Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

I look all around us, feeling a little nervous when the realization hits me. He drops his shorts and boxer briefs and steps out of them.

“Oli!” My eyes bug out. “Oh my God, you’re not seriously going to—”

His lips crash against mine as he pulls up my dress and lifts me up pressing my back against Chance’s truck. I’m still sans panties and before I can even catch my breath, he plunges into me. “Oh God!”

His fullness drains my lungs, and he doesn’t give me a second to acclimate before he lifts me up and lets me fall back onto him. Pinning me against the truck with his body, his hands slide to my breasts. His thumbs dip under the material and rub over my taut nipples.

“Is this how you imagined it?” His breath scorches against my neck as he sucks and bites at my skin.

“Yes …” I moan, meeting him thrust for thrust while holding onto his bare shoulders and digging the heels of my feet into his hard, muscular ass. I arch my back and he exposes my nipple sucking it into his mouth. “Oli!” He drags it through his teeth and repeats with the other side.

“Harder!” What the hell? Did I just yell that?

His mouth moves back to mine as he grips my hips and slams me onto him, hitting the most sensitive spot. I rock my pelvis, finding the perfect edge of pleasure as my clit ebbs and flows against his skin with the sensual tide of his pelvis.

“You’re everything,” he murmurs against my lips while taking my hands above my head and interlacing our fingers. “No take backs…” he speeds up his pace “…not … ever.” I squeeze his hands and whimper into his mouth as fireworks explode in the most incredible birthday celebration ever. He stills, keeping me pinned to the truck. “Oh dear God that was … fucking incredible.” His labored breath washes over my skin and my head collapses onto his shoulder.

“Happy Birthday to me.” I giggle.

He eases me to my feet and opens the driver’s side door to the truck. “Here.” There’s a wad of napkins in his hand. “I don’t think gravity is going to be your friend.”

I grimace with a little embarrassment, taking the napkins and wiping between my legs. He bends down to pick up his shorts and briefs.

“Wait.”

He looks up.

“Just stand there a minute.” I grin and let my eyes explore his naked body and boots. Firm muscles bronzed by the sun, messy copper hair, brilliant blue eyes, and those abs … I could run my tongue over them and give myself another orgasm. Oliver is so sexy it’s not even fair.

He tilts his head to the side, waiting for my eyes to find his again. “Are you done?” I wet my lips and smirk. “Not really, but I’ll finish the tour later.”

He pulls on his briefs and shorts. “You just want me for my body. Do you know how it makes me feel when I see you looking at me like eye candy? I’m a person, you know, with real feelings.”

“You’re right. I do just want you for your body, and if you don’t stop getting your pretty face scarred up, I’m going to have to throw a brown bag over your head when we’re having sex.”

“Get in the car before I swat your ass, birthday girl.”

Did he just threaten to spank me? “You’re all talk, Mr. Konrad.” I look back while sashaying to the car.

He looks at his watch. “We still have ten minutes, Ms. Graham. I think that’s plenty of time to rosy up that fine ass of yours.”

I stop and look over the top of the car at him as he pulls on his shirt while flashing me a suggestive raise of his brows.

“What do you mean we have ten minutes? Are we being timed?”

“You could say that.” Oliver lifts a leg up and pulls off one boot then the other before tossing them in the trunk and retrieving his shoes.

“Get in … We’ll save the corporal punishment for later.”

I slide in the seat and glare at him. “Who’s timing us?”

Oliver starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. “Chance.”

I gasp. “You told Chance?”

He grins. “I told him I needed to borrow his truck for twenty minutes no questions asked, and I also needed him to keep Maggie occupied inside during those twenty minutes.”

“Did you tell him why?”

“Sure. I told him I needed it to do a favor for my neighbor before I left town with you.”

“But … I … when did you call him?”

“My God, you’re full of questions. I called him after I sent you out to the car. That’s when I grabbed my boots as well.” He looks over at me. “What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. I just love you. That’s all.”

He holds my hand, circling his thumb over my skin. He’s so beautiful and easy to love. I know this same strong hand holds my heart and with the slightest flinch he can crush it.

“I love you too.” He gives me another glance. Honesty radiates from his soft smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes every time he looks at me. I try to imagine the things those eyes have seen because they radiate the emotion from a thousand lifetimes. Sometimes all I see in the depths of his blue eyes are oceans of unshed tears and a permanent void that was once filled by something … someone very special.

Oliver

I’m not sure who that guy was back at the greenhouse. Exhibitionist is not a word I’ve ever used to describe myself. The man I am with Vivian is not the same guy that came home from Portland, or even the same guy that left Boston over three years ago. The changes I see in myself are subtle, well … most of the time. Caroline would have shuddered at the idea of sex in any place but our bedroom or the couch. I’m not sure she ever fantasized about me or sex at all. If she did, I’m certain she would never have told me.

Vivian slips off her shoes and rests her feet on the dash. “Is this okay?”

“What?”

“My feet on your dash because you got a funny look when I put them up here.” She wiggles her toes.

“I was just looking at the pads on the bottom of them.”

“Second skin. Alex brought it home last night. Talk about a lifesaver.”

I nod. “I was wondering … Was your reaction the other day typical? I mean, do you often lose it like that in the face of adversity?”

“And by ‘face of adversity’ you mean finding out the man to whom I gave my virginity, and to whom I declared my love, is married? If that’s what you mean then yes, my reaction would be typical—irate, out of control, somebody’s going to die. Now, the answer to your other question, ‘do I often lose it ’ would be no. So don’t lie to me anymore, keep your dick in your pants except when I request you take it out, and don’t ever wear a cowboy hat in the bedroom. If you can follow those simple rules, you shouldn’t have any problem staying on my good side.”

“Cowboy hat? I take it you’re not a country fan.”

“It’s an embarrassing story that I don’t need to think about right now.” She turns on the radio. “Ooo, I like this song. Gotye, ‘Somebody That I Used to Know.’”

She wails out a few lines about being screwed over then she giggles as I shake my head and change the station.

“Oh, leave it. How perfect …” The same cringe-worthy voice goes into seductive lyrics about big birthday balloons.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Katy Perry?” She yells in a whiny voice as I switch stations again.

“Katy’s great. You, my love, sound like a donkey in labor.”

“Oh my gosh! You shit! I can’t believe you …” She punches my shoulder then folds her arms across her chest and stares out her window.

“What? You just told me not to lie to you, to keep my dick in my pants, and not wear a cowboy hat. What rule did I violate?”