Page 106 of Waking Olivia

“I have to,” I groan, climbing out of the bed and returning to the chair beside it, “or that doctor’s going to walk in on something she can’t unsee.”

In fact, that doctor’s still going to get an eyeful unless I get a cold shower or change of conversationfast.

“You sure?” she asks, with a smile that goes straight to my dick when the last thing it needs is more encouragement. “I’m not wearinganythingunder this hospital gown, Will. It’d be so easy…”

I groan aloud.

This girl is going to be the end of me. But I guess I’ve known that since the day we met.

76

Olivia

It’s lateby the time I’m finally released from the hospital. Will finds us a hotel near the airport that’s reasonable by LA standards and gets us checked in.

“I need a shower,” I exhale, kicking off my shoes the moment we’re in the room. “Although I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to wash off the seven hours I spent in that strip club.”

“I probably don’t want to know exactly what happened that led you to punch someone, do I?” he asks with a small wince.

“Probably not,” I reply, peeling off the skirt. He tries not to watch, but it’s like he can’t help himself. “You’re allowed to look now, you know.”

He closes his eyes tightly. “I think it’s best if I don’t.”

“Why?”

“Just go shower, Liv,” he sighs, not opening his eyes. “You need some rest.”

“Rest?So you’re saying that you’re no longer my coach and we’re alone in a hotel room and you want me to get somerest?”

“Olivia, in the last few hours you were assaulted and nearly died. Youjustgot out of the hospital. So yeah, under those circumstances, I want you to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not. We have lots of time to do this the right way.”

“Oh my God,” I groan. “You’re not going to do, like, candles and rose petals and shit, right? While you recite poetry, maybe play some slow jams on your guitar?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s some middle ground between being sensitive ponytail guy and the guy who fucks a girl as she’s exiting the hospital.”

“You go first then. I’m going to call Erin.”

Which I don’t do, of course.

I hear the water start, the slide of the shower door, and give him two minutes before I strip off the rest of my clothes and walk into the bathroom, pausing for a moment to take him in —perfect arms, tight ass, water streaming off that delectable v where his waist meets his hips.

“Olivia,” he sighs, opening his eyes to find me ogling him. “What are you doing?”

I step into the shower. “Don’t mind me.” I lather the soap in my hands. “I’m just here to get clean.” My hands slide over my skin, down to my thighs and between my legs.

“Liv,” he groans, half-plea and half-warning. To my delight, I notice that he’s already hard and I haven’t laid a finger on him.

“Oh, how rude of me.” I wrap my slippery hands around him. “I should clean you first.”

“You just got out of the hospital,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Maybe you’d feel better about it if I was sitting,” I say as I drop to my knees, washing away the soap before I take him in my mouth.

“Fuck,” he gasps, and in that single word I hear him cave. “Stop,” he tells me, but it’s half-hearted and already his fingers are pressing into my scalp, running through my hair. When I glance up, I find him watching me, eyes at half-mast and feverish. I think I could come from his reaction alone: his low groan, the way he strains not to push hard into my mouth, his hips still jutting forward softly despite his best efforts.

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