Vivian's List (Vol. 1)

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Vivian's List (Vol. 1) Page 14

by Lovell, Haleigh


  All this while almost 4,500 U.S. troops had been killed in the Iraq war, with an estimated 600,000 Iraqi civilian fatalities. And that wasn’t even counting the severely wounded and displaced.

  As I sat there numbly, barely registering the Casey Anthony trial as it played out on live TV, I wondered if anything I did over in Iraq even mattered at all.

  It was some time before I even realized Vivian was calling my name.

  “Liam,” she said softly, concern etched on her face. “You okay?”

  I nodded before looking away.

  “Is it true?” she asked. “That all U.S troops will be pulled out of Iraq by the end of this year?”

  I nodded again.

  In the silence, she reached out and took my hand. “What’s bothering you?”

  I slid my fingers around hers without thinking. “Nothing.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I shrugged but she seemed to sense more behind the gesture than a casual dismissal for the next words out of her mouth were, “Talk to me.”

  At last I turned to her and gave a tired smile. “Don’t you need to leave for work soon?”

  “I do.” She paused and the little furrow of concentration between her eyebrows deepened. “Why don’t you come with me?”

  “Nah.” I moved a hand to my neck and began a steady massage. “I still need to skim the pool, check the chlorine levels, and make another stop at Home Depot.”

  “C’mon,” she coaxed, giving me an exaggerated look of reproach. “You’ve done enough around the house for the day.”

  I reached for the remote and turned off the TV. “There’s still so much more I need to do.”

  She dismissed my words with a little wave of her hand. “You’ve already mowed the lawn, trimmed the trees, power washed the windows, cleaned the gutters, and I say that’s enough for today.”

  “Well,” I hedged.

  “Don’t you remember what you said to me,” she asked and reminded me anyway. “You said, and I quote: ‘Viv, I’m all yours for the week and you can do with me as you wish.’ ”

  I hauled her onto my lap and inhaled her lovely scent. “Do you know that you’re sexy as hell when you’re riled up and—”

  She lowered her mouth to mine, stealing the laughter from my lips. “So are you coming or not?”

  I laughed and kissed her back lingeringly, sipping at her plump lower lip. “Yes, ma’am,” I rasped. She was draped over my thighs and my cock had nestled into the vee of her legs. My erection grew, swelling with need for her. “Just give me two minutes, okay?”

  I groaned somewhere deep in my chest as my hands roamed over her body, grasping her breasts, her hips, her thighs.

  We had not yet made love on this sofa, and I intended to remedy that oversight.

  For as long as I could remember, Vivian had been rescuing strays. Dogs, cats, birds with broken wings. It used to drive her parents bat shit crazy. And as soon as she’d turned sixteen, she started volunteering at three different animal shelters.

  A commitment she hadn’t broken even to this day.

  Most shelters operate on shoestring budgets, and volunteers are an essential part of their daily operations. So, being an animal lover myself, I decided to lend my services the year before I’d left for Iraq.

  What I discovered was that while most volunteers signed up with the best of intentions, even the most enthusiastic of volunteers sometimes found themselves surprised at some of the tasks, mostly due to the fact that not all of the tasks were nice, clean and ‘fun’.

  Tasks like cleaning the cages and kennels, making them neat and sanitary for the animals, and helping with feeding, watering and grooming.

  Still, I’d stuck with it for six months.

  And here, Viv had stuck with it for six years ... going on sixty.

  “I can’t believe you’re still doing this.” I shook my head in disbelief. “And I can’t believe you’re dragging me along.”

  “Why not?” she asked, tilting her head to one side. “Free dog kisses, wagging tails, puppies wriggling their bodies with excitement at the sight of me, I mean what more can I ask for?”

  Viv spoke so passionately that her words dispelled my earlier misgivings.

  After circling the lot several times, I negotiated a rather tight parking spot between a van and a pickup truck. When Viv got out of my Jeep, I tucked her arm in mine and we began walking toward the building. “So what do you have to do today? Walk the dogs? Socialize the cats? Clean the cages?”

  “Hmm.” She pondered. “Today it’s mostly administrative work and maybe some adoption counseling.”

  After Viv had checked in at the office, she gave me a quick walking tour so I could meet the furry residents. As we moved along their cages, she gave me a brief run down of their history and circumstances.

  Most of the dogs had ended up at the shelter because their owners had passed away, or had lost their jobs and subsequently their homes, forcing them to move into apartments that didn’t allow pets.

  Several of the dogs had been found wandering the streets, left to fend for themselves by their previous owners.

  A few were strays, and more than a handful had been severely abused.

  “This is Shasta.” Vivian gestured to a scared looking greyhound and her words came out an exhale. “She was beaten with a metal pipe and her body was thrown in a trash compacter because she underperformed at the race track.”

  Before I could react, she nodded her head in the direction of the pit bull housed in the cage next to the greyhound. “And that’s Daisy over there.” Her voice was firm, but her eyes looked shadowed. “Poor girl was doused with battery acid and fed ground glass to make her more aggressive. When she lost a fight, her gangbanger owner set her on fire. The Animal Cops found Daisy locked up in a closet, her body half burned, left to die a slow death.”

  A sharp pain sliced into me.

  Then my breath left my lungs in a sigh as I suddenly remembered why I’d stopped volunteering.

  This place used to infect me with such bleak despair. And it made me so angry.

  Vivian’s smile looked sad around the edges. “Sometimes I think the lucky dogs are the ones that die during the fight.”

  I sank to my knees in front of Daisy’s kennel. “Is she aggressive?”

  “No.” Viv shook her head. “Not at all. When we first got her she was really scared, urinating when I touched her or if I even came too close to her. Thankfully, we have a behavior specialist on staff. He’s worked really hard to rehabilitate Daisy, and she’s actually been doing great. Now she’s comfortable around people and she’s starting to come out of her shell.”

  “I can see that,” I said, smiling as Daisy licked my fingers through the metal cage. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder, I asked, “What are her chances of being adopted?”

  “A pit bull mix?” Vivian exhaled slowly. “Slim to none.”

  “That’s too bad,” I murmured. “She’s a sweetheart.”

  “She seems to like you.” Vivian unlatched the cage and Daisy immediately bounded out and danced up to my ankles.

  I stroked Daisy’s brick-like head. “You know … I’ll never ever understand how these dogs can be so forgiving. I mean, some of them have been beaten, tortured, starved and abandoned, and yet they still love. I don’t think we could ever be so forgiving as a species. In fact.” I paused. “I know I could not.”

  After spending some time with Daisy, we made our way down the row of kennels. The excitement that most of the dogs exuded was almost palpable. They jumped onto their cages, barking and yelping, hoping to be chosen so they could get outside for some fresh air and exercise.

  At last, we stopped by a beautiful German Shepherd. “And this here is Atticus,” Vivian announced, and I heard the slight catch in her voice. “He was rescued a month ago and just yesterday the vet diagnosed him with terminal cancer.”

  “How long does he have to live?” I asked gently.

  “They don’t know
exactly. Months.” Pain flashed across her face. “Maybe only weeks.” She looked at me for a moment, as if trying to determine if she really wanted to say what she was about to say. “It’s hard.” Her eyes were damp and she pressed her lips together as if to stop them from trembling. “It’s really hard, Liam, not bringing any of these dogs home. After losing Milo, then Mom and Dad, I can’t—I just can’t.”

  I gave the smallest nod of understanding for I knew only too well that loving a dog meant losing a dog.

  It was such a sad and cruel fact that their lives were shorter than human lives.

  Vivian got down on her knees and opened his cage. Atticus greeted her exuberantly, swishing his tail from side to side, wagging his entire body as she buried her face in his dense and rugged coat.

  Watching them interact, I had this distinct feeling that Viv and the German Shepherd shared a deep friendship. An unbreakable bond.

  Her words confirmed my hunch. “I’ve thought about bringing him home. But it hurts too much.” She closed her eyes as if summoning the energy to continue. “It’s too painful to—”

  “Too painful to love again?” I finished her train of thought, and she fell into a ponderous silence. “But, Viv.” I waited until her eyes met mine. “You’re already in love with most of these dogs. And it’s clear to me you’re madly in love with Atticus.”

  Though she smiled a little at my words, she said nothing.

  A short while later, Vivian headed off to the main office to take care of some administrative work and I stayed back at the kennels to spend more time with Atticus, Daisy, Shasta, and all the other furry residents.

  I took them for long walks, played catch, and refilled their water bowls. It was four hours later before Vivian came to get me.

  “I’m adopting Atticus,” she informed me.

  I tried to appear nonchalant, but secretly I was overjoyed.

  “You’re right.” She drew in a deep breath and her voice was resolute when she spoke. “I love him so much. And I have a choice to either take him home with me or let him die in a cage. And I’m not going to let him die in a cage. I’m prepared to give him a lifetime of love and joy in the few months he has left.”

  The building had poor ventilation, and the air was arid and stuffy.

  And as Viv stood there, brushing her damp hair from her forehead, she looked emotionally drained and a little worn around the edges.

  But gazing at her face, I wondered how I could ever have loved anyone else in my life.

  Not only was Viv beautifully profound, she was profoundly beautiful.

  Ah, fuck trying to play it cool.

  I reached out, bridging the distance between us. “We’ll adopt Atticus together.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Really.” I cupped her face in my hands and kissed the smile on her lips.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vivian

  I awoke to a flood of cherry sunshine pouring in through the slanted venetian blinds. The morning light felt harsh against my eyes, and I turned on my side to glance at the clock.

  It was nearly nine.

  The AC kicked in and the cool air hit my bare skin. I shivered a little and looked over at Liam, watching the lean sinew of his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

  My gaze flitted up to his face. Normally there was always something about him, about his demeanor that commanded respect, and it was easy for me to see how Liam was a lieutenant in the army. How he rose through the ranks so quickly.

  But in sleep his features relaxed, and he looked so unguarded … almost youthful.

  I sighed. Last night, like most nights, Liam had slept restlessly, waking every hour or so.

  It was nightmares, he’d told me. And that was all he would say of it.

  I hadn’t pressed him for I wanted to let him reveal more on his own.

  When Liam didn’t so much as stir, I rebalanced my weight on the mattress and glanced around my bedroom.

  Where was Atticus?

  Yesterday Liam had splurged on Atticus, buying him the most luxurious bed from the pet store. Constructed of thick memory foam, it came with a taupe hypoallergenic microfiber cover, and was even labeled ‘Orthopedic.’

  Liam had set the orthopedic dog mattress next to his side of the bed.

  But Atticus wasn’t there.

  Quietly I rose out of bed, careful not to disturb Liam’s sleep. I tiptoed around the room in search of Atticus and found him curled up next to the long ottoman bench at the foot of my bed. I smiled and sat down on the bench, stroking him lovingly a few times.

  His amber-flecked eyes were turned up at me, and he whimpered softly before drifting back to sleep. Soon his black paws started twitching as he chased rabbits in his dreams.

  Suddenly the mattress creaked and I turned. Liam slipped out of the covers and came to join me on the bench. I shifted to make room for him, but he simply gathered me onto his lap and kissed me lightly on my bare shoulder.

  Together, we gazed on adoringly at Atticus like he was our firstborn child.

  The strange domesticity of the scene almost took my breath away.

  I nestled into the crook of Liam’s arm, sighing as the warmth and comfort stole through my limbs.

  With his left hand, Liam began caressing my left breast.

  He kissed that delicate pulse just beneath my ear, letting his breath caress my earlobe. “Look at us in the mirror,” he whispered.

  I lifted my gaze, staring at the floor-to-ceiling mirrored closet doors in front of us.

  Liam was watching me closely, a genuine warmth in his eyes.

  Brushing my long hair aside, he kissed the base of my neck. “Don’t look at me, Viv. Look at us.”

  In the mirror, I took in the sight of the two of us, deliciously naked on the plush ottoman bench with Liam’s arms wrapped around my waist as I sat on his lap in a reverse cowgirl position.

  Our reflected gaze was mesmerizing. Tantalizing. I loved the way we looked together. Loved the contrast of our skin … his tanned torso dark against the honey-colored complexion of my skin. The soft swells of my breasts, the lush curve of my hips set against the hard angles and planes of his tremendous male body.

  Meanwhile, Liam’s hands were caressing my breasts, lifting and pushing them together.

  A soft sigh escaped me as he covered my nipples with his thumbs and began making a series of lazy circles.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was thick and raspy as he thumbed my nipples, pinching the buds until I cried out.

  My eyes fluttered shut and I let my head roll forward, lost in the swirling sensations as he continued teasing my breasts.

  “Look in the mirror, Viv.” His tongue flicked against my ear. “I want you to get a good clear view of how sexy you look when I make love to you.” He skimmed his palms down and over my hips, pulling me firmly against his swelling erection. “I want you to see how fuckin’ hot you look when you come for me.”

  At his urging, I lifted my gaze, staring again at our reflection.

  With one hand, Liam reached between my legs, spreading my thighs and parting my sex.

  Feathers of air touched me intimately.

  I was open to Liam’s dark and intense gaze.

  Open to my gaze.

  I had to force myself not to shy away from the reflection staring back at me.

  My labia, flared wide open, flushed a deep pink and dotted with moisture.

  I looked so utterly and completely exposed. And so lewd.

  Instinctively, I tried to bring my legs together but Liam gripped my knees, keeping my thighs splayed wide open, exposing my throbbing clit.

  Sparks of heat flashed in Liam’s eyes as he stared at my glistening sex.

  I’d never felt more defenseless and more aroused. “Liam, I—”

  “Shhh,” he soothed. “Keep watching, Viv.” Using his fingertips, he spread the creamy droplets of my arousal around my labia.

  Entranced, I watched. Watched his str
ong fingers rubbing the moisture deep into my pink folds, his thumb pressing hard against my extruded clit, teasing and taunting the swollen bud.

  My body trembled, and my flesh quivered as he continued stroking, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from my body.

  A strangled sob caught in my throat, and in the mirror I saw thick rivulets of juice seeping out of my sex.

  “So wet.” His fingers cleaved the slick folds of my labia and I moaned as he sank two fingers deep into my core. “So juicy.” My moans melted into breathy whimpers as he slowly withdrew his fingers.

  With a sure, fluid grace of movement, he lifted me up and set me back down on the ottoman.

  I licked my lips in obvious anticipation, watching him pull a foil packet out of the nightstand drawer.

  He came back for me just moments later, his cock readily sheathed in a condom.

  Again, he gathered me into his arms so I was sitting on his lap, and facing away from him. Facing the floor-to-ceiling closet mirrors.

  For a frozen moment, Liam’s reflected gaze trapped mine. Then I began moving my hips against the broad head of his cock, making small pelvic circles, feeding the desire welling inside me.

  He groaned in appreciation and I felt his cock probing my warm entrance.

  Unable to tear my gaze away, I watched our reflection in the mirror as I eased myself onto his stiff shaft, slowly sinking down to the hilt. My lower abdomen clenched, feeling so full, so engorged with him buried deep inside me.

  Pleasure coiled within my womb.

  He was all I could feel, and I loved how perfectly we fit when we were joined.

  How perfectly we fit when we were fused together.

  Using the heels of my feet as support, I gently bounced up and down the length of his rigid shaft, my long breasts swaying with my rhythmic movements.

  The image was entrancing and subtly erotic.

  I watched myself as if in a dream, barely even recognizing the girl in the mirror.

  She looked so confident, so wild and free, and yet so totally in control.

  And for one heart-stopping moment I wondered if Liam saw that girl, too.

  I found his dark gaze and held it steadily.

 

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