by Jewel E. Ann
Do what I need to do? Stupid psychobabble bullshit.
“Yep.” I cringe after the word falls out. Please let her react better to my “yep” than Vivian.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Oliver. I love you.”
“You too. Tell everyone hi for me.”
“I will.”
I toss my phone aside. Yeah, sure Happy Thanksgiving. It’s been a real peachy day. The best part of it is evidenced on my shirt. The rest … Caroline—I still hate her.
*
Vivian
It’s heartbreaking that Oliver feels the need to lie to me, and equally so that he has to do the same with Jackie. What Oliver doesn’t know is that Lily called Jackie after he was escorted out of the hospital. It must be a motherly thing; she was worried about him and wanted us to know what had happened. She called a second time when she got home and discovered he and all his stuff was gone. That was about ten minutes before he called me. Funny how he never mentioned any of it. So now we know he’s had a breakdown and he’s no longer staying with Doug and Lily. What we don’t know is where he is staying or what frame of mind he’s in.
The phone sex wasn’t planned, and honestly I didn’t think he’d be interested after what had happened earlier. But I’ve been studying like a crazy woman, and Oliver’s been so busy, my body needed a release. Then Chance showed up with Ronnie and I caught them in the hallway making out. Not like, we’ve-been-having-sex-but-are-just-messing-around making out, it was, you’ve-been-frustrating-the-hell-out-of-me-for-months-I’m-dying-to-fuck-you-for-the-first-time making out. He had her shoved up against the wall, you’re-under-arrest style, and he was grinding his crotch against her ass while massaging her sex through her jeans. They didn’t see me and it’s embarrassing to admit that I hid behind the Ficus tree and watched him give her an orgasm, but it’s true. So when Oli called I was hot and bothered and already on the verge of having my own orgasm.
“These pies look amazing!” Jackie smiles while cutting them.
I’ve taken at least a dozen pictures of them because she’s right, they do look … well, like somebody else made them.
“Did Oliver say when he’ll be home?” Chance asks.
I shake my head.
“For sure by Alex and Sean’s wedding,” Jackie answers to my surprise.
“He said that?” I glance over at her.
“Yes.” She nods.
“What about Christmas?” My mom asks.
“He’s going to try…” she looks at me with a sad smile “…but he didn’t sound as confident about it as I’d hoped.”
My posture sags and I’m sure everyone else sees it.
“Maybe you should fly out to Portland as soon as you’re done with classes,” Chance suggests.
Jackie and Hugh scowl at him.
“What?” He takes a sip of water. “Oliver’s the best version of himself when he’s with Vivian and maybe he needs a little reminder of what he’s missing.”
“He needs to find something I can’t give him.”
Jackie nods with pain in her eyes. “Closure.”
I nod back.
“Who cares? Go out anyway and surprise him. He has to be missing you something fierce.”
“I can’t afford it.” I look down at my pecan pie.
My dad’s hand covers mine. “Yes, you can.”
I look up and he winks at me.
“Consider it your Christmas present from me and your mom.”
My parents have struggled financially for so many years. I want to turn down his offer as I’ve done so many times before, but I can’t. Yes, I’m dying to see Oliver, but right now I know how much this means to my dad and that alone is the reason I accept his gift.
“Thank you.” I hug him with tears in my eyes and then lean the other way and hug my mom.
I look at Jackie and see the concern etched along her face. She’s worried about Oliver’s emotional state, and she’s worried about me being in Portland with him so close to the source of his pain.
I smile at her. “I’ve got this.”
It’s faint, but she smiles back.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Smack
The days between Thanksgiving and the start of my winter break fly by. When I’m not in class or studying, I’m helping tame the Bridezilla. How Alex is managing to pass her classes and prepare for her wedding at the same time is way beyond my comprehension.
“You’re going to be back for my bachelorette party, right?”
I laugh. “Yes, at least that’s what my round-trip ticket says.”
“And he still doesn’t know you’re coming?”
I pile my folded jeans into my suitcase. “Not unless you’ve blabbed or sent him pictures of me packing.”
“Then how are you going to find him since he still hasn’t confessed that he’s no longer staying with Caroline’s parents.”
“My plan is to show up at his work.”
Alex hands me my sweaters. “And if he’s not there, what’s your backup plan?”
“I’ll turn around and fly back to Boston.”
“What?”
I laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t have a backup plan. If he’s not there, I’ll think of something. Maybe an airplane banner over the city that says Oliver Konrad, where are you?”
Alex chuckles. “Nice, Flower, go with that one.”
I zip my suitcase and lug it off the bed. “Don’t leave your sneakers out where Rosenberg can get them.”
“Don’t forget your ID.” Alex follows me down the stairs.
“Don’t forget to check the front step for delivery packages.”
“Don’t forget to make it home for my bachelorette party.”
I slip on my coat and grab my purse as Alex does the same. “Don’t forget it’s poor etiquette to kill the groom during a Bridezilla rage.” Alex holds the door open for me as I kiss Rosenberg goodbye. “And don’t forget to give Rosenberg his present from me on Christmas.”
She shuts the door behind us. “Don’t forget how weird I think it is that you treat that mutt like a human being.”
*
Traveling two days before Christmas … crazy. Showing up unannounced in a new city … beyond crazy. I hope wherever Oliver is staying there’s room for me—I didn’t make hotel reservations. On the cab ride to his work my nerves kick in. As unimaginable as it is, what if he’s not happy to see me? Maybe he’s really busy and I won’t be the exciting surprise I’m imagining. Then there’s Alex’s scenario: He won’t be there and I can’t find him.
After paying the cab driver, I wheel my suitcase up to the gray building entrance. I find Sturgeon, Wallace, and Faye, 22nd floor. When the elevator doors open an older lady with silver-streaked ginger hair and yellowed teeth gives me a welcoming smile.
“Welcome to Sturgeon, Wallace, and Faye, how may I help you?”
“I’m Vivian Graham, here to see Oliver Konrad.”
She looks at her computer screen with her lips pursed to the side.
“I don’t have an appointment. I’m a very close friend and I’m here to surprise him.”
My comment elicits a once-over look and another polite smile. “I’m sorry. Mr. Konrad is out of the office and I’m not sure if he’ll be back in today. He had an out-of-office meeting with a client at one.”
I nod while strumming my nails on the counter. Dang! What’s my plan B?
“Do you have his cell number?”
I sigh. “Yes, it’s just … I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.”
She shuffles a few papers around on her desk. “I take it you and Mr. Konrad are close?”
I smirk. “Yes, you could say that.” A warm blush creeps up my neck.
She rolls her blue eyes up to me. “As in … really close?”
I glance around to see if anyone else is hearing our conversation, then look back at her with narrowed eyes. “Yes, really close. Why?”
She clears her throat. “Well if it were me, I’d ask to use Mr. Konrad’s offi
ce, to make a phone call or something like that.” Now she scans the room and lowers her voice, leaning in toward me. “Then I’d lock his door, close the blinds, and take a picture of myself to send to him.” She winks. “You know … one that says come hither.”
My eyes widen. I’m not sure whether I should be offended by her unprofessional behavior, or grateful for what really does seem to be a brilliant idea.
She sits up straight again and taps at her keyboard. “But that’s just what I would do.”
My body remains a statue, maybe for a minute maybe for five, I’m not sure. Finally I suck in a breath of courage.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
She smiles. “Samantha.”
I offer my hand and she accepts with a dainty shake.
“Well, Samantha, I was wondering if it might be okay if I used Mr. Konrad’s office to make a private call?”
She stands and smirks. “You got it. Follow me.”
After securing the lock and closing all the blinds to the hall windows, I look around his office. There are two brown leather wingback chairs, a mahogany desk, his chair, and a few file cabinets. I walk to the large window overlooking the city. It’s an incredible view of Portland, including the Willamette River. The building across the street has tinted windows so it’s just a random guess as to whether or not someone can see in here. I’ll risk it.
Oliver is a tidy guy so it doesn’t take much to clear a spot on his desk. I slip out of my jeans and sweater then position myself on my side with my head resting on one arm while I hold out my phone with the other and take a few shots. They’re not too bad, wish it could be from a little farther back but I think asking Samantha to take it for me might be crossing some line, even if my intuition is that she’d do it.
I pick out the best shot—cleavage, thong, my tongue wetting my upper lip, and just enough of his desk that he will know it’s his desk. Then I send off a text.
Me: Hey, babe. What’s up?
Oliver: Grabbing a late lunch. Just got done with a meeting. What are you doing?
I send the picture with a message: Not much. Just waiting for my attorney to get back to his office.
Oliver: WTF!!!!!!
I should just be nice and wait for him to get here, but what fun is that?
Me: It’s chilly in here. My nipples are so hard. Maybe I’ll just rub them.
I wait a few minutes.
Me: I’ve never had sex on a desk. Do you think I should lie down flat with my legs spread or bend over the edge with my ass in the air?
It’s only been a few minutes, but I hear his voice outside the door.
“Are Brice and Mitchell gone for the day?”
“Yes, Mr. Konrad.”
“Then you can leave early, Samantha.”
“Are you sure?”
I giggle, knowing she’s just messing with him.
“Positive. Have a good holiday.”
“You too, Mr. Konrad.”
The doorknob jiggles then I hear his key slide in the lock.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Konrad.” I greet him with my sexiest voice.
He smirks while his eyes peruse my nearly-naked body sprawled out on his desk. Oliver in a suit is a spontaneous orgasm. Oh. My. God! He moves toward me like he’s on the prowl. I swallow hard. Move over leather work boots, you’ve forever been replaced with this image. There is nothing sexier than a guy loosening his tie with a predatory look in his eyes.
“Sorry I’m late, Miss Graham. I wasn’t aware you were added to my schedule.” He removes his jacket, tie, and shirt with calculated patience. He’s teasing me … tempting me, and he damn well knows it. “But I’m glad you waited and now that I’m here …” He tugs my legs and brings me to standing. Tracing a finger over the swell of my breasts he smirks again then works the belt and zipper of his pants. “… We should start with a debriefing.”
I look up at him, my body tingling, heart pounding. He rests his hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the desk. Placing his hand flat on my back, he nudges me forward until I’m bent over his desk, resting on my elbows.
I hear the clink of his belt buckle as his pants fall to the floor. I squirm as he pulls down my panties. Looking over my shoulder at him, I grin, but his face is stone.
He steps his leg between mine, forcing me to widen my stance. I tense as his right hand touches the bare skin of my ass.
He rubs small circles. “Would you say you’ve been naughty or nice this year, Miss Graham?”
I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until my answer comes out as a timid squeak. “Nice.”
Smack!
“Shit!” I yell as my mind races to catch up. Holy crap! He just spanked me! It was hard but not painful, and my reaction was from the shock of it, not the feeling.
“Now see…” he rubs the same area he just hit “…I disagree. Looking back, I recall several incidents which landed you on the naughty list.”
“Oli …”
“Now, now …” I close my eyes as I feel his lips on my back. “In the spirit of the holiday, I’m still going to grant you your wish.”
“What’s tha—ahhhh!”
He slams into me then stills. “Me,” he whispers in my ear.
And then it begins—the slapping of our skin, labored breaths and desperate moans, the squeak of the desk, and eventually my loud scream of ecstasy.
*
“I can’t believe you spanked me,” I mumble against Oliver’s lips between kisses as we ride the elevator up to his hotel room.
“I can’t believe you liked it so much.”
“What?” I shove his chest as he chuckles.
He shrugs. “You did. I watched your face while I did it and after the initial five seconds of shock, I saw the corners of your sexy little lips turn up into a smile.”
“It was a grimace, you idiot! The corners of a person’s lips curl up when they grimace too, not just when they smile. Jeez, you’re a sadist.”
The elevator doors open and I stomp off with purpose leaving Oliver behind with my suitcase.
“Left,” Oliver says as I come to the T-intersection of the hall.
I turn left like I already knew that—although of course I didn’t.
“Back here,” he says with a chuckle as he slides his key into the door of a room I passed ten strides ago.
I stop and let out a sigh then turn and sulk back to the door Oli’s holding open for me.
“You liked it,” he whispers with a taunting edge to his words as I walk inside the room.
“Shut up! I did not.”
He scoops me up eliciting a squeal then tosses me on the bed and straddles my body. “So what brings you to the West Coast, Ms. Graham?”
We had sex on his desk, got dressed, cuddled in his chair, had sex in his chair, got dressed, then made out like teenagers on the drive to the hotel. What we haven’t done is talk about … anything.
“Sex. I flew in for sex.” I look at the imaginary watch on my wrist. “I fly back out in an hour.”
“Funny girl, huh?” He pins my hands above my head and kisses me.
“God … I’ve missed you.” There, I’ve said it. I miss him, all the time—every hour, every minute, every second. Now how do I tell him to make things right and come home to me?
“Well, not anymore. You stole my surprise by showing up here.” He wiggles his brows. “Not complaining. I’m coming home the day before the wedding … for good.”
I try to make my outward smile hide my inward sadness. Oliver doesn’t know that I already knew he was planning on coming home. He also doesn’t know that it breaks my heart that all his time here in Portland was for nothing.
“Well, say something!”
I open my mouth then shut it. “That’s amazing!”
“Vivian, my love…” he shakes his head “…remember, you can’t lie worth shit. My mom told you, didn’t she?”
I grimace and nod. Oli flops over on the bed next to me. “God! Typical shrink. Th
ey only keep your secrets if you pay them.”
I laugh. “Shrink? That’s your mom you’re talking about.”
“Well, either she’s terrible at keeping secrets or you hypnotize people with your mesmerizing eyes until they tell you all their secrets.” He turns on his side facing me. “I’ve gotten lost in them many times, it could go either way, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Whatever.” I look around the hotel room and see if I can make my next statement more believable. “So, why the hotel room?”
“Oh, Doug and Lily were having family in for the holiday and since I was going to be leaving soon anyway, I just decided to get a hotel room.”
I’m not sure if Oli’s a good liar or not. I knew the truth before I asked so I can’t say for sure.
“Well, lucky us.” I roll on top of him and yank his tie that’s hanging in a loose knot around his neck. “I like you in a tie. I’m thinking for my next birthday, just a tie and boots … in public, of course.”
“Are you trying to get me arrested?”
“Oh, Oli …” I work the buttons of his shirt. “You’re such an enigma, all stuffy and we’re-not-having-sex-in-public one minute and the next you’re screwing me in an alley or bending me over your desk and spanking me. I think you’re a bad boy by nature and a bore by nurture.”
“A bore?” He slides his hands under my shirt and unfastens my bra.
“Yes, you grew up with money and manners—boring.”
He laughs while sitting up and pulling off my shirt. “I guess I’ll have to try and be less of a bore.” Bending down he sucks in my nipple and bites it, hard!
Chapter Thirty-Three
Broken
Oliver
Vivian coming all this way to see me is the best gift ever. When we’re together the world is perfect again. It doesn’t matter that we’re not with our families, or that we wake up in a hotel room on Christmas morning. She’s all I need.
“So since I fly out tomorrow are we staying in bed all day?” Vivian asks as she feeds me an orange wedge, part of our Christmas morning room service in bed.
