(Chapter 27. December 26. Olivia's place.)
Steve stretched languidly and sighed in his sleep. He was having another of those near-waking dreams. He was in the woods and the scent of lavender was heavy in the air. He could hear rushing water, a lot of it, and a redheaded, freckle-faced water-fairy sang to him in an ethereal voice. He was certain he knew the song, but he couldn't quite dredge the words from his memory.
Looking around, he realized he was standing on a broad, green island in the middle of a river with waterfalls on either side cascading hundreds of feet to the rocks below. Soon, he recognized the water-fairy as his own beloved Olivia. She was dancing at the edge of the falls, daring the rushing water to sweep her over.
"Liv, be careful." He reached out to her, wanting to draw her into the safety of his arms, but she danced away lightly, laughing at him.
"Olivia, I mean it. Those rocks are dangerous." He stepped closer, but she skipped away, light-footed as a faun, taunting him.
"Come on, babe, you'll have to do better than that if you want me."
With nary a thought for his own safety, he launched himself at her, but she floated away from him on sparkling gossamer wings. Chagrined, he reminded himself that this was a dream and she was a magical creature. He chased after her across the edge of the falls, and for a brief moment had her in his arms. Without warning, she blinked out of existence.
Suddenly things went very badly. He slipped on a slime-covered rock, and went down in the water. He clung desperately to a slick boulder as the powerful current fought to tear him loose. Icy water and silt rushed full into his face, filling his nose and mouth and sinuses, causing him to splutter and gag. Olivia was no longer flitting about on her fairy wings. Instead, she lay stretched to full length on the green island, reaching for him and begging him to reach out to her. Her face was ashen, and there was real panic in her voice.
"Steve! You have to try, love! It's your only chance! Please!"
Heart pounding, gasping for breath, he decided she was right. With a supreme effort, he threw out an arm to grab on to her. Their hands met, and he felt her grip close. She inched her way backward onto the island, never loosening her grip, and when she was as far back as she could get, Steve let go of the boulder, trusting everything to her.
He swung his other hand over his head and grabbed for her. At that moment, their hands slipped. Steve scrabbled frantically for purchase as the inexorable tug of the river dragged him down. Olivia's hands, the grass at the edge of the island, and the river rocks all slipped from his grasp. Finally, he felt himself hurtling to the rocks below.
He landed on the floor with a thump and an "oooff." Soaked in sweat, he sat upright and took a moment to get his bearings. His heart rate and respiration slowed as he realized he was in Olivia's bedroom. She must have already been in the shower, because he heard the water running, and over the noise, he heard her voice singing a familiar melody. After Christmas dinner and exchanging gifts at home, he had driven Olivia back to her place. She meant to honor her implied promise to let him unwrap his "special package" as a reward for playing Santa at the party. He was loath to admit he didn't need any reward for doing the good deed. It had been great fun.
For a moment, he tried to recall the dream that had landed him on the floor, but quickly decided that he didn't want to explore the vague memories any further. He had a feeling if he remembered it, he'd want to analyze it, and for some reason he knew he wouldn't be comfortable with the results of that analysis.
He took off his leg-brace, slowly got to his feet--he was still a little stiff in the mornings--and he got his overnight bag out of the closet where Olivia had made a permanent space for it. Since he was planning to spend the night, he had brought a change of clothes and his brace. He smiled as he remembered the first night, barely more than a week ago, when he had brought it to her house. He'd been concerned that it would create some awkwardness. Olivia, true to form, had dealt with any worries he might have quickly and directly. First, she got him all hot and bothered and naked, and then she gently cajoled him into showing her how the brace fit and how he got it on. He realized that she probably knew more about the device than he did, but he also knew she was putting him at ease by making him talk about it.
"It's going to be part of our life for a while," she'd said. "We might as well learn to work with it now instead of later."
"Are you sure it doesn't bother you," he'd asked, feeling warmed by the phrase 'our life,' but not knowing how to tell her.
She'd put a hand over his heart, and had taken his hand and placed it over her heart. "This is all that matters to me, babe."
Once when his leg had cramped up on him, she had sat up and taken it in her lap and had gently rubbed the pain away.
"Does this happen often?" she'd asked.
"Every night," he'd told her through gritted teeth.
"Wow." She'd continued kneading the rock-hard knot of muscles in his calf. "Do you take anything for it?"
He had nodded tensely. "It's in my bag. Something Jesse prescribed."
After a few more moments of massaging his leg, she had gotten the medication for him and brought him a glass of water. Reading the bottle, she told him, "If you take one of these about half an hour before you put the brace on, you shouldn't have any trouble with cramps, but never take more than one. It contains a narcotic." Once the medication took effect, they had gone back to exploring each other's bodies. He'd followed her advice and his brace never got in their way again.
He grinned lopsidedly as he got a change of clothes out of his bag. Olivia had certainly done most of the exploring last night!
He still couldn't believe she'd talked him in to letting her tie him up. After spending two months in a body cast of one form or another, he was still very claustrophobic, and even the light silken bonds that she tied loosely around his wrists and ankles had set his heart hammering in his chest.
She teased and taunted him for what seemed like hours, using her hands, her mouth, and other parts of her to bring him to the edge of climax time and again. Each time he reached what seemed to be the point of no return, she backed off, leaving him breathless and yearning for release. Whenever he forgot his situation and tried to hold or touch her, the ropes were there to remind him that he was at her mercy, and they made his heart pound anew every time. It had been sweet torture!
He asked about her sudden boldness, and she explained that she had attended a seminar a few days ago. She wanted to get better at making love to him, but she hadn't wanted to bore him with too many questions in bed. So, she confessed her lack of experience to the presenters and then quizzed them on a hundred and one topics.
Steve had been delighted as she'd explained and demonstrated some of the things she had learned. He was deeply flattered that she had gone to such lengths to please him, and he told her so. She'd smiled wickedly and told him her motives were purely selfish. "I just wanted to be in charge, but I didn't know what to do."
She made him writhe and twist and strain against his bonds, and a couple of times, he nearly begged her for release of one kind or another, but she seemed so pleased with herself and what she'd learned to do to him, that he took it as a personal challenge to hold on until she gave him permission to let go. A few times, the sense of vulnerability at being her prisoner had become nearly overwhelming, and a vague fear would vie with his arousal, but she sensed his distress and soothed his fraying nerves. Overall, he thoroughly enjoyed himself until she blindfolded him without warning or consent.
She had been telling him how even mild sensory deprivation could heighten arousal when out of nowhere she slipped a silken blindfold over his eyes. It all happened before he had a chance to protest, and when he reached to push the blindfold away and felt the ropes pulling at his wrists again, he truly panicked.
"Oh, God, Liv, don't do that!" he'd shouted as his world went dark. He'd gotten dizzy and had found it odd that he could feel dizzy when he couldn't see the world spinning. He started hyperventilating when she stepped away and he couldn't feel her presence any more.
"Please, Liv!" he'd screamed, "I can't handle this. Take the blindfold off!"
The cords that bound his wrists and ankles tightened as he continued to struggle, and they cut deeply into his flesh. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds at most, he felt her soft hands cupping his face and he heard her voice, shushing him gently.
"Shh. It's ok. Be still so I can take it off," she said.
It was the first time she had ever hushed him. In all he'd been through, she had never once asked him to still his emotions. Around her, he'd always been free, always had permission, always felt *safe* to show exactly what he felt. Now it was as if she was denying him the right to be afraid, and it made him unreasonably angry. He exploded at her.
"Don't shush me, goddammit! Just take the fucking blindfold off!"
She had already done so, and was trying to remove the cord from his left wrist. He saw her bite her lip and watched her trembling hands as she picked frantically at the knot. He could see her eyes were full of tears waiting to spill over.
He felt bad about upsetting her. He knew she was very sensitive and that rough language bothered her. He wanted to soothe her, to apologize, to make things right, but he didn't know what to say. His heart was still pounding with his own terror, and all he could hear was the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The longer the silence stretched, the more her hands shook and the more trouble she had undoing the knot. The tears finally spilled from her eyes. Her actions became increasingly desperate until suddenly she let loose an unearthly moan of frustration. The keen, animal sound made Steve's insides ache and his skin crawl. He shivered uncontrollably as he considered what to do next.
He managed to twist his hand around until he could take hold of hers, and he said, more softly than he thought he could at that moment, "Stop. It's ok."
Her hands ceased picking at the knot, but they continued to tremble.
"Take a deep breath," he told her in a low singsong voice pitched just above a whisper, and she obeyed.
"Good." His hands and feet started going numb, but he could wait a bit longer.
"Look at me, Liv."
Again, she complied.
The haunted look in her eyes tore his heart to little pieces. The woman he knew was no longer there. All he saw was an innocent, frightened child. Suddenly, he wanted to cry, too, but he knew it was his place to comfort her, so he took a deep breath, stilled his thoughts, and said, "I'm sorry I yelled, and I shouldn't have cursed at you. I was frightened. I'm not ready to go any further right now, and I guess I…freaked out."
He watched her, and was very concerned to see that she continued crying and biting her lip. The frightened deer look still hadn't left her eyes. He let her go back to picking at the knot on his left wrist and noticed that her hands were steadier, but she quickly began to get frustrated again.
"Liv."
He cringed to see her jump at sound of his voice saying her name. He tried again.
"Liv, get a pair of scissors. Cut it loose."
Without a word, she climbed off the bed. She was gone so long he felt a fine mist of panic begin to envelope him. Finally, she returned and still without a word climbed up on the bed and cut him loose. At least she had finally stopped crying, but that sad look shredded his soul.
He sat up and gently took the scissors from her hand and dropped them to the floor under the bed. He wasn't sure then what exactly had happened between them, but he knew they were at a critical moment. She refused to look at him, and he knew better than to try and make her.
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and said, "Liv, don't look so sad. Most of it was lots of fun, and I'm…honored…that you would be willing to find someone to teach you how to do all that for me. I just wasn't ready to go so far so fast. I'm a little claustrophobic," he grinned and finished, "and I'm still afraid of the dark."
Suddenly, she threw herself against him with such force that he lost his breath and she started sobbing. When she started to speak, her words came in a torrent of barely coherent babble.
"Oh, Steve," she wept. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to frighten you. I really wanted you to enjoy tonight, but I'm just no good at this."
He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently as she continued.
"I wanted this to be really good," she wailed, "but I've totally ruined it. Please, don't be angry. You're the best thing that's ever happened in my life, and I don't want to lose you. Please give me another chance. Please don't leave!"
Raw, terrified sobs shook her slight frame as he continued to rock her and kiss her hair. She continued to beg incoherently until he said, "I'm not going anywhere, Liv. You don't have to worry about that. Just calm down so we can talk."
Slowly, as Steve held her against him and whispered and rubbed her back, she brought her emotions under control. Finally, she reached over to the nightstand and took a tissue with which she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
In hiccups, she told him, "I just…wanted it…to be fun. I never expected you…to get so upset."
He continued to cradle her to his chest as they talked. "Oh, baby, it was fun until the lights went out. I know you didn't want to frighten me. It's just one of those things. Neither of us could have predicted it."
"So you're not mad?"
"I was for a second, sweetheart, but not any more. You told me to hush. You've never, ever done that before, and I didn't like it." Steve was rambling softly, trying to keep her talking. All of his words were true, but ordinarily he wouldn't have given them voice. He was trying to put some space between them and what had just transpired.
She sat quietly, so he continued. "I've always been able to let my feelings show around you. It felt like you were changing the rules, and it made me mad. But I didn't have any right to swear at you. I know that disturbs you, and I'm sorry."
She sniffed a bit and said in a childish voice, "It's not the cursing that bothers me. It's the yelling. I don't like to be yelled at. It hurts my feelings, and sometimes it frightens me."
He kissed her hair, her temple, and her ear and then asked, "Why does it frighten you?"
She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders and said, "When I was small, sometimes Mama and Daddy would send one or another of us kids to stay with Grandma Gretchen and Grandpa Henry for a few days to visit. He was a drunk, and sometimes he'd get mad and start to yell. When he got tired of yelling, he'd start to hit people." She stuck out her lower lip in a pout.
Steve probed gently, "Did he hit you?"
She nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head no.
"What do you want to do?"
She shrugged her shoulders again.
Steve waited.
And waited.
And fumed.
He wasn't surprised to find Olivia had been abused as a child. For some reason, he felt as if he'd always been aware of it. Perhaps the air of sadness that sometimes surrounded her had tipped him off. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, he'd known before she'd ever told him, and it didn't make him any less angry with the man who had hurt her.
He felt terrible to have upset her so, but he was also relieved that she had finally told him her secret. Surely now that he knew about her past, she would open up to him. She kept insisting that he hardly knew her, but maybe now she would feel safe telling him her thoughts and dreams.
Maybe now, he could ask her to marry him and get her to say yes.
He knew she must be wrestling with some painful memories, and it seemed the best thing he could do for her was just hold her. He was afraid to say anything or even to move too much. He had apparently terrified her as much as she had him, but while his fear had passed quickly after the blindfold had been removed, hers had endured for perhaps thirty years or more. She seemed to feel safe in his arms, so he was willing to shelter her there until she was ready to leave.
For a long time, she just sat in his arms, leaning against him, drawing strength. Her breathing slowed and deepened. She sighed and shifted position. Just when he thought she was drifting off to sleep, she turned and began to nibble on his earlobe.
"Steve," the vibration of her voice so close to his ear made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
"Mmm?"
She giggled, still nibbling and sucking on his earlobe. "I think I know what I want to do."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm sure." She placed a kiss behind his ear so softly that it made him shiver to the tips of his toes. "I don't want ghosts of the past to haunt the present. Maybe this time, you can show me what you like."
His eyes slid closed for a moment. He grinned, amazed at her resilience, and sighed. "Mmmm-hmmm."
She giggled again and slipped her tongue inside his ear….
Steve snapped back to the present with a start and found that the memories of last night had him strongly aroused. He took several deep breaths. He had promised to take Olivia to Disney World today, and she wanted to get an early start. She could get so giddy over the smallest things. He sometimes wondered how much fun she'd had as a child.
He laid out a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. When he opened the door, he was enveloped in fragrant steam. He smiled at the scent of lavender. Olivia was singing in the shower, an old Billie Holiday tune.
"All of me, why not take all of me…"
"I'd be glad to," he interrupted, recognizing the fairy voice from his dream and wondering why he'd been dreaming of a fairy.
"Good morning, handsome!" she called over the sound of the shower. "Wanna join me?"
"Do you mean that today? Yesterday I ended up setting the table."
"Oh, I mean it this morning. Come on in, the water's perfect!"
Gladly, he slid the shower door aside and stepped in.
She turned to greet him with a big hug. When she stepped back, she looked down at the obvious sign of his arousal and said, "Well, hello Mr. Happy! Good morning to you, too."
Steve felt himself blush at the sound of her giggle, but he had to laugh with her. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist, placed his hands on her shapely derriere, and as he lifted her up to him, gave silent thanks that his strength had fully returned. She was so much shorter than him that making love in the shower would have proven quite a challenge if he had not been able to lift her.
It was a slow, gentle loving. He delighted in each small moan, sigh, and gasp that he elicited from her. By the time the water dancing on their skin went cold, they were both so hot they barely noticed. After their pleasure had peaked, they rinsed quickly and Olivia turned off the water.
"Let's go," she said. "I've been waiting my whole life to meet the mouse."
Weeks ago she had told him of Sunday evenings in her childhood when her whole family would gather around the television with hot chocolate and popcorn to watch Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney. He had offered to take her to Disney World then, and she had been begging him ever since to pick a day. Yesterday when he had told her today was the day, she had become almost as excited as when he had returned her great grandmother's watch.
They both stood naked before the bathroom mirror, enjoying the view. She brushed her teeth while he shaved. When Steve looked away from the mirror to admire the view from the back, he noticed a long, red scar to the right of her spine. He ran one finger lightly along it, and Olivia jumped as if she had been burned.
"Sorry, sweetie."
She rinsed and spat and said, "It's all right."
Steve was surprised that he'd never seen the scar before, but then he realized that he'd never seen her naked back. His curiosity got the better of him.
"What happened?"
She shrugged her shoulders. He'd begun to notice that she did that whenever she had something difficult to talk about.
"Just a little accident I had when I was a kid."
Steve shook his head and said, "No, hon, that wasn't an accident. I know a surgical scar when I see one." He met her eyes in the reflection in the mirror. "If you don't want to tell me about it, say so, but please don't fib."
She nodded, sighed, and said, "I was eight years old, and Grandpa Henry was drunk. I found him in the garden shed, and I don't remember what I did to set him off, but he knocked me clear across the shed and into the wall. I hit the handle of a scythe and it fell off the nail from which it was hanging. The blade came down on my back and stabbed me through the kidney. I nearly died. They widened the entrance wound to repair the damage, then stitched me up."
She turned to face him and pointed to a scar half an inch long on her abdomen. "It went all the way through me, see? This is where the tip came out."
Steve shuddered involuntarily both at the horror of what had happened and at her innocence in the retelling of it.
"Daddy beat the tar out of Grandpa Henry. Mama left him and us kids for a few months. She was mad that he'd beat up her daddy."
"But it was ok for her father to beat up her children," Steve growled, staring at the reflection of her scarred back in the mirror. "That's shameful."
Olivia took his face between her hands and made him look at her. "Sweetheart," she said, "don't you dare be angry for me. It was almost thirty years ago. Mama came home, she and Daddy made up, and none of us kids ever had to spend the night there again." She trembled as Steve ran a finger along the scar again. "Mama and I made our peace about it. I have forgiven her and Grandpa Henry. I don't have the energy to be angry or to hate them for it any more."
"But, Liv, what they did to you…"
"What they did to me was wrong," she interrupted. "I know that. I was ashamed of it for a long time, and I hated them for it even longer. But hating someone is like burning down your own house to get rid of a rat. You get rid of the people whom you hate by driving them away, but there's nothing left worth having."
"So you just let it go?"
She nodded. "I just let it go. My mama and my grandpa loved me. They couldn't help what they did. If they could, it never would have happened. I can't be angry at them for something that was beyond their control."
"He was a grown man," Steve protested fiercely. "He shouldn't have beaten up on a little kid, and your mother should have protected you."
She shook her head. "He was a kind and loving grandfather who sometimes turned into a mean old drunk. Mama was his little girl and she adored her daddy. They couldn't help themselves. I still loved them, so I had to forgive them."
His expression softened with understanding. "Otherwise there would have been nothing left worth having."
She nodded and smiled.
He threw his arms around her and pulled her close in a savage hug. "No one will ever hurt you again. I promise."
Steve stretched languidly and sighed in his sleep. He was having another of those near-waking dreams. He was in the woods and the scent of lavender was heavy in the air. He could hear rushing water, a lot of it, and a redheaded, freckle-faced water-fairy sang to him in an ethereal voice. He was certain he knew the song, but he couldn't quite dredge the words from his memory.
Looking around, he realized he was standing on a broad, green island in the middle of a river with waterfalls on either side cascading hundreds of feet to the rocks below. Soon, he recognized the water-fairy as his own beloved Olivia. She was dancing at the edge of the falls, daring the rushing water to sweep her over.
"Liv, be careful." He reached out to her, wanting to draw her into the safety of his arms, but she danced away lightly, laughing at him.
"Olivia, I mean it. Those rocks are dangerous." He stepped closer, but she skipped away, light-footed as a faun, taunting him.
"Come on, babe, you'll have to do better than that if you want me."
With nary a thought for his own safety, he launched himself at her, but she floated away from him on sparkling gossamer wings. Chagrined, he reminded himself that this was a dream and she was a magical creature. He chased after her across the edge of the falls, and for a brief moment had her in his arms. Without warning, she blinked out of existence.
Suddenly things went very badly. He slipped on a slime-covered rock, and went down in the water. He clung desperately to a slick boulder as the powerful current fought to tear him loose. Icy water and silt rushed full into his face, filling his nose and mouth and sinuses, causing him to splutter and gag. Olivia was no longer flitting about on her fairy wings. Instead, she lay stretched to full length on the green island, reaching for him and begging him to reach out to her. Her face was ashen, and there was real panic in her voice.
"Steve! You have to try, love! It's your only chance! Please!"
Heart pounding, gasping for breath, he decided she was right. With a supreme effort, he threw out an arm to grab on to her. Their hands met, and he felt her grip close. She inched her way backward onto the island, never loosening her grip, and when she was as far back as she could get, Steve let go of the boulder, trusting everything to her.
He swung his other hand over his head and grabbed for her. At that moment, their hands slipped. Steve scrabbled frantically for purchase as the inexorable tug of the river dragged him down. Olivia's hands, the grass at the edge of the island, and the river rocks all slipped from his grasp. Finally, he felt himself hurtling to the rocks below.
He landed on the floor with a thump and an "oooff." Soaked in sweat, he sat upright and took a moment to get his bearings. His heart rate and respiration slowed as he realized he was in Olivia's bedroom. She must have already been in the shower, because he heard the water running, and over the noise, he heard her voice singing a familiar melody. After Christmas dinner and exchanging gifts at home, he had driven Olivia back to her place. She meant to honor her implied promise to let him unwrap his "special package" as a reward for playing Santa at the party. He was loath to admit he didn't need any reward for doing the good deed. It had been great fun.
For a moment, he tried to recall the dream that had landed him on the floor, but quickly decided that he didn't want to explore the vague memories any further. He had a feeling if he remembered it, he'd want to analyze it, and for some reason he knew he wouldn't be comfortable with the results of that analysis.
He took off his leg-brace, slowly got to his feet--he was still a little stiff in the mornings--and he got his overnight bag out of the closet where Olivia had made a permanent space for it. Since he was planning to spend the night, he had brought a change of clothes and his brace. He smiled as he remembered the first night, barely more than a week ago, when he had brought it to her house. He'd been concerned that it would create some awkwardness. Olivia, true to form, had dealt with any worries he might have quickly and directly. First, she got him all hot and bothered and naked, and then she gently cajoled him into showing her how the brace fit and how he got it on. He realized that she probably knew more about the device than he did, but he also knew she was putting him at ease by making him talk about it.
"It's going to be part of our life for a while," she'd said. "We might as well learn to work with it now instead of later."
"Are you sure it doesn't bother you," he'd asked, feeling warmed by the phrase 'our life,' but not knowing how to tell her.
She'd put a hand over his heart, and had taken his hand and placed it over her heart. "This is all that matters to me, babe."
Once when his leg had cramped up on him, she had sat up and taken it in her lap and had gently rubbed the pain away.
"Does this happen often?" she'd asked.
"Every night," he'd told her through gritted teeth.
"Wow." She'd continued kneading the rock-hard knot of muscles in his calf. "Do you take anything for it?"
He had nodded tensely. "It's in my bag. Something Jesse prescribed."
After a few more moments of massaging his leg, she had gotten the medication for him and brought him a glass of water. Reading the bottle, she told him, "If you take one of these about half an hour before you put the brace on, you shouldn't have any trouble with cramps, but never take more than one. It contains a narcotic." Once the medication took effect, they had gone back to exploring each other's bodies. He'd followed her advice and his brace never got in their way again.
He grinned lopsidedly as he got a change of clothes out of his bag. Olivia had certainly done most of the exploring last night!
He still couldn't believe she'd talked him in to letting her tie him up. After spending two months in a body cast of one form or another, he was still very claustrophobic, and even the light silken bonds that she tied loosely around his wrists and ankles had set his heart hammering in his chest.
She teased and taunted him for what seemed like hours, using her hands, her mouth, and other parts of her to bring him to the edge of climax time and again. Each time he reached what seemed to be the point of no return, she backed off, leaving him breathless and yearning for release. Whenever he forgot his situation and tried to hold or touch her, the ropes were there to remind him that he was at her mercy, and they made his heart pound anew every time. It had been sweet torture!
He asked about her sudden boldness, and she explained that she had attended a seminar a few days ago. She wanted to get better at making love to him, but she hadn't wanted to bore him with too many questions in bed. So, she confessed her lack of experience to the presenters and then quizzed them on a hundred and one topics.
Steve had been delighted as she'd explained and demonstrated some of the things she had learned. He was deeply flattered that she had gone to such lengths to please him, and he told her so. She'd smiled wickedly and told him her motives were purely selfish. "I just wanted to be in charge, but I didn't know what to do."
She made him writhe and twist and strain against his bonds, and a couple of times, he nearly begged her for release of one kind or another, but she seemed so pleased with herself and what she'd learned to do to him, that he took it as a personal challenge to hold on until she gave him permission to let go. A few times, the sense of vulnerability at being her prisoner had become nearly overwhelming, and a vague fear would vie with his arousal, but she sensed his distress and soothed his fraying nerves. Overall, he thoroughly enjoyed himself until she blindfolded him without warning or consent.
She had been telling him how even mild sensory deprivation could heighten arousal when out of nowhere she slipped a silken blindfold over his eyes. It all happened before he had a chance to protest, and when he reached to push the blindfold away and felt the ropes pulling at his wrists again, he truly panicked.
"Oh, God, Liv, don't do that!" he'd shouted as his world went dark. He'd gotten dizzy and had found it odd that he could feel dizzy when he couldn't see the world spinning. He started hyperventilating when she stepped away and he couldn't feel her presence any more.
"Please, Liv!" he'd screamed, "I can't handle this. Take the blindfold off!"
The cords that bound his wrists and ankles tightened as he continued to struggle, and they cut deeply into his flesh. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds at most, he felt her soft hands cupping his face and he heard her voice, shushing him gently.
"Shh. It's ok. Be still so I can take it off," she said.
It was the first time she had ever hushed him. In all he'd been through, she had never once asked him to still his emotions. Around her, he'd always been free, always had permission, always felt *safe* to show exactly what he felt. Now it was as if she was denying him the right to be afraid, and it made him unreasonably angry. He exploded at her.
"Don't shush me, goddammit! Just take the fucking blindfold off!"
She had already done so, and was trying to remove the cord from his left wrist. He saw her bite her lip and watched her trembling hands as she picked frantically at the knot. He could see her eyes were full of tears waiting to spill over.
He felt bad about upsetting her. He knew she was very sensitive and that rough language bothered her. He wanted to soothe her, to apologize, to make things right, but he didn't know what to say. His heart was still pounding with his own terror, and all he could hear was the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The longer the silence stretched, the more her hands shook and the more trouble she had undoing the knot. The tears finally spilled from her eyes. Her actions became increasingly desperate until suddenly she let loose an unearthly moan of frustration. The keen, animal sound made Steve's insides ache and his skin crawl. He shivered uncontrollably as he considered what to do next.
He managed to twist his hand around until he could take hold of hers, and he said, more softly than he thought he could at that moment, "Stop. It's ok."
Her hands ceased picking at the knot, but they continued to tremble.
"Take a deep breath," he told her in a low singsong voice pitched just above a whisper, and she obeyed.
"Good." His hands and feet started going numb, but he could wait a bit longer.
"Look at me, Liv."
Again, she complied.
The haunted look in her eyes tore his heart to little pieces. The woman he knew was no longer there. All he saw was an innocent, frightened child. Suddenly, he wanted to cry, too, but he knew it was his place to comfort her, so he took a deep breath, stilled his thoughts, and said, "I'm sorry I yelled, and I shouldn't have cursed at you. I was frightened. I'm not ready to go any further right now, and I guess I…freaked out."
He watched her, and was very concerned to see that she continued crying and biting her lip. The frightened deer look still hadn't left her eyes. He let her go back to picking at the knot on his left wrist and noticed that her hands were steadier, but she quickly began to get frustrated again.
"Liv."
He cringed to see her jump at sound of his voice saying her name. He tried again.
"Liv, get a pair of scissors. Cut it loose."
Without a word, she climbed off the bed. She was gone so long he felt a fine mist of panic begin to envelope him. Finally, she returned and still without a word climbed up on the bed and cut him loose. At least she had finally stopped crying, but that sad look shredded his soul.
He sat up and gently took the scissors from her hand and dropped them to the floor under the bed. He wasn't sure then what exactly had happened between them, but he knew they were at a critical moment. She refused to look at him, and he knew better than to try and make her.
He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and said, "Liv, don't look so sad. Most of it was lots of fun, and I'm…honored…that you would be willing to find someone to teach you how to do all that for me. I just wasn't ready to go so far so fast. I'm a little claustrophobic," he grinned and finished, "and I'm still afraid of the dark."
Suddenly, she threw herself against him with such force that he lost his breath and she started sobbing. When she started to speak, her words came in a torrent of barely coherent babble.
"Oh, Steve," she wept. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to frighten you. I really wanted you to enjoy tonight, but I'm just no good at this."
He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently as she continued.
"I wanted this to be really good," she wailed, "but I've totally ruined it. Please, don't be angry. You're the best thing that's ever happened in my life, and I don't want to lose you. Please give me another chance. Please don't leave!"
Raw, terrified sobs shook her slight frame as he continued to rock her and kiss her hair. She continued to beg incoherently until he said, "I'm not going anywhere, Liv. You don't have to worry about that. Just calm down so we can talk."
Slowly, as Steve held her against him and whispered and rubbed her back, she brought her emotions under control. Finally, she reached over to the nightstand and took a tissue with which she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
In hiccups, she told him, "I just…wanted it…to be fun. I never expected you…to get so upset."
He continued to cradle her to his chest as they talked. "Oh, baby, it was fun until the lights went out. I know you didn't want to frighten me. It's just one of those things. Neither of us could have predicted it."
"So you're not mad?"
"I was for a second, sweetheart, but not any more. You told me to hush. You've never, ever done that before, and I didn't like it." Steve was rambling softly, trying to keep her talking. All of his words were true, but ordinarily he wouldn't have given them voice. He was trying to put some space between them and what had just transpired.
She sat quietly, so he continued. "I've always been able to let my feelings show around you. It felt like you were changing the rules, and it made me mad. But I didn't have any right to swear at you. I know that disturbs you, and I'm sorry."
She sniffed a bit and said in a childish voice, "It's not the cursing that bothers me. It's the yelling. I don't like to be yelled at. It hurts my feelings, and sometimes it frightens me."
He kissed her hair, her temple, and her ear and then asked, "Why does it frighten you?"
She bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders and said, "When I was small, sometimes Mama and Daddy would send one or another of us kids to stay with Grandma Gretchen and Grandpa Henry for a few days to visit. He was a drunk, and sometimes he'd get mad and start to yell. When he got tired of yelling, he'd start to hit people." She stuck out her lower lip in a pout.
Steve probed gently, "Did he hit you?"
She nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head no.
"What do you want to do?"
She shrugged her shoulders again.
Steve waited.
And waited.
And fumed.
He wasn't surprised to find Olivia had been abused as a child. For some reason, he felt as if he'd always been aware of it. Perhaps the air of sadness that sometimes surrounded her had tipped him off. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, he'd known before she'd ever told him, and it didn't make him any less angry with the man who had hurt her.
He felt terrible to have upset her so, but he was also relieved that she had finally told him her secret. Surely now that he knew about her past, she would open up to him. She kept insisting that he hardly knew her, but maybe now she would feel safe telling him her thoughts and dreams.
Maybe now, he could ask her to marry him and get her to say yes.
He knew she must be wrestling with some painful memories, and it seemed the best thing he could do for her was just hold her. He was afraid to say anything or even to move too much. He had apparently terrified her as much as she had him, but while his fear had passed quickly after the blindfold had been removed, hers had endured for perhaps thirty years or more. She seemed to feel safe in his arms, so he was willing to shelter her there until she was ready to leave.
For a long time, she just sat in his arms, leaning against him, drawing strength. Her breathing slowed and deepened. She sighed and shifted position. Just when he thought she was drifting off to sleep, she turned and began to nibble on his earlobe.
"Steve," the vibration of her voice so close to his ear made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
"Mmm?"
She giggled, still nibbling and sucking on his earlobe. "I think I know what I want to do."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm sure." She placed a kiss behind his ear so softly that it made him shiver to the tips of his toes. "I don't want ghosts of the past to haunt the present. Maybe this time, you can show me what you like."
His eyes slid closed for a moment. He grinned, amazed at her resilience, and sighed. "Mmmm-hmmm."
She giggled again and slipped her tongue inside his ear….
Steve snapped back to the present with a start and found that the memories of last night had him strongly aroused. He took several deep breaths. He had promised to take Olivia to Disney World today, and she wanted to get an early start. She could get so giddy over the smallest things. He sometimes wondered how much fun she'd had as a child.
He laid out a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. When he opened the door, he was enveloped in fragrant steam. He smiled at the scent of lavender. Olivia was singing in the shower, an old Billie Holiday tune.
"All of me, why not take all of me…"
"I'd be glad to," he interrupted, recognizing the fairy voice from his dream and wondering why he'd been dreaming of a fairy.
"Good morning, handsome!" she called over the sound of the shower. "Wanna join me?"
"Do you mean that today? Yesterday I ended up setting the table."
"Oh, I mean it this morning. Come on in, the water's perfect!"
Gladly, he slid the shower door aside and stepped in.
She turned to greet him with a big hug. When she stepped back, she looked down at the obvious sign of his arousal and said, "Well, hello Mr. Happy! Good morning to you, too."
Steve felt himself blush at the sound of her giggle, but he had to laugh with her. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist, placed his hands on her shapely derriere, and as he lifted her up to him, gave silent thanks that his strength had fully returned. She was so much shorter than him that making love in the shower would have proven quite a challenge if he had not been able to lift her.
It was a slow, gentle loving. He delighted in each small moan, sigh, and gasp that he elicited from her. By the time the water dancing on their skin went cold, they were both so hot they barely noticed. After their pleasure had peaked, they rinsed quickly and Olivia turned off the water.
"Let's go," she said. "I've been waiting my whole life to meet the mouse."
Weeks ago she had told him of Sunday evenings in her childhood when her whole family would gather around the television with hot chocolate and popcorn to watch Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney. He had offered to take her to Disney World then, and she had been begging him ever since to pick a day. Yesterday when he had told her today was the day, she had become almost as excited as when he had returned her great grandmother's watch.
They both stood naked before the bathroom mirror, enjoying the view. She brushed her teeth while he shaved. When Steve looked away from the mirror to admire the view from the back, he noticed a long, red scar to the right of her spine. He ran one finger lightly along it, and Olivia jumped as if she had been burned.
"Sorry, sweetie."
She rinsed and spat and said, "It's all right."
Steve was surprised that he'd never seen the scar before, but then he realized that he'd never seen her naked back. His curiosity got the better of him.
"What happened?"
She shrugged her shoulders. He'd begun to notice that she did that whenever she had something difficult to talk about.
"Just a little accident I had when I was a kid."
Steve shook his head and said, "No, hon, that wasn't an accident. I know a surgical scar when I see one." He met her eyes in the reflection in the mirror. "If you don't want to tell me about it, say so, but please don't fib."
She nodded, sighed, and said, "I was eight years old, and Grandpa Henry was drunk. I found him in the garden shed, and I don't remember what I did to set him off, but he knocked me clear across the shed and into the wall. I hit the handle of a scythe and it fell off the nail from which it was hanging. The blade came down on my back and stabbed me through the kidney. I nearly died. They widened the entrance wound to repair the damage, then stitched me up."
She turned to face him and pointed to a scar half an inch long on her abdomen. "It went all the way through me, see? This is where the tip came out."
Steve shuddered involuntarily both at the horror of what had happened and at her innocence in the retelling of it.
"Daddy beat the tar out of Grandpa Henry. Mama left him and us kids for a few months. She was mad that he'd beat up her daddy."
"But it was ok for her father to beat up her children," Steve growled, staring at the reflection of her scarred back in the mirror. "That's shameful."
Olivia took his face between her hands and made him look at her. "Sweetheart," she said, "don't you dare be angry for me. It was almost thirty years ago. Mama came home, she and Daddy made up, and none of us kids ever had to spend the night there again." She trembled as Steve ran a finger along the scar again. "Mama and I made our peace about it. I have forgiven her and Grandpa Henry. I don't have the energy to be angry or to hate them for it any more."
"But, Liv, what they did to you…"
"What they did to me was wrong," she interrupted. "I know that. I was ashamed of it for a long time, and I hated them for it even longer. But hating someone is like burning down your own house to get rid of a rat. You get rid of the people whom you hate by driving them away, but there's nothing left worth having."
"So you just let it go?"
She nodded. "I just let it go. My mama and my grandpa loved me. They couldn't help what they did. If they could, it never would have happened. I can't be angry at them for something that was beyond their control."
"He was a grown man," Steve protested fiercely. "He shouldn't have beaten up on a little kid, and your mother should have protected you."
She shook her head. "He was a kind and loving grandfather who sometimes turned into a mean old drunk. Mama was his little girl and she adored her daddy. They couldn't help themselves. I still loved them, so I had to forgive them."
His expression softened with understanding. "Otherwise there would have been nothing left worth having."
She nodded and smiled.
He threw his arms around her and pulled her close in a savage hug. "No one will ever hurt you again. I promise."