Epilogue (13 page)

“Whatever, it was funny.” Livvie blushed and cuddled into my chest. I finally had to chuckle. It took me a long time to realize how adept Livvie is at managing my moods. She’d made me forget I was angry and she’d done it without my knowing.

I took her hand and navigated our way through the crowd so that we might visit other, less inhabited, exhibits. Like most people, I don’t know art, but I know what I like. For my part, I appreciated some of the “less superior” pieces more than the
Mona Lisa
. I didn’t find her smile that mysterious, to be honest. I enjoyed Guiseppe Arcimboldo’s
Autumn
much more
.
The artist incorporated fruits and vegetables to create a portrait of a man. It made me think about life and death. All things ripen and die. I thought about being twenty-seven. Knowing one’s age had consequences.

After the Louvre, we ate lunch at a small café within walking distance of the museum. The hotel provided a courtesy chauffeur, but Livvie insisted it was cheating to utilize such services. Walking was certainly more Parisian and therefore necessary to our tourist experience. I was no stranger to walking, but I shared no such thoughts on the subject.

By the time we reached the Eiffel Tower
by way of the Arc de Triomphe, I was ready to throw Livvie into a taxi. But of course, we had to reach the top of the tower. Livvie—being the beautiful, young, and spry girl she is—was still full of energy and smiles. It was just her luck (and my misfortune) that her joy seemed to be infectious and kept me from voicing my growing disdain for tourist traps.

“Awesome! The elevator is working this time,” Livvie said.

I pulled her away from the ticket window before the line turned on her.

“Sorry, Kitten, but I’m not getting in that thing. What if it breaks down? Do you really want to be jammed into a tiny box with dozens of strangers? The idea doesn’t appeal to me.” I don’t like cramped spaces of the non tight, wet, and warm variety.

“Aww, are you claustrophobic?” Livvie made a mockingly sad face.

“Watch yourself, Kitten. I’d hate to have to spank your ass in front of all these people.” I tugged her close and delivered a firm slap to her behind. Someone giggled as they walked past. Livvie laughed.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I plan on doing a lot more later,” I whispered in her ear and bit it for good measure. She squealed and pulled away. “I just hope I have the energy after I climb all these damn stairs.”

“Really? The stairs?” At last it was Livvie who was whining about doing things the hard way.

“Yes. The stairs. And it serves you right for having me walk all over Paris. I hope your thighs get nice and sore on the way up. It’ll make things that much more interesting when I make you squat over me later.” She scrunched up her nose and I laughed.

“You’re mean,” she said.

“Would you have me any other way?” I received little more than a suspicious glare. “Do you have anything in your coat pocket?”

She inspected her coat.

“No. All I brought was my passport, but you took it.”

“Good. I’d hate for you to get pick-pocketed again.” I kissed her forehead and directed our steps toward the stairs.

“What if you get pick-pocketed?”

“That’s cute, Pet.” I half hoped someone would try. I’d been growing increasingly desperate for confrontation. It had been months since I’d had some sort of altercation. I was surprised to discover how much I missed it. I pushed the thought aside for perhaps the hundredth time.

As others crammed themselves into the lift, Livvie and I started up the stairs. I regretted my decision to wear slacks and dress shoes almost immediately. There was a thin layer of frost on the stairs, and as we rose they only became more slippery.

“Try doing it in velvet Mary Janes. I swear, if I die, I’m going to be so mad at you.” Livvie huffed up another set of stairs.

“As if I would let anything happen to you. Would be a bloody waste of redemption, wouldn’t you say?” I was sure I was suffering far more. In addition to climbing, I was also pushing Livvie along to help her up the stairs.

“Bloody? I’ve never heard you say that before.” She laughed. “And while I appreciate the chivalry, I’m pretty sure the redemption is for you.”

“It’s a common expression. Also—” I reached out to steady Livvie after she slipped on one of the stairs. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. But seriously, James, can we
please
take the elevator once we get to the first platform? It’s over a thousand stairs to the very top.” She wrapped her arms around my neck as she caught her breath. Her forehead was a little sweaty and her cheeks were red from the cold. “Please?” She placed soft kisses on my cold cheek. “I’m begging.” I laughed as I took in the sight of her mischievous smile and raised eyebrow.

“I suppose,” I mumbled. I
really
did not want to get into that damn lift. I ride them very seldom and only while alone.

The first time I rode a lift was a few years after coming to live with Rafiq. He had business in Karachi and took me along. I must have been about sixteen or so. Rafiq didn’t warn me the damnable contraption would move, and when I got out of the moving box of death I vomited in the lobby. Not only did I not get to accompany him into his meeting, but he made me ride the lift up and down the entire time he was gone. It took me about seven or eight trips and a threat of bodily harm from a security guard before I stopped yelling as the lift traveled between floors.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever. You let me ride in elevators and everything.” Livvie laughed somewhat maniacally.

“Laugh it up, Pet. It’ll be
hilarious
when we get stuck and the smell of unclean tourist is invading your nostrils.” Livvie only laughed harder as we continued our trek up the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Sexy. I’ll protect you.” She turned and gave me a wink. Livvie was slowly picking up on some of my mannerisms and though I wouldn’t admit it, it always made me feel… content.

“Good. I’ll be the one trying to pry the doors open with my bare hands.”

***

“God! I think tomorrow I’m going to wear slippers all day. My feet are
killing
me.” Livvie hobbled toward the desk chair in our room and immediately reached for the strap holding her shoe in place.

“It was your idea to walk everywhere.” I laughed as I poked fun at her. “Now you’ll have blisters to commemorate our trip to Paris. You can tell Claudia all about the Parisian band-aids I purchased for you in the lobby.” I mockingly switched to her vernacular. “She’ll be
so jealous.
” I winced as I kicked off my shoes. Livvie glared.

“I just hope she’ll be able to hear me over the sound of her own laughter when I tell her how you yelled at that teenager and his girlfriend on the elevator.”

“They were jumping up and down! Shaking the whole thing. They’re lucky all I did was yell.” I pulled up a chair in front of Livvie and reached for one of her feet. I was tempted to tip her over to stop her belly laughing.

Her laughter turned into a long keening moan as I rubbed her foot with both hands.

“Oh! I will love you forever if you don’t stop.”

A strange pang rippled through my chest. I ignored it. If Livvie loved me, she wasn’t in any rush to let me know and I hadn’t brought up my feelings for her since Thanksgiving. We were taking things slow and getting to know each other. We’d discussed it at length. Regardless, the words stirred me. The void yawned as if waking from a nap.

“This isn’t chivalry,” I countered. “I fully expect you to return the favor when I’m done. Also, I think a good back massage is in order. My muscles are tense after having been locked up tight during our gradual and torturous ascension.”

Livvie smiled with her eyes closed.

“I love the way you say things.”

She was thoroughly lost to my ministrations. Her lack of tactful word choice didn’t even occur to her, and I suppose it made it that much easier to forgive. I knew that though she might not love me, she cared for me a great deal and would never hurt me on purpose.

Livvie continued, “I get a foot massage
and
the chance to rub you down? I really am the luckiest girl in Paris. Do you even notice how women look at you, Caleb? James. Whatever. You’re just… you’re fucking beautiful is what you are.”

“Handsome. I’m handsome. And no, I don’t notice. I’m too busy looking at you. Or using my carefully cultivated death-stare to threaten any man stupid enough to set eyes on you.” I smiled at the contented sigh this elicited from Livvie.

“Yes, you definitely have a way with words. You should be a writer; you’re certainly screwed up enough for the job.”

“Aren’t you the writer?”

Livvie opened her eyes and sat up. There was a brief moment when I perceived she was nervous, but it quickly faded. She was all flirty smiles when she spoke.

“Not really. It’s not like anyone reads my stuff. It’s all just on my laptop.”

“Not true. Claudia has apparently read your work. I don’t know if you know this, but I read. I could take a look if you’d like. Claudia seems to think it isn’t to be missed.”

Livvie slowly removed her foot from my lap and straddled me in my seat.

“What? You can read? I’m shocked!” She kissed me on the lips briefly.

“You’re trying to distract me,” I said, unimpressed.

“I am not. I’m just eager to give you that massage.” She rubbed my shoulders and I groaned. “Will there be some sort of oil involved? The idea of sliding my hands all over you is really appealing. I could take off all my clothes if you’d like.” She pressed her thumbs into my neck and ground her hips against me. I felt her breath as she whispered in my ear. “I’ll even do the front.”

“I won’t forget about this,” I said half-heartedly.

In all honesty, the only thing I was truly thinking about was slippery Livvie and how easy it would be to slide into her. Some days it seemed as though the only time I felt firmly connected to her was when I was literally inside her. I could imagine myself as her Prince Charming. I was not a monster. I was worthy. My heart was not an empty husk—it was engorged with blood and feeling.

“Hey,” Livvie whispered against my mouth. “Where’d you go, Sexy?” She was worried. I could hear it in her voice and memories threatened to invade. I hated how familiar her worry was to me. I made eye contact with her.

“I’m here, exactly where I want to be.”

She smiled.

“Me too.” She kissed me slowly, passionately, and inherent within the press of lips there was an undercurrent of gratitude. It was difficult for me to accept given our circumstances, but the void consumed it nonetheless. It had the gall to demand more.

“Tell me you’re mine, Livvie.” The past intruded.

“I’m yours, Caleb.” Her lips traveled across the side of my face and down my neck. Our attentions had gone from slow and passionate to fast and hungry. She sucked the flesh of my neck into her mouth, marking me. I already bore her scratches on my back. “And you’re mine. Only mine.”

I hated where Livvie and I had started. I loathed that I had ever wounded such an incredible person. However, the past was not without its comforts. It had been a time when I labored under the illusion of purpose and strength. Livvie unabashedly proclaimed her love for me and I held all the power. For all the horrors of my past, I took comfort in my understanding of the darkness in my soul. Livvie had let in the light and it blinded me. I groped for purchase within my new world. With Livvie at my side, I clung to her, powerless and oft times petrified. Moments like the one in which we found ourselves were sweet succor.

I undid the three tiny pearl buttons at Livvie’s nape with care before I forcefully pulled the zipper along the back. She made a startled but eager sound against my neck. I spread the fabric and let it slide down her arms, pinning them to her sides. Livvie whimpered as she writhed against me. Her hips made little thrusts as she chased her pleasure.

I put my mouth against her collarbone and sucked. I had left my own marks on Livvie: I’d scraped my teeth along her hipbones. I’d left my handprint on her ass. There was a bruise near her nipple where I’d pinched her while she came. Her pussy still had my come in it from the night before. What more did I need? What more did I deserve?

“You make me feel so good,” Livvie panted. Her knees dug into my hips and her hands tugged at my shirt in search of more contact. The long line of her throat, naked shoulders, and exposed cleavage were offered up to my mouth freely while Livvie’s head was tossed back. I let my lips brush against the purple mark I’d left on her collarbone.

“Only good? I must not be trying near hard enough.”

“Mmm… try harder then.”

I gripped her hips and ground her down hard against my erection. She pulled her arms free of her dress and wrapped them around my neck as she attempted to ride me. I canted her hips back and held her in place, feasting on her hungry little sounds.

“Again with that mouth. So saucy.”

“Caleb,” she purred. “Stop fucking around. You know what I want.”

I grinned.

“And what would that be?”

“You. Inside me.”

My cock gave a little leap of excitement.

“You want to feel me?” I put my hand beneath her dress, skimming the sensitive flesh of her thighs where her stockings squeezed. I decided I would buy her garters, like a French girl would wear. I continued my exploration, lifting the trim of her lacy panties so I could graze her with my fingertips.

“Yes… please.” I heard Livvie swallow. Her hips tried to guide my fingers. My finger pulled the scrap of fabric forward. Her panties were damp where her pussy had rested.

“Do you really think you deserve it? Am I the sort of man who appreciates a saucy mouth?” A memory:
“I like your saucy little mouth. I don't want to hurt it.”

“I—” She pressed forward, cunt seeking. “I hope so.”

I touched her with the back of my fingers.

“I do.” I whispered and took her mouth, both of them, at the same time. She shuddered. I pumped my fingers into her heat as I collected her moans in my mouth. Livvie’s pleasure was short lived. I withdrew my fingers slowly.