Vivienne's Guilt (13 page)

I feel her begin to relax when I whisper, “Be right back,” into her hair.

What the hell is going on?

I jog to catch up with Cassie, who is almost to her car by now. I could’ve just let her go by herself...I’m pretty sure she only asked me to follow her for a chance to get me alone. That probably sounds cocky, but I’m really good at reading chicks, and Cassie
isn’t
very good at hiding her signals.

“Cassie, wait up,” I call out.

She stops in her tracks and spins on her heels, rewarding me with a seductive smile. “Didn’t think you were coming,” she says, flirting with her eyes. They are beautiful eyes...green with yellow flecks that shimmer in the moonlight. Cassie is a huntress...a little vixen.

Shit! Why can’t I be interested in the one who is clearly interested in me? Why do I have to fall for complicated? Complicated? No, not just complicated...fucking impossible.

I avert my gaze, staring out at the lake. “I wasn’t, but I wanted to see if you have any idea what’s up with Vivienne. I’ve never seen her drink, and I didn’t think you girls drank that much tonight.”

A frown mars her beautiful face. I’ve made it clear that I’m not interested. My concern for her friend, however, softens the blow. Cassie doesn’t strike me as the type that gets shut down often.

She shrugs. “Viv doesn’t drink much. She probably had a few before we arrived and the wine was too much. She’s a funny drunk...really sensitive,” she laughs. “Just stay with her ’til she goes to bed, okay? Call me if you need anything, but she should be fine. She’ll pass out soon.”

“Okay...I’ll do that. Thanks, Cassie.”

She opens her car door and curls into the front seat. “No problem, Reid. Thanks for being here and looking out for her, even if she thinks she doesn’t need it. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“That’s what family does, right?”

She gives me a tense smile as she turns the key in the ignition. “I wouldn’t know.” Then she drives off, leaving me staring after her.

When I arrive back at the porch, I find Vivienne curled into a little ball, fast asleep.
God, she is so beautiful.
I lean against the brick and stare at the milky white skin of her exposed shoulder and the way her long lashes fan those freckled cheeks. She’s such an enigma. What is it that has me so drawn to her?

I need to get laid. Maybe I should take her up on having Kylie come and spend a few days...or weeks. I could use a distraction. This obsession with my aunt is disgusting...and not going away.

She stirs and lets out a soft moan, and my cock grows rigid in my jeans.
Seriously?

I walk over and tap Viv on the shoulder. “Viv...? Vivienne...?”

She peeks at me with one eye, shuts it, and rolls back over, grumbling.

Laughing to myself, I reach out and shake her this time. She opens her eyes and a smile that could light the night sky spreads across her face. I’ve never been looked at with such adoration. It feels good.
Real good.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to get past this when she keeps making me feel like maybe...maybe she feels something for me, too.

“Hey, you,” she says groggily, reaching her hand out to me.

“Hey...ready to go up to bed?” I ask, clasping her hand in mine and pulling her up to her feet.

“Mmmm,” she moans her approval. “That sounds like heaven. Let’s go.” Vivienne tugs my hand in the direction of the door, and I follow. I would allow this woman to lead me straight into the fires of hell if it meant that I could put my hands on her.

When we reach her bedroom, she starts stripping out of her clothes right in front of me. “Holy shit,” I breathe out.
What’s she doing? Not that I mind, but what. Is. She. Doing?
I try not to look, but, well...I’m a guy and completely infatuated with this woman...so I don’t try too hard.

When she’s down to just her black lace bra and panties, she pulls back the blankets and crawls into bed.
Thank God.

Vivienne yawns and pats the space beside her. “I know I...I know I drankkk too muchhh tonight, but can you just ho-hold me?”

A better man would say no—would tell her good night and walk out of this room without looking back. But when you’re eighteen and the cause of your raging hard on invites you, half-naked, into her bed to cuddle...you fucking cuddle.

Sorry, Uncle Abbott.

I convince myself that it is okay so long as I remain on top of the blankets. She needs me. This is what I’m here for, right? What kind of man would I be if I didn’t comfort this woman?

I round the bed and climb in on the opposite side, careful to remain on top of the bedding. I’m nervous. I’m never fucking nervous around women, but I don’t know if this is okay.

No...I know this is definitely
not
okay.

I don’t know what she’ll think when she’s sober, and I don’t want to give her any reason to believe that I am trying to take advantage of her delicate state. I scoot up next to Viv and lay on my side, facing her back...but not touching. I couldn’t hide the bulge in my pants if I tried.

I’ll let her decide how this is going to go.

Vivienne reaches over her shoulder and grips my hand. Shimmying her body back, she pulls my arm around her waist and snuggles into my chest. Viv begins to grind her sweet ass right into my cock, and I know she has to feel it.
Fuck!
I can’t take much more. Placing my hand on her hip to still her movements, I whisper, “Just sleep, Viv.” My voice is strained, my heart beating out of my chest.

What am I doing here?

Vivienne stiffens at my words. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, o-okay...goodnight.”

Removing my hand from her grasp, I reach up and begin to rub her hair. “Goodnight, Viv. Sweet dreams.”

Vivienne

The sunlight peering through the window beckons me to open my eyes, but I can’t. I just can’t. I felt him last night...felt his breath on my neck as I slept wrapped in his warm embrace. It was heaven, but now, as morning creeps in, so is reality, and I can’t bear it. I want to sleep, to dream, where it doesn’t take every ounce of my strength just to
be
.

I close my eyes tight and will the dream to come back.

Abbott, come back to me. I need you. Please don’t go...

He left me and along with him went the very essence of my being. I don’t know who I am without the glue that has held me together for so long. I’m losing myself a little more every day. It’s not getting easier. This grief is like an open wound, growing more tender and poisoned with infection by the day.

My shoulders begin to shake as I try to hold my tears at bay. Try as I might, I can’t get the dream back. I’m cold and alone, and this is who I am now...who I will be for the rest of my life.

Is it this hard for everyone? How? How do people go on with their lives?

I stare at my salvation through water-filled eyes...a prescription bottle that I don’t want to depend on...but can’t function without. Tears bead up in the corners of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I taste the salt of my pain as it slides down my lips to my chin and neck. I lay motionless and let silent tears soak my pillow.

My mind, body, and heart wage a silent war as I drown in my sorrow. I am coming to hate those pills because I want to be a real person without them. I don’t want to break down in tears every day, fifty times a day, when something...anything...everything reminds me of Abbott. He’s so deeply ingrained in every part of my life, of my being, that it’s impossible not to be constantly reminded of what I’ve lost.

Gripping my pillow, I bury my face inside and scream out in pain. “Arghh!” My entire body convulses with the force of my heaving sobs. “Why, God? Why
him
? Why
my
husband?”
It’s not fair.

Finally, when I’ve exhausted myself and am left gasping for breath, I give in to the pills taunting me from two feet away.

My body is spent.

I lie awake in bed and crave my husband. I crave his mind, his body, his touch...those expert hands that knew just how and where to touch me. I ache in places only he could ever reach. I miss the feel of his lips on my neck...The way my back arched off the bed and my toes curled when he made love to me. Abbott knew my body better than I did. Each time we connected, I could feel it in my heart...my soul...to my marrow.

Abbott was the first man to ever make love to me. What we had was sacred, and I know that I could never allow another to taint that. I don’t even know what it feels like to just have sex, but I know that without that emotional connection—that spark—that I would only be disappointed.

And the guilt...the guilt would be unbearable.

I
hate
this.

I know that I’m lucky to have found my soul mate. I’m lucky to have been worshiped and adored. Many people go their whole lives searching for that to no avail.

I cherish what we had. I do. But, to be without it for the rest of my life...to know exactly what I am missing. God, it hurts.

All I have left are memories...and how long will it take for those to fade, too?

I check the address I’ve written down against the one on the mailbox one last time before turning into the drive. Abbott asked me to meet him here tonight. I’m anxious...excited. We’ve been dating for two months, and I’ve never experienced sexual frustration of this magnitude. This is all I’ve wanted...all I’ve thought about. I’ve gone to bed every night imagining it. Now that the moment is here, I feel edgy. My heart beats to the rhythm of a hummingbird’s wings—like it could take off and fly right out of my chest.

The driveway seems to go on forever. It’s pitch dark out, and as I venture deeper and deeper down the wooded path, my anxiety starts to get to me. There are no lights, and I’m just on the verge of freaking out when I finally spot the little log cabin on the lake, and Abbott’s white Mustang parked to the side of the house. I breathe out a sigh of relief as I pull my old Honda Civic up next to his car.

Laying my forehead on the steering wheel, I sit for a few minutes and try to compose myself—to prepare myself. What the hell is wrong with me? My palms are sweating, and I can’t believe that I’m this worked up over sex. Hell, I don’t even know for sure that we are having sex.

Oh God...We’d better be having sex.

“Aghhh!” I scream and nearly have a heart attack when I turn and see Abbott peering in at me through the window. I press the button to let it down. “Abbott! You scared the shit out of me! You cannot sneak up on me in the forest like this.”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry, baby. I saw you just sitting here. You aren’t thinking of turning around and leaving me out here all alone, are you?”

“Abbott...” I cry, pleading with him to be on the same page for once...to need me the way that I need him.

Abbott reaches in, unlocks the door, and pulls it open. “Viv?” he questions. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks as he pulls me out of the car.

“I’m scared,” I answer honestly.

Abbott’s face falls. “Of what? Are you really that scared of the woods? We can leave. I just...I thought it would be a nice romantic weekend. Some alone time, away from the guys at the house. But it doesn’t have to be here. We can go to a hotel, or we can just go back home.”