Live-In Position

by V. S. Tice

  The next day, after twenty minutes of sulking and worrying after Victoria left, I realized I needed to take my mind off of things. I called Miranda. She and Benji had plans for dinner, but they were kind enough to invite me along with them. I declined, not wanting to be the third wheel. Then I got another idea.

  I called my dad and told him I was thinking about driving down to see them. He and Carla were thrilled. It was almost one in the afternoon when I finished packing. I decided to make a stop in the kitchen for some road trip snacks and bottles of water. After grabbing a few granola bars, a bag of chips, and some water I headed toward the back stairs. I passed by the dining room and saw Dr. Bishop hunched over a half empty glass of brown liquid. His head was in his hands, and a half full bottle of the same brown liquid was to the right of him.

  “Dr. Bishop?” My voice was barely above a whisper, but I didn’t want to startle him. He looked up at me with heavy, sad eyes. “Are you alright?”

  He didn’t respond at first. I took a step closer and was about to speak again when he finally responded.

  “Are you going somewhere?” His eyes, so sad and haunted, darted from my full hands back to my face.

  “I was going to visit my father in Tacoma.” My voice was quiet.

  He snorted quietly with a half smirk before he put his head back down.

  “Do you need to talk about something?”

  He shook his head. I sighed. “If you want to talk, I’ll be upstairs.”

  “I thought you were leaving?” He didn’t raise his head.

  I kept my back to him. “I’ll be upstairs.”

  Back in my room, I called my father and told him I would try to make it another time. He was disappointed but didn’t give me too much guilt. I ended the call with a promise to visit soon.

  I pulled on some comfortable lounge clothes and curled up on my couch with my laptop, my book outline, and the road trip snacks. After thirty minutes of television, I hit the mute button and put my ear buds in, listening to one of my favorite play lists. I made some changes to my outline and typed my story out.

  The room was starting to dim, which meant evening was approaching. I reached behind me and switched on the lamp. That was when I heard a noise. I grabbed the wires to my ear buds and yanked.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  My head snapped toward the sound. I placed my laptop and outline on the coffee table before I got up and walked to the door. The knocking started again.

  “Yes?” Opening the door, I was greeted by the glazed eyes of Dr. Bishop.

  The eyes were familiar from the previous drunken night, but the expression on his face wasn’t as intense. There was a great sadness and a need there instead. I pulled the door all the way open and motioned for him to enter. He didn’t move.

  “What if she doesn’t bring her back?” He sounded defeated and lost.

  “I’m sure she will bring her home tomorrow.” I tried to sound reassuring, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit to thinking the same thing.

  “How can you be so sure?” His eyes narrowed on me.

  I sighed.

  “I guess I can’t be. Why don’t you call and check on her?”

  He walked into my room and sat down on the couch.

  “Do you think I should?”

  “I think you have the right to check on your daughter.”

  “How are you so calm?” He looked at me with a longing I had never seen on his face. “I saw the way you were when she was leaving.”

  I sighed heavily and sat down next to him, leaving ample space between us.

  “I’ve been trying to keep my mind off of it.” I shrugged. Then I looked at him. Big mistake. My eyes were caught in his. The intensity in them felt like fire burning deep into my soul. My breathing hitched.

  “Why do I feel like this?”

  “You miss her,” I whispered.

  He shook his head. “Not that. Why do I feel like this with you?”

  “Um, Dr. Bishop, I think maybe you should go.” I choked out the words but couldn’t pull out of his stare. My mind told me to stand up, to get away, but I couldn’t comply. He moved, breaking the trance. My relief was short-lived. He knelt in front of me – between my legs.

  “I can’t go.” His hands pressed into the leather on either side of my thighs. “You have to feel it. It’s almost too much to handle. And when I’m this close to you it’s,” his words revealed something close to pain, “torture.”

  I swallowed the large lump that grew with each movement he made and each word he spoke.

  “What is it about you?” His eyes lost their trancelike state and searched around my face.

  “There isn’t anything about me,” I whispered, leaning back into the couch – trying to create more space between us.

  “You’re wrong.” He leaned closer, hovering over the length of me.

  “You’re crossing a line.”

  “Fuck the line.” His body pressed to mine, and his warm mouth conquered my lips.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ONE HAND LATCHED to my hip, he pressed the entire length of him firmly against me. The weight of his body surprised me at first, and he gained easy access to my gasping mouth. His tongue moved fluidly and his lips were rhythmic. There was nothing I could do except bend to his will. Closing my eyes, I let myself go.

  Sliding one hand up his chest and around the back of his neck, I matched every movement his lips made. Snaking my free hand around his side, I rested it low on his waist. Eventually I needed to breathe. Tilting my head back, I tried to catch my breath.

  With my eyes clenched tightly shut, my body arched into his ministrations. When I finally got brave enough to open them, I found myself locked in the intensity of his eyes. I could feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest against mine, and it made me ache to get even closer.

  We stayed locked in a trance until his phone buzzed in his pocket. At first, neither of us moved or said a word. After the fourth buzz he pulled his eyes away and sat back on his heels, pulling the phone out of his pocket and looking at the screen.

  The shame of my wanton behavior crept over me. I internally screamed at myself for being so weak and shifted in an attempt to remove myself from the tangle we were currently in. However, Dr. Bishop tossed his phone onto the coffee table behind him. His eyebrows drew together above his nose. I stilled. He leaned back down to me.

  My hands impulsively moved to his chest to discourage him, but it was a feeble attempt. I wanted him, and my body was revolting against all common sense. He kissed my mouth and then moved over my jaw to my neck, both of our breathing increasing with every touch of our skin.

  My fingers knotted at the back of his head. His hair was thick and soft. He growled and grabbed both of my hips. I moaned when he kissed the juncture between my shoulder and neck. His grip tightened on me and pulled my hips toward him.

  His hips grazed the inside of my thighs. The edge of the couch dug into my butt, which barely remained on the cushions. His lips felt like fiery licks against my skin, and euphoria filled my senses. Our bodies pressed closely together, heavy panting filled the air around us.

  Dr. Bishop‘s lips pressed against my skin, a wide O shape had formed on his mouth. His heated breaths escaped across my skin. He groaned as he moved against me. A tingle coiled into one large bubble of ecstasy. The moment he rubbed over me, the bubble burst and my head buried into his shoulder, trying to muffle my wanton scream as my body convulsed in satisfaction.

  He pressed on toward his own frantic release, each clothing-covered thrust into me causing another pleasurable wave to pulse. Both of my hands found his hair again and gripped tighter. I pulled his head from my neck and crashed our lips together.

  The euphoria ended, and reality of the hot, sweaty mess we’d become sunk in. I tensed up and felt him tighten his arms around me.

  “Oh god.”

  Sliding my hands from his shoulders, I covered my face. Thoughts about what just happened and the consequences flooded me
. Dr. Bishop moved slowly off of me. I wanted to hide away in a dark corner. I had become the live-in whore. Shit, I’m a cliché.

  Impatiently, I waited for him to move from between my legs, but he didn‘t. Instead, his hands pressed against my thighs before sliding in slow progression over my body. A shiver rushed over me, but I couldn‘t bring myself out of hiding.

  Soon his hands found my shoulders and slid up my arms until he stopped at my wrists. Taking them into his hands and pulling me to a seated position, he removed them from my face. I feared I would see disgust in his eyes. What I feared most, though, was seeing want. Want would mean this was going to go further. That I was definitely his new live-in plaything.

  “Look at me.” It was a direct order.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “Just go. It didn’t happen,” I whispered. Self-disgust washed over me.

  The release of his heavy, annoyed sigh made me tense. I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable.

  “I’m not going.”

  Releasing my breath, I opened one eye at a time.

  “It shouldn’t have happened.” I shook my head and met his glare. Yeah, he was definitely glaring. “It’s a risk that could cost—”

  His hands were on my face, and his lips were on mine. I completely melted again. He pulled away. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

  “I agree it isn’t the best timing,” he stated firmly and pursed his lips. “Regardless, I won’t give you up.” I furrowed my brow and started to shake my head. As I was about to speak, he covered my mouth with his hand. “I have fought this for too long. Going back is not an option now.”

  “But Victoria, the custody case –?”

  “I will have to figure that out, but I w —”

  “No, no, no.” I shook my head violently and pulled his hands from my face.

  “Nothing…serious happened here,” I motioned between the two of us, “so no one has to know. It won’t happen again.”

  His face hardened.

  “Nothing happened here?” His cold and hard tone was back.

  I shook my head.

  ”Sophia, I just dry humped you on this couch. You call that nothing?” He narrowed his eyes on me.

  “But it wasn’t sex, and it can be prevented from—”

  “I told you before. I’ve been fighting this for a long time. I can’t go back to fighting it.” The intensity of his emerald eyes returned. “I’m not that strong of a man.”

  I swallowed hard but said nothing. I was on the verge of tears. What have I done? I’ve ruined everything for Victoria, that’s what I’ve done. Suddenly his face softened, and his head dropped.

  “Unless…” He didn’t look up. “Unless you don’t want this?” He cleared his throat and pulled his eyes back up to mine. “If you don’t want me, then I’ll leave you alone.” I heard a slight touch of pain in his voice.

  Was he saying that he wanted me? Does he want me? He doesn‘t know me.

  “You don’t even know me.” I shifted my body away from him.

  “I know you.” His words were quick as he grabbed my thighs, stopping me from moving too far from him.

  “Really?” I challenged. “What’s my father’s name?” I raised a brow at him.

  “Richard.” He looked smug.

  I wrinkled my brow and bit my lip.

  “Favorite color?”

  He smirked.

  “Blue.” He put his hand up before I could finish. “You are caring, kind, selfless, stubborn, and a mouthy smart ass. Shall I continue?”

  I gasped lightly.

  “How do you…know all that?”

  He shrugged.

  “I pay attention. Anything else?”

  “Yeah,” I said, cocky. “I work for you. This is somewhat inappropriate, don’t you think?”

  He raised a brow.

  “Fine, you’re fired.” His smug attitude was never ending. “That’s taken care of—” He leaned forward toward me.

  I put my hands up.

  “Uh-uh. That is a direct violation of your custody terms.” His eyebrows knitted close together, and a heavy sigh escaped him.

  “Do you really not feel this between us?” My breathing hitched. He looked up quickly. “You do.”

  “Victoria is more important,” I said, not confirming or denying anything.

  He sat back on his heels with his eyes closed.

  “Yes.”

  “This can‘t happen,” I whispered, watching his body tense with my words.

  “I know,” he agreed sadly.

  I swear a part of me screamed in agony.

  “But,” his voice perked back up. He opened his eyes and looked into mine, “no one has to know.” It was a silent breath as he said it.

  I looked at him, confused.

  “So you want me to be some secret affair?”

  “No, well, yes. Just until I can get Victoria’s custody arrangement taken care of.” He pushed back up onto his knees in front of me and gripped my thighs.

  I shook my head.

  “I, I can’t be that.” I took a deep breath. “It’s too much of a cliché.”

  “Fuck the clichés, Sophia! I want you and you want me. It won’t be like this forever, just for a while.” His grip tightened on my thighs, and I flinched at the pain. He realized what he was doing and let go.

  “I, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know,” I whispered and was finally able to pull away from him. As I stood up, he did too.

  “It’s late.” My voice was so flat I barely recognized it.

  From behind me, he sighed heavily.

  “Good night, Dr. Bishop,” I choked before walking into my bedroom and closing the door behind me. Tears began to form. I went straight to the bathroom for shower therapy.

  I stood under the hot water until it ran out, but my brain couldn’t shut off. I cried half of the time I was in the shower while my body still tingled from his touch. I was angry and disappointed with myself for jeopardizing Victoria’s future. But there was also the longing and anguish from the need and want for Dr. Bishop. Ilene’s slurred words came back to haunt me as I towel dried my body and hair.

  “Another live-in whore. Collin, really, you don’t need this trash working for you.”

  I flinched. She was right.

  The next morning, I slept until almost eleven. When I finally realized the time, it dawned on me that Victoria would be home in just a few hours. I got up, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen for coffee. Thoughts of the previous night were pushed into the closet of denial and locked up tight. When the coffee’s aroma met my nose before I entered the kitchen, I should have been on guard. I stopped short of the breakfast counter and focused in on the person sitting at the counter.

  Before I could make a quiet exit she looked over her shoulder. She snorted and turned back to the counter. I glared at her back.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Bedford.”

  I watched her tense up before spinning around stiffly, her eyes ablaze with primal ferocity.

  “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

  Oops, I didn’t even think about that.

  “I apologize,” I offered sincerely. “I honestly didn’t –”

  “I don’t want your apologies,” she growled at me. “In fact, I don‘t want to be in the same room with you. So get out!” she screamed.

  At first I was going to comply, but something inside of me lit on fire.

  “No.” I walked toward the coffee pot. While adding the milk and sugar, I heard the stool screech against the marble floors.

  “What did you say to me?” She stalked toward me.

  “Allison, I realize you are having a difficult time right now, but I’m not going to leave this room simply because you command me to. Now that I have my coffee, I will leave you to yourself.” I nodded and headed for the doorway.

  Something hit me in the back, but I didn’t realize it was the magazine Allison had been reading until I looked down at it on the flo
or.

  “How dare you!” she screeched. “I’ll have you fired for this!”

  “If that is what you wish,” I sneered back at her before turning to the door.

  Then I heard a smash and spun quickly. Allison’s coffee mug shattered on the floor at her feet. The remnants of her coffee puddled around the ceramic shards and her fluffy pink slippers.

  “Oh, Ms. Allison, did you harm yourself?” Mrs. Baker ran in and observed the damage.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped, and Mrs. Baker stopped halfway toward her.

  “I, I’ll just get this cleaned up.” Mrs. Baker left but quickly returned with a dustpan and a mop.

  Allison and I were locked in a stare down, neither of us backing down.

  “I suggest you pack your things!” she seethed at me.

  “Very well,” I spat.

  “I can‘t believe Collin hasn‘t dismissed you yet! My god, you tried to seduce my husband and now you are working your gold-digging ways into my brother!” She was panting from the exertion of her screaming.

  I took two steps closer to her and set my coffee cup on the table nearest to me.

  “I told you before – I didn‘t try to do anything with your husband and I never would,” I snarled. “I’m not a gold digger and do not want any of your family’s money, especially your brother’s. So back the hell off!” My own fiery glare met hers.

  “I hate you! Everything was fine until you showed up!” She lunged for me, and Mrs. Baker screamed.

  We hit the marble floor and my coffee cup shattered next to us. I grabbed her flailing arms and held them to her sides while she struggled and screamed with all her might.

  “Let go of me! I hate you! I hate you!” She pulled herself up and drew her knees to her chest. “I hate you! I hate you! Why did you do it?” She sobbed and wrapped her arms around her shins, rocking slowly back and forth on the chilled floor. “I hate that you did this to us!” Her sobs sent ripples of pity through me. For some reason I knew she wasn‘t talking about me anymore. Maybe she never was.