Sure, Olivia was exciting, but it was just sex. From the time he’d lost his virginity at sixteen, he had never had a problem getting women to drop their panties—the ones who wore them, anyway. With one major exception, he’d always had casual flings. He was good at them. They were so much easier. And he’d created some guiding principles to keep him out of trouble.
Rule #1: No staying for breakfast. Ever. Breakfast was a game changer. It was like a daytime date that gave women the impression things were getting serious. Then they started getting ideas about the future and relationships, which inevitably screwed up the sex.
Rule #2: Don’t plan anything more than three days in advance. The three day rule kept things casual. He never saw the same woman more than once a week and never got roped into weddings or other volatile events that had the potential to blow up like an emotional minefield.
Rule #3: No commitments. If she wants to have “the talk”, it’s time to get the hell out.
The rules were simple. They ensured things never got too serious and no one got hurt.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was only ten, so he had plenty of time for a trip to the hotel gym before meeting his realtor. The hotel was convenient, but it wasn’t a great long-term set up. He needed to find an apartment, and experience had taught him that, with his discerning taste and busy work schedule, it could take some time.
That meant he needed to stop thinking about Olivia and start thinking about more practical things, like finding a place to live. If only he could get the sound of her screaming his name out of his head.
…
Olivia’s phone vibrated uncontrollably, sliding across the kitchen counter and threatening to take a dive to the slate floor below if she didn’t answer it, right now. She seriously considered tossing it in the utensil drawer, but knew that wouldn’t put an end to Chloe’s endless calls.
There was only one way to do that, and it meant answering the phone.
“Hey.” She did her best to sound casual, despite the fact she’d been dreading this call. And the six that had come before it.
Olivia knew she couldn’t hide forever, but she’d given it her best shot. Problem was, Chloe tended to be relentless when she wanted something, and the odds were good she was going crazy trying to figure out if Olivia had actually gone through with the dare.
“She lives!” Chloe sounded put out by the need to make a seventh phone attempt. Hard to blame her. “I was seriously starting to wonder. I almost alerted the police, you know.”
“You almost alerted the police?” She bit back a laugh. “Because the text message I sent didn’t put your overactive imagination at ease?”
“I’m fine. Call you later.” Chloe’s words dripped with sarcasm. “Not so much. For all I knew the guy had you bound and gagged with one of those strappy little ball things!”
“A ball gag?” Olivia offered and burst out laughing. It was unlikely Chloe would have called the police. On the other hand, she did sound pretty ticked off that Olivia hadn’t answered her phone all day. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she apologized, feeling a twinge of guilt. “I had some errands to run, but I should have called sooner.”
“Damn straight!” Chloe agreed, perking up. “Now you can make it up to me by sharing all the juicy details from last night. And don’t even think about leaving anything out.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
Walking to the fish bowl on the kitchen counter, she dropped some flakes in for Rufus. Her busy schedule didn’t allow for a four-legged pet, but she didn’t mind. Rufus, the colorful betta fish who shared her apartment, was the perfect roommate. They had such clear relationship parameters. He didn’t talk back, and he wasn’t too needy. And unlike Chloe, he didn’t require intimate details of her sex life.
“Well?” Chloe prompted. “Quit stalling, Liv. Did you do the deed or what?”
“Yes,” she admitted, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at the admission. God, was she really blushing like a virgin? How ridiculous. She was twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud. She could have guilt-free sex with whomever she wanted, couldn’t she?
“Eeee!” Chloe squealed, piercing her eardrums. “I knew it! I knew it!”
Olivia held the phone at arm’s length, waiting for Chloe to get it out of her system. She loved Chloe like a sister, but at times like this, she was thankful for her status as an only child. If twenty-five year old Chloe behaved this way, she could only imagine what a handful sixteen year old Chloe must’ve been.
“Done now?” she asked, cautiously bringing the phone back to her ear.
“Depends,” Chloe said, sounding like a bipolar chipmunk, all traces of her sullen attitude completely erased. “Are you going to give me the scoop or not?”
“What do you want me to say? That we went back to his hotel and had dirty, kinky sex all night long?”
“Umm, yeah.” Chloe sighed. “Man, he was hot. I bet it was amazing. Why can’t I meet a guy like that?”
“You meet guys like Cole all the time. The one night—”