by K Larsen
“Apodyopsis,” I say. I know he will not know that word and I like that I can tell the truth without embarrassment or repercussion.
“I find it highly unfair that you use big words to throw me off.” He finagles his phone from his pocket. The light from the screen makes me squint. I realize too late what he is doing. I try to swat the phone from his hands with a little huff.
“Oh, no, Nora, I’m onto you,” he says. I flop, rather ungracefully, atop him but he moves his hand, clutching his phone, just out of my reach. He holds me back with an arm across my collarbone and makes a show of clearing his throat. “Eh hem, Apodyopsis. To mentally undress someone. My, my, my, Nora.” His tone is mischievous. There is a devilish glint in his eye as I freeze above him. I bite back a smile and roll off him.
“I’m not perfect. But I do use sex as a way to not have to deal with certain things. So, although I may be mentally undressing you, I expect you, as the gracious gentleman you are, to know that mentally undressing is as far as I will take it right now. If I attempt to sway you further, you must, and I mean must, tell me no. It is imperative for the success of our potential relationship.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Liam laughs. It is loud and hardy and I cannot keep my serious face.
“You expect me, a red blooded man, to turn you down?” he asks. I bite my bottom lip to stifle my grin and give him a look. “You drive a nearly impossible deal, Nora, you know that?”
“I’ve thought many times that perhaps my expectations are too high.”
“I’ll do my best to keep my filthy paws off you,” he says.
I beam at him. “That is excellent news.”
“You will have to be clear though. What exactly are the rules of this game?”
Rules. I never thought of setting rules. I prop myself up on an elbow and take in his defined jaw line; one I’d like to kiss, his shapely lips; ones I’d like to bite, his chest as it rises and falls; a chest I’d like to feel against mine.
“I suppose, kissing is okay. People dating kiss, yes?”
“Definitely,” he says.
“Handholding is okay, too.”
“Can I make you come?” he asks. My jaw drops.
I gasp. “Excuse me?”
“If I promise to keep you dressed. If I promise to not touch you anywhere intimate. Can I make you come?”
I give him a curious look. He is up to something. “How is that even possible?”
“I will show you. But not tonight,” he says. I fear the sensation of his fingers on my skin have lulled me into a false comfort as they stoke gently.
“No sex?” I ask.
“No. No sex. No naked bodies. No funny business either.”
“I feel compelled to say no, but I am so intrigued, that I am going to say yes. I will allow it.”
Liam laughs loudly. “Excellent.” I drop back down, flat on my back and stare at the sky. “I love the skyline. I love stars. I miss the peacefulness.” He stops abruptly.
I look to him. “The peacefulness of what?”
“Nothing. Of nature, you know.” But that is not what he meant. I can see it in the set of his jaw. He has made a mistake of some sort. Doled out more than he was willing; but of what, I do not know.
Liam
Nora is currently ass up, face down in her backyard. Some yoga pose. She flows in and out of poses effortlessly. Her sports bra and leggings cover little. My imagination runs rampant. I am crouched like a lovesick fool in the brush between her yard and the neighbors’, watching her. We have a date tonight. At my place. I offered to come to her but she refused. It has become apparent that Nora does not let people into her house often. I make a note to learn the names of some yoga poses for tonight. She ends up on her back, like a corpse staring upward. She is so still, it is difficult to tell if she is even breathing from this distance. Finally, she moves. Stands, surveys the yard with hands on hips and heads inside, wiping sweat from her brow. I push through the bushes and through her backyard. Her head bobs past one window, then the next. I peek inside.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I reach for it, check the caller ID—work—and accept. “Hello,” I say softly. “Mr. Lockwood.” It’s Mara, my assistant.
“Yes,” I say, still looking through the window. She’s in the bathroom, stripping naked.
“You have a meeting this afternoon and it’s almost one. I just wanted to see if you’d like me to cancel or reschedule?”
“No,” I say quietly. “I’ll be in.” I end the call and put my phone back in my pocket. I move left for a better view. Nora’s got her eyes closed as water flows down her face, breasts and hips. If she opened them right now, she’d see me. But she doesn’t. A frisson of excitement sweeps through me. “Fuck,” I whisper, as I unzip my pants. I pull out my cock and let my hand slide up and down in long, slow strokes. I promised her no sex until she says so, but I never agreed to not please myself in the meantime. My hand pumps my cock as I play a singular scene over and over in my head of her pleasing me. The way her nails would feel. The crack of her palm against my face. I try to make it perfect. And when it is, I come in silence outside her bathroom window shrouded by the trees and bushes in her backyard away from neighbors’ eyes.
I pull a tissue from my pocket and clean myself up before tucking my cock away. The shower water is cut. I can hear her humming softly through the cracked window. I step out of sight and lean my ear toward the window. It is one of the songs from my playlist, the night we fucked. A grin spreads across my face. I move through the backyard brush like a ghost. I cut up through the neighbors’ bushes to the side street where my car is parked.
Mike swings by at ten of five, just as I am packing up to leave for the day Normally, I would be happy to see him, but tonight I just want to get back to my house.
“Yo homie. What’s up?” Mike says.
“Headed home. Why?”
“The Blackies miss you.” His polo shirt collar is popped and he’s wearing sneakers. He must have just come back from a flight.
“If by Blackies you mean you ... I’m not concerned,” I say.
“Not just me,” he says and plants his ass on the corner of my desk.
I sigh. “Candy doesn’t concern me either.”
“Since when, man?” He gives me a look just short of pleading. He wants information.
I shrug. “I don’t know, since Nora.”
“What is up with this chick? Anything I need to know about?”
“You sound like my father.”
Mike cringes. He witnessed firsthand what my father could do when we were in high school. We’d been in the den playing video games. It was Thanksgiving break. Mike had finally pushed hard enough, and asked enough questions about my childhood, that I’d started to tell him about my mother, siblings, about the mountain. My father had burst through the door, belt in hand. He directed Mike to leave and me to kneel. We both obeyed. I got a beating and a harsh verbal reminder of why we were never to speak of our time on the mountain. Mike overheard just enough to know something was wrong. That us Lockwoods were harboring a secret of some sort, but he never asked me about my childhood again. He just motioned me to follow him when I exited the den. He drove us to his house.
“Nothing. And no. This isn’t a Candy situation. This is ... different. This is about my childhood,” I say.
Mike’s eyes snap to mine. “She’s not your sister or something is, she?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No. Just let me have her. I promise when I’m done with her, I will come back to you.”
Mike throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Fine, but listen, at least come to the club sometimes. It’s boring without my wingman.”
“Deal,” I say and slap his shoulder. “Now get the fuck out. I have a date tonight and need to get going.”
Mike stands and walks to the elevator with me. “Any chance you wanna share her for a little fun?”
I glare at him. “This one’s not for sharing.”
“Dude,
relax. We always share.” He puts his hands up in surrender.
“Not this time,” I grit out.
“Whatever, man. Chill.” He shrugs as we enter the elevator. I push the parking level button as the doors close.
“I’m chill Mike. Just trust me this time. Nora’s different. She’s not a plaything like the others. She has a purpose.”
He jams his hands in his jean pockets. “So, tell me what that purpose is.”
“Can’t or I would,” I say.
He is quiet a moment and then, “Your dad’s been talking, Liam. None of it good.”
“Is that why you’re here? Did he send you?”
He pulls his hands from his pants, throws them in the air again. “No. I’d never do that. I’m just giving you a heads up. I’m just curious is all. If you’ve got your dad's blood pressure spiked, I wanna know what’s going on.”
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. “I’m just making amends. Getting a little closure for myself. Just keep your mouth shut and don’t talk to my father.”
“Alright man. You got it. But don’t disappear on me again for weeks on end.”
“Fine. Monday night, you and me at the club. Bring your hoe-of-the-week,” I say, then chuckle.
“Very funny,” he says and lifts a hand in lieu of saying goodbye.
Nora
Summer air swirls around me. The breeze, a cool blast on my sun soaked skin.
“I don’t think I can keep coming to see you.” My voice is small and hesitant. I stare at Holden’s headstone and worry my lip. “It’s time, Holden.” I let my palm slide across the smooth cool granite as I stand. Tomorrow perhaps, I will tell Dr. Richardson about this. But no, I won’t. This place will always be my secret to keep. I bend, tighten my shoelaces and start my jog home. This time, with a playlist blaring in my ears of Liam recommended songs.
The door slaps closed behind me and before I have time to pull my earbuds out, Lotte is spewing words at me in a furious manner. I blink a few times and put my hands up.
“Slow down, Lotte.”
She crosses her hands over her chest and shoots me a pointed look. “What is with you lately?”
“Me?” I ask.
“Yeah. You’re always gone or off in lala land. We were supposed to go to yoga today at one and then you were going to drop me at N.E.L. for my group session.”
I look at the clock behind her and cringe. “I’m so sorry.” I pull my arm band off and set it on the counter.
“I miss you,” she says, before dramatically dropping herself into one of the kitchen chairs. I take the seat across from her and pull out my elastic.
“I have the rest of the afternoon free. We can do yoga in the yard and then I’ll take you for ice cream,” I offer.
She gives me a slight scowl but I can tell her irritation is thawing. “Where have you been lately?”
“I’ve been working on my book and seeing someone.”
“That Liam dude from the silent auction?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Do you like him?”
I hesitate but only for a second. “Yes. I do,” I answer.
“Do you think you could love him?” she asks.
I cock my head and take her in. Charlotte is coming into her own. She is thriving in school, has made some great friends and the group sessions at N.E.L. that she participates in have helped her make giant strides with her confidence. Not to mention her physical changes. She’s no longer underweight and childlike. Her inner beauty is now evident on the outside. Soon she will be the envy of all her girlfriends with her silky blonde hair and her innocent doe eyes. The boys will come knocking to try and claim her soft curves. I blow out a breath.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“What happens when you move on?” she asks, tucking silky strands of blond behind her ear.
“Move on from what?” I ask.
“From needing me and Eve. From Holden,” she says, elbows on the table, chin cradled in her palms.
“Lotte, you are not something to move on from. You are family. I suppose someday I may end up married but then again, you will grow up and move out, too.”
“Eve doesn’t date. She’s not moving on. I miss the mountain,” she says. This surprises me and I am sure my expression conveys it.
“No, you don’t,” I say.
“I miss the peacefulness of wide open spaces. I miss the simplicity of a world where there were only two people to worry about or interact with.” She tucks her long hair behind her ear.
I sigh. “I miss that, too, sometimes. But that world was not the real world.” Burt meanders in and lays down under the table at our feet.
“If we decided to be hermits, it would be,” she points out.
I laugh loudly. “You would hate your sister and me very quickly. This is the right place for you, Lotte. And even as we all grow and change paths, we will still be a family. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.”
“I don’t like change and it seems like change is coming. I can smell it, feel it just below the surface. Eve has been busy lately. Staying out later than normal. You’ve been distracted with your new guy, who by the way, we haven’t even really met. What if he’s crazy? Don’t you think our opinion matters?”
“Of course, it matters, love. You’re feeling left out. Would you like to meet Liam?” I ask.
She nods. “And I’d like yoga and ice cream, too.”
“How about this? I will invite him to Aubry’s birthday party next weekend. So he can meet all of you. I hope you will be nice to him though. And tonight after my date, I will come straight home and read to you. What are you reading now anyway?”
“Fallen. I’m about a third through and liking it. It’s a paranormal romance and it’s a movie, so when I’m finished, we can watch it, too!” she says.
I grin at the young woman before me. We are so lucky to have each other and I must try harder to not take my home life for granted. I am not used to balancing a social and home life. “Deal.” I stand. “You grab the mats and I’ll get the portable speaker.”
Liam’s kitchen is a cook's dream. It is spacious with more counter space than I could ever hope for. He unpacks the groceries I brought over, while simultaneously telling me which cabinet the required pots and pans live in.
“I’m perfectly capable of cooking you dinner,” he says.
“I know, but I thought it would be nice for me to treat you.”
“What are you making?” he asks, eyeballing the various vegetables laid out before him.
“It’s a vegetable pie, essentially. Do you know how to make a pie crust?”
His eyebrows dart to his hairline and I laugh. “I will take that as a no. Will you slice the veggies up while I do the crust? Nice and thin. Cut length-wise.” Liam moves to the cutting board and grabs a sweet potato.
“I’m a meat and potato kinda guy, generally speaking.” He slices a sweet potato in half.
“I promise this will suit you. Do you trust me?” I ask and sneak a look at him while brushing the pie crust with butter.
“I do. What’s not to trust?” His answer makes my stomach knot but I do not know why exactly. I slide the crust into the oven and look to him.
“What do you want from me?” I ask. It is a question that has weighed on my mind often recently.
“Honestly, I want all the beautiful parts of you and all the ugly parts, too.” I suck in a breath. Surely he can’t mean all the ugly parts. There are some things that are better left unsaid. Things that are meant to be carried in solitude. I cannot tell him those things unless he is worthy. And how can I know that unless I know his darkest desires?
“Tell me your fantasy,” I say.
“Fantasy?” he asks, looking at me across the island.
I nod and dig deep for some bravery. “Your darkest desire. Something you can’t tell just anyone,” I say.
“It isn’t a fantasy. It’s my reality. It is what I need, Nora,” he says, whi
le cutting vegetables.
I swallow thickly and nod. “Okay. Tell me that.”
“It isn’t typical. It isn’t for everyone.” He stops chopping. His eyes capture mine, unsure.
I want to tell him that I am not for everyone, but instead I say, “I won’t laugh or judge. In fact, if it is as sordid as you are making it out to be, I will tell you my fantasy.”
Liam’s jade eyes hold mine captive for long moments. I cannot breathe when he pins me with those eyes. I cannot move. It is as if one look from him paralyzes me. Stops time.
“I need pain. I like to be restrained and hurt. I like whips, Nora. I like nails dug into my flesh.” His eyelashes are thick and black as he stares at me. The oven beeps and I jump. I pull the warmed crust from the oven and set it on the stovetop.
“Where do you find women who are willing to do that?” I ask, my back to him.
“I belong to a gentleman’s club. There are certain perks to the membership. I haven’t been successful in finding a long term relationship where my partner is willing to go as far as I need.” I clear my throat and shift my weight. “You’re judging me.”
“I’m not.” I shake my head. “I’m surprised, but I am not passing judgment.
Liam continues to slice the vegetables. “And you, Nora? What do you crave?”
I swear I catch a slight grin on his face but it is gone before I can be certain. I debate telling him anything other than the truth, but when he clears his throat and looks at me, earnest and curious, I decide it is time to at least try to put my true self out for him to see.
“I want to be held captive and ... forced.” I dip my head and look away.
“Do not be ashamed of your needs,” he says. He moves to my side. “Look at me, Nora. Tell me all of it.”
“I want it to be a surprise. Not choreographed. I don’t want to know it is coming. That makes finding a man ... difficult. I want someone to commit to the role. To make me believe it. That I am their captive. That it is authentic. That I don’t hold the power. Pain and pleasure have become synonymous to me in the bedroom since ... since Holden.”
