Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

“No.” I smack her hand away.

“A blow job?”

“What? No!”

“A hand job.”

“No!” I tug on her hand to get going but she yanks her hand away.

“You could go down on me.”

“Vivian Graham! Let’s go!”

An eye roll and a pouty lip, but she follows. “You are so getting replaced with my new vibrator.”

Vivian

One of the things I love about Oliver is his maturity. One of things I hate about Oliver … his maturity. Come on, it’s one o’clock in the morning. Who is ever going to see us in a dark alley? Good grief, he’s walking down the sidewalks of Boston in his underwear like a damn Diesel model and he expects me to keep my hands off the merchandise? We’re about two blocks from Chance’s and he’s banned me from so much as holding his hand—possibly because I try to rub it against my girlie parts to entice him.

“My feet hurt, Oli.”

“We’re almost there.”

“I can’t make it.”

“Yes you can.”

“You’re going to have to carry me, babe.”

He stops and turns around. I’m a few feet back, shoulders sagging, back hunched—total puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but behave.”

I reel in my enthusiasm, releasing just a small appreciative grin. “Thanks, babe.” I jump on his back, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep a moan of pleasure from escaping as my bare, wet sex rubs against his flesh. He has to feel it. I’m not just moist and sticky, I’m a dang Slip N’ Slide.

His long strides turn into a rhythm. Friction. Release. Friction. Release .

“Oh God …”

“What?”

My forehead falls to his shoulder. “Nothing.” My voice is breathy. I try to keep my body still, letting him do all the work … all the unintentional teasing. But there’s nothing I want more than to rock my hips into him. I have never been this horny. I picture us on my birthday, him slamming up into me over and over against Chance’s truck.

“Yes!” The word escapes before I can stop it.

“Yes, what?”

“I see his bu-building … We’re almost th-there.”

“Think you can walk now?”

“No! More … I mean … keep going.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He releases my legs and I almost cry as I drop to my feet.

“You have sweat on your brow. Why are you sweating? I was the one carrying you, not the other way around.”

I squeeze my legs together.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom?”

I grimace and shake my head. “I was really close to … and now you’ve left me hanging and—”

“Close to?” He reaches around and feels his back. “Were you getting off on me?”

My grimace intensifies as my skin takes on heat and a nice rosy color.

He rubs his fingers together. This is monumentally embarrassing. “Well … did you finish?”

I shake my head.

“Were you close?”

I nod.

He turns. “Hop back on then.”

“What? No … no way. I’m not going to just hop back on and hump your back the rest of the way down the street.”

Oliver shrugs. “Suit yourself. I was only trying to help.” A cocky smirk plays across his face.

I send him my meanest glare. “If you really wanted to help me you would have left me with an exfoliated back from the brick alleyway wall and a sated vagina.”

“Oh for crying out loud, not this again. I’ll do you as soon as we get home. Deal?”

Why the nerve …

I breeze past him. “Think again, buddy! You won’t be doing me until I’m good and ready. And that won’t be anytime soon!” It will be soon.

After streaking our way up the desolate alley, Oliver stands right in front of me. I move a little to the right, he moves a little to the right. I move left, he moves left. Finally, I shove him.

“What are you doing?”

“My brother doesn’t need to see you in that.” He knocks on the door.

“It’s dark out, Oli. So unless he pours a bucket of water on me, I don’t think you have any reason to worry.”

Oliver knocks again, this time a little louder.

“Dude! What the fuck?” Chance looks like a bear emerging from its cave after a long winter. A bear with a loosely tied sheet around its waist. “Where are your clothes, Bro?”

“It’s a long story so don’t ask, but we got locked out. I need you to grab your key to my place and drive us home.”

“Well I would except my truck is still parked along the street in front of your place, dip shit. I figured you’d pick me up for work in the morning. Don’t you remember? We had too much to drink? I took the T. Did you two walk here?” Chance looks at me for a second too long and Oliver tries to shield me from his sight.

“Yes, we had no other choice. Alex is gone and so is the spare key to their place. Obviously neither one of us has a phone on us, so we had to walk here.”

“Why didn’t you drive my truck. Would have been faster and less … streak-showish.”

“I don’t have your keys.” Oliver pushes him aside, grabs my hand, and drags me in the house. He tosses me a blanket from the couch. “Cover up,” he mouths.

I roll my eyes and wrap it around me.

Chance shuts the door. “The keys are in the truck, under the floor mat where I always keep them.”

“You don’t lock your truck?” I question.

Oliver drops his head. “He never locks it … the idiot.”

“I’m the idiot? I think my brother, who knows I always keep my truck unlocked with the keys under the mat, is the idiot for traipsing his half-naked girlfriend through the streets of Boston in the middle of the night.”

“Someone was a little muddled in the head tonight,” I murmur.

Oliver’s head snaps up. “You’re still trying to pin this one on me?”

I give him the if-the-shoe-fits smirk and head tilt.

“ Hey, Oli … I’m hungry. Hey, Oli … let’s get some cookies. Hey, Oli … we don’t need our clothes. Hey, Oli … don’t be such a spoilsport. Who’s going to see us at this hour? ” Oliver mimics me with his best high-pitched voice.

Chance laughs. “I’m going back to bed. You two can have the spare bedroom, or there are blankets in my closet if you get your ass kicked to the couch, Bro.”

“Thanks, Chance.” I smile, but Oli ignores us both.

“So … I’m going to use the bathroom then go to bed.”

Oliver grabs my blanket from me, wraps it around himself with his lips in a firm line as he lies down on the couch without a single word. Yep, he’s peeved.

“You can sleep in the guest room with me.”

He doesn’t say anything. Clearly, him sleeping on the couch is my punishment, not his. I sulk up the stairs, use the bathroom, and crawl into the lonely guest bed.

My monkey brain won’t let me get to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about Oliver downstairs, mad at me. Then memories of how our whole evening started begin to replay in my head. Caroline killed Melanie … Suffocated her with a pillow … the pillow in that locked room. I remember the pain in his eyes, the feel of his watery emotions on my cheek, and I still hear the echo of his sobs. And now, I go to him.

It’s quiet down here. I can’t tell if he’s asleep or not. I tiptoe my way through the family room to the couch. Just as I start to contemplate whether I should say something or tap his shoulder, he lifts his arm holding up the blanket—inviting me in. The room is dimly lit by the light from the fish tank, reflecting shadows in his eyes. We stare at each other, my body resting on his.

His lips twitch and I think he’s about to say something, but instead he kisses me.

Match. Strike. Flame.