“Now hit that button to have him build a wall,” Oliver instructs from beside me in his king-sized bed.
I tap the H key and the character on the screen begins to hammer away. Shaking my head, I give him a perplexed expression. “Hate to get actually dirty but you will spend hours making your online doppelganger do it.”
He lightly chuckles at the same time he shrugs.
“You’re so weird.”
“This from the woman who slept with a piece of bark under her pillow last night.”
“Hey, that medicine woman I met while I was in Cambodia promised it wards off the negative spirits that have been attaching themselves to me lately.”
Spent three days there chatting with this extreme diver and Suzy, our foreign agent specialist. Unfortunately, Azura stayed behind to work on a different project, leaving me alone with ‘How Can We Make You Make Us Profit’ Barbie. She was so busy trying to gage his interest in competitions she missed the beautiful struggle he had growing up. I texted Oliver the entire trip. He originally offered to go when he found out Azura wouldn’t be coming. The proposal hit me with an uncomfortable mix of emotions. I was thrilled over the idea of traveling around the world with him yet disgusted over the notion this was some weird Neanderthal way of keeping tabs on which male figures I was spending my time with. I also wasn’t keen on the idea of him using the trip as a way to declare to his friends that we are indeed just as valid of a pair as they are. Check list comparisons make me queasy. I’m fairly certain those are the negative spirits keeping me up at night. Despite politely denying his wishes to come along, he didn’t seem to pout. We still made the same effort to communicate, though the twelve-hour difference really made us work for it. I’m honestly a little surprised he hasn’t griped once over these past six months at his outrageous phone bill.
“Did she also promise you it would be cheaper if you bought two?”
I flash him my middle finger.
She did, but that doesn’t mean the charm doesn’t work!
“Click the H again to start on the other side,” Oliver advises, his thumb stroking my bare hip. “You’re going to have to move him around each time you want to build a different side.”
Watching the man hammer the wood in place, I sigh, “I am so glad you have your brother’s fiancé to play this game with.”
Oliver chuckles again and sweetly bumps into me. “I’m glad you’re willing to play it with me every once in a while.”
“In exchange for sexual favors.”
His fingertips glide towards the inside of my thigh. “You ready for that favor now?”
My legs open wider to answer the question without words. I toss the laptop to the side and bend my legs to allow him more room to work with. Oliver leans into the crook of my neck and uses the tip of his tongue to tease it with light traces. I whimper for more, lifting my hips up to silently echo the verbal pleading. His thick digit doesn’t deliberate on whether to fulfill the request now or later. It pierces past the scorching muscles with one sharp thrust and curls upward grazing the spot that makes my toes curl. Instinctively, I move my hand to cover his, to encourage it to move faster, but am taken by surprise when the hand that was stroking my hip seizes it. Oliver’s clasp becomes a carnal cuff at the same time his teeth sink into my skin like a lecherous leash.
The moans leaking from parted lips are practically air. “Oliver….”
He growls his gratification of his name being called and the vibration lights every nerve end on fire. The thrusting of one finger swiftly transpires into two. His palm lightly taps my clit causing my ass to tense as I lift myself up, anxious to meet each sharp push. My cries of his name grow louder. More urgent. My rasping for air is matched breath for breath between the frantic moving of his fingers.
“Oh my gosh, I’m coming!” I scream as if the announcement needs to be heard by everyone in the building and Xochiquetzal, the Aztec goddess.
His movements still and my pussy tenses wildly around him. Oliver groans his appreciation for being the reason it’s constricting like a boa around his fingers. My bobbing head bounces its way his direction and the moment our mouths are in the same vicinity he melds them together.
We exchange heated roll after roll until my mind is spinning out of control.
He slips his lips away at the same time he slowly slides himself out. I watch him suck the sticky reward off his fingers with a smug smirk. Afterward, he states, “You know I hate having my hands dirty.”
I roll my eyes and give him a gentle push away.
Oliver chuckles, grabs his vibrating phone, and checks the cause of the ruckus. “Brando and Natasha were wondering if we wanna have Swinging Sushi tonight.”
Wasn’t wrong about the two of them the first time we met. About two days after we had dinner together, Brando asked her out and she said yes. I guess seeing Oliver all worked up over me helped the obvious pining die, which was great for everyone. Apparently, they’re moving in together next month. It’s amazing how life just falls into place when we have a little help getting out of our own way.
“Is that the place where we can sit outside on actual swings?”
He looks up from his phone with a playful smirk. “Sure is, Sunshine.”
“Then yes.”
“Time?”
“Seven.”
“Eight it is,” Oliver agrees, typing away on his phone.
With a crooked grin, I reach for his laptop to resume chopping wood or laying bricks or whatever it is the computer version of the man I love was doing.
The thought of using the L word gnaws at me uncomfortably again.
It’s not that I don’t love Oliver. In fact, every time I look back on the first time we locked eyes, I’m pretty sure that was the moment it happened. What I hate is how once those words are on the table certain expectations join them. As someone who lives by her own rules and regulations ninety-nine percent of the time, the idea of suddenly being chained to a set of out of date bylaws irks me. I don’t want things to change with Oliver just because those words are proclaimed out loud. We’re so damn happy the way we are. If I honestly believed he wouldn’t try to push me into the parameters that come with exchanging those sentiments verbatim, I would’ve shouted them from the rooftops a long, long time ago. I’d also stop feeling compelled to light the sensual incense around his apartment to reassure his soul on a spiritual level.
“Hey,” Oliver calls to me just as I begin to push the H button again. “My brother’s birthday is coming up in a couple weeks.” My attention swings to him. “Wanna come to dinner out at my parent’s place with me?”
“If I can….”
He tilts his head in anticipation for more information.
“Next couple of weeks are insane. I’m in New South Wales, Australia for a skiing competition. Saturday’s Azura’s baby shower in Austinlania and then a BBQ at Preston Wyatt’s that Sunday-”
“The actor?”
The irritation in his voice is irrelevant by this point in our relationship. I’ve learned if the opposite sex is mentioned, straight or gay, he seems to involuntarily grow a hint of jealousy in his voice. It’s just his protective nature overthrowing his sanity. “Yes, the actor. He’s actually a really big extreme sports fan.”
“Makes sense. He’s an action star. Probably similar adrenaline rushes.”
“Probably,” I agree and continue. “The following week I think I’m in Colorado or California or Canada, I don’t know something with a C. After that….I’d have to ask my assistant and check my calendar.”
Two things I don’t enjoy having, but are must haves in my life.
Oliver tries to bite back the resentment that always creeps out when he realizes he won’t be seeing me a long span of time. “I understand. Will you check for me later? Possibly move some things around?”
That . That is the type of presumptions that come with professed loves and pinned titles. He asks because there are no societal expectations on our mating. Not because you’re my girlfriend you have to make your schedule fit mine. There’s no animosity or building dread of having to submit to someone else’s priorities. I love that he asked me to try to rearrange rather than commanded. I don’t wanna lose that once we say I love you….
“I will definitely see what I can do for you, Hot Stuff.” I try to comfort with a sweet chaste kiss. “Now, show me how to build a fireplace. I don’t wanna accidentally burn all my hard work down.”
He lightly laughs, tosses his phone back on the bedside, and resumes the gaming lessons.
Our energy levels don’t always flow without hardships. Scheduling always has a tendency to make our relationship a little rocky. I wonder if there’s a lucky love feather or healing stone that could help bring some positive compromising vibes our way. Something whispering to my soul tells me we’re going to need it.