“I didn’t even know that was possible,” she said, her eyes devouring his chest. “To look at a man’s body and want it so much I’d do anything.”
His hand followed her leg up to her thigh. She let her knee fall to the side. She was still fully covered, but he could see that hollow at the inside of her thigh. If he tucked his fingers beneath the fabric right there, he’d find her wet and ready.
“I think about you all the time, Jamie,” she confessed, her words falling to a whisper. “I think about your mouth on me. Your cock inside me…”
“Christ,” he breathed, lowering himself slowly over her, loving the way her hands touched him as her legs wrapped around his hips. When he kissed her, he bumped her glasses and she reached to take them off and toss them toward the table.
Jamie kissed her hard, and she sucked at his tongue as if she needed this as much as he did. Framing her face in his hands, he kissed her for a long, long minute, then dragged his open mouth down her neck. She smelled like him. His soap, his shampoo. She wore his clothes and his scent and she was in his bed. He wanted to snarl with satisfaction.
When she pulled his hand to her lips and sucked two fingers into her mouth, he did snarl. The heat…the wet suction…Jamie forgot all his intentions to be slow and gentle. Instead he pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth, feeling the strong muscle of her tongue work against him.
He tugged her shirt up and returned the favor by drawing her nipple between his teeth, making her cry out against his hand.
She hadn’t even touched his cock and he was already harder than he’d ever been, his skin so tight it hurt. He imagined her opening her lips over him, taking him in, sucking hard. He imagined thrusting against her tongue, opening her throat.
Jesus Christ, he could come just from the way she drew at his fingers.
Jamie shuddered and slipped lower down her body, determined that this would last longer than his body thought it could. He dipped his tongue into her belly button. Pressed his teeth to her hipbone. But when he moved lower, he had to slide his fingers free of the hot fantasy of her mouth. Her teeth nipped him in protest, but he was intent. He needed both his hands to drag the underwear off her hips and down her legs. He needed both hands to spread her thighs wide.
She was as wet as she’d promised.
Jamie’s mouth watered as he slipped his thumbs along the hollows of her thighs. When he brushed her sex, Olivia’s muscles jumped and her knees fell farther open, urging him on, as if he would deny her anything.
He kissed one thigh, then the other, then he traced his tongue along her folds, sighing as the taste of her flooded his mouth. She bucked when he touched her clit, so Jamie curled his arms around her hips and held her down so he could close his lips over the tight bud of nerves.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “That feels so good.” He pressed his tongue to her and she moaned louder. So began another game of seeing what noises he could coax from her. He teased and suckled and gently bit. He licked and nibbled then plunged his tongue deep into her pussy. When he worked his way back up to her clit, Olivia cried out, her hips fighting his hands. Jamie tightened his grip and got serious, concentrating all his attention on the strokes that made her shake and scream. Her clit was a tight, hard bud against his tongue, her thighs trembled, her screams turned to a choked gasp. It was over too soon. She moaned as the last spasms shook through her.
“Oh, God, Jamie…”
He stood and unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze on her fingers against her sex, her tight thighs still trembling. He felt strange. Not himself. Not charming and easy and smooth, but mindless and rough. He wanted to find out everything she’d never done, just so he could be the first. He wanted to take her so thoroughly that she’d have no inclination to move on to a third lover, or a fourth. Jamie pulled a condom from his pocket, then unzipped his jeans.
Olivia’s eyes opened. Her gaze slid to his zipper, then to the wrapper in his hand. “Wait,” she murmured as she pushed herself up. “Wait.”
What the hell could waiting accomplish? He set his jaw and did as she asked, and when she put her feet to the floor and slid off the bed, he was damn glad he had.
“Olivia,” he said as she went to her knees, forcing him back a step. “You don’t have to…” His body ordered his throat to close before he could finish the sentence.
Thank God Olivia ignored him and edged his jeans down. “I know. But I want to.”
She did. Hell, he knew she did by the way she’d sucked his fingers like a damn Popsicle earlier. Just the thought made his heart beat so hard that his vision blurred for a moment. But when Olivia reached for his briefs, Jamie blinked his vision clear.
His cock sprang free, and she immediately wrapped her hand around the base with a little sigh. He would have sighed, too, if he could only catch his breath. Then she licked her lips and there was no hope of that.
“You’re really big, you know that?”
He felt really fucking big right now, that was for sure.
Olivia slowly stroked all the way up his shaft, then down again. “I love the way it feels when you fuck me. Like I can just barely take it.”
Jamie heard himself breathing now, and he could feel the oxygen surging through his blood, making everything brighter, including her touch.
She drew her hand up again, and this time, she slipped her thumb over the head, smearing the drop of liquid across the ridge. His pulse rose to a frightening pace.
Jamie was just reaching out a hand to stop her when she carefully touched her tongue to his cock. He dropped his hand and watched as her pink tongue tasted him again. This time it swirled around his head, and lights flashed through his brain, blinding him for a moment.
“Mmm,” she murmured, and then he felt her lips slide over him.
“Oh, Christ,” he groaned.
She smiled against him, her eyes flashing up to watch him through her lashes.
Oh, Christ.
Her mouth closed over just the head, her tongue teasing against the ridge before she slid deeper. There was nothing hotter than this and there never would be. Olivia taking him in for the first time, her lips stretching around him…. Then she began to suck, and he forgot everything except how to feel.
His world became heat and slickness and suction. Her hand tightened at the base of his shaft as her mouth worked him.
He realized then that he’d been so focused on showing her pleasure that he hadn’t expected this. That only made it sweeter as she took him deep. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, then changed his mind and looked again.
Pleasure weighed heavy at the base of his cock and grew heavier with each draw of her hot mouth. “Olivia,” he murmured, wanting to speak her name.
She dipped her head deeper, and he felt her choke.
“Don’t,” he said, setting his hand to her hair. “Don’t do that. Just… You feel so good.” He didn’t need her to perform. He just needed
her.
She shifted her hand and Jamie gasped.
Olivia slid her mouth from him and looked up. “You like that?” She stroked him again.
“Yes,” he answered with the last of his breath. “I like that.”
She smiled. “Good,” she said, before she slid her mouth down him again.
He lost his ability to speak at that point. She worked her hand and mouth in a slow rhythm that pulled him under and drugged him with pleasure. He felt like coming already, and he didn’t want to. Not yet. Not when she was taking him deeper, her tongue a firm stroke against his shaft. Her mouth pure white heat.
Only sheer willpower helped him hold on. This first time with Olivia would never happen again. Hell, it might never happen again at all. So he forced the pleasure down as far as he could. He watched her mouth against his wet shaft and felt the tiny hum of her voice against his skin. And finally it was too much.
He slipped his fingers into her hair. “I’m going to come,” he ground out past clenched teeth.
Her sigh whispered over his cock.
“Olivia,” he warned, trying to ease her back, but she didn’t budge, and he wasn’t inclined to force her. Instead he let himself feel everything build inside him, the pleasure growing, building to an impossible weight. “Ah, shit,” he growled, then let it crash over him, breaking him down.
She squeezed him, milking him, her mouth still tight over the head. He knew she was swallowing him down, he could feel himself pulsing into her, and that made the climax so much sweeter.
When she finally let him go, Jamie spun on his heel and collapsed to the bed. He heard Olivia’s laugh and waved her up. “Come here.”
She collapsed beside him, and he realized they were both still half-dressed.
“You’re pretty good at that yourself,” he murmured.
“Liar.”
“Liar, my ass,” he countered.
He felt her rise up on her elbow. “You know what? I really, really
liked
that.”
He cracked one eye open to check her out. “You sound surprised.”
“I wanted it. With you. I
wanted
it.”
“That’s a first?” he asked lightly, pretending he wasn’t dying to hear her answer.
“Definitely.”
His heart flipped. “I told you I make everything fun.”
She slapped him before collapsing against his chest with laughter. But of course, it was a lie. She was the one making this great.
“Take off your shirt,” he said. “Take off
my
shirt.” She snuggled closer, and Jamie felt his heart flip again.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to give you two choices and neither works with a shirt.”
She smiled and he felt the movement against his skin. “What are the choices?”
“Sleep…or shower.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m exhausted. Sleep!”
“Come on. One of those ledges in the shower will make a good bench.”
“No.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
“You can lean on it. Sit on it, whatever you like.”
“Sleep.”
“You don’t have to do anything. Just sit there.”
She began to laugh again. “You just came. What do you even want with me?”
“Mmm. It involves soap. And nudity.”
“Jamie—”
He shoved off the bed and scooped her up. “Come on.”
“You’re crazy!”
“I’m a young man, Ms. Bishop. I bounce back. Isn’t that why you seduced me in the first place?” Her outraged shriek of laughter echoed against the bathroom tiles until Jamie stopped it with a kiss. And water. And soapy, soapy hands.
T
HERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN
a bounce in Olivia’s step the last time she’d set foot on campus, but now she was practically flying. She didn’t care who found out. She didn’t care who knew. Let them all see she was getting great sex and lots of it. Compared to being invisible, it was a nice way to walk through the world.
And it wasn’t just Jamie making her glow. She’d made a decision this morning. She was only thirty-five. Not even halfway through her working years. She couldn’t just give up and decide to do something she hated for the rest of her life.
To be fair, she didn’t actually
hate
it. Teaching was simply…nothing to her. Nothing good or fulfilling or happy. She’d taught because Victor had arranged a position for her. It was as simple as that. And every year she taught kids who moved on and graduated and went out into the world to do what
she
wanted to do. That was the awful part of it. That was the part that made her stomach churn and clench.
Walking across the grass—or maybe floating over it—Olivia headed straight for her office. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could simply quit her job and make her dreams come true. This was real life, not a Hollywood production. But she could work toward it every day. She could start crunching numbers and making plans and sketching out logos. In a year or two, maybe she’d be ready to start up her business part-time. The college would—
“Olivia!” The voice was distant enough that she had no idea who to expect when she turned around. Jamie or Victor or one of her colleagues. She tried not to let hope bubble up inside her as she scanned the lawn. A man raised his hand then, jogging toward her, and she bit back a smile at the sight of Paul. Did he have some sort of sixth sense for satisfied women?
“Hey,” he panted when he drew near.
“Good morning.”
“Just one second,” he said, holding up a finger as she drew in a few deep breaths. “Haven’t had my coffee yet.”
“No stamina?”
He frowned at that, and Olivia wished she could pull the words back. Probably not what a man liked to hear.
“So, I wondered if it was another time yet.”
“Another time?” she asked.
“You said I should ask you another time, and I
do
need coffee.”
She grinned at him, still thrilled with this new attention. And he was cute. He seemed to have spent the weekend outside as his skin had lost a little of its academic pallor. His pale gray eyes were now a striking contrast to his skin.
He raised a hopeful eyebrow at her study.
“I’m actually seeing someone right now,” Olivia said. His face fell. “But would you consider another blind date?”
“Oh.” A look of mild terror flashed in his eyes.
“I promise I’ve got good taste. She not only has a great personality, but she’s got a smokin’ bod.”
“A smokin’ bod?” he laughed.
“Yep.”
“Okay,” he admitted. “I’m intrigued.”
“Her name is Gwen. She works here at the university. But before this goes any further, let me be clear. Gwen’s in administration. She doesn’t have a degree, but she’s smart and determined. If you have a problem with that, tell me now.”
He looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”
“Tenured professor? Rising star? I need you to ask yourself whether you’re an arrogant ass.”
“An arrogant…” Paul burst into deep, rich laughter, and she had her answer. An arrogant ass would never laugh like that at himself. “I don’t think I am,” he said. “Do you want me to ask around?”
She grinned and shook her head. “No, you seem all right. So, what do you think? Are you interested?” Olivia leaned a little closer. “She already looked up your picture. She thinks you’re cute.”
His cheeks went slightly pink. “Oh, yeah? Well, I can hardly walk away from that, can I?”
Olivia suppressed the urge to clap her hands and bounce. “Okay. I’ll talk to Gwen.” She drew a business card from her purse and wrote Gwen’s phone number on the back. “Will you call her?”
He handed over one of his cards. “I’m putting my life in your hands. Can you live with that responsibility?”
“I’ll try.”
“Okay. I’ll trust you then. If you’re sure you’re already taken.”
“Not taken,” she corrected. “But definitely occupied.”
Olivia waved goodbye and continued on her path, but she detoured toward the hallway that led to Gwen’s office. Gwen was on the phone, so Olivia tossed the card on her desk and smiled.
“Absolutely,” Gwen said, picking up the card with a frown. “Monday at the latest. Yes. Uh-huh. Listen, a student just walked in, so I’ll have to talk to you next week. Thanks, again.” She set the phone in the cradle and pointed the card at Olivia. “What’s this about?”
“Paul is interested in a date. With you. He’s going to call.”
“What?”
“You’re welcome.” Olivia spun to walk away, but Gwen snagged her shirt.
“What do you mean he’s interested?”
“I told him about you and he’s going to call to ask you out.”
“Sight unseen?” she scoffed.
“Kind of. I told him you had a smokin’ bod.”
Gwen gasped. “You did not!”
“I did, too.”
“I haven’t done a sit-up in weeks!”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I was talking about your boobs and you know it. Your taut abs didn’t enter into the equation.”
“Olivia…” she started, puffing up in outrage, but a smile escaped her control. Then a laugh. “Oh, all right. I suppose…. Do you think he’ll call?”
“Definitely. I told him you thought his picture was cute and he blushed.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “He blushed? Really? That’s kind of adorable.”
“You should see it in person.”
“Maybe I will.”
Olivia left Gwen staring down at the card. It felt good to spread the joy around. And if Gwen started getting lucky they could go out and gloat together. That would be way more fun than a book club.
She floated through three hours of work in her office, using most of her time to begin a plan. By lunch she hadn’t actually built anything yet, but she’d assembled some pieces, she’d made some lists. She was just opening her online bank statement for the fourth time when the phone rang. She reached for it, her eyes touching on the numbers on the computer screen, hoping they’d ticked up since the last time she’d looked. She hadn’t been vicious enough with Victor over the settlement. She hadn’t wanted the fight.
“Olivia Bishop,” she said into the phone.
“Olivia,” her mother said. She always sounded vaguely disapproving. Always. Olivia had learned not to take it personally.
“Hello, Mom.”
“I was just calling to tell you that your father and I are off to Vancouver for two weeks. We’re leaving tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, I’m glad you called. I’d totally forgotten. Have a great time.”
“We will. Or at least your father will. You know how much he loves being on the water.” Her voice suggested that there was something indefinably distasteful about that. Olivia had gotten through her teenage years by pretending her mom had a speech impediment that made her sound critical no matter the place or situation.
“Well,” she said brightly, hoping to cut her mom off. “Call me when you—”
“What are you up to this summer? Dating anyone?”
Good Lord. Not this again. “Mom—”
“It’s time to get back in the game, darling. Nobody likes a quitter.”
“Thanks,” she muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m not trying to be cruel, but you’re thirty-five. You don’t have the luxury of nursing your wounds for years. You—”
“Mom, I’m a little busy for dating.”
“Doing what? Working? You university people don’t work nearly as hard as your father and I did, and we always had time to socialize.”
Yes, they certainly had. Half their weeknights had been spent at dinners with VIPs. “I’m busy. I’m supporting myself. And…I’m working on a side project, too.” She thought immediately of Jamie and pushed that thought away. “I’m thinking of starting my own business.” For a split second, she wondered if her mom might perk up at that. Maybe she wouldn’t reach approval, but she might possibly crest neutral. Her mother admired nothing more than entrepreneurs.
“Your own business?” she asked. Her voice crackled with doubt, sinking Olivia’s expectations. “What kind of business?”
“Do you remember what my plans were when I went to school? What I wanted to do?”
“Oh, darling. Not that again. That’s not the life for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not a shark, are you?”
Olivia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “Mom…what are you talking about?”
“You’re not a predator, Olivia. You need someone.”
“Someone for what?” she snapped.
“Someone to take care of you. Your father and I felt Victor was a little old for a girl your age, but at least we knew he’d support you.”
Olivia felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. The chill spread from there, easing down her back and along her arms. This was what her mom had been trying to tell her for the past year. All the hints. All the disapproving comments and worried warnings. She’d never said it outright before, but this had been the crux of it all.
You’re weak.
“Why would you say that to me?”
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t take it the wrong way. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve always been serious and quiet and smart. You always did what we asked you to.”
“I was trying to be a good daughter.”
“And you were! That’s what I mean. You’ve always been a lovely girl. Always.”
“I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a grown woman.”
“Of course you are, sweetheart.”
The condescension in her mother’s voice made Olivia’s hands tremble. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.” She hung up before her mom could object. If Olivia stayed on one more moment, she’d start screaming.
Unbelievable.
On one hand, she was shocked. On the other, she wasn’t surprised at all. It had all been right there for so many years.
Sit down and be nice so somebody will put up with you.
Be good. Be quiet. Don’t cause trouble.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pressing her trembling hands to her face. They’d taught her to be an obedient daughter who didn’t cause trouble, and now her mother held it up as a fatal flaw.
Though Olivia watched the phone nervously, her mom didn’t call her back. She didn’t want to have a deep, difficult conversation any more than Olivia did. So Olivia turned her eyes to the charts she’d printed out. The tables and graphs and lists. The future she wanted to build out of nothing.
You’re not a shark.
Maybe she wasn’t. She’d certainly given up all her dreams easily enough before. And hadn’t it been a bit of a relief? Hadn’t it felt like a burden had been lifted when she’d finally given in to Victor’s plans?
The numbers blurred for a moment, turning into columns of sooty, shifting liquid.
Don’t let her under your skin,
she told herself. That’s what those chills had been. It had been her mother’s doubt slipping beneath the surface of Olivia’s body,
infecting
her.
Olivia pushed to her feet and walked out to the hallway to make her way to the little galley kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee that was alarmingly black, but steam coiled up from it, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t add sugar or cream, she simply cradled the cup in her hands to warm them. When she got back to her seat, she took one sip and then another. She drank the whole cup, and by the time the coffee was gone, the chills had passed and Olivia felt better. Much better. She wasn’t floating, but she wasn’t stumbling, either.
She closed the online bank statement without looking at it again. It didn’t matter how small her savings were. She’d build them up. She’d make a way.
Even the most docile pet could turn dangerous when it needed to survive, and everything inside her was filling up with the instinct to fight.