“Livs?” Bill called.
“Yep.”
“We should probably eat before we pick them up.”
I walked by the pile of fishing equipment at the door and into the bedroom, where Bill was folding clothes into an open suitcase. “You should start packing, too.”
The urge to turn and run overcame me. I didn’t want to face him, so I looked away. “I already did.” I pointed to my suitcase in the corner. “I’ll make something to eat.”
“K. Hey, wait,” he said, reaching out and pulling me over. I tensed under his touch but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He kissed the top of my head and tucked some hair behind my ear. “How was your day? Work late?”
“It was good,” I said, curling my lips into what I hoped was a smile. I discreetly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to erase traces of David. “I’m not feeling well though, would you mind soup for dinner?”
He crinkled his nose in response. “I hate soup.”
“Please,” I said. “I’m not up for making anything.”
“It’s fine, I’ll get something on the way. What’s wrong?”
“Probably nothing, I just need a good night’s sleep.”
“And you’re going to get one. Soon we’ll be under the stars, away from all the noise. Doesn’t get much more peaceful than a cabin in the woods,” he said excitedly. “I can’t wait.”
Life in Chicago had taught me to not only appreciate but to love the fast pace of a city. For me, the best lullaby was the telltale sounds of a sleeping city. But Bill saw things differently. He longed for the sort of tranquility that only nature could provide. “Me neither,” I agreed, trying to remain positive. “I could use some fresh air.”
After a can of chicken soup, I didn’t feel any better. I needed to cleanse, not consume. Despite Bill’s protests, I flipped the shower on, promising him it would be quick.
“Quick?” he called through the door. “Sure, then you have to do your hair and make-up, Liv, I’m almost done – can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow?”
“No,” I snapped. “The steam will help my head.” I peeled my dress off, letting it fall on the floor as Bill opened the door and stuck his head in.
“Babe, I’m not going to do my hair or make-up,” I said, exasperated.
“Damn right,” he said. “We don’t have time for that.”
“I get it. I’ll be fast. There’s a twenty in my purse – take the bags downstairs, and get yourself food from the corner. I’ll meet you down there in fifteen minutes.”
He grunted in response and turned away.
“Honey, the door! You’re letting all the steam out.”
He pulled the door shut as I stepped under the showerhead. I dumped too much body wash in my hand and smoothed it over my skin where the water burned. Oh God, oh God. What have I done? And what do I do now?
I forced David’s face from my mind. His lusty eyes tormented me, reeling me in before his body had cast me aside. I imagined my hands were his and squeezed my shoulders as he had, but my grip was pitiful in comparison. I ran his hands over my breasts, caressing taut nipples.
I opened my eyes and shook my head. Stop! I begged myself. This is wrong. This is so wrong. I twisted the dial closer toward the red, forcing myself in the water’s punishing path. The ache from earlier gnawed at me, dragging my hands downward. My chest heaved as I gave in to the memory, gave in to the feel of David’s lips against mine just moments before.
My palm pushed against the mound between my legs, slippery from the soap, and my fingers circled my opening, massaging the skin as my arousal mounted. David, I thought, slipping two fingers inside myself and moving into them. Firm, strong hands . . . holding me still . . . on my skin . . . . I shot my other fist against the wall across from me, pressing into it as I began to lose myself in the thought of him. With my back flush against the slick tile, I lifted one leg onto the opposite wall, continuing to pump and rub with my other hand. I gasped for air as my imagination took over, as David pulled open my blouse, hiked up my skirt and rubbed against me. I ripped the nozzle from its place in a fury and fixed it against myself, letting the scalding water beat against my clit. Oh god, oh god. I writhed against it as David threw me on the desk, opening me with his fingers and shoving inside of me mercilessly. With all my strength, I pushed my foot into the tile as the waves crested, throwing me into a fierce, blinding orgasm that continued longer than I was used to.
I waited until my heartbeat slowed before gently placing the nozzle back into its holder. Below, I was red and raw from the force of the water. I continued to wash my skin, carefully avoiding the painful area with my hands. I’d wanted to cleanse myself of him, of his presence, of the ache he had inspired. Instead I felt filthier than ever.
CHAPTER 15
THE DRIVE TURNED OUT TO BE a welcome distraction from my thoughts. Only once, while Bill and Andrew excitedly planned their morning on the lake, did I look out the window into the darkness and remember David’s unrelenting clasp on my shoulders, or the way his surprisingly tender lips claimed mine. The memory was made of details, unlike the furious sensations of the fantasy I’d given in to before.
“Enough,” Lucy said in exasperation, tearing me from my reverie. She hadn’t asked me much once I’d told her David had been impressed. I imagined her rolling her eyes in the backseat as she scolded Bill and Andrew. “No more fishing talk ‘til I’m out of earshot or extremely drunk.”
“Then the same goes for wedding talk,” Bill countered.
“Bill,” I admonished.
“No way. You girls can talk cake and centerpieces ‘til you’re blue in the face once Andrew and I have left in the morning.”
Lucy made a noise. “I don’t talk about the wedding that much.”
“You don’t, Luce. He’s just being mean,” I said. I swallowed, wincing at the early sting of a sore throat. “How many bridal mags did you bring? Be honest.”
“Well, nine, but it’s because I’m so behind, and I need your help. Like, what about shoes? White shoes are just so . . . yuck.”
“Tsk, tsk,” Bill said, shaking his head. “Tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I said. “What would you like to talk about? Sweetie?” I added as an afterthought.
“Basketball. Andrew, what’s the score now?”
Lucy and I groaned in unison.
“Actually man, there is something I want to ask you,” Andrew said, clearing his throat. “Since Liv’s going to be in the bridal party, I thought you might want to also. If you want. Like, my brothers are going to be in it, but I need one more guy.”
I stifled a laugh. It was really sweet of Andrew to think of Bill, but I knew he’d be pissed. “Andrew, that’s so nice,” I said. “Of course he wants to.”
“Yeah, of course, man, thanks for thinking of me,” Bill agreed. I reached over and rubbed his knee.
~
We arrived at the cabin late, and after unloading the car, headed straight for our respective bedrooms. I fell into bed, welcoming the warmth of the flannel sheets. Thankfully, the cabin was well-stocked with tissue boxes since I felt something coming on.
“Night,” I said with a sniffle.
Bill closed his book and leaned over to kiss my neck. Oh my God, I thought, panicked. This can’t happen. I’ve barely recovered from my shower.
“Bill,” I objected, and he slid his hand under the covers and over my backside.
“Come on, Liv,” he whispered. “We’re all alone in the woods. It’s so romantic here.” I thought better than to point out that Lucy and Andrew were steps away.
“I’m definitely coming down with something. You might catch it. What if you can’t go tomorrow?”
He relented, somewhat dejectedly, and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. “Okay. Goodnight.”
I exhaled my immense relief. I fell into sleep quickly, but thought I heard, ‘I love you.’
~
The next morning, I toweled off from a quick rinse, t
hrew on a robe and met Bill in the kitchen. He handed me a big mug. I held it close to my face and sniffed, letting the steam clear my nose. “Mmm, peppermint tea. Thank you honey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Miserable,” I said with a frown.
“Oh, no.” He leaned in. I offered my cheek, but he dodged it and planted a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Bill,” I whined, crinkling my nose. “I’m gross.”
He smoothed his hand over my wet hair. “Take this,” - he handed me a bottle of Nyquil - “and go back to sleep.” I’d been up all night with a runny nose and had a trashcan full of snotty tissues to prove it.
“Where did you find this?” I asked warily, checking for an expiration date.
“Medicine cabinet in the bathroom. No clue how old it is.”
Andrew waltzed in then, his spirits much too high for five in the morning.
“Have fun today,” I said to them nasally.
“What’s wrong, Liv, not feeling well?”