by B. N. Toler
Chewing my lip as I stared at my reflection, I wondered how to go about it—how could I make Liam feel comfortable.
I knew Liam was worried about me seeing Max whenever I looked at him, but I had an idea of what to do about that. I’d found the blindfold in Max’s nightstand drawer when I was—not proud to admit it—snooping days before. I’d also found the large box of condoms in his bathroom closet, which made me cringe, but tonight they would come in handy. I didn’t let myself think about how ironic it was that I was taking condoms from my ex to use with the man inhabiting his body. It was a little too much to get into. Feeling I had a plan, at least for the most part, I raised my chin and stared into my own eyes.
“You can do this,” I told myself.
After I stripped down, I brushed my tangled hair caused by a day of riding on the back of the motorcycle, touched up my makeup and cleaned up.
Staring at myself in the mirror one last time, I inhaled a deep breath. “Here we go,” I told my reflection.
Grabbing the blindfold and a few condoms, I tiptoed by Pim before peeking out the bedroom door, The light leaking out from a crack in the guest bathroom cued me that Liam had climbed in the shower. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I knew I wanted Liam to be as naked as me when he found me. The thought made me feel like we would be on equal footing even though he’d be able to see and I wouldn’t. So, moving stealthily, I snuck into the guest bathroom and stole his clothes and towel.
Then . . . bare and vulnerable, I waited blindly for him to find me.
In the guest bathroom, I turned the water as hot as I could bear and stayed in there until my skin was bright red and the water began to turn cold. By the time I stepped out it had probably been over half an hour and the tension I’d been feeling had begun to wash away. My jaw, though somewhat swollen, was throbbing a little less, courtesy of the whiskey.
Looking around the bathroom, I twisted my mouth. Where was the towel I’d brought in? And my clothes. Where the hell were my clothes?
Soaking wet, I contemplated what to do. I could use the bath mat, but that wouldn’t even wrap around me, it was so small. I had nothing to put on. Growing up, my grandmother hated when we let water drip on the floor after a shower. It was a pet peeve of hers and one that had stuck with me, but I didn’t have a choice. I had no towel. Dripping across the floor, I cracked the bathroom door open and stuck my head out.
All the lights were off. “Damn,” I muttered to myself. Waverly must’ve gone to bed while I took the world’s longest shower. Maybe I could sneak into the bedroom without waking her or Pim and steal some clothes from the closet.
Keeping my steps light, I moved through the dark hallway into the living room where the city lights cast a faint illumination across the room. I was just about to pick up a throw pillow from the couch to cover myself when I heard, “Liam?”
My head snapped to the sound of her voice as I yanked the pillow up to cover my privates. It took me a moment to absorb what I was seeing.
Waverly.
Naked.
Naked and blindfolded.
She stood in front of the windows, facing me, a black silk night mask covering her eyes. The lighting from outside provided the perfect backdrop, silhouetting every exquisite curve of her body.
My heart pumped hard in my chest, my mouth dry as I stared at her, letting my eyes rove over every inch of her.
“Liam?” she called my name again on bated breath.
“Yes,” I replied, my voice husky.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Her tongue darted out across her lips. My heart beat erratically as I drank her in. I’d never had a woman do something so bold as this. It was sexy and beautiful and intense all at once.
“You’re blindfolded?” I noted.
“So you’ll know that through every minute of this, I’ll only see you—I’ll only feel you.”
Taking a step toward her, I stopped. I wanted to ask her if she was sure . . . really sure, but asking could very well lead to the answer no, and if she wasn’t sure, I’d have to tear myself away. Something that felt almost impossible.
“Liam?”
“I’m here,” I assured her, my voice raspy.
Grabbing her hair, she twisted it over her shoulder. “If you don’t want me . . .” she began.
“Stop,” I told her. Wanting her was not the issue. It was far from the issue, and I wouldn’t let her think that.
She lowered her head and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted me, too.”
“I do want you,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Woman, you have no idea how fucking bad I want you.”
Lifting her chin, she asked, “Then why haven’t you touched me?”
“Because I’m scared,” I admitted as I ran a hand through my wet hair.
“Scared of what?”
“Of everything,” I huffed. “I’m scared of the unknown, of the idea I will probably die tomorrow, or I won’t and I’ll be stuck in this body forever. I’m scared that doing this with you will only make it that much harder to let go tomorrow, that it’ll only make me angrier than I already am.”
“I’m scared, too,” she murmured, “but it terrifies me to think if you do go, if tomorrow really is your last day, that I’ll have missed the chance to feel you.”
I clenched my teeth, her words hitting me right in the chest as I realized how right she was. If this was the only way, our only chance, I didn’t want to miss it, no matter how fucked up it seemed. “I’m afraid you’ll regret this. Are you sure, Waverly?” I wanted to remind her, again, about the unknowns that were ahead of us, remind her of the fact this could possibly be the only night we’d ever have together. If I were to die the next day, would doing this make it harder for her? In the end, I didn’t voice these things; I knew she already knew all of it, and I didn’t want to beat a dead horse.
“If you don’t come over here and touch me, kiss me,” she panted, “I’ll go mad, Liam. Please.”
As it had always seemed to be with her, my will disintegrated like sugar in water. I had no doubts what she wanted to do, and I knew doing this with her, that being with her this way was probably wrong on some level, but I didn’t care. I wanted this woman more than I wanted life itself. Dropping the pillow, I moved and stood before her, our bodies a breath apart. I was desperate to touch her, but I knew watching her, memorizing her body and mouth and curves was a torture worth every agonizing moment. Raising my hand, I let my fingertips skate softly over her collarbone before drifting them down her sternum between her heavy, rounded breasts. Her head tilted back, her mouth slightly parting as her body bowed toward mine, a soft whimper escaping her.
“Are you sure, Waverly?” I had to ask one more time. I needed her to be sure. Because if we started this, if I felt her body against mine, I had no idea how in the hell I’d walk away from her if she suddenly changed her mind.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” Sliding her hand over mine, she cupped, it forcing me to grope her soft full breast. Growling, my desire for her surging through me, I took her by the shoulders and turned her, taking her arms and raising them so her hands were against the glass.
My hands were merciless as they inspected the length of her body, taking their time as they skated over every firm, smooth curve. “You’re fucking perfect,” I panted against her skin. Letting my hands travel down her sides to her hips, I squeezed earning a moan from her. “So fucking perfect, Waverly.”
“I want you so bad,” she murmured as she twisted her neck, catching my lips with her tongue. I was so fucking turned on I didn’t know where to start. I wanted to take my time, worship her, but I also wanted to take her hard and fast. When she jutted her ass out, pressing it into me, I nearly lost my mind. Wrapping her in my arms, I squeezed her tightly, my mouth to her neck.
“This is going to take all night,” I warned her before nipping at her soft lobe. “I’m going to touch every inch of you.”
“Wait,” she moaned as she spun around pressing her hands to my chest. My stomach flipped. She didn’t want to do this. She’d changed her mind.
“Shit,” I breathed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—”
“Liam,” she interrupted. “I just want to do something first.”
“Birth control?” I questioned. It seemed the most pertinent topic.
“No.” she shook her head. “I found condoms, they’re on the couch, but thank you for asking. It’s something else.”
“Then what? What do you want to do?”
Biting her lower lip, she lowered her head slightly. I’d have given anything to see her eyes, to read them, to have some indication as to what she was thinking. “Show me all of your tattoos.”
I stared at her blankly. “You want to see the pictures again?”
“No,” she shook her head as her mouth quirked up slightly. “Use my hand. Describe them, show me where they are. Your scars and your birthmarks too. Show me everything.”
Something inside of me ached, a divine excruciating ache. I loved her. I knew it then, without a doubt, because only love could hurt and heal all at once.
Lowering my head, I kissed her. “As you wish.”
Taking my hand, he gently bent a few of my fingers down, so only two were extended. Touching them to his chest he moved them as he spoke, describing each tattoo. He took his time as he moved my hand over his body from his chest, down his arms, to his stomach to his back. And when he finished he clasped my hand in his and kissed each one of my knuckles.
I ached . . . everywhere. I’d never, in all my days, wanted a man as badly as I wanted him. Even blindfolded, one of my senses completely hindered, I yearned for him.
Raising my arms, he placed them on his shoulders and around his neck. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. Skating his hands down my sides sending a shiver through me, he placed them on my waist and pressed his cheek to mine as our bodies pressed together. Then, slowly, he moved us.
He was dancing with me.
There was no music, and I couldn’t see a thing, but it was more because I felt it. I felt his breath on my shoulder, his heart pounding in his chest against mine, his skin against my skin. I felt the way he moved me. My body followed his lead without question or hesitation, as if it knew to trust him. How far I had come. Days before I was convinced I’d never feel this way for anyone. I had lost faith and hope that someone would come along and earn my trust this way. I’d grown in the years since Max left me, and in many ways, I was stronger than ever.
As we swayed in the quiet, I thought of what Liam said earlier when he was teaching me to drive the bike. How he spoke about trusting yourself enough to make the powerful machine move—how it was like a dance; the give and take. Was this so different?
Pulling his head back, he raised my chin and kissed me.
Then, as one soft kiss led to a fevered one, our hands dug into flesh, and our breaths turned to pants and moans, we moved into a different kind of dance.
A beautiful dance of twisted bodies.
The most sacred dance of all.
It was barely eight in the morning as Pimberly sat next to me, her head leaning against my arm as she drank milk from her sippy cup. She’d slept later than usual. I’d put Waverly to bed not long before, but I couldn’t sleep. I was too wired. Still, I liked this. This was time for just Pim and me to hang. As we sat in silence and Pim struggled to emerge from her morning haze, my mind drifted somewhere else.
The night before, which had seeped into the wee hours of the morning, had been the best night of my life. Images of Waverly, naked, her mouth parted as she gasped and moaned with pleasure, her fingers threaded in my hair, her body arched on the couch with the city lights enhancing every soft curve of her body were imprinted, a reel that ran on repeat over and over in my head. We bit and clawed and sucked every inch of each other before we’d ended up on the couch, her straddling me as she sheathed me inside of her.
It was the most intense feeling I’d ever experienced. It was the perfect storm of bodies’ cravings, souls’ needs, and hearts’ wants joining. When I’d felt the deepest part of her, I’d sat straight up and held her, holding her in place as I pressed my forehead between her breasts. She wrapped her arms around my head and held me as she relaxed down on me, understanding I needed her to be still for a moment; I needed this feeling to stay with me for as long as possible. When I could move again, I kissed my way to her breast and flicked my tongue against her pert bud. Dropping her head back, she whimpered before bringing it back to rest her forehead against mine.
“You feel so good, Liam” she’d whispered. “I don’t ever want this to end.”
Her saying my name with lust was brutal and incredible all at once. I’d have given anything to tear the mask from her face and look into her eyes, but I knew as badly as I wanted to see her, she wouldn’t see me. It was how it would have to be. If I couldn’t have her sight, I’d devour all of her other senses in every way I could so she would feel me. It may not have been my body, but it was me; my heart, my soul, my love . . . me.
Finally, I relaxed my hold, and she rose slowly before sliding back down. That was just the beginning. When I’d told her it would take all night, I’d meant it. We were slow as she rode me, then we were fast when I flipped her on the couch and slammed inside of her with her legs over my shoulders. On our sides, on her knees with me behind her, we did it all. At the finish, we were on the floor, my body atop hers, as we kissed. We felt it, the end in sight. We’d been aboard a rocket for hours, but just as rockets must land, we knew we’d have to as well. Grabbing my face in her hands as I slid in and out of her, her voice was raspy with a hint of emotion as she said, “Whatever happens tomorrow, I need you to know right here, right now, I believe you. I need you to know that I love you, Liam.”
“Vroom-vroom,” Pim piped up, waking me from my thoughts. I laughed as I pulled her up and sat her on my lap. Placing her soft little hand on my face, I jerked my head and pretended I was going to bite her. She giggled.
I kissed her forehead, my chest aching. Saying goodbye to her would be just as difficult as saying goodbye to Waverly would be. She had been the first person to like me as Max. She, more than anyone, had every reason to hate him after being abandoned by him, but she was too young to understand what had been done. I got to meet her with a clean slate. It hurt to think what would happen later. Whether Max and I switched back and I died, or we both died, she wouldn’t understand why I was here one day and not the next. I hated that. It was just another example of why all this felt like a punishment. Maybe it was, but I was grateful for every sweet moment with this little girl; the hugs, the giggles, her spaghetti-filled hands smearing across my face. All of it. Every moment had been a gift.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen today,” I murmured quietly, “but just in case, I want you to remember a few things. First, never ride a motorcycle without a helmet. Second, don’t get on a bike with just anyone. Only ride with a guy you know really cares about you.”
Squeezing her, I went on. “In another life, if I were your father, you’d be the baddest little biker chick that ever walked the planet. I’d teach you how to ride and to fix your own ride so you wouldn’t have to rely on any dirty biker guys to help you. Your mother would threaten to kill me for letting you drive a motorcycle.”
My chest ached with that thought. A life with Waverly and Pim; a life where we were a family. A life I felt deep down I would never have. It all seemed so unfair, so cruel. Why the hell was I put here just so I could fall for Waverly and this little girl, only to have it yanked from me? Taking a deep breath, I pushed away the anger that was trying to take hold of me. Getting angry wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t change a thing.
Taking her little hand in mine, I ran my thumb over her soft skin. “You’ve got a tough road ahead of you, little one. You don’t understand what your father did, and when you are finally able to you still won’t really
understand. I’m sorry for that because I know you’ll want answers. You’ll want to know why he turned away from you, but sometimes we don’t get answers and the ones we get don’t make anything better. Some people are just broken. Your father is one of those people. Even though none of his actions have proven it, I think he wished he could’ve been in your life. He just didn’t know how.”
Pim rested her head against my chest as I spoke. I knew she couldn’t understand what I was saying, but I said it anyway. I don’t know why. Maybe it was more for me than her.
“Thank you, Pim,” I whispered to her, fighting the knot in my throat. Damn, I hated this. I hated having to say goodbye because we didn’t know for sure what would happen. I wanted to blame the steroid withdrawals for my emotion, but I knew better. The symptoms had lessened significantly over the past few days. My heart was twisted in my chest as I held Pim. Withdrawals definitely weren’t the cause. This was real, this was me, Liam, saying goodbye to a little girl that I wished was mine. She was mine. At least, to me she was. I didn’t care who helped make her, how her genetic makeup was pieced together, in my heart she was my daughter and always would be.
“I want you to know you made my last days on this earth better than any of the days before I met you.” My breath shuddered as I fought to keep it steady. “Thank you for that, little sweetheart. I love you.”
Pim sat up and stared up at me. “Okay, Liam?” she garbled. I chuckled hoarsely, her question warming my heart and breaking it at the same time. She was checking on me, making sure I was all right. How could someone so little cause me such intense heartbreak?
