Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

I look up at him, my body tingling, heart pounding. He rests his hands on my shoulders and turns me toward the desk. Placing his hand flat on my back, he nudges me forward until I’m bent over his desk, resting on my elbows.

I hear the clink of his belt buckle as his pants fall to the floor. I squirm as he pulls down my panties. Looking over my shoulder at him, I grin, but his face is stone.

He steps his leg between mine, forcing me to widen my stance. I tense as his right hand touches the bare skin of my ass.

He rubs small circles. “Would you say you’ve been naughty or nice this year, Miss Graham?”

I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until my answer comes out as a timid squeak. “Nice.”

Smack!

“Shit!” I yell as my mind races to catch up. Holy crap! He just spanked me! It was hard but not painful, and my reaction was from the shock of it, not the feeling.

“Now see…” he rubs the same area he just hit “…I disagree. Looking back, I recall several incidents which landed you on the naughty list.”

“Oli …”

“Now, now …” I close my eyes as I feel his lips on my back. “In the spirit of the holiday, I’m still going to grant you your wish.”

“What’s tha—ahhhh!”

He slams into me then stills. “Me,” he whispers in my ear.

And then it begins—the slapping of our skin, labored breaths and desperate moans, the squeak of the desk, and eventually my loud scream of ecstasy.

“I can’t believe you spanked me,” I mumble against Oliver’s lips between kisses as we ride the elevator up to his hotel room.

“I can’t believe you liked it so much.”

“What?” I shove his chest as he chuckles.

He shrugs. “You did. I watched your face while I did it and after the initial five seconds of shock, I saw the corners of your sexy little lips turn up into a smile.”

“It was a grimace, you idiot! The corners of a person’s lips curl up when they grimace too, not just when they smile. Jeez, you’re a sadist.”

The elevator doors open and I stomp off with purpose leaving Oliver behind with my suitcase.

“Left,” Oliver says as I come to the T-intersection of the hall.

I turn left like I already knew that—although of course I didn’t.

“Back here,” he says with a chuckle as he slides his key into the door of a room I passed ten strides ago.

I stop and let out a sigh then turn and sulk back to the door Oli’s holding open for me.

“You liked it,” he whispers with a taunting edge to his words as I walk inside the room.

“Shut up! I did not.”

He scoops me up eliciting a squeal then tosses me on the bed and straddles my body. “So what brings you to the West Coast, Ms. Graham?”

We had sex on his desk, got dressed, cuddled in his chair, had sex in his chair, got dressed, then made out like teenagers on the drive to the hotel. What we haven’t done is talk about … anything.

“Sex. I flew in for sex.” I look at the imaginary watch on my wrist. “I fly back out in an hour.”

“Funny girl, huh?” He pins my hands above my head and kisses me.

“God … I’ve missed you.” There, I’ve said it. I miss him, all the time—every hour, every minute, every second. Now how do I tell him to make things right and come home to me?

“Well, not anymore. You stole my surprise by showing up here.” He wiggles his brows. “Not complaining. I’m coming home the day before the wedding … for good.”

I try to make my outward smile hide my inward sadness. Oliver doesn’t know that I already knew he was planning on coming home. He also doesn’t know that it breaks my heart that all his time here in Portland was for nothing.

“Well, say something!”

I open my mouth then shut it. “That’s amazing!”

“Vivian, my love…” he shakes his head “…remember, you can’t lie worth shit. My mom told you, didn’t she?”

I grimace and nod. Oli flops over on the bed next to me. “God! Typical shrink. They only keep your secrets if you pay them.”

I laugh. “Shrink? That’s your mom you’re talking about.”

“Well, either she’s terrible at keeping secrets or you hypnotize people with your mesmerizing eyes until they tell you all their secrets.” He turns on his side facing me. “I’ve gotten lost in them many times, it could go either way, so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Whatever.” I look around the hotel room and see if I can make my next statement more believable. “So, why the hotel room?”

“Oh, Doug and Lily were having family in for the holiday and since I was going to be leaving soon anyway, I just decided to get a hotel room.”

I’m not sure if Oli’s a good liar or not. I knew the truth before I asked so I can’t say for sure.

“Well, lucky us.” I roll on top of him and yank his tie that’s hanging in a loose knot around his neck. “I like you in a tie. I’m thinking for my next birthday, just a tie and boots … in public, of course.”

“Are you trying to get me arrested?”

“Oh, Oli …” I work the buttons of his shirt. “You’re such an enigma, all stuffy and we’re-not-having-sex-in-public one minute and the next you’re screwing me in an alley or bending me over your desk and spanking me. I think you’re a bad boy by nature and a bore by nurture.”

“A bore?” He slides his hands under my shirt and unfastens my bra.

“Yes, you grew up with money and manners—boring.”

He laughs while sitting up and pulling off my shirt. “I guess I’ll have to try and be less of a bore.” Bending down he sucks in my nipple and bites it, hard!

Oliver

Vivian coming all this way to see me is the best gift ever. When we’re together the world is perfect again. It doesn’t matter that we’re not with our families, or that we wake up in a hotel room on Christmas morning. She’s all I need.

“So since I fly out tomorrow are we staying in bed all day?” Vivian asks as she feeds me an orange wedge, part of our Christmas morning room service in bed.

“It’s where we’ve been for the past two days. Works for me.” I smirk, sucking the juice off her finger.

“What time will you arrive in Boston on Friday?”

I “accidentally” drop a dollop of Greek yogurt on her nipple. She rolls her eyes as I clean it up with just my tongue. “Five Boston time.”

“So you’ll make it for rehearsal dinner?”

“I should unless I get delayed.”

She nods and stares at me with lines of tension along her face, as if she’s trying to figure something out.

“Are you going to see Caroline today?”

Her question blindsides me. “No.”

I feel her judgmental eyes on me, so I focus on the toast I’m buttering to perfection.

“You can. I’ll be fine here by myself for a while.”

“No need.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

I shrug wishing she’d drop it. “It’s been a little while.”

“So she’s doing better?”

“She’s in a mental hospital with a family history of depression and doped up on a million meds. It’s only going to get so good, Vivian.” I close my eyes and sigh. “I’m sorry …” I detest the unnerving feeling of anger that overpowers my resistance.

She rests her comforting hand on mine. I open my eyes and look at her. I hate lying to her. I hate Caroline for putting me in this position. Why can’t she just get better and let me go or stop fucking failing at her pathetic suicide attempts. “I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving.”

“Why?”

What the hell?

“What do you mean why? I just told you I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving and your reaction is why?”

Vivian’s eyes widen as my volume escalates.

“You should be shocked or angry, but you’re not. You knew didn’t you?”

“Oli—”

“Don’t Oli me, Vivian. You knew, didn’t you?”

She shakes her head.

“Who told you? Did Caroline’s parents call you? Did my mom find out? She told you, didn’t she?”

She continues to shake her head.

“Tell me!” I swat the tray of food off the bed sending the plates and glasses crashing against the wall and floor. Vivian cups her hand over her mouth as tears … fucking pity tears fall from her eyes.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me to come home?”

“You weren’t ready.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I stand, slip on my pants, and pace the floor, rubbing my throbbing temples. “Ready for what?” My voice breaks.

She kneels on the bed, pulling the sheet up to her chest. “Ready to deal with your past. Oli … you kept the pillow that was used to …” She can’t say it. Of course she can’t. It’s too morbid.

I shake my head. It feels like the whole fucking world is caving in on me. What did I do? I’m the victim. She killed Melanie and left me with nothing. Why does everyone think I’m the one with the problem? I hate her … she’s turning everyone I love against me, making me seem like the crazy one.

“She killed her, not me.”

“Oliver—”

“No, she killed her. I was working …” I shake my head. “I wasn’t there.”

“Oliver—”

“She did it. She took everything from me. God … I hate her so much!”

“Oliver, stop!”

I hold out my hand to keep her from touching me. “No. Why is this happening? Why is everyone blaming me?”

“Oliver, please …” I hear Vivian’s sobs, but I don’t feel her. I don’t feel anything.

“What does that mean?” I squeeze my eyes closed. “Tell me! What does that mean?” I open my eyes and Vivian is reaching for her phone. No fucking way. She’s not calling anyone, not until she tells me. I grab her phone and throw it into the wall shattering her screen. She’s shaking like a leaf. What’s her problem? No one’s making her feel crazy. No one’s telling her to deal with her past.