Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

“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.

He sits up never letting go of my lips until he pulls my shirt off. I moan with the touch of his mouth on my breasts, arching my back into him. He fists my hair and tugs hard while assaulting every inch of my skin from breasts to lips. I lace my fingers through his hair and rock my pelvis against him. A vague memory of my intentions to deny him as a punishment fades into oblivion as he leans me back on the couch and removes his boxer briefs. He doesn’t wait. The animal in Oliver takes over. Pushing my right knee up toward my shoulder he sinks into me. We both moan.

He pauses, looking at me with such intensity, then pulls back and slams into me, over and over. I want this feeling to last, but my body is in desperate search for a release and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I bite my bottom lip with blood-drawing intensity and thrash my head back and forth willing myself to hold on just a little bit longer. Oli takes my hand and sticks my fingers in his mouth, sucking them and swirling his tongue around them. Then he moves my hand between us. I circle my fingers, slick with his saliva, over my clitoris. Closing my eyes I imagine it’s his tongue. He picks up his pace and my fingers circle faster. His lips find mine and we both fall over the edge together, our moans muffled and captured by our deep kiss.

“I love you … just so … completely.”

His words grab me and hold me in another dimension that’s beyond the reach of the rest of the world. It’s our world where time stands still, yet together we grow and connect, our love intertwining into something so beautiful.

“My love for you, Oli, has no depths. It’s effortless and forever,” I whisper with tears in my eyes. The emotional impact of the night has caught up to the moment, and the infinite love I have for Oliver is overwhelming.

Bliss … it’s all I see in his soft, endearing smile. We cocoon ourselves in the blanket and fall asleep. Our paths to each other have been brutal and unforgiving, but I would do it all over again if it meant I’d end up in these same arms.

Oliver

Rosenberg came to visit two weeks ago … and he’s still here. Vivian’s parents were going to be out of town for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary. I’ve offered to drive Rosenberg back to Hartford, but Vivian hasn’t wanted me to go without her, and she’s been too busy to go. She also hasn’t moved back in yet. However, she’s been kind enough to leave Rosenberg with me to keep me company. How thoughtful!

When she’s not working at the greenhouse, she’s helping Alex and her mom plan for the wedding. I can’t help but wonder if Vivian has the white gown ’til-death-do-us-part dream. She’s never mentioned it and neither have I. My life is still preoccupied with the demons behind that door that’s still locked. Hence the reason Vivian is not living here.

Then there’s the incessant phone calls and texts from Doug, pleading with me to come to Portland. Most of the time I let it go to voicemail, but as of lately, I’ve been answering just to tell him to stop calling, then I hang up. His persistence and the desperate tone of his pleas cinches the already existent knot in my stomach. I feel like he’s a ticking bomb ready to ruin my life like his daughter tried to do.

“Rosenberg? Oli?” Vivian calls, and in that order, as I pull the lasagna out of the oven. That fluff ball rates way above me; it’s pathetic and embarrassing.

“He’s on the couch licking his balls.”

She comes up behind me and slides her hands up under the front of my shirt. “And you?”

“I can’t bend that far. I tried the other day, hoping you’d love me as much as the mutt, but I just can’t quite reach.”

She giggles with her lips pressed to my back. “I mean what are you doing?”

“Making dinner.”

She rakes her nails down my chest as I slice the French loaf. “I can see that, silly. It just looks like a lot of food for the two of us.”

“I know, we’re having company.”

“Oh, who?”

“Your parents. They’re taking Rosenberg home tonight since you’ve been too busy to go with me to take him back.”

I glance over my shoulder to see the look on her face. Wide eyes and a gaping mouth … just as I suspected.

“You called them? About Rosenberg?”

“I called them to see if they wanted to have dinner with us. I just assume they’ll take Rosenberg home with them. Why wouldn’t they?”

“I … well … it’s just …”

I turn and lean against the counter with my arms crossed over my chest. “You seem to be stammering. Do you have something to tell me?”

She releases a heavy sigh. “Rosenberg is my dog. I was supposed to bring him with me when I moved to Cambridge, but I couldn’t have him at Alex’s since I wasn’t living there, so to speak, and my parents have been asking for the past two years when I’m going to take him. My dad’s threatened to drop him off at the local shelter and I don’t think he really would, but some days I’m not so sure.”

She’s not giving me a press release. When we picked Rosenberg up two weeks ago I had this feeling he wouldn’t be returning home. It may have been the two thirty-pound bags of dog food, or all three of his little beds, or the large basket filled with every toy he owns that filled my car. Regardless, there were red flags everywhere and I’m not as stupid as Vivian apparently thinks I am.

“So he’s staying here?”

She nods.

“Indefinitely?”

Another nod.

“So you live with Alex and Rosenberg lives with me?”

Shrug. Pause. And finally … another nod.

I turn back around and start chopping lettuce for the salad. “Well, then it’s a good thing that my parents are the ones coming for dinner and not yours.”

“Oliver Konrad!” Her voice shrieks behind me. “You tricked me, set me up just to watch me squirm.”

“Wow, it must feel maddening to have someone trick you into something. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

Vivian smacks my ass.

“Damn, woman! You’re always asking for it.” I set the knife down and lunge for her. She squeals and runs into the living room. The only thing separating us is the couch with her fluff ball on it yippity-yapping.

“It was just a joke. I was being playful.”

Her plea for leniency falls on deaf ears. “I know. I like jokes, and I like to play too.”

Vivian’s eyes dart from left to right. It’s a fun cat and mouse game. I’m toying with her because she has no idea that I could hurdle this couch and have her pinned to the floor before she could so much as blink.

“You’re burning the bread!”

I look behind me and she Carl Lewises her way around to the entry. I’m on her tail, chastising myself for being so gullible with her burning-bread decoy.

“Oli!” she screams just as the doorbell rings. Leaping toward the door, she opens it and squeezes outside hiding behind my unsuspecting parents. They look at each other then at me.

“Mouse in the house?”

“Not a mouse! Oliver’s trying to spank me.”

Oh, for the love of Pete! Why is she always sharing this information with my parents?

“Oliver.” My dad cocks his head to the side while my mom purses her lips to control her grin.

They step inside, still shielding Vivian from me. “This is odd behavior considering we never spanked you when you were a child.” My mom puts her arm around Vivian.

I squint at Vivian wearing her smirky face, all huddled into my mom. “I have to finish up with dinner. Help yourselves to some wine or beer.”

“When did you get a dog?” my dad asks.

“I didn’t. In fact, I’m not sure why he’s here. Some sort of squatter, I guess.”

“Rosenberg is my dog.” Vivian scoops him up and nuzzles her nose into his fur. “He came for a visit and when I saw how Oli took an instant liking to him, I didn’t have the heart to send him back to my parents’.”

My dad rests his hand on my shoulder while I cut the lasagna. “Funny, I didn’t realize you were a dog fan.”

I give him a sideways glance. “Funny, neither did I.”

I don’t know if my dad knows what it means to be pussy-whipped, but whether he knows it or not, it’s what his grin says.

Dinner is filled with light conversation, good food—thanks to yours truly—and sexy glances between me and Vivian. Banter is our foreplay. The sassier she gets, the more I want to thrust her on the counter, spread her wide, and indulge in her body until she’s screaming my name. At least that’s tonight’s fantasy keeping me semi-erect throughout dinner.

“Thanks for bringing the strawberry-rhubarb cobbler. It’s my favorite.” Vivian winks at my mom as she takes a bite then pulls the spoon across her lips with slow seduction. I’m fully erect now.

“When do classes start?” My dad changes the subject, probably because her sensuality with the spoon doesn’t go unnoticed by him either. After all, he’s still a guy.

“Ten days and I’m so excited!”

“She already has her bag packed.” I squeeze her leg under the table.

“What can I say? I’ve always loved school. I was the girl who got the perfect attendance award at the end of the year. I was student body president, on student council, the yearbook team, and all the fundraisers I helped organize raised the most money.”

“I’m in love with a financial geek.”

Vivian elbows me and my parents laugh. “I’m not a geek…” she shrugs and takes another bite of her cobbler “…okay, I might be a little geeky.”

“Well, we look forward to watching you blossom.” My mom reaches across the table and squeezes Vivian’s hand.

I can speak from experience. Watching my girl known as, Flower, bloom in my presence has been life changing.

* * *

Vivian

Four days. I’m giddy with excitement. Alex and Sean think I’m crazy, but they’ve been enjoying the college life for two years. They’re the Disney World employees just showing up for another day’s work. I’m the five-year-old waiting in line for the gates to open to the Magic Kingdom.

“How are the bachelorette party plans coming along?” Sean asks while lying on the floor with Rosenberg snuggled onto his chest.

“Why? Are you jealous that Alex is going to have a kick-ass party while Kai, at best, pays for a skanky stripper old enough to be your mom to jiggle her wrinkled cleavage in your face while porn plays in the background, and he serves you and your friends warm beer from a keg?”