* * *
A week later, Liv sat in the bride-to-be’s living room in a cozy town house in the West Loop and waited for the giggling fit to subside. Sarah, the petite, slim bride, was holding a giant rotating vibrator. Most of the time, it was bought for gag-gift value only, although Liv didn’t judge people who wanted it for themselves. She’d learned a long time ago that what people did in their bedrooms was nobody’s business but theirs.
She always started with the most outrageous to get the giggling fits out of the way, before she settled into serious, hard-sell mode. She picked up her favorite egg, a new one in the package, and held it up for all to see. She took it out and passed it around to the party, to let them feel the weight of it and the subtle vibrations.
“This is much better,” Jill said as she held the pink egg in her hand. “Does it come in other colors?”
Liv didn’t hear the question. She was too busy thinking about what Porter had done with the gold one. She shuddered, remembering his hands on her, trailing the egg down the middle of her stomach, across her belly button, and ever farther down. Porter had the best instincts. Some guys felt the needed to jam everything a little too hard against her, but he’d been teasing, subtle, barely touching her, making her arch her back in want of more.
“Hello?” Jill asked again, waving the egg in front of Liv. “Does this come in other colors?”
“Oh? What? Yes, I’m sorry. Yes, it does. Silver, white, pink and...blue.” Liv tried to refocus on the party. She needed to stop daydreaming about Porter and get back to business. He’d been out of town this week, but he’d called nearly every day. Liv had gotten used to hearing from him, the sound of his laugh on the phone. His flight had been scheduled to get in this afternoon, but bad weather in the Northeast had led to extensive delays. He’d forgotten to charge his phone the night before in the hotel , so the last message she’d gotten from him was hours ago, warning her his phone was dying.
She itched to see him, but she’d scheduled this party weeks ago, and he’d promised they’d get together Sunday. She found herself nearly tingling with excitement in all the right places. She’d missed his touch, was eager to get with him again, to find out if their explosive connection could be repeated.
Not that she ought to be thinking about Porter and repeats. This wasn’t even a relationship. It was a non-relationship. Nothing about her and Porter would ever be long term, she told herself sternly. It would only be a matter of time before he got bored, like the others.
Still, her thoughts kept creeping back to the night they’d shared. Porter had shown her quite a few refined talents in his bedroom. She wondered if she’d seen all his tricks, or not.... Her phone rang. She jumped, instantly thinking it might be Porter calling. Normally, she put her phone on silent during parties, but this time she’d forgotten.
“I’m sorry. Let me just turn that off,” she said as she grabbed the phone from her bag. Her mother was calling. At ten-thirty on a Saturday night? She felt a sudden gnawing worry: Was everything okay? What if her dad—not exactly young anymore—had had a heart attack? “Oh, I... Let me get this. I’ll be right back.”
“Hello?” Liv answered as she made a beeline for the kitchen, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. “Pour Some Sugar on Me” played obnoxiously in the background. She prayed her mother couldn’t hear.
“Where are you?” Her mother sounded annoyed.
“Uh...nowhere...uh...a party. Is everything okay?”
“A party? Where?” Liv couldn’t even believe her mother. She was an adult. It’s not as though she was in high school, or even college anymore. But this was her tiger mom, never off the clock.
“It’s a bachelorette party, Mom. Now, what’s wrong? Is Dad okay?”
“What? Your dad is fine! He’s here with me. We just finished dinner in your neighborhood. We were going to stop by and say hello.”
More like check up on me, Liv thought. It wouldn’t have been the first time her parents “dropped by” on a Saturday night, just to see what she was up to. The visits always seemed to happen when Liv had a crush on someone, too. There’d been more than one close call at her own apartment. It’s like her mother had a sixth sense about when Liv was having sex.
“Mom, I’m at a party. I just saw you yesterday.”
“A mother can’t want to see her daughter every day? Ai-yee, Olivia. Leave the party. You’ve been there long enough. It’s too late for you to be out.”
“Really? It’s ten-thirty.”
Liv felt her temper rising: this was her mother to a T, always thinking she knew best for Liv, no matter the case.
“How much was this one again?” Sarah was standing near the kitchen door, holding up the egg vibrator.
Liv cupped the receiver, but wasn’t sure her mother had heard or not. She held up a finger. One second, she mouthed, followed by sorry.
“Who was that?” Her mother was on high-alert mode now.
“No one you know,” Liv said. And it’s not any of your business, anyway, Liv thought, but didn’t say.
“Was that Jordan?” Liv heard sounds of her mother getting into a car and her dad starting the engine.
“No, Mom. I need to go. You and Dad go home. I’ll try to drop by tomorrow.”
“Where is the party? We could drop by and pick you up—give you a ride home.”
Not a chance, Liv thought. “No, Mom. You and Dad go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“We are right here,” her mother said. “And you left your jacket at our house. Won’t take a minute to drop it off. And I can say hello to Jordan.”
“Mom! She’s probably not even home.” Although technically she had been there when Liv left, wearing flannel pajamas and declaring it a “hibernation” Saturday, which usually meant she ordered pizza and watched Wes Anderson movies. Jordan had been playing gigs for the past six weekends in a row and vowed she needed a stay-in. Although that rarely materialized with Jordan—some of her bandmates or other friends would no doubt have her out and clubbing sometime in the night.
“Then I’ll leave the jacket on the stairs,” her mom said and hung up.
Liv blew out a frustrated breath. Her mother never took no for an answer for anything. Oh, well. Let her go ring the buzzer of an empty apartment. What did Liv care?
Liv went back to the party and sold several more toys. The bride-to-be had turned up the music, and several guests had broken out in dance. She would have to wrap up soon, before it became a full-fledged bachelorette party. Besides, she’d already made quite a lot on the evening. Enough to cover the rest of her bills for the month, and maybe even a little left over for a treat such as new shoes.
Her phone dinged with an incoming message. She grabbed it and saw it was from Jordan. Great, Liv thought, her parents were torturing her roommate. She’d have to buy Jordan groceries for the rest of the month to make up for it. So long, shopping spree.
She clicked on Jordan’s message:
Porter’s here with his handsome on. Says he’s going to wait for you.
Liv’s stomach nearly jumped out of her body. Porter was there? He’d made it home! And she couldn’t wait to see him.... But her parents were probably on the way! Jordan would let them in and...chaos, total chaos would ensue.
My parents are coming! You have to tell him to go!
Liv waited, nearly holding her breath, for Jordan’s response.
Oops—too late. They’re here.
Liv felt hot and cold all at once. Porter and her parents in her apartment at the same time? How in the world would she even begin to explain that? Would Porter feel the need to tell them everything? He’d been so all about honesty, there was no telling. He certainly wasn’t afraid of her father finding out, either, and without her there to mitigate, it could be disastrous.
“Sarah?” she called to the bride. “Sarah, I
hate to do this to you, but I’ve got to wrap up early. I’ve got a...” She struggled to find the right excuse. “A family emergency.”
Chapter Nine
Liv jumped out of the cab almost before it had stopped moving. She’d nearly tossed cash at the driver, hardly caring about change, as she ran to her front door. She wheeled her awkward bag up the stairs to her walk-up, pushing through the front door out of breath. She’d left her suitcase on the landing, and she stood panting in her own foyer.
Her parents, holding coffee mugs, glanced up in surprise. Jordan, still in her flannel PJs, put up both hands as if to say, calm down.
“I got your parents some tea. They just returned your jacket.” Jordan held up Liv’s trench coat. “You might want to go put it in your closet.” She held out the jacket and gave Liv a meaningful arch of her eyebrow.
“Right, uh...I’ll be just a second.” Liv skidded across the living room and ducked into her bedroom, closing the door shut behind her. No sign of Porter anywhere. The room was empty. She opened the closet, door, however, and found out just exactly what Jordan had been talking about. There, squeezed among her dresses and her shirts, stood Porter, his hair askew, but everything else looking good: his crisp blue oxford tucked neatly into his dark khakis, his expensive loafers shiny and new. Jordan must’ve shoved him in here before opening the door to her parents.
Before she could say a word, he grabbed her and pulled her into the closet, laying an enormous kiss on her. It instantly went deeper as he pushed her mouth open, exploring her tongue with his. She felt her body respond as if he’d flipped a switch. She pressed herself into him fully, feeling his taut, flat abs. She wanted to yank his shirt straight off, popping buttons if she had to. A second later, she realized it was impossible: her parents were standing in the living room. She pulled herself away.
“Can’t...” she whispered. When he tried to speak, she put a finger over his mouth. “Stay here,” she said in a voice so low, she was certain it didn’t carry. Even as he tried to protest, she shut the door on him.
She hurried back in the living room, not even thinking about what she was wearing: her standard sex toy party fare. This time, a black jumpsuit cinched at the waist and her knee-high stiletto boots. She had her shirt unbuttoned down to almost her bra.
Her mother, seeing her neckline, frowned and put her cup down. She walked over and started buttoning Liv’s buttons.
“Mom, please.” Liv pulled away from her.
“Did you really go out like that?” Her mom frowned, giving her the same disapproving look she’d gotten as a teenager almost every weekend. Liv’s father sat on the couch, quietly sipping tea and trying to stay out of it. He’d seen enough mother-daughter fights to last him a lifetime. Still, Liv found it a bit annoying. He always was silent when her mother dug into her for no good reason. There were times when Liv thought her father was just as scared of her mother as she’d been as kid.
“Mom, I’m an adult.”
“You’re still my daughter,” her mother said, frowning. “You know what dressing like this says to boys? And you have too much makeup on. Ai-yee.” Her mother pulled out a tissue from her purse and licked an edge, as if she planned to wipe her face like she was a toddler with apple sauce crayon on her.
“Mom—stop!” Liv deflected the tissue.
Jordan hid a smile, turning her back on the scene and heading back into the kitchen.
Her mother just made a tsking sound and gave her cheek a pinch, showing what she thought of that little burst of independence. Liv only hoped that Porter couldn’t hear any of this. She’d die of embarrassment.
Her dad stretched and yawned. “Come on, Lian. It’s time for us to get home. It’s late.”
Liv sent a grateful smile to her father, who was already putting on his jacket.
“Yes, Olivia should get her beauty rest. Now, Olivia, make sure you wash your face before you go to sleep,” her mother cautioned, as she, too, slipped into her jacket. “You know how you break out if you don’t.”
Liv just sighed. Would it always be this way? Her parents babying her? Her mother refusing to believe she could take care of herself?
As soon as her parents were out the door, Jordan shoved Liv. “You owe me at least a week’s worth of groceries, maybe more.”
All Liv could do was nod as she hurried back into her room to check on Porter. When she opened the closet door, he was standing there, arms crossed, looking none too happy.
“Why did you shut me in here? I thought you were going to let me out!”
Liv hesitated. How could he think that? She couldn’t just let him roam free. Her parents had been in the next room! If he’d come out, she’d have to tell them what he was doing there. They would’ve guessed the worst, and it would’ve been a disaster.
“But, my parents...” Liv struggled to explain.
“The closet? Really? Is this where you hid all your boyfriends when you were fourteen?” Porter wasn’t entirely kidding. Liv could tell by the strained look on his face, and the fact that he didn’t pounce on her the second she opened the door.
“I’m sorry, Porter... My parents...”
“It’s not your parents that I’m worried about,” Porter said, implying that she was the problem.
“Did you hear any of what they said?” In Liv’s mind, it was proof enough of what she was dealing with: parents who refuse to see their daughter as an authentic adult, someone who could take care of herself.
“I heard some,” Porter said. He stalked past Liv, out of the closet, and sat on her bed, where he leaned over to tie a shoelace. “You should’ve just come clean. I would’ve come out and talked to your dad.”
“You couldn’t.”
“Why not? We’re adults, and it’s not like we were naked or anything. Having me over—fully clothed, with your roommate with us—what would they do to you? Really?” Porter yanked hard on his shoelace, completing the knot.
“Mom would have a fit—me having boys in my place. You heard how she was.”
“So what if she did?”
“Well...” Liv tried to put into words the headache it would cause her: the endless rounds of phone calls, the fights, the relentless dogged determination of her mother to make sure she knew just how wrong she was. Mom didn’t believe in cold shoulders. She believed in letting you have it with all she had.
“Liv, if you want to be treated like a grown woman, you have to act like one.” Porter sat up, clasping his hands in his lap.
“I do act like one.” Liv was beginning to take offense now. Was he calling her immature?
“If your parents won’t see you as an adult, it’s up to you to make them. Unless you’re ashamed of me.” Porter spread his hands, to show he really didn’t know the answer to that.
“No, of course not...”
“You did hide me in the closet. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want this to go anywhere.”
Liv felt dizzy. They’d had one amazing night, and he was bringing them dangerously close to a relationship talk. Was he serious? Did he want this to be...something? She felt as if she was losing her balance. She hadn’t honestly considered it would be anything, and yet a part of her felt excited about the prospect. Could they really be a couple?
If she were honest, she’d never brought a boy around to meet her parents, not since high school, anyway. Her mother and father had picked them apart, making her feel that they’d never approve of any guy. In college, she was too busy trying to keep the fact that she was having sex a secret to bring around her then-boyfriend, so she didn’t really know how they’d react. She just assumed they’d go negative.
Porter watched the emotions play out on her face, but when she didn’t answer him, he stood up and brushed off his pants. “Okay, then, I guess I have my answer. I’ll go then.” He moved toward her door, and
Liv was struck with a sudden panic. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not like this.
“Wait,” she said, moving in front of him, putting her hands on his fit chest. “Don’t go.”
“Do you want to shove me back in your closet again?”
“No, I don’t.” Liv shook her head. She rubbed her hand across his chest, almost unable to help herself. The muscles there rippled beneath her touch and he took in a sharp breath. “I want you to stay.”
“You do?” Porter searched Liv’s eyes as her hands wandered beneath his sweater, feeling his smooth, taut skin beneath.
“I do.”
Porter leaned down and kissed Liv, slowly at first. She arched up on her tiptoes, meeting his tongue with hers. She felt a zing through her, straight to her toes, as Porter pulled her near, his hands gripping the small of her back. He walked her backward and they bounced together down on her bed. She straddled him, feeling him grow through his pants, relishing the effect she had on him. The bulge made her feel all warm and needy as she moved against it, her desire growing with every flick of her hips. She wanted to feel him inside her again, feel that delicious fullness. He rolled her over and suddenly he was on top, his weight against her chest. He pulled back then, panting, his eyes searching hers. Liv felt need wash over her: she wanted him, and she wanted him now. She couldn’t wait a second longer.
“You’re going to tell them about us, right?” Porter said, eyes on hers. “I don’t mean tonight or tomorrow, but soon.”
Liv nodded, murmuring “yes” as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. He dipped his head down as her fingers went to his fly. She wanted to stop talking about her family. In fact, she wanted to stop talking altogether. She wanted him naked, now. Porter obliged, wiggling out of his pants. Then his hands roamed up the side of her bare legs, pushing up her skirt. With a hard yank, her underwear was gone, down by her ankles, and she kicked the lacy black pair to the floor. She reached for a glow-in-the dark condom, one of many she kept in the drawer by her bed. She had it open in seconds, and was carefully rolling it on him as he trailed kisses down her neck. Liv felt as though she was losing track of what she was doing, wasn’t even sure if she could finish the task before Porter had thrust hard, pushing into her. She felt as if she would come right then, and shivered at the pleasure of his thickness. He drove deeper, and Liv felt herself unwinding as the first orgasm hit, her muscles clenching as powerful waves of pleasure rolled through her.
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