"You've got to stop," he says gruffly. "I'm not going to be able to hold back much longer."
"Why are you holding back at all?" I ask, preparing to resume my task but in a second's time I'm lifted from the floor entirely, my back pressed against the shower wall.
He takes the soap and runs it between my legs, and then takes his fingers to push through the soapy trail he's left behind. "Will … oh God, that's amazing."
His fingers slip and slide until I think my knees are going to buckle. He is rigid in my palm, beginning to thrust up into it, as he seizes my mouth violently. "Should I take it easy on you, Olivia?" he growls.
///
"No," I gasp. "Definitely not." With a speed I didn't imagine possible, he lifts my legs around his waist and pushes inside me hard, just the way he thrust into my hand.
"That's so good," he groans, his mouth pressed to my damp neck. He pulls out and presses back in, faster and harder than before, as my back slides against the shower wall.
I'm far from virginal. I've always enjoyed sex. But this is something else entirely, a pleasure so sharp that it almost hurts, that it draws goose bumps and elicits cries from my throat I seem helpless to stop. For the first time, I'm not worried about whether I'll finish but about whether I can hold off a little longer.
"I'm close," I gasp. I meant it as a warning but the second he pushes in again something bursts open inside me like a bomb. He hammers into me, prolonging everything until suddenly his whole body tenses and he groans into my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin as he comes.
He buries his face there, and I cling to him.
After a moment, I laugh shakily. "How are you still holding me up? My legs are so rubbery I'm pretty sure I couldn't even stand on my own right now."
His smile lifts on one side. "I'm not sure. I'm just scared I'm going to drop you if I try to move."
Somehow we manage to separate, and then take turns soaping each other again. He turns off the water and wraps me in a dry towel. "We've now had sex in the shower and on a table," he says. "I think it's time we got really crazy and tried this thing called a bed."
"I've heard of those," I reply, following him to the room. "They sound dangerous."
He turns toward me with a grin that could only be described as predatory. "You have no idea."
77
Will
Last night defies description. When we first woke up together, it was gentle. Times four through eight were increasingly less so. Every part of my body feels bruised today and she was limping a little as we walked through LAX, which didn't stop me from wanting to take her straight back to my apartment when we land, except that both my mom and Peter are waiting for us at the farm.
She changed out of that tiny skirt she was wearing last night, but honestly, Olivia could be wearing oversized trash bags sewn together and I'd still be itching to see what was underneath. "Maybe we should stop by my apartment first," I suggest. "Just to get cleaned up."
She laughs. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
"Don't hear you saying no," I reply.
"Will," she says, moving toward me and placing her mouth next to my ear, "I never say no."
Fuck it. We are totally stopping at my apartment.
But not one minute later, my mom calls. "What on earth is taking so long? Your flight got in two hours ago."
"Well, you know how that goes," I begin. "It's over an hour drive from Denver, and it takes a while to get the bags and-"
"Baloney. Hurry up."
When we arrive, she runs from the house, already crying, and pounces on Olivia.
"Let's give them a minute and take a walk," Peter says to me.
I go to the porch and he follows, looking unbelievably uncomfortable. "What's going on, Peter?"
"A few things," he says nervously. "The first is about the farm. On your mother's behalf, I entered conversations with the school late last year about allowing the agriculture program to lease a fair bit of it, year round."
"Lease it? Why would they do that? They have their own land, right?"
"Yeah, but they could use more, and this is a perfect test case. Your father needed to switch up the crops he was growing a few years back, when demand for corn decreased, and he didn't. The school wants to use the farm to teach students how to change out a field, plant a new crop entirely, work out the profit/loss estimate for the first few years until it flourishes. They're willing to pay your mother far more to lease it than your father ever earned off crops in his best year, and she'll get 25% of the profits to boot."
"And once we're up and running, they'll end the lease?" I ask.
"Not necessarily, but that's okay either way because I'm looking to retire in a few years and I thought I might try my hand at farming."
"So you want to buy the farm?"
"No," he says. "Not exactly." He hesitates. "What I'd like to do is marry your mother."
I blink at him, momentarily speechless.
I guess I can't call it "shocking" after everything I've seen happen to Olivia, but yeah, it's still pretty goddamn surprising. It takes me a minute to process the whole thing. "Don't you think you ought to date first?" I finally ask.
///
"Will," he laughs, "I've been seeing your mother for over a year now."
"But how? I mean, when did this all take place?"
He shakes his head and looks a little sheepish. "I guess you're not the only one who fell in love behind everyone's back."
I'm feeling pretty good about everything until I get back inside and find Brendan with his arms around my girlfriend. Brendan's smile fades when he sees me over her shoulder – possibly related to the fact that I already want to hit him and I'm guessing it shows on my face.
With an exaggerated sigh he releases her. "Chill, dude. I was just saying hello."
I glare at him. "Just use words next time."
"But Olivia gives such good hugs," he counters, glancing at her chest. "She's got to be at least, what, a D cup?"
"That was your last hug, asshole," she says with a laugh, wrapping her arms around my waist.
Olivia's mood is slightly more forgiving than my own. She's told me that Brendan was never interested in her and was only trying to bait me before, but it's going to be a while before the memory of him kissing her stops pissing me off.
"It's the middle of the week," I say, struggling to sound civil. "Shouldn't you be taking finals?"
He shakes his head. "The school let me take them early. I thought you might need some help around here."
Brendan hasn't given a shit about the farm since the day he was born. When he was little he used to come home suggesting non-farm jobs to my father, as if possibly my dad just didn't realize he could be a pilot or fireman instead. "Help?" I ask, my voice rife with disbelief.
I wait for the punchline but it doesn't come.
"Yeah," he says. "It means ‘providing assistance to.'"
"I know what it means, asshole. Are you saying you came back to help with the farm?"
He shrugs. "Unless you want me to help take care of your girlfriend, which I'm also open to."
For the first time ever I am almost able to smile at his reference to Olivia. "This will surprise you, but no, I'm not really open to that."
"Then I'll just help with the farm. The school said I can take next semester off if I need to. I could even complete my coursework from here."
"You don't need to do that," I argue. "You're nearly done."
"I've got my whole life to finish school, but my family needs me now. And by the way, if you've clung to your girlfriend long enough, you probably should go check on the horses. They've eaten more than their fair share of Hamburger Helper this week."
"They aren't supposed to eat any Hamburger Helper."
He grins. "Oops. Then you may want to hurry."
I head to the stables, feeling a little shell-shocked by how much has changed in a few short days. Peter is in love with my mom. Brendan is actually trying to be helpful. And Olivia – she's safe and she's home and most of all she's mine. I'm not sure I'll ever get my head around that one.
I'm still marveling at all of it when I feel my cell vibrating in my back pocket. I don't have to look to guess who's calling. Jessica's been blowing up my phone since she heard I quit.
I didn't trust myself to answer when Olivia was missing because every word I wanted to utter was a threat. I'm not even sure I trust myself now, but it's time to end this once and for all.