Chapter 13 Whiplash
whiplash
Olivia traced her finger over the purple silicone in Jaime’s box. She’d been hoping their meetings would end like this again, but for the most part, she tried not to think too much about the entire arrangement—it made it easier to ignore the way Jaime made her feel.
“How do you want to play this?” Olivia asked.
“I’m versatile, but since you already had your way with me earlier, to the point of…”
Olivia grinned as heat rushed through her. She’d live off that memory for a long time.
“Yes, yes. I see we remain smug about it,” Jaime drawled.
“With reason.”
Jaime hummed.
Olivia grasped the silicone and pulled it from the box, the material soft against her fingers. “I’m assuming you want the first turn, then?”
“Yes.” Jaime’s breathing hitched as she worried at her lower lip.
Holding her gaze, Olivia’s pulse quickened at the naked desire written across Jaime’s features.
“Lie down,” Olivia said, her voice rough.
Jaime obeyed, lying down and slowly spreading her legs.
Olivia’s gaze traveled over Jaime—her long legs, the patch of dark hair, her soft stomach, the rise and fall of her chest. The anticipation was exquisite.
She drew closer, settling between Jaime’s legs. Bending down, she traced her tongue through swollen folds.
Jaime moaned, her eyelids falling shut. “That’s not—”
“Patience,” Olivia murmured, pulling back. She dragged the short end of the strap-on through Jaime’s folds before settling it against her entrance. Her gaze drifted up Jaime’s body, drinking in the tension visible with every breath. “May I?”
“Yes,” Jaime pressed out.
Olivia didn’t dare blink. Her heart drummed wildly as she pressed the strap-on inside Jaime, mesmerized by the sight of Jaime’s body swallowing the silicone.
“Are you OK?” Olivia asked.
Jaime tugged at Olivia’s hand and pulled her on top. “Yes. Now kiss me.”
With a soft smile, Olivia claimed Jaime’s lips in a deep kiss.
Jaime’s hands slid down Olivia’s back and her fingers dug into her ass.
“You want me to ride you again?” Olivia murmured against Jaime’s lips.
“Later.” Jaime rolled her over, chuckling when Olivia let out a surprised squeak. “I want you under me.”
Jaime’s voice shot right between Olivia’s legs.
Shifting her hand between them, Jaime seemed to rearrange the strap-on before lifting her hips and aligning the head with Olivia’s slick entrance. “Is this OK?”
Olivia nodded, her hands pulling Jaime closer.
“Say it,” Jaime said.
“Yes, Your Honor. Please fuck me.”
Jaime clenched her jaw and pressed forward, slowly pushing the strap-on inside Olivia.
Olivia bit her lower lip, eyes falling shut at the pressure and fullness of Jaime sinking into her.
When their hips connected, Jaime stilled, panting. She turned her head and kissed Olivia—deeply, with an urgency that made Olivia’s head spin.
“You can move,” Olivia said.
Jaime nodded, holding Olivia’s gaze, her eyes glassy and her pupils swallowing her irises.
Their breaths mingled as Jaime rocked her hips faster and faster.
Olivia felt drunk on Jaime’s nearness—the friction of their movements adding the perfect amount of pressure on her clit, Jaime’s hot, rattling pants in her ear.
Jaime pressed open-mouthed kisses against Olivia’s neck.
Their sweat-slicked bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, and a part of Olivia wished they could stay this close forever, lost in the cocoon of heat, breath, and skin.
Jaime shuddered when Olivia scratched her nails down her back. Lifting her head, she looked at her with an expression Olivia couldn’t place—but it pulled at something inside.
“You’re killing me,” Jaime pressed out.
Olivia’s hands sank into Jaime’s hair and she pulled her closer, kissing her, hard and with a fervor that matched the almost violent thrum of her heart. She had no words, but she felt it, too.
Jaime pulled back, moaning. Her body grew taut, and she dropped her head in the crook of Olivia’s neck as a series of hard shudders ran through her body.
Olivia was close, too—but she just needed…
Jaime didn’t stop. Still trembling, she moved again, slower but determined, the lingering sensitivity twisting her face with pleasure and effort.
The friction built between them, slick and desperate, until Olivia’s breath caught and her body arched, shattering beneath Jaime as a hard climax slammed through her.
They both stilled, panting. Olivia trailed her fingers down Jaime’s back.
“Are you spent?” Olivia asked, her tone carrying a clear challenge. “We could take a nap if you need a break.”
Jaime’s head snapped up, and she glared at Olivia. “Are you calling me old?”
“I’d never.” Olivia smiled. “This encounter seems to have taken a lot out of you.”
“You’re the worst.” Jaime grumbled, but her eyes held amusement. “I was actually thinking…we could switch?”
Olivia’s smile dropped as her heart picked up its pace.
“You like the idea?”
“Yes,” Olivia breathed. “Let’s switch.”
Olivia stared at her phone, blinking rapidly as her stomach continued its freefall. She knew their honeymoon period over the last three months couldn’t last and they’d arrive at a more sober place, their professions and personalities making no other outcome possible.
She sighed.
Since that incredible evening and night at the fair, they’d continued their meetings, now set up via text message with dates, times, and places. Most of their dates ended faster and faster inside various hotel rooms.
At this point, Olivia must have stayed in every four-star hotel in downtown Atlanta and surrounding areas. She’d once offered going back to her place, but Jaime had already booked a hotel for that particular day, and after, Olivia never brought it up again.
She still didn’t know where Jaime lived, aside from it being close to neverending pages.
They talked, too. It wasn’t just sex—though it was a lot of sex—but unease sometimes gnawed at the corner of her consciousness.
She missed their outings to just attend an event or hang out in a café or bookstore. Then again, she knew who she was dealing with, and afraid to rock the boat, Olivia remained silent.
However, after the most recent email from her boss, transferring Lydia Cain’s case to her, she’d need to talk as Jaime, who was assigned to be the judge in the case.
Making a snap decision, Olivia texted Jaime, asking her to meet and sending her the date and address of a hotel.
Jaime replied immediately with a thumbs-up emoji. God, she dreaded this discussion, but it had to happen. She had three days to prepare what she’d say.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Olivia checked in early, preferring to settle in the room instead of pacing in her house, waiting for the time to leave.
When Jaime knocked a while later, Olivia released a trembling sigh and opened the door, allowing Jaime to pull her close and kiss her.
“What made you choose this hotel?”
Olivia shrugged. “I wanted something…new.” Free from more pleasant memories.
“Fair enough.” Jaime placed a lingering kiss against Olivia’s temple. “Can I interest you in taking a shower with me?”
Olivia closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. She inhaled deeply, finding solace in Jaime’s signature scent before pulling back. “I need to talk to you.”
Jaime stepped back. “About?”
“It’s not bad, well, it doesn’t have to be.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
Olivia’s gaze found the floor.
“Did you find someone else and need to end things?”
“What?” Olivia’s head snapped up. “No! I just… I got an email earlier this week from my boss. She wants me to take over the Cain case.”
“Lydia Cain?” Jaime blinked. “She’s on my docket.”
“Yes. That’s the problem.”
“I see.”
“So, I’m thinking, since it hasn’t started, and I’ve not looked at the paperwork or anything, we could just… There’s no conflict of interest.”
“Not yet.”
“Right. That’s why I think we should…maybe take a break?”
“Why?”
“Conflict of interest?” Olivia frowned.
Jaime waved her off. “No, I got that. Why bother with a break? Perhaps it’s a sign that our…association has run its course.”
“What?” Olivia’s stomach turned. “Are you serious?”
“We knew it would happen one day, and we were never serious. Just a bit of fun to pass the time.”
Olivia clenched her fists—her nails digging half-moon imprints into her palms. A million thoughts bombarded her, most in protest, some full of anger and insults, while a few urged her to storm out and cry.
None of the words made it to her vocal cords, though, so she just stood there, staring at Jaime, who seemed to tower in the middle of the room, still as a statue.
“So that’s it then?”
Jaime shrugged, a grimace flitting across her face. She ducked her head. “What other option is there?”
“A pause, like I suggested.”
“We’d just be deluding ourselves. This is easier.”
“For whom?”
Jaime’s head jerked up, and she found Olivia’s gaze. “For you,” she whispered. “This can never… I’m not what you need.”
Olivia inhaled sharply, then nodded, more to herself than anything. If she was honest with herself, her anxious fretting before the meeting showed she’d seen Jaime’s reaction coming on some level. Sadly, it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. She straightened. “I think you should leave.”
Jaime flinched. “As you wish.” She hesitated for a split second before pivoting and leaving, closing the door behind her with a low thud.
Olivia gritted her teeth, clutching the remote control at the foot end of the bed and hurling it against the door.
“As I wish? You clueless asshole,” she muttered, covering her face with her hands as she leaned forward. She’d not cry.
Olivia had cried, though she couldn’t quite tell if they were angry or sad tears, likely a miserable conglomeration that still clung to her like tar, even weeks after their acrimonious parting.
She sniffed, pulling Lily, her newest and, well, only niece, closer to her chest and smelling her tuft of curly black hair. Olivia hummed. Baby scent was calming.
Her boss had been quite unhappy when Olivia had informed her that she couldn’t take on the Cain case.
Her line of, “I have a personal history with Judge Lachlan, and I believe it’s in the best interest of everyone if I were to step away from the case,” had almost made Maria’s eyebrows fly off her forehead.
Considering her boss’s approach to work, perhaps she couldn’t imagine ever finding herself in such a position.
Olivia had struggled a little with what to do, both options had seemed equally terrible at first glance, but safeguarding her, well, both their professional reputations took precedent.
Not to mention, she knew Jaime enough, and sitting in court day in and out facing the cool detachment of Judge Lachlan seemed utterly unbearable.
On the evening of the first day in court, Jaime had sent a text, asking: “Are you sick?” to which Olivia had replied, “No,” and that had been it.
She hadn’t heard another word from Jaime in the following two weeks, nor had she contacted her either.
Olivia had little pride in personal relationships—too often it wrecked what you wanted to keep—but she had enough not to run after someone who made it clear they weren’t interested.
Olivia would beg no one to be in her life—either they wanted to or not. She’d survive either way.
Still, it stung. Memories of their times together would flood her mind at the most inopportune moments.
Most of these recollections weren’t even sexual, no, she thought of the calm moments in-between, like the aftermath of one of their hotel encounters when they lay breathless in bed after she’d called her ‘Jay,’ and Jaime had grumbled, saying she didn’t like to be called that.
“What’s wrong with Jay?” Olivia asked, chuckling at Jaime’s grimace.
“Nothing. It’s just not my name.”
“You never had a nickname? Ever? Nothing your family ever called you?”
Jaime’s lips thinned. “No, I’m an only child. Only grandchild, too. There were just my mom, my grandma, and I. Well, until I was seventeen, when my grandma died.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine. There have been moments when I’d wished my family was smaller, fewer demands, none of the drama and conflict, but I don’t know. That seems…lonely.”
Jaime shrugged. “I enjoy being alone.”
“Yes, well, that’s not the same thing as being lonely, is it?”
Jaime didn’t reply, only stared at her with this unfathomable gaze she sometimes got that always made Olivia twitch, suppressing the urge to fidget.
“Were you close to your grandmother?”
Jaime nodded, her expression cagey. “She sometimes called me James.”
Olivia said nothing, trying to hide her rising anticipation. Jaime shared little about herself—in fact, Olivia still didn’t know where Jaime lived—a sore spot she did her best to ignore.
Jaime sighed. “At first, I thought she did so because she’d have preferred for me to be a boy.
She was quite old-school, conservative in a lot of ways.
Eventually, I asked her about it. Why she’d sometimes call me James.
” A rueful smile spread over Jaime’s full lips.
“She said Jaime is a soft sound, almost playful, whereas James sounded serious, and when she called me James, she needed my full attention.”
Olivia’s eyes widened.
“The funny thing, she always had it. The name, her calling me James, it had exactly the effect she wanted.”
“Never fall for emotionally unavailable people, little one.” Olivia kissed Lily’s head, sighing. She’d never had a broken heart, lived to the age of thirty-eight without it.
Then came the woman who’d first turned her head at an alumni dinner five years ago—who’d often aggravated her professionally—and somehow managed, unbeknownst to Olivia, to crush this fragile collection of veins and tissues into a pulp.
Maybe if she’d been more open to romance before, she’d know how to handle the gaping hole in her chest or stop her mind from constantly running in circles around Jaime. Even her family had noticed that something was off, though Olivia refused to talk about it.
How would she even explain what happened? They never had anything, so what had she lost?
The potential of…what exactly?
Delusions. She was feeding delusions, and if she hoped to get over Jaime anytime soon, she needed to stop. Enough damage had already fallen at her feet—at least she’d stopped it from bleeding into her professional life.