“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.”