Vivian's List (Vol. 1)

by Lovell, Haleigh

  I’d kept on denying it but it only stoked his anger.

  “Go ahead and fuck around!” he yelled. “You’re so Goddamn frigid in bed you probably don’t even enjoy it!”

  I’d immediately disconnected the call before he could say any more.

  Now I kept on hearing that word.

  Frigid.

  I sat heavily down at the kitchen table, gripping a pen and frowning in concentration.

  The new Vivian was not frigid. The new Vivian took charge of her sex life.

  Right. With a firm and decisive nod, I flipped open the yellow notepad and stared at the blank page. After a frozen moment, I put pen to paper.

  Vivian’s List:

  Masturbate in front of a mirror

  Have a one-night stand

  Have sex in a public place

  Have sex in the car

  Have sex in the bathtub/ shower

  Have sex in a hot tub/ swimming pool.

  Have sex in the kitchen

  I paused a moment, chewing on my bottom lip. Then I added this to my list:

  Experience the Big O

  How pathetic. I’d never even experienced an orgasm. Not once.

  Oh, I’ve read those articles in Cosmo. The ones that tell you how to have multiple orgasms, blended orgasms, spontaneous orgasms, megagasms, microgasms … and here, I’d never even experienced one measly orgasm.

  Brody was the first and only guy I’d ever slept with, and sex with him was always sort of ... mechanical.

  When my gaze drifted back to the yellow notepad, the first item on my list: Masturbate in front of a mirror was staring back at me.

  Before my mind could even register what my body intended to do, I rose from the chair and padded to my bedroom.

  I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling closet mirrors.

  Gripping the hem of my tank top, I dragged it over my torso and cast it aside.

  Then I slipped out of my gym shorts, letting it fall to the floor in a discarded heap.

  Cool air whispered over my skin as I stood in front of the mirror in my bra and panties.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I reached behind for the clasp on my bra, flicked it open, and my breasts spilled out of their confines.

  Slowly, I lifted my eyes to the image in the mirror and cupped my breasts, tentatively, feeling their weight in my hands. I’d always felt self-conscious about my large breasts. They felt far too big for my slight frame.

  Embarrassed, but unable to stop myself, I ran my fingertips around the circumference of each breast, my pale skin a stark contrast to my red-painted nails.

  With the pad of my thumbs, I began stroking my nipples, letting out a soft sigh as they puckered to tight buds beneath my touch.

  Even when they were taut, my nipples appeared somewhat swollen and engorged. Like they had been fondled, and teased for hours on end.

  But they had never been fondled or teased. Not ever.

  Brody never wasted any time on foreplay. It took next to nothing to sexually arouse him, and once he was aroused, he’d climb on top of me, relieve himself and go right to sleep.

  I pushed Brody from my mind, my hands exploring, shaping the rounded curve of each breast, caressing my swollen nipples with circular strokes.

  Unthinking, I arched my back as my nipples strained against my ministrations, just longing to be suckled.

  Could I? I wondered. Suck them?

  A burning heat rose to my cheeks at the very thought. Being that I was a double D, I didn’t think it would be impossible, or even difficult.

  As I closed my eyes, I tried to imagine his lips on my breasts.

  But it wasn’t Brody’s lips that flashed in my mind. It was Liam’s.

  And my body trembled from the memory of his warm lips on mine. I imagined him kissing my breasts like he was kissing my mouth. Sensually. Erotically. Thoroughly. Endlessly.

  With that image still playing in my mind, I lifted my left breast and lowered my head. Slowly, I ran my tongue over the crest of my nipple.

  Heat gathered between my thighs, and warmth spread through my limbs.

  As if by their own will, my other hand drifted downward, slipping inside my panties.

  They were soaking wet. Moisture coated my fingertips as I slid through my wetness, tracing the slick cleft of my sex.

  Lost in the inexorable sensations, I flicked my tongue over the distended tip of my nipple as I worked my fingers between my dampened folds.

  Abruptly, my eyes snapped open at the sound of heavy breathing.

  I lifted my gaze, staring at the mirror like a deer caught in the headlights.

  Liam’s reflection was staring back at me.

  My bedroom door was slightly ajar and I had no idea how long he had been standing there. But from the raw desire I saw in his eyes, probably long enough.

  Paralyzed, I couldn’t react.

  Froze in place, I stared at his reflection, feeling a scorching blush rising on my neck and throat.

  One hand was still cupping my breast, and the other shoved deep inside my panties.

  Long seconds passed before my body started cooperating with my brain.

  I dropped my arm, letting it fall loosely to my side and my breast jiggled as it bounced against my chest.

  Overcome by an unaccountable sense of shame, I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.

  “Sorry.” Liam spoke first. “I came to tell you I got us some lunch. I knocked on the door,” he rushed to explain, “then realized it was open. I should have left.”

  Our gazes locked in the mirror. The yearning in his eyes shook me to the core.

  Heat prickled along my skin and my nipples contracted to tight, prominent peaks.

  I was certain he noticed.

  Liam repeated, “I’m sorry.”

  I saw his throat work as he swallowed hard, then he turned sharply and shut the door behind him.

  Chapter Eight

  Liam

  Try as I might, I couldn’t get those images out of my mind. They were seared into my memory’s soul like beautiful vignettes.

  Vivian’s hand catching the underside of one breast, her tongue flicking across the coral-pink nipple.

  Vivian’s supple breast falling free, bouncing erotically.

  Vivian’s hand buried inside her panties, her fingers moving against the diamond shaped veil of sheer satin as she pleasured herself.

  My mouth went bone dry. With a sharp exhale, I swallowed the sawdust in my throat and headed for the kitchen.

  What I needed right now was a drink. Or two. Or three.

  I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table. Reclining in the chair, I cracked the tab and took a deep swig, feeling it trickle down the cold pit in my stomach.

  That was when my gaze landed on the yellow notepad sitting on the table.

  My eyes did a quick scan of the page.

  “Oh, hell no!” I stood abruptly, backing away from it like it was some sort of a parcel bomb.

  I ran a shaking hand through my hair and began to pace the room, restless and agitated.

  Jesus would weep. Julian would go ape-shit if he caught wind of this.

  What the hell was Vivian thinking?

  I walked back to the kitchen table, picked up the notepad and flopped down on the living room sofa. “Vivian!” I called.

  No answer.

  What was she doing? Was she still touching herself in front of the mirror?

  I groaned inwardly and felt my cock strain painfully against the zipper of my jeans. “Vivian,” I called again.

  Her bedroom door creaked open, and she popped her head around the door. “Yeah?” she asked, a hint of wariness in her voice.

  I sat rigidly on the sofa, my body straining to maintain the illusion of calm. “Can you come out here for a sec? We need to have a talk. A serious talk.”

  “Uh, okay.” The wariness in her voice hadn’t changed. Vivian shut the door and emerged minutes later in a tank top and gym shor
ts, and joined me on the sofa.

  She didn’t look much older than sixteen as she sat just inches away from me.

  Though I stared at her, she refused to look up and meet my eyes.

  In the awkward silence, she hugged her knees to herself and seemed to take an inordinate amount of interest in her painted toenails.

  “What do you want to talk about?” she said at last.

  I held up the incriminating notepad. “Can you please explain this?”

  “No!” A bright flush stained her cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to see that. No one was!”

  “I didn’t mean to.” I tried to keep my voice level. Viv was right. I wasn’t supposed to see the list, and I wasn’t supposed to be watching her in her bedroom like some perverted voyeur, and yet I failed on both counts. “But it’s also a good thing I did.”

  She shook her head, her hair sweeping across her shoulders.

  “Viv.” I swallowed. “You don’t need to do everything on this list.”

  “I do …” Her voice was so faint I could barely hear her.

  A cold, leaden weight settled in my gut. I looked at the list and read aloud, “Have sex in a hot tub.” I paused. “A hot tub? Don’t you know a hot tub’s a giant petri dish for bacteria! And what’s this supposed to mean,” I demanded, jabbing the notepad with my index finger. “Experience a one-night stand? Have you heard of STDs?”

  She lowered her gaze and stared at the hardwood floor. “I was planning on using protection.”

  “But Viv,” I implored, willing her to raise her eyes. “It’s not safe to be sleeping around with some random stranger.”

  “I’ll be careful.” She bit down on her lower lip, her cheeks flushing, her eyes refusing to meet mine. “I’ll take precautions.”

  I tasted a sharp metallic taste in my mouth, mildly sickened at the thought of Vivian in bed with some random guy.

  I wasn’t jealous, I told myself. I was just being protective.

  Trying to compose myself, I took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, but the action did nothing to calm me. “Viv, you’re not a one-night stand kind of girl. You’re a relationship girl.”

  There was a long, heavy moment of silence.

  “What if I don’t sleep with some random guy?” she said suddenly.

  Her question caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “What if I have sex with someone I know.”

  “Like who?” I asked, ignoring the strain in my voice.

  When she lifted her gaze, her piercing blue eyes were fixed on mine. “You.”

  Her words struck all the air from my lungs. I blinked. “Me?”

  She made a great show of looking around the empty room. “You have someone else in mind? Yes, you. You ninny.”

  I was too stunned to speak. I felt as if I had just landed a kick in my gut.

  When I finally found my voice, I muttered, “No.” I exhaled sharply, then repeated myself, “No. If you want my opinion—”

  “I don’t,” Vivian cut in. “I just want to know if you’ll do it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Fine, then.” She pressed her lips together, a thin line of defiance. “I’ll find someone else.”

  Her words hurt, a sudden sharp ache that took me by surprise. “No, you won’t!” I said tersely.

  She cast me an apprehensive, frowning look. “So you’ll do it?”

  “For Christ’s sake, Viv!” I shoved a hand through my hair. “Are you joking around here?”

  She didn’t respond. But I saw her flushed cheeks, her resolute eyes and I already had the answer to my question.

  “I’ve known you for years, Liam. We’ve grown up together, we’ve slept on the same bunk bed. Hell, I’ve already seen you naked in a swimming pool, so what’s the big deal?”

  “I was eight, Viv,” I stated flatly. “You were five and we were splashing around in a kiddie pool.”

  “Liam!” She expelled a fretful sigh. “What I’m trying to say is I trust you. When I’m with you, I feel … safe. And I know this is a lot to ask, but there’s no one else I’d feel safer having sex with.”

  I frowned, telling myself that the tightening in my groin was just an inappropriate reaction to Vivian’s proposal. I firmed my resolve by reminding myself that she was Julian’s little sister.

  “The answer is still no.” I kept my voice firm. “I’m not the right guy for this, Viv.”

  “But,” she persisted, “you don’t have to be Mr. Right, I just need you to be Mr. Right Now.”

  A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I pushed off the sofa and began pacing again. I paced back and forth so many times I must have worn a groove in the oak floors. “Are you out of your mind, Viv?”

  “Why not?” She looked at me with sudden anxiety. “Is the idea of sleeping with me so … so repulsive to you? Is it because you think I’m frigid, too?”

  “No,” I said at once. “No,” I said again with even more conviction. “That’s not it at all.”

  I started to speak again when I noticed the stooped curve of her shoulders.

  Sensing her pain and distress, I felt my own self-reproach.

  This probably wasn’t easy for Viv. And here I was, making her feel even worse about herself. A vise clamped at my heart at the thought that I was doing this to her.

  “Viv.” I softened my tone. “Brody is a fucking douchebag for saying that. And you don’t need to do everything on this list to prove a thing to him.”

  “I want to prove it to myself. Not him. I need to do this for myself, and I need your help.” Her gaze searched my face. “Will you do this for me?”

  As suddenly as I had wanted to discuss her outrageous list, I now wanted nothing more than to close the subject.

  I eased down on the sofa and sank back against the cushions, pressing hard against one temple to alleviate the migraine I felt coming on.

  Vivian was proposing to have sex with me. I swallowed a groan. How the hell did it even come to this?

  The silence between us was thick with tension.

  I found myself glancing around the room, taking in the cracked light fixture, the slight warping of the floorboards, the chipped paint on the fireplace mantel.

  Vivian always kept the house clean. Not just clean, but immaculately clean. But there were signs of wear and neglect.

  The house needed some fixing up, and I intended to start soon.

  “Why aren’t you saying anything?” she asked, her voice catching.

  My headache renewed with double force. “Christ, Viv. I’m actually at a loss for words.” I dragged a hand down my face. “I’m still in shock.”

  A long beat passed before she spoke. “Did you read the whole list?”

  “No,” I said. “But I think I’ve seen enough.”

  “Read it.” She regarded me with a challenge in her eyes. “Read the last item on my list.”

  I paused and studied her. Shadows tinged the fragile skin beneath her eyes and she suddenly looked so tired, and so vulnerable.

  With a deep sigh, I reached for her notepad and cast a swift glance at the bottom of the page.

  Experience the Big O

  “Is it true?” I held her gaze. “That you’ve never had an orgasm?”

  Her nod was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

  “Not even just now?” I cleared my throat. “When you were touching yourself?”

  Her cheeks turned a shiny pink and she inhaled deeply before answering. “No.”

  I delayed my response, giving my thoughts a chance to catch up.

  In the silence, Vivian furrowed her brows and I noted the slight creases in her forehead.

  I wanted so much to smooth her skin and remove her worries.

  “I was thinking about you …” She sighed. Audibly. “When I was touching myself.”

  A mixture of longing and unexpected sadness touched her voice as she said this.

  My heart skipped at her admission and my tongue had plastered itself to
the roof of my mouth. Added to that, I was unable to form a single thought.

  At least not a coherent one.

  Our gazes tangled across the sofa and as we sat staring at each other, something passed between us that I didn’t entirely understand.

  I felt her shift, and her knee lightly brushed against my thigh.

  The warmth in that simple touch went a long way toward melting my resistance.

  In that moment I wondered how her creamy skin would feel against my body when I wrapped those long, gorgeous legs around my waist and made love to her over and over again.

  Finally, I expelled a breath I hadn’t realize I’d been holding. “Do you really want to do this?”

  A nervous tick pulled at her mouth. “I do.”

  I paused to study my hands, then met her gaze full on. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “I don’t have a clue.” A corner of her mouth lifted in amusement. “But that’s the whole point of this list, isn’t it?”

  Unable to answer, I nodded.

  Her eyes were fixed on my face, seemingly awaiting reaction. “So you’ll do it?”

  Instead of the No my mind had been telling me to say, my mouth said, “Yes.”

  A careful yes.

  A hesitant yes.

  But still a yes.

  Even with all the doubts I had gnawing inside me, I couldn’t refuse her.

  Vivian bit down on her lower lip and treated me to an adorable grin. “You did just say yes, didn’t you?”

  “Yep,” I said, popping the p sound. “But this will just be purely about sex. No emotions, okay?” I extended my hand.

  She took my outstretched hand, closing her soft fingers over mine without breaking my gaze. “Deal.”

  After we shook on it, there was a moment of awkward silence. “Can we,” she began tentatively. “Can we …” Her words petered out.

  “Can we what?” I asked.

  “Never mind.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “It was nothing.”

  I sensed more behind the gesture than a casual dismissal. “No really,” I pressed. “Tell me.”

  When I raised my eyebrows in question, she kneaded her hands together. “When we … um, do this …” she hesitated, twisting her fingers. “Can we pretend that we’re really into each other?”