Victoria Dahl - Bad Boys Do

“You won’t be working with my family. My family doesn’t know anything about this.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, reaching for her glass, grateful he’d refilled it.

Jamie leaned back and held his own glass loosely between his fingers, turning it as he stared down at the tilting liquid. “My brother doesn’t have a lot of confidence in me. Hell, nobody does. I guess I’ve brought that on myself. Let’s just say there’ve been some instances of questionable judgement.”

“With the business?”

“No, not exactly. Years ago, I sowed my oats fairly widely. And once you’ve cast yourself in the role of black sheep, it’s hard to shake it off.”

“Were there drugs involved? Anything illegal?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just that … my brother and I are nothing alike. He’s a paragon of responsibility. I could never compete with that, so I didn’t bother trying.” He shrugged. “It’s complicated. But in the end, it comes down to this. We’re equal partners in the brewery, so whatever I propose, I’ll have to convince both my sister and my brother that it’s a good idea. So I need help. All the help I can get.”

“Well, of course I’d be happy to help. But I don’t need you to—”

“No, that’s not true. You need help, too. And I happen to be a lot of good at fun. I cut my teeth on it.”

Her face was so hot it prickled as if she’d just fallen into a field of stinging nettle. “But sex? I can’t just—”

“I didn’t say anything about sex.”

Oh, Jesus. She pressed a cool hand to her cheek. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean fun. Staying up later than ten, for instance.”

“I like to—”

“Sleeping late. Getting drunk under the stars. Skinny-dipping. Going to a strip club—”

“A strip club?” she yelped.

He winked. “And maybe we could work in a little can’t-wait-for-it, gotta-have-it sex against the bathroom wall while we’re at it. Assuming you’d consider that fun.”

“I think …” Her face still burned. Her throat turned on itself until she couldn’t believe she could still draw breath. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how people went about things, not even older divorcées and younger men. Maybe she should be insulted that he wanted her to bargain for time in his bed. Or against his wall.

On the other hand, it made things easier, didn’t it? No worries that it was something special. Something deep. They were just … scratching each other’s backs. Exchanging services.

Now that she thought about it, maybe this was how it was done. Maybe she was a sugar mama, albeit a rather poor one.

Isn’t that how older men did it? Men like Victor offered guidance, stability, a wise hand along the way. Younger women offered tight bodies and simple needs.

“Well?” Jamie prompted, setting his glass on the table and sitting up straight. He looked right into her eyes, not the least bit embarrassed. How did he do that?

Olivia forced herself to sit straight, too. She’d wanted him anyway, hadn’t she? “All right,” she said, surprised at the conviction in her own voice. “You’ve got a deal. But I want my first lesson today.”

“I DIDN’T BRING a swimsuit,” she said, confused despite her earlier bold declaration.

Jamie tried to look serious, shaking his head as he slipped the last of the dishes into the sink. “Haven’t you listened to anything I said?”

He could almost see her reviewing his list of fun. In fact, her lips moved as she repeated it to herself. Her eyes widened. “But today … I thought we’d …”

“What?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know what she meant.

She stammered, her face pinkening again.

“Take it slow?” he prompted, letting her off the hook. But he knew exactly what she’d meant. She thought they’d just have sex, and apparently she welcomed it. Jamie’s blood pumped faster, filling his veins until his body felt tight.

She leapt on his words and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Take it slow.”

“But I’m trying to teach you how to jump in feetfirst. Starting with the hot tub.”

Her eyes slid toward the back door as she piled silverware in the sink. “But … people will see us.”

“Nope. The trellis keeps it private.”

“But … the walk …”

“I have towels, Olivia. Big, fluffy ones.”

She swallowed and stared hard at the bright rectangle of sunlight spilling onto the kitchen floor. “All right,” she said, looking terrified.

“Hey.” He walked over and nudged her chin up. “I’m teasing. Maybe we could go for staying up late as a first step.”

She met his gaze, and there was that vulnerability again. Jamie felt his heart turn. But then her jaw hardened. “No. You’re right. I’m not the expert here, am I? I should trust you.”

Her skin felt like silk when he traced the line of her chin. “It’s just a hot tub,” he said, because he’d be damned if he’d make her feel she was agreeing to anything else at this point. He wasn’t going to shame her into sex. “Just a swim. That’s all.”

“Right,” she said. “Just a hot tub.”

“I’ll leave a towel in the bedroom for you.”

He walked away casually, trying not to let her know how much he was anticipating this. If she thought he lounged naked in his hot tub with a different girl every Sunday, then so be it. He stuffed a couple of condoms into his pocket, slung a towel around his neck and laid one on the bed for Olivia. Then he walked right past her, grabbing the champagne glasses as he passed.

When she turned on the water at the sink, he paused. “Just to be clear, I’ll get the dishes later.”

“Oh, sure,” she said. The water cut off. He chuckled as he stepped outside and headed for the tub. He had set the timer to keep the water warm on the weekends, so it was already comfortably toasty. Jamie turned on the jets, dropped his clothes on the bench and stepped in.

It would take her a little while. He knew that. He could picture her perfectly, standing in the kitchen, her fingers wound together, jaw set tight as steel. She might be careful and serious, but she was strong as hell, and he had no doubt she’d work up to it.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes, picturing her walking slowly down his hallway, her heels clicking against the wood. When she reached his bedroom, she’d stare hard at the towel. Then at his bed. Her hands would hesitate over the knot that kept that wrap dress on. God, he’d give anything to be the one to untie it. To slide the sash free and watch that bright yellow fabric open. To see that first glimpse of skin. What was she wearing under there? Something sweet and modest? Something delicate and silky?

Jamie’s cock was aching by the time he opened his eyes and found her standing before him. He blinked in surprise. In his mind, she’d still been nervously undressing.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes sweeping down the wide white towel she clutched to her body.

Jesus Christ, she was naked under there. No doubt about it. Her eyes were wide and her knuckles glowed as pale as the cotton she clutched, but she stood straight and met his gaze.

“You’re sure no one can see in?” she asked.

“I’m sure. Too many shadows.”

“Could you …?”

Jamie closed his eyes again, but his ears strained to make up for that chivalry, as if he could possibly hear a towel being unwound over the sound of the rolling jets. He counted to ten, then twenty, sure that there’d be some global shift once she was naked in the water with him. At the very least, she’d splash a little.

“Can we even count it as skinny-dipping if you keep your eyes closed the whole time?”