When they got to his place, Jamie grabbed two dozen takeout menus and piled them on the kitchen table. “Choose anything you want. I’m going to jump in the shower really quick, and then it’s all yours.”
He showered in record time, then toweled off and yanked on clean underwear and jeans. His bedroom door opened as he was reaching for a T-shirt.
“Oh, you’re out,” Olivia said. “I was suddenly worried I was supposed to join you. Shower initiation.”
She’d never done it in a shower? Jamie fumbled the shirt, but managed to catch it before it hit the floor. He dragged it over his head as quickly as he could. “Ha! No. I’m in charge of food, remember? Did you make a decision?”
Olivia cocked her head. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Why?”
“You seem stressed. Are you still angry?”
“Nope. No way. I just felt rude leaving you out there. And I didn’t want to use all the hot water. And I’m starving.”
She shrugged. “Okay. How about Vietnamese?”
“Absolutely. Anything you want.”
“Anything?” she asked, her gaze dipping down his body.
Jamie was surprised by the hard twist of lust in his gut. He still felt nervous, but just the stroke of her gaze down his body, and blood rushed to his dick. There was some chemistry between them that had nothing to do with him teaching her how to have fun. It got stronger every time he saw her, as if each round of sex layered another degree of heat between them.
He suddenly didn’t give a damn about his nervousness. He was just glad she was here. By the time he’d ordered the food and grabbed his keys, Jamie had a new reason for rushing. Olivia was strolling back toward his bedroom, and he knew that if he heard her turn the shower on, he wouldn’t make it out the door. Shower initiation, indeed.
Yeah, his nervousness was definitely gone. The meaning of her revelation had finally sunk in. The things they’d done together, the things they would do…it was all new for her. She’d only ever been with her husband, in a serious relationship. Jamie was only the second man to touch her, to slide into her body. He couldn’t say that those sorts of things mattered to him, but he also couldn’t deny the wild grip of possession he felt.
“Fucking caveman,” he muttered, but his body didn’t offer even a twinge of regret. His role as mentor had just gained an unimaginable new intensity, and now that he’d shaken off his nerves, he couldn’t wait.
Half an hour later, as he unlocked his front door, he realized he’d never left a woman alone in his house before. It felt strange, walking in and knowing someone else was there. Someone who might be naked in his shower. Or maybe she’d changed her mind and decided on a long bubble bath. Maybe—
“Hey.”
Jamie spun to see her standing next to the couch, her long legs bare and smooth. His chest tightened at the sight of her in his dogs-playing-poker T-shirt. She wore her glasses with no makeup, and her hair was slightly wavy with damp. In short, she looked perfect. His gaze fell to the tiny hem of black fabric that covered her just past the bottom of the shirt. They looked like very short shorts. He squinted. “Are you wearing my underwear?”
She spread her hand as if to cover them. “I hope that’s okay. I didn’t have anything else.”
“Oh, I’m perfectly fine with that.” He held up the bag and gestured in the direction of the kitchen. “Hungry?” She hurried ahead of him, offering the view he’d been looking for. Just as he’d expected, her small ass looked perfect in the soft cotton, especially when she leaned forward to clear a space on the table. “I got some plates and silverware out. What do you want to drink?”
You. He cleared his throat and handed her the sack. “Here. I’ll get the drinks.”
He filled two glasses with ice water, then opened the bottle of red wine from the pantry. All the while, he could hear her behind him. The paper rustle of the bag. The clink of silverware.
His neck went warm with awareness. Jamie ignored the strange feeling and carried the glasses to the table. “So, tell me where you grew up,” he said as he waited for her to serve herself.
“St. Paul.”
“Sounds cold.”
A smile flitted over her face. “It was all right. I lived in a nice neighborhood, went to a nice school.”
“But?” There was no mistaking the weight in her voice.
“But…my dad was an investment broker. My mom was a real estate agent. They spent their free time investing in businesses. And I was a latchkey kid. A big house, but just me in it most of the time.” She shrugged. “That’s all. No abuse. No movie-of-the-week trouble. It was just quiet. And they expected a lot of me.”
“They’re still alive?”
“Yes, I just don’t see them very often. There’s no point, especially now that Victor is gone. They approved of him, so I was successful in their eyes. Now…back to disappointing. I’m sorry…I know you must miss your parents terribly….”