“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.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THERE 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.