Idle Bloom

by Jewel E. Ann

  I try to pace myself on the wine by eating plenty of food and drinking lots of water, but that only serves to make me need to use the bathroom every twenty minutes. This time when I return, Oliver pulls me onto his lap before I get to my chair. His family watches us with adoration on their faces that can be seen through the soft illumination of the fire and tree lanterns.

  “I think we should leave soon,” he whispers in my ear.

  My mildly inebriated body is warm already, but his breath against my neck elevates my temperature to a near sweat. “But I’m having such a nice time.” I rest the back of my head against his shoulder and gaze at the mesmerizing flames.

  “I think you’ll have a nice time at my place too.” His lips brush my bare shoulder next to my sundress strap and his tongue wets my skin making me squirm in his lap.

  Sliding me off his lap, we both stand. “We’re going to take off.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to stay for a little bit yet, would it be too much to ask for you to drop Viv off at her place for me?” Chance tips back his beer bottle to mask his smart-ass grin.

  Oliver doesn’t acknowledge him with words. Instead, he grabs his beer and empties the rest in the grass.

  “Hey, what the hell?” Chance yells.

  “If you don’t ease up you won’t even be driving your own ass home.” Oliver smacks the back of his head.

  “Thank you so much for dinner. It was incredible and I’ve had the best time tonight.” I address both Jackie and Hugh with sincere thanks.

  “It was our pleasure. Hope to see you next week. You have a permanent standing invitation incase either one of our sons forgets to show their manners and invite you.”

  Oliver shakes his head.

  “Are we still on for the morning, Son?” Hugh asks Oliver.

  “Absolutely, see you bright and early.”

  Jackie stands and gives us both hugs.

  “Bye, Chance. Thanks for the invite.” I lean down and kiss him on the cheek.

  Oliver is quick to tug my arm and pull me away from his brother.

  “Bye, Viv. Tell my big bro to chill. We can share you. It’s all in the family.”

  *

  Oliver ushers me to the car with his hands all over me. Even my numbing buzz can’t mask the sexual tension sparking between us. Somewhere between a step, a breath, and a blink, he’s managed to pin my body facedown against the passenger door of his car. If we’re role-playing good cop-bad cop, he’s definitely not the former.

  “Did I mention how much I like this dress?” His voice is deep, breathy, and teetering on the edge. I feel his erection pressed against my ass as his hands snake up my sides and cup my breasts.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “No bra?”

  “No, straps would show.” My eyes roll back in my head. The wine, his hands, his voice, and those hips pulsing into me dissolve all coherent thoughts. I could pass out.

  And in the same time-stealing instant, he’s no longer pressed against me. I’m nothing more than a lifeless bug splattered on his car.

  “Let’s go.”

  I peel myself from the window as he opens the door. My body collapses in the seat, someone with more dexterity than I, fastens my seat belt, and the door is closed. Oliver starts the engine then leans over and sucks the last breath out of me with his greedy lips and demanding tongue. His hand slides up by bare thigh and my nonexistent nerves do nothing to stop his approach as I unabashedly spread my legs for him.

  He freezes just as my panting reaches the red alert mark. “Where the hell are your underwear?”

  My eyes pop open and my lips pull into a sexy grin. “I’m not wearing any.”

  “Obviously! Why not?” There’s an edge to his voice.

  I shrug. “I feel sexy without them.”

  He sits up and fastens his seat belt then shoves the car into reverse. “News flash, Vivian, you’re a walking wet dream in a sundress without panties or in a full suit of armor!”

  Pinching my lips together I try to hide my smile. He doesn’t say any more until we’re parked on our street. Opening my door, he holds out his hand. Something tells me I’d follow this man anywhere.

  He flips on the lights as we walk through the front doorway. “Did you get the extra warranty?” I gesture to his new phone charging on the counter.

  Oliver turns to me with a soft smile. His gaze caresses my skin.

  “How do you do that?” I whisper.

  “Do what?”

  “Make me feel everything with an invisible touch.”

  He closes his eyes. In this moment I would crawl through the desert, drink the sand, and risk being eaten alive by snakes and scorpions, just to have one glimpse into his thoughts.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.” I rest my forehead against his chest.

  “I’ll show you.”

  *

  Naked. I step from the pool of cotton at my feet. Lanky legs, bony hips, witchy hair, and a canvas of ink camouflaging the riddling of scars on my back, but it all disappears under his gaze. I see my perfection in his eyes.

  He removes his shirt and grins. It’s a little cocky, a tad boyish, and a whole lot of sexy. I sit on his enormous bed, scoot to the middle, and cross my legs. Oliver looks at me with a wrinkle of question on his forehead.

  “Keep going.” I bite on my thumbnail and grin.

  He turns around, unfastens his pants, then slides one side down, looking at me over his shoulder while biting his bottom lip.

  I giggle.

  He eases the other side down.

  Another sexy look back at me.

  Another giggle.

  He continues to make a meal out of undressing for me, and I eat every bit of it up—one deliciously teasing move at a time. Once he’s completely naked, he interlaces his hands behind his head and flexes his hard glutes for me. His whole body is cut to a beautiful perfection and his skin … flawless.

  Oliver glances at me over his shoulder again with a playful grin that fades when he sees my face.

  “Hey.” He turns and crawls up on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “You. You’re … confident and sexy and … perfect.” I swallow back my emotions. “And your skin, it’s—”

  Oliver presses his finger to my lips and shakes his head. Then his lips replace his finger. Hands of gentle strength glide over my body one small curve at a time.

  He’s showing me.

  Somehow Oliver knows when words are inadequate. I feel his passion and carnal need harnessed with incredible control as he explores my body with his, bringing me to the edge. My body begs for his, every millimeter of space between us is unbearable.

  “Oli … please!” My voice is breathless as his incredible lips brush over my nipples, up my neck, finding home with mine as he sinks into me.

  I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and I hold on. Oliver can take me anywhere.

  *

  Oliver

  I’m in a bit of a quandary. The plan for my relationship with Vivian to remain solely physical is failing at a catastrophic level. The physical part is not even in this dimension. It’s as if she’s starving and I’m the only one in the entire world that has what she needs to survive. Will she wake up one day and realize that I’ve poisoned her? Will I survive if she does?

  My nearly six and a half foot long body curls into a five by two foot space while Vivian sleeps in her greedy diagonal position across the bed. She was on top of me until I slid out at sunrise. My dad will be here soon anyway, but I can’t pass up the few spare moments I have to watch her sleep. I’m up to twenty eight on her freckle count.

  “I can feel your stare,” she mumbles.

  “Hold still, I’m not done.”

  She cracks open one eye, but just a squint. “Done with what?”

  “Counting your freckles.”

  “Oh God!” She throws her arm over her face. “Yet, another undesirable trait of mine.”

  I pry her arm a
way and kiss her freckled nose, cheeks, and then her full, delicious lips. I have to adjust my hard-on because she’s so damn sexy I can’t even think about her without standing at full attention.

  “Vivian, I swear I’m going to make it my life’s mission to make you see that your brightness blinds the sun.”

  She brushes her palms over my face. “I don’t deserve you.”

  I kiss her and stand, slowly releasing her hand. “You’re right. You deserve better.”

  *

  “I like her.” My dad pants as he grips the water with his oars.

  “I like her too.” I exert all my effort while extending my legs and flexing my arms. “Maybe too much.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “She’s so young and she doesn’t know anything about me.” I grind the words through clenched teeth as rivulets of sweat trickle down my face.

  “What do you know about her?”

  “She’s smart as a whip, has impeccable work ethic. She wants to take over the world, yet she doesn’t have a pretentious bone in her body.” I suck in another labored breath. “She’s kind with a childlike innocence, and seventy-five percent of her back is covered in third-degree burn scars that have been tattooed over.”

  My dad stops and looks back at me. “I saw part of the tattoo near her neck and shoulders, but her hair covered most of it. I had no idea—”

  I shake my head. “She fell into a campfire. God, Dad, it’s scarred her in more ways than one.”

  He nods. “Have you met her parents?”

  “No, of course as you know, they don’t live around here, but I don’t know if I’m ready to be that person in her life—as in, the guy she takes home.”

  “You might be right, or you might be being a little hard on yourself. But she deserves the truth, Son. As much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, it doesn’t change what happened and all secrets get revealed in time.”

  I take a swig of water and sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

  *

  I don’t think we make conscious decisions as to what images get burned into our brains. Some of mine will forever haunt me, but this one, I will take to my grave and save it for my next life too.

  “Hey, Oli.”

  Long bare legs extending beyond one of my Harvard Crimson T-shirts stretch out on my couch and cross at the ankles. That sexy mess of raven hair is piled in a knotted bun on her head, and she’s wearing black thick-rimmed glasses while reading a paper—an actual newspaper. This naughty school girl image is a keeper.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, grabbing a glass of water without taking my eyes off her. Not that I could even if I wanted to.

  “Reading the paper, specifically the business section. Why, what does it look like I’m doing?” She folds the top of the paper down and peers at me over the rims of her glasses.

  “Where’d you get the paper? You know you can get all that info online now.” I drain my water, wiping the back of my mouth with my wrist.

  “I got the paper from my house. I subscribe. And, yes, I’m aware that this information is available online.” She brings the paper to her nose and sniffs. “Ah, but this smell. You can’t get it online. I love the smell of newspapers and books. I rarely use my Kindle. Besides, it reminds me of my grandparents. They used to live near us and I’d stop by their house on my way to school. My grandma would pour me a cup of orange juice in one of those little juice glasses with the flowers on the outside and I’d sip it and watch her and my grandpa drink their coffee and read the newspaper. It still smells the same.”

  I’m conflicted right now. I should feel the urge to share one of my own childhood memories. But I’m a guy … with her looking like this on my couch so the only urge I’m feeling is the one to bend her over the back of the couch and make her scream in ecstasy. I’m not proud of it.

  I walk closer. “Glasses, huh?”

  Vivian nods. “I only need them to read, otherwise I get a headache.”

  I lift the hem of my shirt she’s wearing. No underwear, again!

  “Did you walk to your place wearing this?”

  She gives me the over-the-glasses’-rim look again. “Yes, why?”

  God! The neighbors must love her. I shake my head, roll my eyes to the ceiling, and sigh. “No reason, I’m going to shower.”

  A very cold shower!

  *

  “I’m going home to shower and get dressed,” Vivian yells into the bathroom while I’m in the shower.

  “It was a perfect morning on the water. We should go boating,” I call over the water.

  “Boating?” she says with uncertainty in her voice.

  “Yes, my parents own a boat. We can take it out, pack some lunch, make a day of it.”

  “Um …”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. Go grab your suit, pack a bag, sunscreen, whatever.”

  I lather my hair and wait for a reply, but I don’t hear anything. Maybe she’s left already. Peeking my head out, I see her leaning against the door frame picking at her lower lip, eyes downcast.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing … Well, I don’t have a swimsuit. They’re back at my parent’s house. I’ll just wear a sundress or shorts and a tank.”

  “You don’t have a swimsuit?”

  Vivian shakes her head.

  “How can you not have—”

  Her gaze falters and I physically feel the pain radiating from her.

  “In that case, shower, get dressed, and I’ll be over to get you in an hour.”

  She squints at me.

  “No questions, just go.” I give her a simple wink and a smile.

  Her shoulders slump and she nods a few times before turning and walking out like an errant child. I want to chase after her, wrap her in my arms, and squeeze all the painful insecurity from her body, but I don’t. The intricate details of her self-doubt that are woven beneath her surface cannot be unraveled in a day. I know this, but it still won’t stop me from trying.

  *

  “Where are we going?” Vivian asks as we turn onto Soldiers Field Road.

  “Shopping.”

  “For?”

  I give her a sideways glance and a grin. “Necessities.”

  “There’s more than one 7-Eleven in Cambridge.”

  “Not quite the necessities we need.” I rest my right hand on her bare leg.

  “We?”

  “Yes, we.”

  Vivian shakes her head and stares out her window. By some miracle I find a parking spot and parallel my smaller car in between two SUVs.

  “Newbury Street? Hope you brought your black card.”

  “Funny coming from the woman who will probably own Newbury Street someday.”

  Vivian opens her door before I have a chance to get out. “Wall Street, Oli, not Newbury Street.” She grins and hops out.

  We both slip on our sunglasses, I take her hand, and we walk down the sidewalk scoping out the multi-level stores and boutiques.

  “Why do you call me Oli?”

  “It’s short for Oliver, doesn’t anyone else call you Oli?”

  “Not since I was a kid.”

  She looks up at me. “You don’t like it?”

  “I didn’t until …”

  “Until what?”

  I can’t hide my grin. She stops and faces me. “Tell me.”

  Bending down I brush my lips against hers. “Until you begged me last night, ‘Oli … please!’”

  Her skin flushes and she shoves my chest. “Jerk. How do you like that instead? That’s your new name because you’re making fun of me.”

  I palm the back of her head and pull her back to me, tasting every inch of her mouth until her body melts into my touch. I’m sure people are staring, but I don’t give a damn.

  “I’m not making fun of you,” I whisper as she rubs her lips together. “Now let’s get what we need and get out on the water.”

  Chapter Ten

  I Could Love You

  Vivian
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  “I’m not wearing this.” I yell from the dressing room.

  “Let me see.” Oliver chuckles sitting on the bench outside.

  “No. Tell the clerk to bring me a one-piece that’s not cut low in the back.

  “Vivian, you’re twenty-one, not fifty. You’re not getting a one-piece. I’m the only one who’s going to see you in it.”

  “Oli—Oliver, it doesn’t cover—”

  He opens the door and slips in the dressing room with me.

  “Get out!” I try to cover myself.

  He smirks. “It’s Oli to you, and I’ve seen you naked. What? Are you trying to hide from me?”

  I huff, letting out a sigh as I release my arms to my side. His seductive eyes consume my body as his tongue slides out to wet his lips.

  “Turn around.”

  I shake my head.

  He cocks his head to the side. “Really?”

  “Fine!” I turn around.

  He moves my hair off my back and kisses my neck as we stare at each other in the mirror. “Alluring, captivating, divine, elegant, exquisite, mesmerizing, radiant, ravishing … stunning,” he whispers.

  “What are you talking about?” I roll my eyes.

  “You. In case you’re tired of hearing me call you beautiful. I have at least a hundred more. I could go on.”

  I stare at the simple white string bikini Oliver picked out. It barely covers my most private parts, let alone anything on my back. But for some reason, I want to please him today.

  “I’ll get it. Now get out of here.”

  Oliver lights up like the Fourth of July. Simultaneously, he pulls the ties on my hips letting the material fall to the ground. I raise a single brow.

  “Just testing it out … for later.” He smirks. “I approve.”

  “Pervert.”

  “Not yet.” He pulls the ties to my top revealing my naked breasts. “Now I am.” He winks. “See you in a few minutes.”

  He looks all too pleased with himself as I exit the dressing room.

  “Here.” He holds out his hand as I exit with the flimsy material.

  “You’re not buying this.”

  “Yes, I am.”