched it like a movie, amazed to see her own face, her own body, being used like this. His fingers slid out, and Olivia held her breath as he reached for his cock. He wrapped his hand around it, pushing the condom farther down as he eased closer. She felt the nudge of his head as she watched his grip spread wider over her hip. He dragged himself along her sex, sliding against her clit in one slow, delicious stroke.

  Olivia gripped the comforter, digging her fingers into the down, biting her lip until it went numb. He never once looked up. He was busy watching his shaft work against her. Her hips jerked when he pressed against her clit again, and she imagined what she must look like, so wet and swollen.

  Finally, he notched the head against her and pushed in slowly. His jaw jumped with tension. The skin over his cheekbones was tight and flushed. Olivia let her breath slowly out, as if her body needed to make room for his. He stretched her until she was filled up with him, uncomfortable in the most perfect way. Long seconds later, his hips were snug against her ass, and she was panting against the pressure.

  Olivia edged her feet a tiny bit wider. Jamie pulled her hips back, tilting them up, arching her back a little farther. He eased slowly out of her, then plunged deep. When she cried out, her eyelids fluttered shut, but she forced them back open. She didn’t want to miss a second of this, so she bit her lip and clenched her hands and watched as Jamie Donovan fucked her.

  He was a gorgeous machine, all tightening muscles and tanned skin as he steadily drove himself deeper and deeper, each thrust turning his jaw to granite. And the whole time, his eyes blazed as he watched himself fuck her.

  For Olivia, it was a like a movie. A filthy, pornographic movie, except that it was her starring in it. Her. And she could feel everything…every stroke, every thrust. She wan
ted to scream, but she only whimpered and held tighter and tighter.

  His hands slid higher, shaping her waist for a moment before he steadied his grip on her hips again, his fingers digging harder as his movements grew more brutal.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Oh, yes. Harder.”

  His gaze flickered up to her face, and his expression grew even fiercer. It was all too much. The sight of it so wrong and so arousing. Olivia felt everything inside her curl tighter and tighter, and her clit felt so hard it hurt. She’d never come like this, from just sex…no touching, hardly any foreplay, just her being used like a sex object.

  “Jamie,” she whimpered, as pleasure grew close to pain for one endless moment.

  “Yes,” he urged, his fingers digging in, adding to that pain until it all broke open with a wrenching shift that made her scream and scream until her voice turned to a rasp.

  “Oh, God,” she panted. “Jamie. Oh, my God.”

  “I can’t…” he groaned. “Olivia, I…”

  Her eyes cleared just in time to see his grimace of awful pleasure, and then he was coming, his muscles pressing against his skin as he drove himself into her. Afterward, he held his body perfectly still, his grip easing by slow degrees. Olivia allowed her body to relax as she stared in stunned exhaustion at their reflections.

  His eyes finally opened, and he watched her for a long while before his brow furrowed and he followed her gaze to the mirror. Their eyes locked and Jamie’s jaw dropped.

  “Holy shit,” he breathed.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I know.”

  “How did you… What…?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  He looked down at her body, then back at the mirror. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me there was a show?”

  Olivia began to laugh. She shook so hard that Jamie finally let her go so she could sink into the mattress. Her sex felt cold without him.

  “Okay, we have to do that again. Not fair, Olivia.”

  “It looked like you had a pretty good view from where you were.”

  Surprise flashed over his face, chased by a cute pink blush. “Yeah, you’re right.”