by Maya Rossi
“What are you doing here?”
She gives me a tentative smile, crossing her arms across her middle protectively. A flash of white at the top of the stairs, catches my eye. Olivia.
“I wanted to see you,” she says tipping her chin up in a move reminiscent of her daughter.
The thought sours my stomach. “We’ve done well without it for twelve years, I would have thought we’ll last another year.”
Her eyes go darker. “Haven’t you forgiven me? I thought you won’t care.”
“You thought I wouldn’t care if my wife sleeps with my brother?” I ask incredulously.
She wrings her fingers uncomfortably. “You know how you are and--”
“Tell me, how am I that I won’t mind you sleeping with my brother?”
She gives me that look, half exasperated and half indulgent, like it’s my fault. I remember when I walked in on them in bed years ago, and confronted them, she gave me the same look. Every time she’s been wrong, she tries to turn it around rather than apologize, make me look stupid.
“It was just a one-time thing and you know we were together before.” She hits my shoulder lightly. “It’s not like we were rolling in passion or anything. Let it go.”
“I have.”
She brightens. “Soooo?”
“Get out of my house and return to your husband.”
She looks aghast. “it’s not like you to keep grudges. What’s going on Grif?”
“I don’t keep grudges but I’m careful with the company I keep.” A thought strikes me. “Who let you in?”
Lily sniffs, blinking back tears. How different can daughter and mother be? “Peter, said he was here to pick up some things.”
“See yourself out.”
“Am I allowed to see my daughter before I leave? She refuses to pick my calls, do you have anything to do with that?”
I sigh, hanging up my jacket on the mantle. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lily.”
“Mother,” Olivia calls, taking the steps down regally.
She takes my breath away. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to anyone in my life. Throughout the evening, I took more than a thousand discrete glances at Olivia. Maybe not so discrete since Maddie drove off without a goodbye.
Her dress is simple, white and provocative. In any other woman it will be nothing more than a burlap but her curves strain against the material deliciously.
“Mom?”
“Why haven’t you been picking my calls?”
“You want me back home and I’m happy here.”
”It’s not that simple,” Lily sighs loudly, “Richard wants you home--”
“No.”
“Come on, Livvy, don’t be like this. He has an important dinner engagement and needs us all there.”
Olivia walks past her mom to the bar. She serves a tint of my whiskey and passes it over. Lily’s eyes follow the exchange. Unconsciously, she gets a fire going, then place my favorite book and a bottle of water on a stool by the couch.
“You still like your novels,” Lily observes slowly.
“Who does Richard needs to impress this time?” Olivia asks, sitting on the couch facing the fire and crossing her legs leisurely. I move over to join her.
Lily follows, watching us warily.
“I wish you’ll make more attempt with Richard and--”
“Please don’t ask me to call him ‘dad’ again, my father’s dead.”
“Then attend the dinner at least,” Lily pleads, “he says he will leave something for you in his will if you do.”
Olivia scoffs, yawning widely. “All I do with Richard is try, not anymore. I’m happy here. I’m sure Dana can entertain enough for both of us.”
“Think of your future, Livvy,” Lilly begs.”
“I don’t want his money,” Olivia replies, her voice rising. “What will it take to make you understand that?”
“Grif please,” I look up from my glass to Lilly’s pleading face, “talk some sense into her.”
“I trust her to do the right thing,” I say.
As Olivia flashes me a smile of gratitude, Lilly’s eyes narrows. “Where are you coming from?”
“A party, we went together,” Olivia says with an impish smile.
“No, with my date, Maddie.”
“You have a date?”
“had,” I mutter.
“Somehow,” says Olivia.
Lily looks more confused, her brows furrowed in thought, her eyes dark with suspicion. “Is there something I should know?”
“Just that I’m never coming home,” Olivia says, “and don’t push it.”
Five minutes later, we sit on the porch stairs, watching as Lily drives off. Olivia rests her head on my shoulder, letting out a sigh.
“She wants back.”
“Well, the feeling isn’t mutual. I haven’t really given her much thought in years.”
The night breeze plays with her hair, drifting a few strands into my face. I breathe in deeply, savoring the scent of coconut oil and admiring the smooth curve to her shoulders.
“What was Eric like?” she asks softly.
“Big,” I can see him now, standing before me, shielding me from my parents’ wrath like some avenging angel, “smart--”
“Wait,” Olivia tipped her head back to meet my eye, “he was bigger than you?”
I laugh, amused at her anger. “It’s not a competition, I’m bigger, but he had a huge personality.”
“You’re quiet,” she says.
My hands tighten around her, throat closing up tight. “Thank you,” I murmur. This time when her head fall back, I lower my mouth to kiss her softly.
Her lips are soft, lush and warm under my tongue. I tease, dashing forward only to retreat to nibble at the corners of her mouth. She moans, curling her hand over my neck. To catch my breath, I run my lips over her jaw and neck.
Olivia pulls out of my arms and unashamedly tugs her gown up and over her buttocks. My palms land on the round, full globes of her bare buttocks. I squeeze, groaning at the fullness, amazed and privileged to hold her like this.
As she sinks down to my lap, her breasts brush my face, tantalizingly close and temptingly out of reach.
She grinds into my hardness, moaning into my mouth. I catch her nipples between my fingers, rolling and pinching them. Olivia gasps into my mouth, writhing passionately. I kiss her hungrily, wishing I can swallow her whole but torn as I want to take my time because her body is the stuff of dreams. I want the chance to worship her.
I press my face into the rounded curves of her breasts, searching for the nipple like a babe after its mother’s tits. With the star lights bursting behind my eyelids, it takes a full minute to separate reality from dreams.
“Oh, my baby Jesus. Are you mad?”
I scramble to my feet with Olivia in my arms, cradling her protectively as I squint through the wash of headlights to the fast approaching Lily.
Features twisted in fury, she skids to a halt a few feet away, looking from Olivia to me and back again. Her mouth works but no words come out.
Then, “Are you mad? She’s just eighteen years old, Grif and my daughter!”
Olivia struggles against me, eager to be put down, to fight this battle for me. Eric had done the same while he was alive. I don’t want that for Olivia.
“Go inside, I want to talk to Lily alone.”
She frowns, leaning back to see my face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Lily sputters, smoke is practically coming out of her ears. “Livvy! Go pack your things. We’re leaving.”
Olivia rolls her eyes. “You’re leaving mom. You had your chance and blew it.”
“Olivia,” I call sharply, shocked at her words.
“All right, all right, I’m going.”
She’s almost at the door when she stops again. Lily mouth is agape with shock, her eyes wide and filled with hurt. “Livvy,” she whispers.
Olivia bites her lips and I hope it mea
ns she will choose her next words carefully. “I love him, mom. I really, really do.”
“Livvy.”
“I’m sorry.” She tugs at the hem of her gown, looking vulnerable and all of eighteen. “I don’t want things weird between us mother. I know this hurts, but I’m not giving him up. Not ever. Please.”
When the Olivia’s unique scent of coconut fades, Lily springs into action, slapping me hard across the face.
“How long?” she whispers, voice hoarse with tears. “How freaking long?”
“I don’t know,” I say.
She laughs, the sound harsh and terrible. “You don’t know?”
“It didn’t happen once,” I try to explain, “I didn’t see her as a woman. I saw Olivia the little girl who liked pink--”
“Until you turned pedo on her,” she sneers.
Frowning, I struggle to sift through the mess of my emotions. This has always been the hardest for me, explaining how I see things, dealing with my emotions. My parents never understood it. Just Eric and Olivia who seems to understand me without my having to explain.
“That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No. I wish it were that simple.”
Her mouth drops open. “You wish… oh, God.”
“She was your little girl, and then she wasn’t it. She became this matured young lady who understands me, who trusts me, who’s loyal to me no matter how crazy I seem.”
Lily flinches, taking a step back. Her hands drifts up to her throat and stays there. She swallows convulsively. “This is revenge then?”
“No,” I say, frustrated by my inability to reach her, “if she didn’t want me, it will be easier, would have been easier.”
“So, it’s her fault then?”
“No,” I sigh, “it’s my fault. I need her.”
We stare at each other. I don’t need to see her eyes to know they are shiny with unshed tears. The memories separating us, as jagged and ugly as they are, spring up, sharp and enduring like stones.
“I will talk to the sheriff and I’m coming back for my daughter.”
Chapter fifteen
“Is she gone?”
Grif doesn’t answer. He locks up without paying me a glance. As badly as I wanted to hear what mom said to Grif, I chose to respect his decision to handle it. I didn’t deserve this silent treatment. Taking a a place on the couch, I decide to wait him out.
Grif always talks when he’s ready.
Clark padded over to lie at my feet as we both watch Grif lock up.
His tight and high shoulders suggested mom did a number on him. But I don’t want to assume. He bends over to pull a torn book out of the rug — undoubtedly Clark’s handwork, and my eyes drops to his ass. How far would we have gone if mom hadn’t done her about turn?
When he moves to walk past me, I grab his wrist. “Grif, talk to me, please.”
His shoulders drop and he pulls me into his arms with a muttered oath. Bothered by his reaction, fear sidles its way into my heart. I hug him closer, wishing I can tuck him in somewhere no one can reach. I breathe in the smell of man and earth, tears stings my eyes and I blink them back.
“Seeing your mother only reminded me how far apart we are,” he whispers.
“I would have wanted you to see how different we are as individuals and how our relationship can be different from what you had with her.”
He releases me abruptly, running a weary hand down the side of his face. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
His eyes narrows. “Go to bed, Olivia. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“About us?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine.”
I lead the way up the stairs to our rooms, refusing to dwell on his relief when I don’t question him further. As we take the slow walk up, I can feel his gaze glued to my ass. Instead of left to my room, I go right to his.
“Olivia,” he warns, “I told you--”
“I just want to sleep, all right? Sleep.”
He gives a grudging nod. We’re almost like an old couple as we go about our nightly rituals. He is ready before me, sitting up in bed with a black diary-style book where he notes his farm plans for the next day.
I study his long blade of nose and the tattoos on his arms and shoulders. It’s another surprisingly hot thing about him I cannot get over. Grif is already gorgeous but add the tattoos and the barbell stuck to his nipple, he’s transcends ‘gorgeous’ to another plane entirely.
“Who did your tattoos?” I ask.
He shoots a frown at my reflection in the mirror. Putting away my things, I push his t-shirt down and walk to the bed.
“Why?”
I pull back the covers, arching an eyebrow at his suspicious look. His eyes flick down to my breast and back up, and he swallows. Is he nervous?
“Olivia,” he began, practically shifting back to the edge of the bed, “I --”
“Christ, I’m not gonna fucking seduce you. I just want to know, all right?”
When he still looks skeptical, I pull back the covers and slide into bed. He can stew in his suspicions and boil over for all I care. Childishly, I draw the covers over my head, leaving him with nothing.
Unsurprisingly, he takes his sweet time, writing whatever he does in the book. A yawn cracks my jaw and sliding into dreamland when he speaks.
“I got them with Eric, one of his friends was a tattoo artist.” He voices grows soft with the memory. “When school becomes too much, Eric will get us out, get me out and we’ll do whatever we liked.”
“Your parents never found out?”
“They did, said I was jealous of Eric’s good grades,” Grif says incredulously, “as if.” He scoffs. “You can’ be jealous of what you can’t have. But I understood, I was letting my handicap affect my brother.”
“So, you’ve never been out of this town?”
“No.”
“Where did you stay while married to mom?”
He shifts, changing positions as if to physically pull away from the reminder of my mother. “We lived in town, in the family house.”
“We? Do you mean with Eric and his family?” I ask sharply.
He looks away, red scoring his cheekbones. “Yup, Eric wanted me to feel safe and I well… it seemed like a good idea at the time. He made so much sacrifices for me.”
Thank God I was still a baby living with my father when all this went down. I yawn, loudly. “It was his choice to make, Grif. He did because he wanted to, because he loved you. You didn’t force him.” I waited to see if he’ll say more but he remained quiet. “So, did that happen a lot?”
“What?”
“The school becoming too much thing?”
“Yeah,” he says gruffly, “I don’t do well with crowds or new places. It…. it stresses me out, somehow.”
“And you got lovely tattoos and a nipple piercing out of it. Damn, sucks to be you.”
Grif gives a surprised laugh, reaching over to switch off the bedside lap. For that second, with his hands stretched out over me, I’m almost in his arms. I sigh in longing. A second later, I feel him press a kiss to my hair.
I tumble into dreamland with a smile on my face.
It’s huge, hard and hot against my ass. One second I’m asleep and in the next, my eyes fly wide open. I blink taking stock of my surrounding. It’s warm, almost hot with Grif’s front glued to my back and his arms tight around my waist.
He moves, the hard length of him sliding up and down my crack. Grif’s rutting against me. I stop breathing when he moves again, them my breathing kicks up, loud in the silent room.
Behind me, Grif stiffens. I don’t give him time to back off. I kick off the covers and slide my pants down.
Disoriented, Grif stares at me. “What are you doing?”
Without turning around, I reach behind me and tug his boxers down. I give a shocked gasp of pleasure when he pulls me against his heated skin with a hand on my waist. When my bare ass makes contact with his penis, I ha
ve to close my eyes against the pleasure of it.
Grif falters and stops moving. When I think he’s about to back off, he groans loudly, turning me to lie on my stomach. He mauls the back of my neck and shoulders with kisses and bites. His hands cup the globes of my ass and he pulls both cheeks apart.
He’s panting, harsh and loud like a marathon runner, staring at darkest part of me. Faintly embarrassed, I shift my hips, and he slides into the space he created.
Grif cries out and snaps his hips back and forth with barely restrained violence. At every pass, his hot length pushes past my anus to hidden vee of my pussy lips. Wet heat pools at the heart of me, I clench my fists into the mattress, bite down hard on the sheet as I come.
A moment later, his come floods my ass. It is hot and copious and dirty. It sends fresh aftershocks through my body. “Oh, god.”
Chapter sixteen
“Things are great with Livvy I take it,” Rick says, taking a sip of his beer.
I jerk, hot color flooding my cheeks. “What are you talking about?”
He points at my phone with his beer bottle. “You’ve either suddenly developed a love for technology and the internet or its something.”
“It’s nothing,” I mutter. We’ve been had at work all day harvesting corn and getting tomorrow’s orders ready. As I watch, Rick pulls up his fingers, studying them like a lady and I laugh. “You only need to bat your eyelashes and we’re good.”