Chapter 17 #2
Dirty thoughts of her run through my mind as I glide my hand up and down my length.
Her pouty lips wrapped around my cock. Her nail scratches down my back, marking me the same way my hickeys would on her delicate body.
Most importantly, those Bambi eyes looking into mine as I bring her to the edge of ecstasy.
“Fuck, Vivienne.” I pick up the pace, unable to control myself.
Guilt riddles my chest when I finally come.
I shut the water off and wrap a towel around my waist before leaving the en suite.
Underwear, sweatpants, and a T-shirt—I’m on a mission. I usually sleep in boxers, but I don’t think it would be appropriate or safe for me to be shirtless around that woman.
“Oh my God!”
My eyes dart to Vivienne’s shocked wail just in time to see her tumble off the bed, landing with a loud thud.
A hand pops up from the other side. “I’m okay! Don’t worry about me. And I beg you, please don’t come over.”
My brows knit in confusion—for more than one reason. First, the madness that must be running through her mind if she thinks I wouldn’t check on her. Second, since when do twenty-six-year-olds casually fall off beds? That hasn’t happened to me since I was three.
I round the bed despite her wishes, stopping short when I see her lying on the floor—hair splayed in every which way as she gives me a lopsided smile and two thumbs-up.
The dim light of the table lamp is barely bright enough to illuminate the soft features of her face and dilated pupils. She looks embarrassed, like she’d been caught red-handed. But whatever it could be slips through my mind when I see the outline of her nipples straining against my old MIT shirt.
It’s cold this time of year, I try to convince myself. It has nothing to do with the way she might feel about you.
The mantras don’t do their job as my gaze lingers on the sight, wondering how she’d look without the cotton barrier. Eventually, I muster the willpower to turn my head in the other direction.
One time, I said.
Clearly, it wasn’t going to be enough.
“Are you okay?” I ask, trying my hardest to focus on her face. That plan falls apart when my eyes trace the bare skin of her legs. With no shorts on, nothing is left to the imagination. Long. Toned. Shapely. They’d look so good wrapped around my waist or lying on my shoulders.
Snap out of it, Nate.
“Uh-huh.” Vivienne stands, deliberately avoiding my eyes as she looks anywhere but at me.
I’ll take that as my cue to leave.
I grab what I need, not caring whether the colors complement one another, and change as quickly as possible in the confines of my new safe space—the bathroom.
“I’m heading to the kitchen for a cup of water. Do you want anything?” I walk out to find Vivienne rooted where I last left her.
She’s trying to play it cool, pretending to study the dresser behind me, but her gaze keeps shifting—trailing down my body, and lingering too long on the front of my sweatpants before snapping back up.
She really isn’t making this any easier on me.
“I’m good. Thank you.” Vivienne gives me another crooked smile. And while I want to question her sanity, I’ve got no right when I’m losing my mind as well.
As soon as I step into the hallway, I blow out a breath of relief. The peace doesn’t last long, though, when I see my mother sneaking out of her bedroom.
Her eyes perk up at the sight of me, and I walk toward her, making sure she stays as far away from Vivienne as possible.
God knows what she’d do if she got hold of her.
“Oh, Nate, such perfect timing. I was coming over to give you this,” Mom says as she hands me a fuzzy red-and-black blanket with all sorts of geometric designs.
“I was on a call with Grandma, and while chatting about how lovely Vivienne is, she gave me clear instructions to give this to you—said this blanket has special powers.” She laughs, shaking her head in amusement.
“What kind of special powers?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
I’ve seen it once before. I just can’t recall when.
“Hard to classify, but she calls it the baby maker.”
The blood drains from my face as my mouth drops open in shock, something that only makes my mom guffaw louder.
Don’t insult your grandmother.
Don’t tell your mother she’s just as crazy.
“Thank you so much, Mom. Tell Grandma I’m infinitely grateful for blessing me with the powers this blanket holds.”
“No problem,” she says with a nonchalant shrug, retreating to her bedroom like she hadn’t insinuated I’d knock up my fake fiancée under her roof.
I chuck the thing to the side, wiping my hands down my sweatpants many times as I make my way to the kitchen.
Forget about normal tap water, I’ll need a priest to turn it holy. Three cups chugged and two prayers begging to spare me from this torture later, I’m on my way back to my personal hell.
I take a deep breath before creaking the door open, determined not to get distracted by the sight of Vivienne or my growing feelings for her when I catch her sleeping on the wooden floor.
Table lights off, legs pulled close to her chest, a spare pillow under her neck, and the baby maker tucked across her body. Her teeth clatter, and a twinge of guilt shoots up to my chest.
We never discussed the sleeping arrangements. There’s only one bed, that much is obvious. But it’s the way she assumed I’d let her take the floor that makes me question my actions toward her this past day.
Without a second thought, I scoop the girl up in my arms, baby maker included, as not to add to her chill.
But being this close to her after avoiding her for so long has its disadvantage—every detail of her face feels all the sharper.
The dark lashes sweeping against her cheeks.
The smooth skin that glows under the pale moonlight.
Parted lips I desperately want against mine.
I place her body under the covers of my bed, tucking her in as tightly as I can. And like everything else she does, it’s hard not to admire.
Vivienne is beautiful, kind, and smart. The woman I’d been waiting for all these years without really knowing it. It’s my luck, or lack thereof, that we get to know each other under these circumstances.
One time. Just one more brush of her skin against my lips.
Despite the alarms blaring in my head, I bend down and kiss her forehead, reveling in the heat that erupts in my chest. And with one last look at her, I take her place on the floor.
My head hits the flat pillow, and my hands instinctively find themselves underneath my neck as I stare up at the ceiling, contemplating what my life has come to. Something I’ve done increasingly more since meeting her.
Sheets rustle quietly from the bed, and a soft groan breaks the silence. I squeeze my eyes shut in denial—she can’t ever know what I did.
“Nate?” Vivienne whispers, her voice laced with a heavy dose of uncertainty. “Are you still up?”
To ignore, or not to ignore?
I settle on the first. Whatever I’m feeling for this girl needs to be swept under the rug—or more accurately, the baby maker—and kept there until the end of this arrangement.
It’s what we agreed on.
It’s what’s right.
“Nate?” she whispers again. “I know you can hear me.”
I let out a sigh, not knowing what I’ll say to this girl when she brings up the topic of me kissing her forehead.
“Nobody makes those noises if they’re asleep. I know you’re ignoring me.”
“I’m not ignoring you,” I mutter under my breath.
“That’s exactly what someone who’s ignoring would say. Not to mention, it’s very defensive and indicative of a fragile male ego.”
I bite down my smile. God help me with this girl.
“I can see you,” she singsongs.
I turn my head to see her long brown hair cascading over the edge of the bed. There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she looks at me, and an even softer smile on her lips.
“Come up here. I can’t let you sleep on the floor.”
“I’m alright over here.”
It’s mighty uncomfortable, but it’s better than being in proximity to the girl I can’t control myself around.
“What will it take to get you up here?”
“Nothing.”
She hums, as if lost in thought. “We can put a pillow fort between us?”
“No.”
“We can sleep with our heads opposite each other?”
“Absolutely not.”
Vivienne nods in agreement. “You’re right, I wouldn’t want your stinky feet all up in my business, anyway.”
I roll my eyes, but the slight smile taking over my face speaks for itself.
“If you don’t get up here, I’ll sleep next to you on the floor. So in the end, it’ll be the same outcome. Only then, we’ll both be cold and waking up with back pain.”
There’s no quick comeback from my end on this one, and I think that’s when she realizes she’s hit the nail right on the head. Vivienne is stubborn. I know with every bone in my body she would follow through with it, but I’m choosing to believe otherwise.
“I’m giving you one last chance to get up here, Nate.”
My heart quickens at the thought of sharing a bed with her. It’ll end badly—that much I know—but I can’t stop the words from leaving my mouth when I hear the rustling of bedsheets.
“Don’t move.”
Vivienne stops getting out of bed, lying back down with a satisfied smile as I get off the floor and make my way over to her.