by Karen Gordon
When she sees all I’ve done inside she softens. “Oh, Vivey, you did so much.” She takes in all the changes. “You moved the TV for me, and the flowers, look at the flowers. You shouldn’t have.”
I start to set up her personal items and medical supplies from the care facility. I line pill bottles up on the kitchen table and make a place for her cell phone and charger on her bedside table.
Sebastian lets me know that he has a few things he needs to take care of in town and that he’ll be back to pick me up in a few hours. He gives me a quick kiss before heading out the door. Carla watches us but waits until he’s gone to ask, “So what’s up with you two? Still too complicated?”
I’d forgotten what a mental mess I was the last time I saw her after my first night with Sebastian. I smile at the memory. At least I have a better idea of what I’m getting into this time. Or, I think I do… I give her an obtuse answer. “I’m still complicated.”
“Are you now? You’ve always been one of the most rock-steady people I know. What do you mean?” She gets settled in her new chair and I dote on her so I don’t have to answer. As I pass by she tugs on my shirt and says. “Vivey, sit down and talk to me. I’ve missed you. I want to live through you and hear about your love life with that handsome man.”
I sit on the end of the hospital bed and breathe a deep sigh. How much do I want to tell her? “Ok, let me ask you this, how many men is too many?”
She laughs and rubs her hands together, ready for a good story from me. “How many are we talkin about?”
“Three?”
“You’re not sure?” I’ve really piqued her interest now.
“It’s three right now but with the way things are going…” I pick at a thread on a blanket. “So, how many is too many?”
She shrugs. “I’ve always been a one-man woman myself. I can’t say that I know.”
“I don’t think I am a one-man woman, at least not right now.”
She agrees. “This probably isn’t a good time for you to settle down. You’ve got time, you’re still young. Does Sebastian know, about the others?”
“Yeah, he does. He’s not a one-woman man either.”
“Oh.” She processes this. “You’re right, it is complicated.”
Chapter Eleven
Sebastian picks me up at Carla’s after I heat her dinner and make sure she is comfortable. Her evening dose of pain meds make her drowsy so I turn off the lights but leave the TV on with the volume low. She mumbles another thank you and that she loves me before I go.
His SUV is full of supplies all stacked under a tarp. It makes me very nervous. I look it over trying to guess what it all is by shapes. “Why does something tell me aren’t going to Marg’s B&B or the Renaissance hotel?”
All he says is, “Nope,” as we start driving in the opposite direction of the city.
“Can I ask where we are going?”
He looks over at me at a stoplight. “Can you just trust me?”
I’m really clear on this one. There is trust and there is stupid. Going somewhere for kinky sex without having someone else know where you are, is stupid. “Nope. I am going to give the address to Dom. I won’t do this unless she knows where I am and when I’m due back.”
He smiles and concedes that I’m right. “Touche. Good point.” I get my phone out and pull up the texting app. He gives me the address and I type it in and send it to Dom. I then copy it and look it up on my map app.
“Wow, that’s quite a drive.” It’s out in the middle of nowhere but on the edge of a lake. “Is this your cabin?” My voice doesn’t hide how much this remote location stresses me out.
He looks over, surprised at my reaction. “Hey, what’s up?”
“How far is the nearest town?” I need facts.
“About twelve miles as the crow flies, why?”
His answer only irritates me more. I don’t know how the crow flies and what the hell it has to do with this. I blurt out what’s front and center in my mind. “I want to know if anyone can get there in time to save me if you decide to carve me up with a chainsaw.”
He bursts out laughing. “What?” He laughs more before he can talk again. “What the hell movies have you been watching?”
It does sound silly when he puts it that way but I don’t like being in such a remote location when I’m going to be playing a game of vulnerability. He tries to calm me.
“It’s a really beautiful place. I thought you would enjoy it. It’s super peaceful and Tilford’s place is right next door, definitely within shouting distance.”
“Will he be there?” Facts, Sebastian, I need facts.
“I don’t know, probably. This is great fishing weather so I would imagine he will.”
It’s as close to facts as I’m going to get but I do make plans to pay a visit to Dr. Tilford once we get there. I’m still rattled and I hate it that I seem unreasonable so I try to explain. “I know the whole chainsaw thing sounds silly, but that’s the way I’ve always had to think. Without a mom and with my dad working and not around so much, I had to take care of myself. I had to plan for every worst-case scenario, even the ones from silly horror movies.” He reaches over the console and takes my hand.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never thought about going to the cabin as being scary. It’s one of my favorite places to be, and I wanted to share it with you.” He gives my hand a squeeze.
One thing he said really sticks with me. “It must be nice, to not be afraid.” I look over at him. “I can’t imagine how nice it must be to be a big guy.” He questions me with his eyes, unsure where I’m going.
“Women are almost never not afraid. I would love to have a place in this world where I could completely forget about watching my back, checking locks, keeping mace in my purse. It’s a fact of life for us.”
This surprises him. “But you’re so smart and prepared. I would imagine you could think your way out of any situation.”
I laugh at the irony. “If big, strong you wanted to hold me down you easily could. I have to use my brains to stay one step ahead, to try to anticipate every scenario where that might happen so I don’t get myself in that situation. I’m almost always on guard.”
He pulls into a gas station and my anxiety spikes. An unscheduled stop in the middle of this conversation is not what I need right now. He gets out quickly without saying a word and comes around to my side where he opens the door, unhooks my seatbelt and pulls me to him. He’s bear-hugging me to the point I have to force a breath. After a few minutes he finally speaks.
“I hate it that you have to feel that way.” Passionate anger is making his voice thick. “It pisses me off and I want to take it away.” He knows he’s in a fight with something bigger than him, a societal ill that he cannot fix alone. “I wish you could just see this as a fun trip to the lake with me. I wish I could take all that away.” Just knowing how much it bothers him makes me feel better. I let myself relax more into him and he eases up a little on squeezing me. He rubs my back. “That’s what I want, Vivey, that’s what I want for you. I want you to be able to let go and trust me and enjoy yourself. I am a big guy and I’m not afraid. You can trust me to take care of you, even if it’s only for a few days.”
Wow, just wow. I see what he wants to give me now. It feels a lot less like a game and more like a gift. I don’t know what to say, I’m completely blown away. I let myself relax into him for another minute when it occurs to me: “You called me Vivey.” I say it into his neck.
“What?” I’ve skipped off our deep discussion and thrown him off.
“You called me Vivey,” I say, leaning back so I’m sure he can hear me. “I’ve only let three people ever call me Vivey: my dad, my first love, and Carla.”
He studies me. “Sorry, I must have heard Carla call you that. I didn’t know it bothered you.” He pulls away thinking he’s offended me.
I hold on to him. “No. I just…it’s just more familiar, more intimate, than I get with most people. But…it’s ok.” I
hug him really tight. “You can call me Vivey if you want to.”
✈ ✈ ✈
To relax me he lets me connect my phone to his car Bluetooth and pick all the music. He also lets me go through the song list on his phone. We bond over the songs we have in common and I question his taste on the ones we don’t.
“AC/DC? Has this been on here since you were twelve?” He doesn’t take the bait and argue. He only shakes his head and smiles.
We stop for a late dinner at a rough looking roadside bar and grill. After our early conversation I feel free to point out to him that it’s a place I would not pick if I were alone.
He muses, “That seriously sucks because you would miss out on some of the best gumbo I’ve ever had.”
I agree, “Yep, it does suck.”
The gumbo is amazing and so is the cornbread and the slaw. I’m too stuffed for dessert so Sebastian orders a large bowl of bread pudding to go. “For later,” he tells me with a wink. “It’s not as good as Marg’s but we’ll make it work.” I’m flooded with erotic memories of him feeding me bread pudding and wine with my eyes closed. I’m so much less stressed about being alone with him now that I’m actually looking forward to it.
It’s late when we finally drive up the gravel road to his cabin. With only a crescent moon in the sky I can’t see much of anything. I start to get out of the car but Sebastian stops me. “Hold on. I don’t want you tripping on anything.” He scoops me up and carries me to the front porch. As he fiddles with the keys I notice that there’s a really bright flood light in the distance.
“Is that Tilford’s place?” I ask.
He looks over his shoulder. “Yep. You can see it from here and if you shout loud enough, he can hear you. Plus, I have cell service. You probably do too.”
I love all his reassurances and I soften more with each one.
“If you want to get out of bed in the morning you can walk over there and tell him that you are here with me.”
“If?” I question.
We walk into the one-room cabin and he turns on the lights. It’s sparse but nice and solid with exposed wood everywhere. There’s a kitchenette right inside the door and a small table pushed up to a large window looking over the lake on the other side. Directly across from the table, positioned for a great view, is the bed. I smile at how comfy and inviting it looks, even without Sebastian in it.
He catches me smiling. “My plan is to keep you in bed with me for as long as you are here.” He shuts the door behind him so the bugs don’t get in. “I sure as hell didn’t bring you up here to fish.”
Chapter Twelve
Sebastian lights a small gas heater to offset the chill of the early spring night. He leaves me in the cabin as he unloads supplies and our bags from the back seat. Smaller than my apartment, the space is quickly overrun, especially with my mountain of suitcases.
I don’t know what to do.
“Can I help?” His smile says that I’ve got to be kidding.
He sorts through boxes, puts food in the cabinet and fridge while smugly humming “Highway to Hell.” I don’t know if he’s trying to torture me with AC/DC or insinuating that I’m about to be headed in that direction, but I try to not let him show that he’s getting to me. The humming I can actually take; it’s not doing anything that’s really bothering me.
As he empties them he tosses boxes out the back door, opening up space as he does. When the table top is clear he takes my biggest suitcase and opens it up on there. He rifles through my stuff, and I’m so stunned I can’t speak for a few seconds.
Then I find my voice. “What the hell are you doing?”
As he lifts and looks under carefully folded and organized stacks he says. “Looking for your stuff to put in the bathroom.”
I reach up to bat his hands away and he grabs mine. “Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds me. “I’m taking care of all of this. You sit.”
I glare at him. “You can’t go through my stuff.” Then it dawns on me. “Wait, are we playing your game already?”
He shakes his head and shrugs like he’s not one hundred percent sure. “I don’t know, are we?”
I struggle to answer him. I thought he had a plan (you know, like a color-coded time table). When he sees how overwhelmed I am he pulls me in to him and hugs me.
“I want you to trust me.” He says it quietly and slowly like I’m a frightened animal who might make a run for it. I force a deep breath and try to relax into the idea. As strange as it sounds, having sex with me is one thing, but going through my suitcase feels like a whole other level of trust and intimacy.
“So are we doing this all weekend?” I need some parameters.
He’s confused. “What, you trusting me? I hope so.”
I let out a deep sigh. I sound like a crazy woman. Maybe I am.
“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” He asks, his voice still calm and low.
I don’t have an answer because my fears and anxiety can get pretty crazy. I try to make things lighter. “You steal my underwear and put them on and stretch them out. They’re really expensive lace that I got in Italy.”
“Really?” He lets go of me with one arm and rifles around in my bag. “I’d like to see these…on you.” He assures me.
I see a chance to escape his touching-my-stuff torture. “I have a pair on right now.” Maybe I can lure him into some vanilla sex, as he likes to call it.
He sticks one finger in the waistband of my jeans and pulls them away from my stomach so he can look down my pants. “Oh, those do look nice. I think these jeans have to go.”
Hell yes! Now we’re talking (and I’m winning). I strip off my jeans and my tee shirt so he can see the matching sheer bra. He whistles through is teeth.
“Mmmm, you are gorgeous.” I bask in his compliment but notice that he isn’t rushing to touch me. I’m about to move toward him when he says. “Go sit on the bed where I can see you.”
This stops me cold and I stand there stuck, not sure what to do. I want to tear his clothes off and have sex. But I came here to try to trust him and play his kinky game where he has promised me a win/win (which he delivered on before). He waits patiently as I mentally debate. I give him a wary glance before I turn and climb onto the bed and sit in the middle in what I hope is a seductive pose.
✈ ✈ ✈
Touching my stuff was just step one. After putting my toiletries in the bathroom he closes my big suitcase then proceeds to take it…and my hanging bag…and my laptop tote…and my purse back out to the car. It’s hard to hear over my heart pounding as the back hatch closes; then there’s a chirp when Sebastian sets the locks.
I’m breathing hard when I ask. “Why is my stuff locked in your car?”
He casually shrugs. “Kinda figured you wouldn’t need it.” I mentally inventory everything he’s just taken from me. It’s mostly clothes but there’s also my laptop and my wallet and my phone. Right before I hit a full-on panic, he pulls my phone out of his back pocket and puts it on the table where I can see it. He smiles when he sees my relief.
“I won’t need my clothes?” As I say it I’m kind of hoping that it’s true.
He opens a bottle of Jameson and pours some into two cups, adds ice and water then produces lemon wedges from the refrigerator. What can I say, I’m charmed. Not only did he get my whiskey of choice but he has the correct garnish too…and already prepped. He’s wearing me down one thoughtful detail at a time.
He hands me my red plastic cup then goes back to the kitchen for the takeout bread pudding and a spoon. With all his supplies at hand he sits on the bed leaning against the headboard. I get a blatant, approving perusal before he reaches for my hand and pulls me onto his lap.
I’m straddling him. He’s fully dressed (of course). “You still with me?” He asks.
It’s obvious he doesn’t mean physically. I nod because emotionally I’m still hanging in there.
“Good,” He declares as he removes the top from our dessert. The smell of c
innamon and sugar takes me back to our first night in his kitchen, and I breathe easier remembering a definite win for both of us. He feeds me a big scoop from the plastic spoon. It’s good, but not Marg’s. Sebastian takes a bite and gives his review. “I’d give it three, maybe four stars. But then again, I’m spoiled.”
I laugh at his admission. “Yes, you are.”
He feeds me another scoop and asks, “So tell me, Ms. Ramsey, how do I spoil you? You don’t make it easy, you know.”
I nod my agreement as I chew because he’s right. I take a drink then reach for the hem of his shirt and tug upward. “You could spoil me with sex. If I remember right you’re pretty good at that.”
He keeps his arms down so his shirt won’t come up. “But I want more than that and I think you do too.” He pins me with his eyes as he puts the rest of the pudding on the side table. “Vivey, there’s a whole world of exciting options out there that I want to explore, with you.”
He’s making me nervous again. “Like what?” I have visions of whips and pain.
“Like denial, for example. Have you ever tried denying yourself an orgasm?”
I look at him like he’s crackers. “Uh, no. Just getting there isn’t easy for me. I’m not going to go all that way just to skip the fun part.”
“But that’s just it. There’s a lot of fun parts that you are skipping over in your race to get there, and the energy build up when you hold back is incredible.” The way he describes it does sound tempting. “Do you remember make-out sessions in high school when you spent hours kissing and groping, pushing toward something that wasn’t going to happen but still felt so damn good?”
I picture the hottie he must have been in high schoo, and I feel really left out. I shake my head. “Nope. No make out sessions here. Two bouts of horrible sex, one with Gabe my sophomore year and one with Ryan my senior year, then I gave up.”
