February. Things were changing. Again. Some of the changes, perhaps even most of them, I enjoyed.
My favorite development had to do with Livvie’s thirst to be dominated. Since “The Laptop Incident” and our subsequent pact to be more forthcoming with one another, Livvie had no choice but to break her silence on the subject.
Some of it hadn’t been surprising. The sex we’d been having had been undoubtedly familiar to me. I knew Livvie enjoyed being spanked, chased, held down, and occasionally fucked in her ass. What I hadn’t anticipated was her desire for what she called games and I referred to as reenactments.
It had been my hope that upon finding Livvie again, we would start fresh and pretend the past had never occurred (it sounds asinine when I read it back). However, all freshmen are required to take psychology and Livvie seemed to take to it like a duck to water. She wanted to experiment with Exposure Therapy in the hopes that by reliving some of her experiences in a safe environment, she would no longer fear them.
Needless to say, I thought it was a bat-shit crazy idea (that’s the technical term). The last thing I wanted was to reprise my role as Livvie’s captor. What if it didn’t work and she ended up hating me? It took a great deal of convincing from Livvie, but ultimately I’d agreed to some of the less… disturbing moments.
One morning I made us breakfast, put it on a wheeled cart from IKEA, and took it into Livvie’s room. Livvie had taken the time to prepare herself while I cooked breakfast, and I’d been pleasantly surprised to find her wearing one of my white button-up shirts and a dainty pair of kitten ears. I understood the significance of the shirt. The ears were a nice touch. I felt that touch center mass.
“Should I take my shirt off?” I asked. History dictated I should.
“If you’re over your self-indulgent modesty,” she whispered. In the past, I would have found her words incendiary—another time, another place—but in our reimagining I found them to be… charming.
I’d removed my shirt, enjoying the way Livvie’s eyes lusted instead of feared. I took a chance and played along.
“It’s a pity I have nothing to bind you with. I’d be hard-pressed to recall anyone who looks as good as you do in a collar and shackles.”
Livvie turned and brought me a box from beneath her bed. Inside I found a jeweled collar, a leash, and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. I laughed.
“Oh my, you have been a busy girl. When and where did you get these?”
Livvie blushed and the memory was further reshaped.
“I ordered them online,” she said timidly. Her hands were already behind her back and she swayed gently from side to side.
I kissed her. It was a light meeting of lips, a token.
“Turn around,” I ordered. Livvie shivered and a small sound escaped her lips. She complied quickly.
As I fed Livvie breakfast while she knelt at my feet, I was struck by several thoughts. First, I realized the power of forgiveness. Second, I found Livvie’s game enticing. Third, I could never leave Livvie. Fourth, I never wanted to leave her.
For better or worse, Livvie had been irrevocably altered by her experiences with me. She was a nineteen-year-old with proclivities no one her age would understand and a vulnerability any creep like me could easily spot and take advantage of. She was strong, smart, willful, and driven, but she was also soft, trusting, and needy where her heart was concerned. Livvie needed taking care of.
Other changes in our relationship I didn’t enjoy quite as much. As part of our pact, Livvie and I discussed our fears, hopes, and aspirations for what our relationship could be. She wanted to know more about my past, Mexico, and the less gruesome ways I’d spent my year away from her.
Also, I wasn’t comfortable with Livvie’s writing. However, aside from the time we spent with Claudia and Rubio—or having sex—there seemed little else occupying Livvie’s and my time. Apparently, I’d inspired her to go “back to the drawing board.” She wanted to incorporate more of the facts I’d given her.
Suddenly, there were days when she wouldn’t speak to me because she’d just finished rehashing some traumatic event involving me. There were some moments neither of us wanted to re-imagine. At first I tried try to seduce her away from her thoughts, but after the first few times she began to see it as manipulative. Soon after, I decided to make myself scarce during her periods of… well, her periods.
Other days, she took to cornering me on the sofa or at the dinner table to ask me invasive questions about my past. These usually ended in an argument over my “evasiveness” or sex. Sometimes we had both—an argument first, and sex right after. I worried that if it kept up, I’d get an erection every time she looked upset with me.
Yet, as with our sexual games, I began to see the merit in expressing myself through my conversations with Livvie. I began to realize I wasn’t as upset by her questioning as I had been before. In slow gradations, I found myself offering information she hadn’t asked about. I told her about RezA and how guilty I had felt for not warning him Narweh was dead. He’d been such an optimistic person. He hadn’t enjoyed his slavery any more than I had, but where I’d been rebellious unto my own ruination, RezA had navigated his situation with grace.
“Do you think he could have escaped? I mean, I’ve heard that gun go off. The whole neighborhood probably knew someone had been shot. Couldn’t he have heard it and escaped?” Livvie asked.
This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous but… it hadn’t fucking occurred to me! It really hadn’t. I’d been out of my mind. To this day, whenever I recall the moment of my first kill, there is no sound beyond the beating of my heart and the high-pitched wail of adrenaline in my veins. I remember the heavy weight of the gun. I remember the look of disgust on Narweh’s face. I remember shutting my eyes and squeezing the trigger. I remember something wet splattering on my face before I hit the ground. I remember the silence.
I sat up and I heard nothing. I stared into Narweh’s cold, empty eyes. I remember thinking the soul must be real. Something had been keeping Narweh alive. That something was gone. There was only meat, blood, and bones left behind.
I remember an acute feeling of anger and sorrow that I had not been brave enough to keep my eyes open. I remember thinking: I should have made him beg for my forgiveness. I should have made him plead for mercy. I should have raped him with the cane he used to beat me.
“I… don’t know if RezA could have escaped. I suppose it’s possible,” I said. I was dumbfounded. “Rafiq said he burned the building down with Narweh inside it. I guess… I didn’t want to ask too many questions.”
“Why?” Livvie’s hand rested on top of mine.
“I wasn’t sure Rafiq would like it,” I said simply. “I figured if he could burn a building full of people down and chat about it over breakfast, I had no business getting on his bad side.”
“How old were you?”
“I’d have to do the math. When’s my birthday?”
“James. Seriously?”
I laughed.
“Give me a break. I’ve never had to remember before.”
“You’re twenty-seven.” She smiled a little sadly. I let myself think for a moment.
“I guess I was… twelve, maybe thirteen?”
Livvie sat back in her chair and stared at me.
“Jesus.” She shook her head and wiped at her eye.
“I’m fine, Pet. At least… I think?” I didn’t mind opening up to Livvie (much), but afterward there was always the worry she would see me as weak. I didn’t want her pity. I only wanted her to understand why it took so much effort on my part to give her what she needed. Though I was beginning to learn that what I thought Livvie needed and what she actually needed were sometimes two different things. Not often, but sometimes. There were days I could take my job as Livvie’s protector overboard (drunk college boys should watch their mouths if they value having teeth).
“You’re better than fine. I’m so damn impressed with you. I feel like… the more I learn about your past… I had all these feelings I couldn’t process in Mexico. When I tried to explain them to Reed or Sloan, I could see on their faces how ridiculous they thought I was.”
“It’s easier to explain your feelings for an abused whore than a man who held you prisoner. Is that about the size and shape of it?” I kept the sound of my balls shriveling from my voice.
Livvie appeared horrified.
“No! James… no. It’s more like… you could be so cold. But when I was at my lowest, when I felt like I was hanging on by a thread… you always knew what to say. You have this ability to hold me and make me believe you. You’re full of warmth and kindness.”
I had to scoff at that, and Livvie slapped my arm.
“You are!” she insisted. “I couldn’t even see you in that room sometimes, but I could still feel it. I didn’t understand where it came from, but when I hear you talk about the past it all makes sense to me.”
Admittedly, I was a little embarrassed. I’m not really accustomed to compliments, especially when they’re intensely personal and genuine. The void almost felt… full. I, on the other hand, felt squirmy.
“Well then. Good. I suppose. It’s good that you think I’m… nice.”
“James, you look like I just farted in your general direction.” She grinned.
“What! That’s disgusting.”
Livvie laughed. It was her incredibly loud cackle that meant she couldn’t control herself. It was not a pretty sight, but I loved it when she laughed like that. I love it when she laughs like that.
“No. It’s Monty Python.”
I was laughing too. Livvie’s laughter is too infectious not to take part in it.
“A what?”
“It’s a movie.” She wiped tears from her eyes.
I pulled her hand toward my mouth and licked her finger. There are so many kinds of tears. I plan to collect them all.
“I’m not sure I want to see it.”
Livvie leaned forward and kissed my lips.
“Well, we have to now. It’s an older movie and over-the-top ridiculous, but I can’t wait to see your face.”
I made a face of the “what the hell is wrong with you?” variety.
“It’s disturbing when you do that. I always know when something big is about to happen because there you are, staring at me with your huge doe eyes.”
Livvie shrugged.
“Not my fault you’re so nice to look at.” Her expression turned ruefully judgmental. “You’re the only person I know who looks sexier with bruises.” She poked the butterfly stitch on my eyebrow and I hissed.
“Dammit, Pet. That hurts.” I’d been visiting the gym a few times a week and sparring. I fought Fernando mostly, but other fighters from time to time. Some of them were even decent conversationalists, so long as the topic didn’t stray from matches, fighting styles, or food intake. I was compelled to try a protein shake… once.
“Oh? And it didn’t hurt when that guy kicked you in the face?” She made a fist and twisted it near the corner of her eye while sticking out her bottom lip.
“Are you calling me a cry baby?” I stood and glared. Livvie’s head was craned all the way back to meet my eyes. “Big talk for such a little girl.”
“I’m not scared of you. I’ll poke your band-aid.” She puffed out her ample chest.
It was difficult to keep a straight face. Had I really been outmatched by her? The answer was a resounding yes.
“You poke my band-aid and you’re going to have a serious problem.”
She sucked in her cheeks to keep from smiling. Slowly her hand reached up toward my eyebrow. Her eyes met mine. She considered. A flicker of excitement caused her to lick her bottom lip. She pressed her fingertip to my cut. I didn’t wince.
“Is this the part where I get angry and threaten to teach you a lesson?” I asked calmly. Livvie practically vibrated with excitement.
“Yes.” She shivered.
“When do you leave for work?”
“I have a few hours.” She sounded breathy.
“Well then.” I caressed her face so I could watch the way she closed her eyes to savor my touch. With my other hand, I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled. “Let’s go teach you some manners.”
***
“Remind me again. Why are we spending our romantic evening with Claudia and Rubio? If romance is what you’re after, it seems counterproductive to have other people in attendance.” I’d forgotten my shoes in my hotel room and we were forced to go and retrieve them. The clock in my dash display reminded me we were supposed to pick up the other couple in an hour.
“Because, Best Boyfriend in the World, it’ll be fun. Also, Rubi really wanted to take Claudia somewhere nice. He’s been saving up since Christmas. Can Fabes is supposed to have amazing food. I still don’t know how you managed to make reservations. How did you get reservations anyway? It was pretty short notice.” Livvie checked her lipstick in the visor mirror for the third time. I think she just liked the way her lips looked in red. So did I.
“It was short notice because you didn’t tell me I was supposed to plan something. Valentine’s Day? I’ve heard of it, but I had no idea people actually participated in such… sentimentality. Don’t they get enough of that during Thanksgiving and Christmas?” I put my blinker on and moved to the passing lane to get around someone in what appeared to be a golf cart. Fuel-efficient cars. Bleh!
“Changing the subject, James. I’m on to your tactics.” Livvie glared. A smile played on her lips.
“I went down to the restaurant in person and charmed the hostess. She was very amenable.” I grinned. Livvie’s smile turned sour. “You asked.” I shrugged.
“I didn’t ask you to flirt with another girl.”
“I didn’t say I flirted. I said I was charming. I simply explained that I was a cad who’d made the grievous mistake of not acquiring reservations to take my beautiful girlfriend and her entourage to dinner on the most romantic day of the year. I told her I’d be lost without you and that anything she could do to help me keep your favor would be worthy of my deepest gratitude. Then I tipped her a day’s wages.” I kept my eyes forward, though I knew my expression remained smug.
“Asshole,” Livvie said. She grabbed my hand and put it in both of hers, squeezing.
“Idiot,” I countered. “As if anyone else could hold my attention.” I squeezed her hand in return.
“I got you a present,” she said.
“Kitten,” I admonished. “We already exchanged gifts.” I’d given her pearls. She’d gifted me with the sight of her in a red cape and heels high enough to nearly put us at eye level. It had been a very short but enjoyable chase. No one could run in those things. I forbid her to wear them outside the house.
“Relax. It’s no big deal.” She opened her purse and took out a box of candy. I laughed.
“It looks open.”
“I ate most of them,” she said.
“You are so strange sometimes, Pet.”
“Method to my madness, Sexy. Open your hand.” I complied and she put the heart-shaped candies in my palm. When I looked at them, I felt as though someone had squeezed my heart. All the candies read “Be Mine.”
“I’m already yours, Pet. And you’re mine.” Stuffing my mouth full of candy hearts may have lessened the romance of the moment, but Livvie didn’t seem to mind.
“Yes, yours,” she said. She kissed my cheek.
I felt in my heart the affirmation of what I had come to suspect was true for some time. What she really meant was: I love you.
After retrieving my shoes and picking up Claudia and Rubio (I have never been comfortable with calling that man Rubi), we arrived at the restaurant with ten minutes to spare. I felt the slightest bit awkward as we approached the hostess. She was the same woman from the week before and she smiled warmly. However, I didn’t miss the way her eyebrow lifted as she saw the young crowd I’d brought with me. I could never be ashamed of Livvie, but traveling with three younger people made me feel… old. There had been a time when it wouldn’t have bothered me because I had no idea of my age. Regardless, the hostess greeted us warmly.
“Señor Cole.” She pointed us in the direction of our waiter, who greeted us with a smile and asked us to follow him.
“Your last name is Cole? Like Sophia’s?” Claudia sounded incredulous.
“Strange coincidence,” I said.
Claudia shrugged and it made her look younger, despite the very adult cocktail dress she was wearing.
“I guess if you ever get married you won’t argue about whether or not Sophia will change her name.”
“Claudia,” Livvie hissed.
The waiter averted his gaze with a tight-lipped smile as he ushered us into our seats. I helped Livvie out of her coat and pulled out her chair (six months prior I couldn’t open a door). Rubio, upon witnessing my impeccable boyfriend skills, assisted Claudia. The ladies seemed to appreciate it very much.
“I will give you a moment to go over the menu while I check your coats.” The waiter walked away with the coats. I watched him speak to the hostess and surmised she was supposed to check our coats when we arrived. I hoped I didn’t get her into any trouble. Then again, she should have done her job.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Rubio said to me. He is ever the gentleman, and I often wonder how Claudia has managed to keep him. Then I am reminded of me and Livvie. Stranger things have happened.
“Thank you for helping me choose the restaurant. I’m not overly familiar with the area.” I winked and Rubio repressed a smile. The concierge at my hotel had told me about the restaurant, but there was no harm in helping Rubio impress his date.
“Rubi is so modest.” Claudia turned to her boyfriend. “You never told me you helped plan this.” She kissed him on the cheek. Rubio blushed (poor bastard).
“It was… a surprise.”
Livvie’s hand squeezed my thigh.
“Aww, you guys are so sweet you’re going to make me puke.” She and I laughed at the other couple’s discomfort. Did they have any idea whom they were out to dinner with?
Claudia composed herself quickly.
“Like you guys are any better. You’re always undressing each other with your eyes. I’m surprised you even left the house.”
“A man has to eat,” I said. “Also, I undress her with more than my eyes. Sometimes I use my teeth.” Livvie blushed to her roots while the rest of us laughed.
“I’m just glad she finally met someone. Rubi and I were trying to set her up for a while. We thought she might be gay and ashamed to tell us. I even told her about kissing my friend Bettany so she would come out, but she never did.” Claudia has a tendency to impart too much information, but when it comes to Livvie, I often enjoy what she has to say.
“You don’t have a friend named Bettany,” Livvie said. She sounded put-out, but it was all for show.
“You didn’t know that,” said Claudia. “I was just trying to let you know I was okay with you being gay.”
“But I’m not gay!” Livvie said with mock exasperation. She covered her face when the waiter chose that exact moment to return to our table.
Though I was sure he had overheard, the waiter kept a professional demeanor. We all managed to compose ourselves enough to order dinner and wine. Livvie thought Europe was “awesome” for no other reason than a person could drink legally drink at age eighteen. Of course, if you could reach the bar they’d serve you.
“You know, if you ever want to experiment with a woman—under my close guidance, of course—I’d be alright with it.” I smiled cheekily toward Livvie and lifted a brow for good measure.
Livvie shook her head.
“I bet you would.” Her hand cupped my balls beneath the table. Her eyes widened as she felt the stirring of my arousal. “Later,” she whispered. I wondered if she meant she’d please me later, or if I’d get to see her kiss and touch another woman later. Either way—lucky me.
The rest of dinner went on in the same jovial fashion. Claudia and Livvie took care of most of the conversation. I preferred it that way, and Rubio seemed to as well. Livvie was witty and Claudia so uncouth that one couldn’t help but be amused by the pair of them. The sprite and her boyfriend were growing on me—like a fungus.
After dinner and an attempt at dancing (I am not a good dancer), I returned Claudia and Rubio home. Rubio, being the gentleman that he is, tried to slip his share of dinner into my pocket, but I wouldn’t allow it.
“Buy her something expensive. Nothing makes a woman more agreeable in the bedroom,” I said with a grin.
“I’m already agreeable,” retorted Claudia. “Rubi may seem quiet, but you know what they say about the quiet ones.”
Rubi laughed even as he blushed.
“She’s drunk. I better take her inside.”
“Yes! Take me!” Claudia pulled Rubio toward her and mauled his face with her mouth. It went on so long I decided to drive off. I saw Rubio wave as he kept kissing.
Livvie was stretched out in the passenger seat. She was blissfully drunk, and by the way she was rubbing herself, I knew I’d have my own hands full once we got home.
“Is there anything you need from your apartment? I’d rather stay at the hotel tonight.” I stroked her with one hand whenever I wasn’t shifting.
“Why?” she asked dreamily.
“All of my things are in my hotel room. Your apartment is closer to where we are. We may as well stop and get your things if you need something,” I said. I hated sleeping without Livvie. The nightmares were significantly diminished when she was next to me.
“But I want you. I don’t want to wait,” she whined. She was very intoxicated, and part of me suspected there would be no sex for me that night.
“I want you, too. It’s a pity we live so far apart. Claudia and Rubio don’t have that problem.”
Livvie suddenly seemed very sober, if you didn’t take her huge eyes into consideration.
“Are you… do you want to move into my apartment?”
“No,” I said definitively.
“Oh.” She seemed at once relieved and disappointed. She turned away and stared out the window for a few minutes, then, angrily, “Why not?”
“Because your apartment is small.”
“Oh.” Confusion.
I sighed.
“I’m asking you to move in with me, Sophia. I’ll leave the hotel, you’ll leave your apartment, and we’ll buy a place that’s ours.” Silence filled the vehicle for what felt like endless hours.
“Okay,” she said simply.
“Okay?” I asked, incredulous. What sort of response was that?
“Okay,” she repeated and put her hand in mine.
“Okay,” I said.
The void was overflowing.
