Page 69 of The Hardest Hit
“He wanted me to move back to Georgia and marry Clark.”
“I fucking hate Clark.”
Olivia scratched her cheek, itching away a dusting of flour. She realized that there was a cheek-shaped flour print on Evan’s coat as well.
“I never thought about it like that. Like a negotiation.”
“You have all the power,” he said. “You have what he wants and he has no leverage to make you do it. Just tell him to go fuck himself. Or whatever Southern people say.”
“We generally also say that, but not to our grandparents.”
“I’ll say it if you want,” he volunteered.
“He also said you were the Yankee boy who had turned my head and was taking advantage of me,” she said smiling widely.
“Repeatedly and as often as I can,” he said, which made her laugh.
“I think I floured your coat,” she said, pointing. “Take it off and I’ll clean it in a minute. I want to get this next set of cookies on the sheet.”
He nodded and did as she instructed before going into the living room. She watched from the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and collapsed into her second-hand couch.
“You OK, sugar?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just tired.”
She watched with misgiving as he stretched out and crooked his arm over his eyes to block out the light. There was something familiar in the way he simply shut down, which frightened her. It felt like he was retreating into himself. She remembered the terrible feeling of helplessness as she watched her mother crawl back into bed.No baby, no pancakes today.
“I bought a shirt today,” she blurted out, and he pulled his arm away to look at her. “For Tokyo. And I ordered a new laptop bag and I think I may need some sort of trendier walking shoes than sneakers. Is it super lame that I’m already starting to pack? I’m just really looking forward to going with you.”
He grinned at her. “No, I’m looking forward to it too,” he said, rolling onto his side to face her. “I’ve started a list of all the places I want to take you.”
She clapped her hands, forgetting she had a spoonful of cookie dough and Evan laughed a deep rolling laugh as the cookie dough flew out of the spoon and across the kitchen.
The next week flew by and Olivia packed and unpacked her suitcase at least three times, trying to find the optimal configuration and perfect list of items. Evan did not help at all. He seemed to delight in suggesting new items that meant that she had to rebuild her list from scratch. She finally gave up staying at her apartment so that she would stop staring into her closet. Evan didn’t care about that either. She had a drawer and closet space at his condo, and if she didn’t remember to bring clothes, he simply texted someone, and then clothes appeared themselves. She knew she probably ought to object, but it was frankly the most convenient and marvelous thing a boyfriend had ever done for her. It made her want to lick things off of him.
Although, currently, he was licking her in the most delightful, if ticklish, way. Olivia giggled hysterically and her knees clamped around Evan’s ears again.
“OK,” he said, sitting up. “That’s enough of that.”
“No, no,” said Olivia, “I’m sorry! But you tickled me and now I’m extra sensitive. I can stop.”
“Hmm,” he said, climbing off the bed.
“No, come back!”
He ignored her and disappeared into the closet.
“Evan!” He came back out of the closet, something in his hand. “I can stop,” she promised.
“No, I don’t really think you can,” he said. “But I’m going to take care of this problem.” He reached out and grabbed her ankle. She let out a squeak of surprise as he pulled her down the bed. With a quick movement, he looped one of his ties around her ankle and then lashed it to the bedpost.
“The rules are still in place,” he said. “If you want me to stop you just have to say stop.”
Olivia didn’t say anything. She’d never tried being tied up before. Clark had suggested it once and she’d shot him down before the entire sentence was out of his mouth. The idea of Clark being in control of her body had made her squirm. On the other hand, the idea of Evan being in charge filled her with a delicious fluttery sense of anticipation. His eyes were still on her as he tied her other ankle. Her legs were now spread wide before him. It made her feel vulnerable and sent a thrill of adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Logically, it shouldn’t matter. Her hands were free. His knots looked firm, but had she wanted out, she thought she could get out in short order. Not to mention that it was Evan and Evan would never hurt her, and there were rules besides. But she found herself holding her breath in eagerness as he began to kiss his way up her leg.
“Olivia,” he murmured, “is there someplace you would like me to kiss?”
