I stand and take my plate to the kitchen. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’m going upstairs to get ready for work.”
“Vivian?”
I stop midway up the stairs. “Hmm?”
“Is something wrong?”
I don’t know, you tell me!
“Nope. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I turn and sulk my way to the closet.
“Enjoyable, I eat three servings of your cum for breakfast and all you can say is it was enjoyable!” I mumble to myself as I shimmy out of this stupid, itchy, expensive piece of nothing.
I’ve never wanted to lump Oliver into the “typical man” category until today, on his birthday of all days. I can’t even chew his ass out for being so insensitive—maybe tomorrow. I wonder what the waiting period is for yelling at someone for acting stupid on their birthday.
“Let’s go.” I fake a smile as I grab my purse.
“Thanks for breakfast. It was incredible!” He slips on his boots by the front door.
Potatoes and turkey are incredible, but a thirty minute blow job is enjoyable? I’m rethinking my plans for him later. Maybe we’ll order in and I can knit while he scrubs the kitchen floor again. That’s probably enjoyable too. We walk down the front steps and head toward Harvard Square.
“I was thinking of taking you out tonight, but now I’m wondering if you would rather stay in and order takeout?”
He wraps his arm around me. “Sounds perfect.”
Of course it does. Thirty must be the new fifty. I should have gotten him loafers and a cardigan for his birthday. It’s possible I have a bruised ego taunting me. It’s also possible that he’s already bored with me. Maybe Alex is right. Oliver may want to spice things up between us, which seems ridiculous since we are still in the early honeymoon stage of our relationship. I suppose I could pick a few things up and try them out on him tonight. He’s probably had more blow jobs than I care to imagine so this morning was just an extended version of an all too familiar routine.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
Oh nothing. Just making a mental note to Google sex toy shops when I get to work.
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
Our morning is busy, well, at least in the illegal cash sales. Maggie and her VIP customers have spent most of the morning sorting out the fine details of everything that’s wrong with our government—campaign financing … blah, blah, blah … corporate government … blah, blah, blah … and, of course, the need to legalize marijuana.
“Some of your customers don’t look sick anymore, yet they keep coming in. What’s up with that?”
Maggie laughs. “Look at how long I’ve been in remission, but I still smoke a joint before bed every night. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“Are you suggesting I try it?”
“Absolutely! This could be a real kick-ass year for you, Viv. Sex, pot, and Harvard.”
I open a new box of gardening gloves and refill the display. “With my luck it would be sex, pot, jail, and no Harvard.”
“Pish posh, I’ll send home a couple for you to share with your birthday boy tonight. Just don’t smoke them on the subway or your front door steps and you’ll be fine.”
“I sort of had something else planned for tonight. I don’t know if it should be mixed with pot.”
“What’s that, sweetie?”
I giggle and shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to you, but what the hell. I was planning on picking up some toys to try out.”
“Shoot.” She waves her hand at me. “I’ve seen it all … and used most of it too.”
My jaw takes a nosedive to the floor. “What!”
“Don’t look so surprised. Before I was into scarves and wigs I was quite the naughty little minx.”
“Maggie!”
“It’s true. Ask me anything.”
“I-I … well—”
“Are you thinking something geared toward his pleasure or yours?”
“Uh … um …”
“Never underestimate the power and pleasure of a good strap-on penis. I’d recommend a beginner kit and start small unless he has experience in this area. Maybe check with him before you buy anything. They don’t usually allow returns. Oh, don’t forget … lots of lube.”
Is she high? Am I? I can’t imagine how Oliver would react to a text asking him if he’s had a dildo or strap-on penis stuck up his ass, and if so what size can he accommodate?
“Now if you’re thinking something less expensive may I suggest his-and-her pleasure vibrators. Once again, lots of lube especially if you get one for your G-spot. I’m guessing Oliver is pretty well endowed so your little vagina that hasn’t been broken in yet may not easily allow both him and the vibrator at the same time. But once you get both in … wowza! Let me tell you, it’s serious amazballs!”
Oh. My. God! This conversation is not really happening. I’m going to wake up soon with sweat dripping down my body and I’m going to laugh hysterically at this weird dream my mind has conjured up.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll just stick to the weed for tonight. With the no return policy and high price tags, I’d hate to make a hasty decision without checking something like uh … Consumer Reports or Good Housekeeping.”
Maggie hands me the last pair of gloves and I punch them with the pricing gun and slip them on the rack. “Okay, but if you’d like I could see what I have in my basement. I’m sure I have a box or two with a nice assortment of everything. I could throw it all in the dishwasher for a good cleaning and Lysol anything with a battery pack.”
I grin. “We’re good. I’m sure the new stuff is BPA and phthalate free now and then there could be recalls. So … we’ll stick to the weed for tonight.” It’s insane that by this point in our conversation smoking marijuana seems innocent, almost normal, compared to everything else.
“Suit yourself. You know where to reach me if you change your mind.”
Um … yeah, that won’t be happening.
Chapter Eighteen
Crossing Lines
Oliver
I’ve never been the jealous type, until Vivian crashed into my life. Three years for someone my age is a long time to go without sex. Now I’ve been handed this incredible sexual genie in a bottle who turns my fantasies into reality. The problem is … every time she puts my dick in her mouth all I see is Kai. Her mouth on him.
“Hey, birthday boy!” Vivian greets me at the door with an enthusiastic hug and a long sensual kiss. “How was your day?”
“Not as good as this.” I kiss her again. “But it was okay.”
“Hmm, well I have dinner—Indian, and I picked up a cake. I know your mom is going to bake you one tomorrow so I’m not even going to try and compete with her.”
I untie my boots and slip them off then remove my sweaty T-shirt. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Care to join me?”
She stares at my chest and then she does her signature lip lick, like she wants to devour me. Thirty’s not feeling too bad today.
“I’d love to, I mean really love to, but if I do, we both know it won’t be a quick shower and dinner will be cold.” She blows me a kiss from the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
I shrug and turn taking the stairs one slow step at a time while unfastening my jeans and easing them over my hips exposing part of my ass. “Your loss.”
“Nice briefs, babe. At least one of us is wearing underwear today.”
I try to play it cool but damn if she didn’t just beat me at my own game. “Did I mention I’m going to staple them to your ass if you don’t start wearing them?”
“You may have.”
I mumble a few indiscernible expletives and head to the bathroom for a very cold shower. An ocean of thoughts flow through my mind and the chaos in my brain is almost nauseating. I’m uncontrollably in love with Vivian. In such a short amount of time she’s infiltrated my thoughts, cast a spell over my body, and wormed her way into the deepest part of my heart. A day without her would feel like a lifetime without a breath, an eternity without light.
As I pull my T-shirt over my head and comb my fingers through my wet hair, I play with the words in my head. The words that she needs to hear, and she will—soon. I chuckle, but it’s not born of pleasure; it’s pain and utter disbelief of the sadistic irony of what’s to come. What will I say to her parents next week? “Hi, I’m the guy who is crazy about your daughter but as soon as we leave here I’m going to crush her because it’s unlikely that a twenty-two-year-old, even one as smart as your daughter, can wrap her head around the reality of my past.” Yeah, that should go over well.
I spot Vivian shoving her feet into her flip-flops and slinging her purse around her shoulder as I come down the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
She looks up at me and her eyes are red, cheeks tear-stained. “I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
Watery eyes look up at me as I pull her into my arms. “Beth died.” She sobs.
“Who’s Beth?”
“Kai’s sister.”
I tense at the mention of his name.
“Sh-she was in—a car ac-accident.”
“I’m so sorry.” The words come out automatically because I feel her pain and I want to take it away.
“I have to go.” Her broken voice is just above a whisper.
“Where?”
She steps back, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. “Hartford, with Kai. I’m driving him back in his car because he’s in no condition to drive. Alex and Sean will come Sunday and I’ll ride back with them after the funeral on Monday.”
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