The box from Livvie was large and I ripped into it. I laughed hard when I saw the contents. Claudia was out of her seat and hovering over my shoulder. Rubio stayed in his seat but was trying to peer into the box. There was a piece of paper that read: Sexy’s Kung-fu Boo-Boo Kit. Inside were rolls of bandages, band-aids, butterfly stiches, a bottle of peroxide, bath salts, a hand-made massage coupon entitling me to a “full body rub down (with happy ending)”, and hand wraps “specifically designed for boxers.”
I still had a smile on that could crack my face when the singing started. I looked up from my box and Livvie was walking toward me. The restaurant staff was carrying an entire tray of cupcakes with candles in them. They sang:
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday dear, James.
Happy birthday to you.
I stood up and reached for Livvie. She kissed me and whispered in my ear.
“One cupcake for every birthday, my love, and one more for good luck.”
I couldn’t stop staring at her as she pulled away. I love you, I wanted to say, but my throat felt closed and I was afraid of what would come out. There were tears in her eyes, and if I’d been a weaker man, there would have been tears in mine.
“What are you waiting for, the building to burn down?” Claudia chided. “Blow them out!”
I smiled, though I felt on the verge of falling apart. I kissed Livvie on her forehead and let my lips linger long enough for her to feel the depth of my appreciation. Then, for the first time I could remember, I blew out my birthday candles.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Tell me how you feel.” I ran the leather tongue of the riding crop along Livvie’s outstretched arm. I watched as she shivered. The tiny hairs on her arm stood on end.
Livvie opened her mouth to speak, stopped, swallowed, and then replied.
“Excited,” she said. She shivered again and the leather straps that held her in place on the cross creaked. There wouldn’t be any kicking or flailing to interrupt me this time.
“Was that your first thought? I don’t think it was.” I continued down her arm and over her shoulder. I knew she liked it when I kissed her down her spine. I let the crop caress her where my lips typically would.
We hadn’t done this before, not as lovers. I had my doubts about doing it at all, but she insisted. Her book was nearly finished. She’d been working on it more aggressively in the weeks leading up to her request. Between Livvie’s writing, work, and school schedule, I’d hardly spent any time with her since my birthday. She needed this, she said. She needed to remember how it felt. She needed to recreate it.
I didn’t want her to remember. I didn’t want to remember. Yet, there I was, crop in hand. It was a pull too compelling to resist. I wouldn’t use the belt. I wouldn’t leave the marks I’d left the first time. If Livvie could re-imagine the events of our past, I could too. I could give her pain and pleasure. I could finally let the fading ghost of our past die and rest in peace. It was time for us to go on living.
I tapped her gently on her flank. She jumped.
“I asked you a question. Was excited your first response?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m… I’m afraid.”
Yes, she was afraid. I’d learned her fear very well. In fact, I consider myself a connoisseur of fear. I know there are as many varieties of fear as there are colors in a rainbow. Livvie was afraid, but it was a brand of fear I very much enjoyed.
“Fear is part of it.” I slapped at her inner thighs gently. I liked the sound it made. “You’re defenseless. You’re vulnerable. You’re completely at my mercy.” I stood behind her, unmoving, and I smelled her fear. True to her word, there was excitement as well. I leaned in and kissed the shell of her ear. “You. Are. Mine. Say it for me.”
She sagged in her bonds. Her head fell on my shoulder and she nuzzled against me.
“I’m yours, Caleb.” I was always Caleb while she was vulnerable. My name on her tongue reminded me of slipping into a worn pair of shoes. I’d been called Caleb most of my life, and were it not for Livvie, the name would be lost to me. Caleb had done horrible things—he’d been a monster—but he’d also allowed James to survive. Caleb deserved to live. I could be both men. I am both men.
I stepped back and took in the sight in front of me piece by piece. Her long mane of ebony hair cascaded down her slender back. I couldn’t wait to hold it as I fucked her. I’d put her in red satin. Every miniscule movement caused the red fabric to shift and offer a different tantalizing bit of skin. The panties were scant. The meaty flesh of her backside appeared plumper by way of the cut. With her legs spread open on the X-shaped cross, I could catch glimpses of her * when she tried to adjust. Thick black straps made of leather held her in place at wrists and ankles.