Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

“No!” His voice cuts through the air with a sharp edge. “I just … need a minute.”

Everyone has a crazy button and it’s usually hidden like a land mine waiting to be detonated by some poor unsuspecting person who just happens to take a wrong step. Oliver should have watched his step … he just hit mine.

“Absolutely! Take all the minutes you need. I’ll just wait here with my heart on my shoulder because I don’t have a sleeve to wear it on since you picked out these ridiculous string pieces of nothing that leave me completely exposed to the whole fucking world! Or maybe I’ll take a dip in the water and get eaten by sharks since I look like shark bait anyway and you’ll be let off the hook of having to answer one simple question about your past!”

Oliver turns. “Two. Two women before you have seen this view with me—my mom and a girl I dated in college.”

He lifts the top to one of the back seats and takes my sundress out of my bag. I uncross my protective arms as he slips it over my head. Shoulders slumped, head bowed, he pulls me into his arms and we collapse on the seats as the midday sun gets lost in the overcast gathering of clouds. The wind begins to cast a chill upon my skin and Oliver holds me closer, shielding me from the breeze, the world … myself.

“I used to love going to Michigan to visit my grandparents. They had Tupperware and glass containers everywhere filled with candy and cookies. We only had candy at our house on Halloween and Easter, so Chance and I would drain their stash until we were doubled over at the toilet in misery. But by the next morning, we’d be feeling better and ready to raid the pantry, which was stocked with all the good cereals that we saw on TV but rarely got to have. Fruit Loops was my favorite. I’d eat the entire box with a half-gallon of whole milk.” He laughs. “Milk never tasted so good—sugar and FD and C numbers one through a million.”

I turn in his arms and rest my head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, we loved it so it was worth the stomach ache—”

I press my lips to his. He smiles against mine. “I’m sorry too,” he murmurs.

Draping my leg over his hip, I move my hands to his face and deepen our kiss. He slides his hand up my leg and under my dress palming my ass with a firm grasp.

I moan into his mouth, sliding my tongue against his. Oliver draws emotions from me that I never knew existed. I’m the go-with-the-flow girl, a survivor, a lover of life. Burying my emotions, veiling them behind the façade I want people to see is my specialty. But I can’t with Oliver. I want him to see me, all of me, even the ugly. He takes all of it and makes it better.

Oliver’s mouth moves along my jaw as I draw in a deep breath.

“We should throw out the anchor … and go down below.” My words are anxious, my body desperate.

Oliver chuckles while grazing my earlobe with his teeth. “Brilliant idea.”

Fighting the sway of the boat, we navigate the stairs to the bed. I pull my dress over my head and find admiring eyes watching me. I reach for my bikini ties. Oliver shakes his head and I grin. He tugs the hip ties at the same time and then repeats with my top. I don’t give him another second to look at me. With one leap I’m in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist.

He takes two steps and we fall to the bed. The pillows are tossed to the floor as his eager mouth explores my breasts and he works his board shorts over his hips. I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his erection. He sucks in a breath, mouth slack, eyes heavy as I stroke him.

“Oli, I love your body.” I look down to watch him make small thrusts into my hand. His arms, abs, and legs are tense; lean muscles ripple with every move. I push him onto his back and straddle his stomach. “You’re beautiful.” I run my fingers over his chest. “I know you probably don’t like to be called beautiful…” I reach behind and continue to stroke him more “…but you are. You’re flawless.”

His eyes sear me and his jaw clenches as I scoot back and sink onto him. I take it slow, one inch at time as he stretches me. My eyes close with the intensity. He sits up and captures my mouth as our bodies move together. I seek pleasure in his touch as much as I crave giving him pleasure with mine.

“Oh God, sex with you … is so … amazing!” I suck his neck and tug at his hair before finding his lips again and kissing him like it’s the last time we’ll ever kiss.

He moans into me, but no words. He speaks with hands that clench my ass, hips that rock into me again and again, and lips that devour my skin. I’m not chasing my orgasm, I’m basking in this sexual journey, focusing on the way my flesh feels against his. I don’t ever want it to end.

Oliver

I’m in so deep with this woman I don’t know which way is up, and honestly, I don’t care. I could drown in her and die happy. Her passion sucks me into a world I’ve never known. I think it may be Heaven.

“Are you sure you need to sleep in your own bed tonight?” I ask, walking Vivian to her red door.

“Alex is home tonight and I have laundry to do. I’ve been distracted lately and I’ve fallen behind on a few things.” She snakes her arms under mine, resting her head on my chest. “You could stay with me tonight.”

I laugh. “Sleep with you in your twin bed?”

She looks up at me with a grin. “Good night, handsome.”

I stare at her—windblown hair, sun-kissed skin, and freckles that I find innocent and yet incredibly sexy. Then I can’t hold back, so I kiss her until I’m certain she’s no longer standing on her own. It’s not my intention, but every day I feel like that’s what is happening. I’m taking everything she gives and one day it could be too much.

“Good night, Vivian.”

She opens the door then turns back for one more kiss. “Thank you for today. It was perfect.”

I grin and nod.

Lately I have this problem. The grin on my face … it’s permanent. I reach my door and turn back. Vivian and Alex are staring out the window at me. They jump back and shut the blinds. I shake my head. What I’d give to hear that conversation tonight.

Grabbing a glass of water, I head upstairs to bed. I stop and touch my hand to the door. Shame, regret, and so much anger hides behind it. Some days I can justify it in my own twisted way. They’re just things and I know I shouldn’t need them and I probably shouldn’t have them, but I can’t get rid of them. If Vivian ever found out she wouldn’t understand. A rational person doesn’t do this, but I’m not rational … not anymore.

I haven’t opened the door once since I first locked it. Tonight is the night. Vivian has made me stronger. Maybe I don’t need it anymore. Lifting the cobalt vase off the hall console table, I turn it upside down and a lone key falls out. Unlocking both the knob and the dead bolt, I rest my head on the door. God, how did this happen? How did such darkness creep into my life?

I turn the knob like a dial to my heart; the thunder racking my chest becomes more painful with each turn. The door creaks as I inch it open. I close my eyes, the feeling alone is nearly unbearable. I can’t look. One step in, that’s enough. I lean against the wall just inside the door and slide to the ground. The strength I thought I had vanishes. Hugging my knees to my chest, I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, but I can still see it. The hate has swallowed up the love and that makes me hate her even more.

Despite the restless night that will catch up with my body in a few hours, I wake with the sun and muddle my way through my morning routine. Lacing up my leather work boots, I laugh to myself. Who would have thought that I’d trade my three-piece suits and boardroom coffee with the firm’s partners for leather boots and gloves?