by Jewel E. Ann
I brush past him. Vivian sits on the couch holding a glass of wine—she’s probably already drunk—and there’s some soft music playing through his speakers. Her daring eyes widen as I approach.
“Oliver, what are you doing?”
“Dude, what’s going on?” Chance calls behind me, but I keep my eyes on Vivian as I hold out my hand to her.
She stares at it, then me. “No.” She shakes her head.
“Oliver, do you mind telling us what’s going on?” Chance rests his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off.
“Vivian is my neighbor.” I grit my teeth.
“Your … what? She’s who you’ve been—”
“Yes, and now she’s coming with me.”
Vivian sets her wine down and stands, crossing her defiant arms. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Viv, you’re the virgin?” Chance asks.
Vivian throws her hands in the air. “Oh. My. God! Has it gone viral online too? Does everyone know I’m a virgin?” She grabs her purse, storming to the door. “Why is it such a damn big deal?” she yells.
Chance doesn’t move. It’s apparent his mind is playing catch-up. I follow Vivian out the door.
“Don’t touch me and don’t follow me!” She waves her finger at me when I attempt to grab her arm.
“Where are you going?” I call as she stomps up the alley.
“I’m going to get my cherry popped, dickhead!”
What?
“Vivian, wait!” I jog after her. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I reach for her hand. She yanks it away.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who ditched me because my hymen’s still intact.” She turns and strides away.
“I’m sorry.”
Still walking away.
“I was stupid.”
Still walking away.
“Dammit!” I chase after her. Grabbing her waist, I pull her to me as she twists and flails to escape. “Just listen to me.”
“No!” She wriggles in my arms, jerking her elbows side to side.
Leaving me no choice, I hoist her over my shoulder and she screams. “Stop, my skirt … I’m not wearing—”
I reach up to pull her skirt down over her … bare ass!
“Where the hell are your underwear?”
She punches her fists against my backside. “They’re at my house. Now put me down!”
“Are you behind on your laundry?”
“No! Are you really this dense?”
I deposit her in the passenger’s seat.
“Buckle up.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why would I go with you?”
My head drops and I rest my hands on the top of my car. “Because I need you.”
She gapes at me with an unrelenting stare as I shut her door.
“Why do you need me?” she whispers as I pull away from the curb.
Keeping my eyes on the road, I shake my head. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
*
We travel home in a thick cloud of silence, my voice held hostage by emotion laden tongue. I anticipate her making a dash across the street for her door when I stop the car, but she doesn’t. She waits for me to open her door. Taking her hand, I lead her to my place and she follows without hesitation.
Vivian stops just inside the door as I continue forward, tossing my keys on the counter.
“Do you want something to drink?” I hate the uncertainty that’s in my voice, like I just made a huge mistake and now I don’t know what to do about it.
She shakes her head as intense eyes full of uncertainty track my every move. My phone chimes in my pocket. There’s a missed call and a message from an unknown number. I listen to it as Vivian continues to watch me, gauge me, unravel me.
It’s not the voice on the message, or the words, it’s the timing. I can’t hear anything past my own pounding pulse and all I see is red. Three years later and I hate her with every fiber of my being. I slam my phone on the counter shattering the face of it. Vivian jumps while standing in the middle of my living room. At some point she made her way to the mess of pillow filling and ripped fragments of material still strewn about the floor and couch.
“I’m … sorry. I should not have brought you here.” My feet take me to the stairs on their own accord because I’m so numb right now the only thing I feel is the suffocating compression on my sternum as my lungs fight for air. “Sor–sorry.” I stumble to my room and slam the door, ripping off my shirt because even the light weight of cotton feels like lead against my chest. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I hunch over with my head in my hands and cry. The pain pours out like a mix of blood and acid. The hate is all consuming and the pain is crippling.
The door creaks open. My emotions stall in my throat. I can’t look up, so all I see are her bare feet facing away from me.
“Please … go.” My voice cracks.
She doesn’t budge. Her shirt falls to the floor by her feet. I can only see the back of her legs from the knees down. What is she doing? Her bra joins her shirt on the floor.
She waits.
Her back is to me and then it hits me so hard––her back is bared to me.
Releasing my hands from my face, I move my gaze up to her back one slow inch at a time. She’s shaking like a delicate leaf and her hair is pulled off to one shoulder. I blink away my tears––twisted branches with flowers. Flowers everywhere and not one … single … one … is bloomed.
Oh. God!
Every intricate detail covers what’s lying beneath: scars—everywhere. Then she turns her head and glossy green eyes meet mine as she bites together her trembling lips.
“Vivian …” I whisper. “… beautiful, you’re … perfect.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “No take backs?”
I smile, taking her hand in mine. She turns around and moves between my legs, brushing her hair off her chest. Pressing my lips to her palm, I close my eyes and crash. My whole world collides and she has no idea that in this moment she’s throwing me a lifeline. “No take backs.”
It kills me that someone so stunning inside and out has lived in fear of people changing their mind about her beauty. I wonder how long she’s lived with such insecurity. Even more, I wonder if any man has made her feel less than perfect. The pain in her eyes when she looks back at me tells me the answer is yes.
She begins to slip her skirt past her hips but I grab her wrists.
“Not tonight. I’m just …” I sigh. “I have too much on my mind, but soon. Okay?”
She pulls her skirt back up and nods while grabbing her bra and shirt. With a weak smile she turns away from me to finish dressing.
“Vivian?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re not upset are you?”
She shakes her head. I stand and walk in front of her as she buttons the last button.
“Are you sure?”
She looks at my chest. “Yes. I’ll just see you tomorrow or something.”
I cup her face and kiss her soft lips. It’s taking everything I have to let her go tonight, but she deserves my full attention and right now I’m being pulled apart.
“I’ll walk you home.”
“Don’t be stupid. It’s across the street.” Her voice is void of emotion as she turns and walks down the hall to the stairs.
I sense she’s at least a little disappointed, but I don’t know what more I can say or do tonight. Looking out the bedroom window, I watch her sprint down the front steps of the building and across the street. As she fumbles to get her key in the lock, I notice her arm keeps rubbing her eyes.
Shit! She’s crying.
Chapter Eight
Time Stands Still
Vivian
There’s approximately twenty strides from Oliver’s front door to mine, but I make it in less than ten. Holding myself together until I reach the safety of my sanctuary is excruciating, but not as much as yet another rejection. I saw his pain, but I
couldn’t see past it. The message on his phone, the massacred pillow, the aching sound of his sobs, I wanted to take his pain away and I thought he could do the same for me. Letting my guard down, letting him see me … all of me.
I laid my heart on the floor in his bedroom; with his words he held it in his hands and with his eyes he gave it back to me. It was the first time someone has looked at my back and not had pity in their eyes. Doctors, my parents, Kai, Alex, they all had the same look, but not Oliver. In his eyes I saw a woman not a victim, and in that moment the scars faded and my heart felt reborn. Then he took it all away. Racked with nerves shaking my entire body, I needed him to wrap me in his arms and wash away the pain, insecurities, and ugliness that has plagued my body and mind.
He left me with nothing and I left him with a vision that will fester in his mind until he wakes up and sees what everyone before him has seen—too much to bear. I know that moment was real, but that moment has drifted away and I fear we can never get it back.
Locking the door behind me, I wipe my eyes. The room feels cold, bare, and lonely. Alex is gone, but I wish she were here. I need someone’s arms, anyone’s arms.
A pounding against the door startles me. My heart surges against my chest as the rest of my body stills against the door. I inch it open to see Oliver.
He’s here!
He holds my purse up, letting it dangle from his finger.
Oh, I just forgot my purse.
“Um, thanks.” I try to grab it without completely opening the door. He has his own problems; I don’t need to be one of them.
He pulls it away as I try to grab it.
“Vivian?”
“Hmm?”
“Open the door.”
I wipe my eyes and open the door with a defeated sigh. Oliver tosses my purse on the floor and frames my face in his hands. My brain wants to protest his touch, but my body can’t. Fragile blue eyes steal my breath so I surrender my words, leaving them for another time. Right now I take him in: disheveled copper-blond hair that usually has order, his strong angular jaw with a soft stubble shadow below prominent cheek bones, and faded crimson lips that I can’t stop craving. Oliver is beautifully handsome.
He shakes his head, relinquishing a sad smile as he wipes the moisture away from my cheeks. “Vivian, I told you, no take backs.”
Oliver kisses me and the earth stops moving beneath my feet, as if our lips meeting trumps anything else the over seven billion other people in the world are doing at this exact moment. Time just … stops.
Somewhere between now and forever, he carries me up the stairs bumping our bodies from one wall to the next as I refuse to let go of his lips.
“This one,” I murmur into his kiss as we start to pass my room.
He kicks the door shut setting me on my feet. Brushing my fingertips over my bruised lips, I grin. Oliver raises a brow, staring at my bed.
“A twin bed?”
I nod, then he nods. “O–kay.” He pulls down the covers and tosses my pillow on the floor.
He has some real pillow issues.
“I’ve had a shitty day … until you.” He unbuttons my shirt. “With you…” he pushes my shirt off my shoulders and unfastens my bra “…everything’s better.”
My body trembles and I hate that my nerves are so obvious. Oliver kisses me. It’s the only part of our bodies that touch. Our tongues tease and our lips caress. My eyes fight to stay open as he trails his lips and tongue along my neck and down my chest, stopping between my breasts, lingering right over my heart. Each blink is heavier than the one before, but I don’t want to miss one second of this. Every look we share is filled with a million wordless emotions.
He pulls down my skirt and looks up at me with a tiny grin as if he just remembered I’m not wearing any panties. I shrug and smile.
Standing, he backs me to the bed until I sit. Lying back, I pull my feet up on the bed and part my shaky knees while he shrugs off his shirt.
Stick, pinch, burn, stick, pinch, burn.
My chest rises and falls in rapid succession.
Stick, pinch, burn, stick, pinch, burn.
Oliver unfastens his jeans and pushes them down leaving on his boxer briefs. He’s turned on. Oh. My. God! He’s turned on by me. I look at him and he grins. He’s watching me stare at his tented briefs.
Sucking in a deep breath, I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes tight while my hands grip the sheets.
Stick, pinch, burn, stick, pinch, burn.
“Don’t worry about me, I can take it. You don’t need to hold back, just … do it!” I clench my teeth together and fight to keep my legs spread for him.
I wait.
And wait.
Nothing.
Peeking one eye open, I see Oliver standing before me with his briefs still on. His brows knit together and he smiles, releasing a soft chuckle. He kneels on the bed between my legs and grabs my right foot. Bringing it to his mouth, he kisses the pad of my big toe and then my arch, keeping his eyes on mine.
My fingers relax their death grip on the sheets. His lips and tongue ignite a blazing fire along my skin as he works his way up my leg. About three inches beyond my knee, he brushes his tongue against my inner thigh and makes a slow move to continue up my leg.
I snap my legs together against his head like a vice, preventing him from going any farther.
“Vivian? What are you doing?” His voice muffles against my leg.
“What are you doing? Whe–where are you going?”
He grips my knees and pries my legs open, releasing his head. “I’m preparing you.”
I swallow. “For what?”
“For me.”
“Oh … um … uh …”
He takes my hand and guides it between my legs until I’m covering myself. His lips press against the back of my hand, kissing my knuckles and each one of my fingers. Then his tongue repeats the same pattern and my hand twitches. My pulse takes flight and my mouth falls open as my breathing becomes heavy. I curl my fingers and touch myself. Oliver slides his tongue between my wet fingers and grazes my sensitive flesh. He sucks my finger into his mouth and as I pull it from his mouth, I slide it up my belly and relax my legs exposing all of myself to him.
“Ahh!” I cry, jerking my hips off the bed when his mouth covers me.
He doesn’t stop and it’s embarrassing how quickly I’m seeing stars. “Ol–Oliver … stop … I’m … I’m going to—” I grab his hair and fist it so hard I’m pretty sure he groans, but he doesn’t stop his relentless assault.
“Oh God! Oh God! Oh … Oliver!” I yell, thrashing my head from side to side as my orgasm sucks the life out of me in thundering waves.
There’s not a tense muscle left in my body. In fact, I feel like I could pass out from exhaustion. Oliver kisses his way up my abdomen to my breasts and hums as his mouth closes over my nipple. Releasing it, he sits up and removes his boxer briefs then goes right back to my other breast.
“Did you like that?” he asks while working his way up my neck.
“Yes.” I start to find my breath. “Ung!” I cry as his mouth takes mine and he pushes into me with one hard thrust.
Stick, pinch, buurrrnn! Goodbye, virginity.
Oliver stills while his tongue invades my mouth. My fingers dig into his firm butt muscles, then he starts to move—slow at first. His mouth never leaves my body; it’s on my lips, neck, ear, and breasts, distracting me from the torpedo invasion down below.
I don’t really have anything to compare him to except books and movies, but Oliver is not very vocal during sex. He must think I’m a real screamer. Then there is my twin bed that I’ve had since I was six, the frame on it squeaks and squawks like a rusty wagon being pulled along a cobblestone road. I’m so grateful that Alex is not home to hear the symphony of Vivian and her childhood bed getting seriously nailed by the hottest guy to ever walk the planet.
“Ouch!” I yell.
Oliver distracts my thoughts as he stills deep inside me and bites my ni
pple a little harder than necessary. I glare down at him and he smiles with my nipple still between his teeth and sweat beading along his brow.
“Sadist, huh?”
He releases my nipple and kisses it shaking his head. “Not hardly.”
Easing off me, he inches out and I can’t hide the slight grimace on my face. His mirrors mine. “Sorry.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.” I sit up on my arms, look down, and see a little bit of blood on him and something else that’s not there. “Oh my God! Where’s your condom? Please tell me you used a condom? I don’t remember you putting one on! Oh. My. Go—”
He kisses me and I relax, a little. Releasing my lips his gaze falls and he stands pulling on his pants. “I can’t have children, sorry.”
Wrapping the sheet around my body, I sit up. “Why are you sorry?”
He runs his hands through his hair. “Because I should have told you before things … went this far.”
“You’re assuming I want kids and being with me would just be leading me on?”
He nods and the pain in his face is so disheartening. I stand letting the sheet fall from my body. Resting my hands on his chest, I look up at him. “Before I met you I had resigned myself to the idea that my fate was to be an eternal virgin.” I press my lips to his chest and his hand cups the back of my head with tenderness. “So really, kids haven’t been on my radar since I played dollies as a young girl. Okay?”
Oliver kisses the top of my head. “But you deserve—”
“I deserve this.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him to me. “No take backs.”
He nods with a sad smile as he wraps me in his arms. I can’t get enough of him. He’s ice cream on a hot summer day, peanuts and the Red Sox, popcorn at the movies, and a candlelit cake on my birthday. My lips find his and become demanding as my hands move to the button of his jeans.
“No way.” He grabs my wrists. “You’re going to be sore. You should think about taking a hot bath.” Interlacing our fingers he moves our hands behind my back. “I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?”
My lips pull into a forced smile so he doesn’t see my disappointment. It’s not about the sex. He’s right, I’m a little … okay, a lot sore right now. I just don’t want to leave the comfort of his arms, and my twin bed isn’t too inviting so asking him to stay would be ridiculous.