by Pamela Ann
I was stronger than this. I was braver than this petty excuse of a mopping, wallowing woman who couldn’t speak his name out loud because it hurt too much to even utter his name.
A tough woman I sure was, wasn’t I?
Chapter 4
Liv
“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Mom asked the second I answered her call. A week had passed since I had gotten back from LA, and I was surviving… Barely, but surviving nonetheless.
“Doing school stuff, same old things,” I responded, ignoring the idea to ask any news of Greyson. “I’m actually thinking of getting a part-time job, maybe at a restaurant or the library.”
“That’s fantastic, Liv. I’m so glad that, after all of this, you’re doing okay.” She sounded hopeful that I wasn’t at all depressed. “Well, I called to check on you, of course, and well… I also wanted to ask if you wanted to come for Christmas?”
“Mom—”
“Listen, I know you probably don’t want to come back here, and I understand you more than you think, but this—” She paused, sighing loudly on the phone. “I don’t want this to be the first Christmas I don’t get to spend with my only child. I love Brett, I do, but I need you in my life, too. Having you so far away is difficult as it is, and when you came back out of the blue and left without saying goodbye… I just miss you, that’s all.”
“Aww, Mom…” I was speechless. Of course we hadn’t spent Christmas apart, yet this might be the very first time that I would. I was feeling a great dose of guilt, but going home would put me in a very terrible place. I wasn’t ready for that.
“You know I can’t face them yet.” The thought of Christmas dinner, sitting across Grey and Edith, would surely guarantee I would be buried six-feet under. “I just can’t, Mom, but if you want, I’m sure Dad won’t mind having you come and join us.”
“Brett already arranged something with Edith’s parents. I’m not sure if I can get out of it, but I’ll try anyway. I miss you, baby. I’ll call you again sometime tomorrow.”
Her somber tone brought melancholy. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
“I love you, Olivia. Be strong, my beautiful girl. The world is your oyster, so don’t choose to be a clam. Go out there and enjoy being young. You have Liam that adores you, and I’m sure there are other men who are willing to give you all the love and affection you deserve. You’re still a beautiful bud, blossom and embrace the sunshine, and never choose to whither and die. Go out tonight and have a drink for me, can you promise me that?”
She was right. Her sentiments brought a genuine smile to my face. “Maybe, when Saturday rolls around, I just might. Thank you…” I paused, sounding a little breathy, “for what you said about blossoming and embracing the sunshine. I think you might be right.”
“I’m your mother, of course I’m right,” she delivered succinctly.
I snorted. “Yeah—okay. Well, I gotta go. Speak to you soon.” Hanging up the call, I realized that the smile hadn’t left my face.
With distance, I could at least successfully pretend I was fine and not so broken inside. Put me in the same city with Edith and Grey, though, and I hardly doubt I wouldn’t break down.
Living on a different continent, thousands of miles away from him and Edith, was the best thing for me, just not for my mom. Hopefully, if she could convince Brett, I wouldn’t have to suffer a holiday without her. My mom and dad are on great terms, so I wouldn’t think my dad would mind having her around.
The first week back here was rough—no, it was wretchedly brutal. It was worse during nighttime, too. It was pitiful, but I somehow ended up calling Liam, just like how I had when I’d lived in LA. Being over the phone, I could tell him my deepest fears, yet circle around how I truly felt when it came to Greyson. At one point, he even asked me to describe it, that maybe by acknowledging them, it would be easier for me to deal with it. It was a great attempt, however it wasn’t good enough. Maybe one day, when it was less hurtful to speak about what had happened, I might explain it to him. For now, I was purely heartbroken, irrevocably so.
Dad worked tonight, so I was all alone, dining with my meal. After my light dinner, I tried to watch TV shows for an hour, yet nothing seemed to catch my attention. The thought of taking my school work out and attempting to read ahead came to mind, but the idea of taking a long bath won out.
Usually, I was simple when it came to my bathing rituals. Tonight, though, I decided to go all out. I situated scented, soy pillar candles about the bathroom while I had some John Legend and Robin Thicke crooning in the background on a low volume. Adding rose scented oils, three cups of milk and five tablespoonful of honey, I was set to go and enjoy some hot water therapy.
Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the tub pillow as I let the beat of the music take me away, drifting my mind somewhere… until I thought about Greyson…
“Liv?”
“Mmm?” I shifted my head towards him. We were stargazing right outside his pool house in a hammock with his arm as my pillow while his free hand roamed around my body.
“Star-crossed lovers,” he murmured sweetly in my ear.
I didn’t even think, blurting out my reply, “Romeo and Juliet.”
“Lancelot and Guinevere,” he immediately interjected as soon as I finished, adding a side of arrogance, “My choice is so much better.”
“That’s pure bull! Romeo and Juliet are like the ultimate star-crossed lovers. Have you seen the movie at all? Have you seen the passion evoked alone from the moment they saw each other? Their first kiss? Any of that?” I shrugged, feeling pity for him. “I’d do anything for a man that would make me feel half as much as Romeo could for his Juliet. Guinevere and Lancelot… well, she’s married for one—that alone would cause so much heartache, you know—so it being star-crossed lovers is kind of a given since she’s married to King Arthur. It’s adultery, but naming it star-crossed lovers sounds more appealing… but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s cheating.”
Greyson grew silent next to me, breathing into my neck.
“Besides, if those two were single when they first met, I hardly doubt they could’ve ignited the same passion. The forbidden is always so enticing. That’s just human nature. We want what we can’t have, much more so when the woman you lust after is the king’s wife. Of course, the first time they kiss and have sex would be explosive, but as I stated before, it’s adultery nonetheless.”
“So if you were Guinevere, you’d avoid the temptation?” he questioned, back to his slow, seductive torture of his tongue on my neck.
I gave his question some thought. Passion. That’s the common theme we were discussing. “I don’t know… I’ve never been in her situation, so it’s hard to say until you’re living it. Until you’re conflicted with such emotions… it’s hard to say.”
“You’d never cheat, right? Even if you’re the other woman and this married guy makes you wild and makes you crave his touch? You’d throw it all away because it’s wrong and inappropriate?”
Well. Fuck. I wouldn’t know. Shifting on my side, I rested my chin on his chest, gazing up at him. “Would you do it?”
“If I’m crazy about the woman, if I can’t stand seeing her and not being able to even kiss or touch her…” he whispered. “In a heartbeat, Olivia. I’d make her mine even for minutes… seconds. I’d risk it all just to be with her.”
“Huh.” Well, wow. That said quite a ton about him.
With the use of his strong hands, he placed me atop his toned body with my stomach pressed against his hardness. His eyes lingered on my face, eyeing me with a look of wonderment and lust before his left thumb reached out and caressed the bottom of my lip. “How do you find things with me, Liv?”
My body revved up with just a touch, curling in my body as I felt the immediate ooze of wetness that trickled on my slit. One touch—one simple touch and I was his.
“What do you mean?” I asked, distracted.
Eyes twinkling as if he knew what he was doing to
me, he said, “Just everything, you know? How I treat you. Am I too annoying sometimes? Do I give you enough or too little attention? Room for improvements…? Anything, really. Like… how do you like sex with me?”
Oh, Jesus. Really? Was he fishing for compliments? Typical. “Uh… you’re not really asking all those questions just to get to the last one, are you?”
He smirked before licking his lips. “Maybe a little, but if you have any complaints, I’m all ears.”
“Why are you asking anyway? Isn’t that supposed to be a no-go topic for men?” Sigh. He was adorable… wait—was that a blush creeping into his cheeks? I sighed again at the same time my heart constricted, bombarded with overwhelming emotions as I gazed at him.
Greyson, he completely rocked my world.
He somehow seemed uncomfortable, yet he still pursued the subject. “Usually, but I want to make you happy, that’s why I’m asking.”
This man… he had conquered so many beds, conquered so many hearts, and here he was, asking if he was good enough. Again, my heart constricted, palpitating as our eyes connected. I felt dizzy from the waves of burning lust I had for him. Tiger-eyes glowed before me, making my heart rate gallop like no other.
“You’re sex is amazing, Grey.”
“You sure? I make you come enough?” His hips started to shift, gradually rubbing his shorts that didn’t hinder his hard dick against my stomach.
Tongue. Fingers. His cock… Yes. Yes and yes. “Yeah… you know you do. I’m sure it’s hard to pretend when I’m pink and sweaty from moaning and screaming, but then again, you have to consider the bare fact that you’re the only guy I’ve done it with, so I won’t know.”
“Minx. You’re my hot, little, sexy minx,” he groaned, meeting my lips with a harsh kiss. “And I love the fact that no man’s touched you the way I have. I’m the only one who knows the kind of paradise you give me each time I bottom out inside your tight pussy. The way your walls grip me when you’re about to come, or how incredible it feels when your sweet cunt clenches when you’re about to come all over my dick. The way you sound when I fuck you harder. In that tiny moment, all I feel is you. All I see is you, screaming and moaning for me.” He suddenly looked serious, as if every word he’d said came from the heart. “I live for those moments. You rock my world, babe.”
My sentiments exactly…
“Oh, Grey. I miss you,” I whispered into the air, letting my tears stream down my face as I tortured myself with more memories of him. Of us.
I was about to start sobbing out loud when my phone shrilled ever so loudly. It broke my wallow-and-cry-me-a-river silent time for Greyson Edwards.
Pressing on my phone to activate the speaker option, I took the call. “Hello?”
“Did you run a marathon? Why do you sound all breathy, I wonder?” Liam’s voice filtered through the bathroom.
Mind you, his sexy accent sounded really amazing with the help of speakers. It was a good thing, I supposed. It sure made me stop crying out for Greyson.
“Nothing… just taking a hot bath. What are you up to?”
“Nothing unusual, thinking about you. What else?” He laughed, as if he was embarrassed to admit to the fact.
God, he was such a charmer and a wonderful guy all around. If only…
“You should start dating again,” I lightly suggested, hoping he’d bite the bait this time. Ever since I had come back from LA, he had stop partying. Instead, he’d resort to waiting for my calls and catering to my own sad party of one depression.
“And why must I do that, Olivia?” he questioned with seriousness. “Are you scared that I’m going to woo you back to me and might be successful at it?”
Could he? “No one woos anymore, Liam. Besides, I suggested it because I thought it’s a little pathetic to listen to an ex-girlfriend bitch about her ex-boyfriend. You deserve more than this. You’re worth more than this.”
“How often do I have to remind you that no one else does it for me except you, Liv,” he said succinctly. “Suggest all you like, I’m not going anywhere. He’s in Los Angeles and you’re in Sydney. And in this country, YOU. ARE. MINE. And I won’t stop until you give it all up to me. Because you will, and we both know it,” Liam vowed harshly, possessively, making me quiver and tingle inside. “I promise you, Olivia, you will forget him. Your heart will not know of him. Your sweet pussy will forget he ever existed. I can guarantee you that.”
Confident men sure were sexy. “Well, then, Mr. Possessive Man, maybe you’re all bark and no bite.” Saucy, but what the hell; I only got to live once.
The deep-bellied laugh echoed everywhere. “I’m coming for you, just you wait, beautiful.”
Chapter 5
Liv
“Hey gotta a minute?” Someone called behind me before I walked out of the classroom door.
Twirling around, I was surprised to find one of the girls Liam had introduced me to at the beginning of the semester. We had been in the same class since, but we’d never really spoken to each other until today.
Wondering what she might need from me, I made a tiny smile, looking somewhat interested. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Olivia, right?” Big smiles, perky boobs and the bluest blue eyes I had ever come across blinked at me with enthusiasm.
She remembered my name. Funny, ‘cause I could barely remember hers. Chessie? Jess…? No. Chaz…? “Yeah, Jazz?” When it came to names, I had selective memory. Faces I could recall, but never names.
“The one and only.” She immediately chirped up when I hit the jackpot. “Listen, we’re throwing a party at Bondi later. You should come. I could tell Liam to come get you.”
Liam. The party animal. Ha. Who knew? “Uh, okay. That would be great,” I lamely replied, not sure if I should even consider going out on a Friday night. Then again, maybe I should start what my mother had preached before. I should go out there and enjoy life. I was only young once.
After a few minutes, we parted ways, leaving with each other’s digits, promising to meet there tonight.
It should be fun, I thought as I scrolled to my photo album, tapping the picture that kept pushing me further away from him.
The picture depicted him beautifully. It caught the perfect angle of his face, bearing his roguish, good looks and fantastic features. Not to mention, the sheet that didn’t hinder the semi-awakened state of his dick that seemed to hold its promise, stunning in every sense of the word. The picture engaged to captivate the audience, just as Edith had wanted it.
She didn’t need to say any words, signing off with only her tiny, victorious message with her new last name, leaving me without doubts as to what Greyson had been up to. Obviously he was asleep after fucking her bits. It must’ve been quite a session because, from experience, Grey would never pass out like that until he had sex with me a few times. The times where everything was busy and we never got the chance to steal a few hours together, and when we did, he’d never get off me until my legs were shaky. Until my throat was dry from screaming. Until my lips were red and swollen from his kisses. Until I could no longer breathe other than for him… That was my Grey.
Well, he was officially Edith’s now.
Husband and wife. Thinking about it made me choke on my saliva as I tried to will myself not to cry on campus.
Like the old adage, dust yourself off and try again, I repeated silently when I took a hasty turn and ended up flat on my back against a wall, breathing heavily while my eyes brimmed with tears.
I had to SET. HIM. FREE.
Yet here I was, sitting in my own prison, chanting the encouragement that it was best I moved on because he had—he did. Way past that; he was married for crying out loud.
Married.
Married…
Married!
Why must I drown myself in this crock of bull when he was possibly loving Edith all day and night, catering to his wife’s wishes? And why should I mourn the loss of him when clearly he was with her the entire time I had been gone; maybe e
ven before. Who fucking knew anymore? When it came to Greyson, his attachment to Edith ran deeper than I’d once imagined.
I would be the dumbest idiot known to the human race if I kept yearning for him.
Preparing to go home, I told myself that my life would be so much easier to deal with if I just stopped thinking about them. I just couldn’t help it, though, because, as much as I wanted to be free, my heart always remembered him. It never failed to tell me that I belonged to him.
Yet here I was, back to square one, learning how to fight off the thoughts of him. Fighting away the love I had for him that I had held on to for years. And just like before, I had to remember how to squash and bury it within, like my emotions could be locked in an icebox, and I would turn into the bitchy, mean-spirited woman that I once had been.
My mind wandered off as I heard part of Pablo Neruda’s poem, If You Forget Me, in my mind…
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off
to seek another land.
So seek I shall…
In Sydney, I certainly shall.
Chapter 6
Liv
Opening the door, I made a small, shy smile. “Hey, you’re early.”
