by Jewel E. Ann
She rolls her eyes. “I’m serious.”
“I am too.” I grin. “But, no, I’m not dying any more than you are.”
She steps back, opening the last box. Pulling out a fleece blanket, she tosses it on the bed next to me, then she pulls out a pillow and hugs it to her chest. Worrying her teeth over her bottom lip she stares at me. “I like to rest my head on a pillow when I sleep.”
Fuck!
I swallow hard and shake my head slowly. “I can’t.”
“It’s not for you, just for me—”
“I can’t.” I try to keep the anger out of my voice.
She steps toward me with the pillow, and I feel the sweat bead on my skin. “Vivian?” I hold up my hand and shake my head faster. She stops. “Remember what I just said to you?”
She nods.
I try to control my breathing and steady my voice. “Good, then you need to get rid of the fucking pillow before I tear it to shreds.”
The woeful frown on her face guts me, but I can’t change what’s happening and I hate myself for it. As much as I want to put on an act and pretend the anxiety inside isn’t eating me alive, I can’t.
A few tears escape her eyes then she turns and puts the pillow back in the box and carries it downstairs. I can’t breathe as sweat drips down my face. I shrug off my clothes and jump into the cold shower. Regret washes over me faster than the water.
I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.
Chapter Seventeen
For Your Pleasure or Mine?
Oliver
We go to work, eat, sleep, and even make love like it’s the first and the last time. She’s still her playful, funny, and sexy-as-hell self, as if I didn’t nearly have a breakdown in front of her over a damn pillow. I try to smile at the right times and act engaged in our conversations. I’m living with the woman I love more than life itself, yet I’m miserable.
“Are you excited for your birthday tomorrow?” Lively eyes gaze up at me as we take the Red Line to work.
Shaking my head, I cup her ass and pull her close to me. “It’s just another day.”
She sucks in her lips biting them together. Then she whispers in my ear, “We’ll see if by the end of the day tomorrow you’re still calling it just another day.”
And … I’m hard. Just great.
“Thanks for the boner. This is my stop.”
She kisses me and grins. “Love you.”
“Mmm, you too.” I turn to get off the subway and she smacks me on the ass. I whip around to see the devilish temptress in her eyes and catch a few snickers and grins from the passengers around her. As soon as I step off and the doors shut, I text her.
Me: Paybacks are a bitch, my love!
Vivian: I hope so!
*
Chance and I have started a new project at a park near the harbor. It’s going to be a back-breaking day with over six tons of rock and fifty bags of mulch to haul by wheelbarrow.
“What’s Vivian got planned for your big day?”
“She won’t say.”
“I bet it involves leather, whips, and icing on her cupcakes.”
I dig the shovel into the pile of rock. “I don’t think about her that way.” Lie.
“Sure you don’t. That’s why you couldn’t even get out of Mom and Dad’s driveway before nailing her in the backseat of your car.”
“And there it is.” I shake my head and lift the handles of the wheelbarrow. “I was actually surprised and kind of proud of you for not mentioning it all week when I thought for sure you’d be razzing me about it on Monday.”
“It is impressive, isn’t it?” He tosses a couple bags of mulch over his shoulder.
“Was, it was impressive, but not anymore.”
“Mom and Dad are worried about you.”
“What’s new?”
“They think you’re going to mess this up by not telling her.”
“I’m going to tell her. Everyone else needs to just butt out.”
“When?”
I dump the load of rock onto the landscaping paper. “After we get back from her parents’ house next weekend.”
“Good call. Then they’ll have a face to put with the name of the guy who broke their little girl’s heart.”
“I’m not going to break her heart!” There he goes pushing all the right buttons.
“Hey, man, don’t get upset. I understand—”
“You don’t fucking understand! Nobody does! You weren’t there, you didn’t see what I saw!”
Chance looks around to see if anyone’s hearing me. He doesn’t say anything … for the rest of the day.
*
Vivian
“Oli?” I whisper while straddling him. “You’re going to miss the sunrise on your big day, baby.”
He flops his arm over his face. I take a mental picture of him hoping that in fifty years we’re doing the same thing and that I will still remember this day. Kissing my way up and over the bumpy muscles of his abs, I pull his arm off his face. He squeezes his eyes shut like a defiant little boy.
“Fine.” I crawl off him. “I’ll be on the deck if you change your mind.”
“Wait!”
I smile and don’t have to turn around to know that he’s opened his eyes. “You like?”
“Get back here.”
I turn around so he can see the front of my sexy red lace teddy connected to G-string bottoms. “I’ll meet you on the deck.”
“Vivian!”
I grin all the way to the deck. As soon as I open the door his hands are on my bare ass, caressing it.
“Have a seat, birthday boy.”
He sits in the lounge chair and grins like I’m just about to make all his dreams come true … and I am. The sky is still dark but there’s a small line of light teasing the distant horizon.
“Have you ever had sex while watching the sunrise, Oli?”
He shakes his head as his eyes follow me. I spread his legs and kneel on the chair between them. “Good. Now, I believe you’re thirty today, correct?”
He nods and his mouth goes slack as I release him from his briefs.
“Well lucky for you I don’t have a strong gag reflex so you just sit back and watch the sunrise while I give you a thirty minute birthday blow job.”
His breath catches as I take him in my mouth. “I-I don’t know if … I’ll last … thirty minutes.”
I look up at him while my tongue makes a slow stroke to the tip. “Oh you won’t, baby.” I take him in as far as I can then suck and swirl my tongue around him as I release him. “But that’s okay, I’ll swallow and start over again.”
*
Thirty minutes, one quick, and two long orgasms later, Oli gets dressed while I make breakfast.
“Here, baby.” I set his plate down as he takes a seat at the table.
“Mmm, smells good.”
“Ground turkey hash and wheat toast. Coffee?”
“Please.” He turns as I walk back to the kitchen and he’s still staring at me as I return with two cups of coffee.
“What?” I raise a brow.
“Are you going to wear that to work?”
I look down at my red teddy. “Yes.”
His eyes attempt to pop out of their sockets.
“Maggie said business has been a little slow lately so I thought I could stand out front, like a mascot, and draw in some new customers.”
His toast falls from his hand back to his plate.
“Kidding, Oli.” I laugh and shake my head. “Relax, I’m just kidding.”
He struggles to smile as he continues to eat.
“You’ve been kind of quiet, even a little withdrawn since the sunrise. I sort of expected the opposite, I mean … you enjoyed it, right?”
He chuckles looking down at his plate. “Yes, it was enjoyable and unexpected.”
My appetite vanishes. I can see something is bothering him. There’s really nothing more humiliating than dressing up in lingerie and sucking a guy’s dick for
a half hour only to be given the cold shoulder and told it was “enjoyable.” A good movie or dinner with friends is enjoyable, an epically long birthday blow job deserves a better adjective.
I stand and take my plate to the kitchen. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m going upstairs to get ready for work.”
“Vivian?”
I stop midway up the stairs. “Hmm?”
“Is something wrong?”
I don’t know, you tell me!
“Nope. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I turn and sulk my way to the closet.
“Enjoyable, I eat three servings of your cum for breakfast and all you can say is it was enjoyable!” I mumble to myself as I shimmy out of this stupid, itchy, expensive piece of nothing.
I’ve never wanted to lump Oliver into the “typical man” category until today, on his birthday of all days. I can’t even chew his ass out for being so insensitive—maybe tomorrow. I wonder what the waiting period is for yelling at someone for acting stupid on their birthday.
“Let’s go.” I fake a smile as I grab my purse.
“Thanks for breakfast. It was incredible!” He slips on his boots by the front door.
Potatoes and turkey are incredible, but a thirty minute blow job is enjoyable? I’m rethinking my plans for him later. Maybe we’ll order in and I can knit while he scrubs the kitchen floor again. That’s probably enjoyable too. We walk down the front steps and head toward Harvard Square.
“I was thinking of taking you out tonight, but now I’m wondering if you would rather stay in and order takeout?”
He wraps his arm around me. “Sounds perfect.”
Of course it does. Thirty must be the new fifty. I should have gotten him loafers and a cardigan for his birthday. It’s possible I have a bruised ego taunting me. It’s also possible that he’s already bored with me. Maybe Alex is right. Oliver may want to spice things up between us, which seems ridiculous since we are still in the early honeymoon stage of our relationship. I suppose I could pick a few things up and try them out on him tonight. He’s probably had more blow jobs than I care to imagine so this morning was just an extended version of an all too familiar routine.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
Oh nothing. Just making a mental note to Google sex toy shops when I get to work.
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
*
Our morning is busy, well, at least in the illegal cash sales. Maggie and her VIP customers have spent most of the morning sorting out the fine details of everything that’s wrong with our government—campaign financing … blah, blah, blah … corporate government … blah, blah, blah … and, of course, the need to legalize marijuana.
“Some of your customers don’t look sick anymore, yet they keep coming in. What’s up with that?”
Maggie laughs. “Look at how long I’ve been in remission, but I still smoke a joint before bed every night. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“Are you suggesting I try it?”
“Absolutely! This could be a real kick-ass year for you, Viv. Sex, pot, and Harvard.”
I open a new box of gardening gloves and refill the display. “With my luck it would be sex, pot, jail, and no Harvard.”
“Pish posh, I’ll send home a couple for you to share with your birthday boy tonight. Just don’t smoke them on the subway or your front door steps and you’ll be fine.”
“I sort of had something else planned for tonight. I don’t know if it should be mixed with pot.”
“What’s that, sweetie?”
I giggle and shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to you, but what the hell. I was planning on picking up some toys to try out.”
“Shoot.” She waves her hand at me. “I’ve seen it all … and used most of it too.”
My jaw takes a nosedive to the floor. “What!”
“Don’t look so surprised. Before I was into scarves and wigs I was quite the naughty little minx.”
“Maggie!”
“It’s true. Ask me anything.”
“I-I … well—”
“Are you thinking something geared toward his pleasure or yours?”
“Uh … um …”
“Never underestimate the power and pleasure of a good strap-on penis. I’d recommend a beginner kit and start small unless he has experience in this area. Maybe check with him before you buy anything. They don’t usually allow returns. Oh, don’t forget … lots of lube.”
Is she high? Am I? I can’t imagine how Oliver would react to a text asking him if he’s had a dildo or strap-on penis stuck up his ass, and if so what size can he accommodate?
“Now if you’re thinking something less expensive may I suggest his-and-her pleasure vibrators. Once again, lots of lube especially if you get one for your G-spot. I’m guessing Oliver is pretty well endowed so your little vagina that hasn’t been broken in yet may not easily allow both him and the vibrator at the same time. But once you get both in … wowza! Let me tell you, it’s serious amazballs!”
Oh. My. God! This conversation is not really happening. I’m going to wake up soon with sweat dripping down my body and I’m going to laugh hysterically at this weird dream my mind has conjured up.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll just stick to the weed for tonight. With the no return policy and high price tags, I’d hate to make a hasty decision without checking something like uh … Consumer Reports or Good Housekeeping.”
Maggie hands me the last pair of gloves and I punch them with the pricing gun and slip them on the rack. “Okay, but if you’d like I could see what I have in my basement. I’m sure I have a box or two with a nice assortment of everything. I could throw it all in the dishwasher for a good cleaning and Lysol anything with a battery pack.”
I grin. “We’re good. I’m sure the new stuff is BPA and phthalate free now and then there could be recalls. So … we’ll stick to the weed for tonight.” It’s insane that by this point in our conversation smoking marijuana seems innocent, almost normal, compared to everything else.
“Suit yourself. You know where to reach me if you change your mind.”
Um … yeah, that won’t be happening.
Chapter Eighteen
Crossing Lines
Oliver
I’ve never been the jealous type, until Vivian crashed into my life. Three years for someone my age is a long time to go without sex. Now I’ve been handed this incredible sexual genie in a bottle who turns my fantasies into reality. The problem is … every time she puts my dick in her mouth all I see is Kai. Her mouth on him.
“Hey, birthday boy!” Vivian greets me at the door with an enthusiastic hug and a long sensual kiss. “How was your day?”
“Not as good as this.” I kiss her again. “But it was okay.”
“Hmm, well I have dinner—Indian, and I picked up a cake. I know your mom is going to bake you one tomorrow so I’m not even going to try and compete with her.”
I untie my boots and slip them off then remove my sweaty T-shirt. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Care to join me?”
She stares at my chest and then she does her signature lip lick, like she wants to devour me. Thirty’s not feeling too bad today.
“I’d love to, I mean really love to, but if I do, we both know it won’t be a quick shower and dinner will be cold.” She blows me a kiss from the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
I shrug and turn taking the stairs one slow step at a time while unfastening my jeans and easing them over my hips exposing part of my ass. “Your loss.”
“Nice briefs, babe. At least one of us is wearing underwear today.”
I try to play it cool but damn if she didn’t just beat me at my own game. “Did I mention I’m going to staple them to your ass if you don’t start wearing them?”
“You may have.”
I mumble a few indiscernible expletives and head to the bathroom for a very cold shower. An ocean of thoughts flow through my mind and
the chaos in my brain is almost nauseating. I’m uncontrollably in love with Vivian. In such a short amount of time she’s infiltrated my thoughts, cast a spell over my body, and wormed her way into the deepest part of my heart. A day without her would feel like a lifetime without a breath, an eternity without light.
As I pull my T-shirt over my head and comb my fingers through my wet hair, I play with the words in my head. The words that she needs to hear, and she will—soon. I chuckle, but it’s not born of pleasure; it’s pain and utter disbelief of the sadistic irony of what’s to come. What will I say to her parents next week? “Hi, I’m the guy who is crazy about your daughter but as soon as we leave here I’m going to crush her because it’s unlikely that a twenty-two-year-old, even one as smart as your daughter, can wrap her head around the reality of my past.” Yeah, that should go over well.
*
I spot Vivian shoving her feet into her flip-flops and slinging her purse around her shoulder as I come down the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
She looks up at me and her eyes are red, cheeks tear-stained. “I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
Watery eyes look up at me as I pull her into my arms. “Beth died.” She sobs.
“Who’s Beth?”
“Kai’s sister.”
I tense at the mention of his name.
“Sh-she was in—a car ac-accident.”
“I’m so sorry.” The words come out automatically because I feel her pain and I want to take it away.
“I have to go.” Her broken voice is just above a whisper.
“Where?”
She steps back, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. “Hartford, with Kai. I’m driving him back in his car because he’s in no condition to drive. Alex and Sean will come Sunday and I’ll ride back with them after the funeral on Monday.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No … Kai doesn’t need that, or this … us.” She sighs.
I fight to keep my emotions controlled. “I thought things between you two were—”
