Odette and Arlo, Part three
What to do when your heart doesn't listen?
Odette woke up with the taste of him on her lips, their scent all around her, but her arms were empty. She opened her eyes, no Ollie. The pillow didn’t look like it had held a head, and she couldn’t recall how she got under the covers. A small memory popped into her head of him tucking her in and lying down next to her, but not under the covers with her.
“Ollie?” She called.
“Out here, love,” he called out from the other room.
Her immediate reaction of fear that he was gone threw her for a loop just for a moment, but hearing his voice immediately soothed her. She grabbed her phone and sent Arlo and voice message saying good morning and that she loved him and had a fun night and couldn’t wait to see him and tell him all about it. She smiled as she hung up, hoping he was having a good time on his trip, and then called out to Ollie.
“Come in here!”
He popped his head in and smiled at her sleepy face. “Hey there, darlin’, I ordered room service, basically everything they had, because I didn’t know what you wanted.”
“That sounds perfect.” She stretched back on the bed, relishing in the good sore feeling in her pussy and her nipples, and other places around her body. She could feel the slight bruise on her lip where their teeth had mashed their lips together at some point. She slipped on the robe laid out at the end of the bed and met him on the couch, the food spread out on the coffee table.
“Oh my gosh, so much food!”
He swept her into a big hug. “You’re the most delicious-looking thing in here.” He gave her a solid kiss and told her to eat up. She grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon while he poured her some orange juice.
“Coffee?” He poured her a cup and sat back with his own, watching her eat.
“I am loving this,” he stated, smiling at her eating her food with gusto. There was something about her self-effacing nature; she was as she always purported herself to be. Meeting her was like a breath of fresh air, no affectation to her at all.
“What?” she said with a mouthful of French toast.
“You.”
She blew him a kiss and continued eating. He watched her while sipping his coffee, enamored by how she relished each bite. He fought the urge to crush her mouth, full of coffeecake, with his own. He reached for her face; she leaned in and he wiped an errant crumb from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, licking it off. She grinned back at him, child-like in joy, completely captivating him. He tried not to think about tomorrow, meeting Arlo. He was more nervous than he wanted to let on, especially to Det. He knew how deep her connection to Arlo was, and he didn’t want her to think that he was trying to come between that, but he felt this twinge of jealousy that he wasn’t used to. He’d never felt this before, and he was having difficulties putting it in his place. Envy, desiring to be included, was familiar and what he usually felt. This feeling of wanting to possess her was new, and he didn’t particularly like it. He was glad she was enjoying her breakfast so much that she wouldn’t notice how distant he was, his brain going a mile a minute, masking his inner turmoil. He had to; there was no way that he would ever do anything to make that smile leave her face
He had been up all night staring at her, trying to figure out a way to say how he felt without making things awkward. Looking down at her sleeping, lying next to him, he choked back tears, knowing he could never have what he wanted; he wanted her with him all the time. The feelings washed over him like a rogue wave, knocking him down, making him feel like a teenager in love. He realized this was one of those times he would not get what his heart desired, and he would have to live with that. If he wanted her in his life at all, he would have to swallow it; he just wasn’t sure he could.
“Are you ok?” she asked, noting the furrow in his brow and the untouched waffle on his plate.
“Actually, no, I’m not ok.”
“No?”
She looked worried for a moment until she saw the glint in his eye as he pushed his plate away and jumped on her with a playful growl, kissing her neck and sliding a hand up her leg, over her impossibly smooth skin to cup her ass cheek. He leaned down, pressing his weight onto her, not all, just enough to pin her beneath him. He curled his free arm around her head, like a halo, protecting his…no, he had to stop that train of thought before it left the station. She wasn’t his anything. But, right here and now, she was his, and he fully intended to enjoy this time with her. Running his thumb under her jaw, he tipped her mouth open and ran his tongue along the inside of her lips, capturing her bottom lip and sucking on it slowly. She exhaled and arched her back, pressing her body into his and spreading her legs for him.
“Did you want something else for breakfast?”
The grin on her face made him laugh out loud, and he covered her with kisses, making that sound continue, that beautiful, raucous laugh. Kneeling between her legs, he breathed in her scent, the sweet, musky aroma of both of them from the night before filling his nostrils. He dove in with a groan, luxuriating in the feel of her most intimate skin, her clit, pulsing with her eagerness as he sucked it between his teeth, capturing it there and batting it with his tongue.
“Oh, god, Ollie, please don’t stop, don’t…don’t…ever stop,” she begged him, clawing at his head.
He whimpered into her pussy, thrusting his tongue inside her as deep as he could get it over and over, grasping both ass cheeks in his hands as he ate her out like the most delicious watermelon, her juices running down his chin as her devoured her, twisting and trembling, until she could take it no longer. Clawing at him, pulling him up to her, desperate to feel him fill her. He leaned forward, their foreheads touching, and held himself there at her entrance, like a delicate kiss, held there, trembling.
“Babyyy,” he breathed, wanting to say the words he shouldn’t, wanting to tell her how much he cared about her, how much he craved her, but he bit back the words with a growl and plunged into her. His mouth crushed hers as he worked his hips in deep figure eights, meeting her undulations. They moved like that, in perfect synch, unaware of time or space, riding the wave of ecstasy that flowed in and around them, through them. Breaking their kiss with a cry, she rocked her hips harder against his, her strong legs wrapped around his waist. Watching the orgasm flush over her ripped through him like a bullet, pulling the string that connected his heart to his lungs, sending a pulse through him, his body a fine-tuned instrument, set to her pitch.
She clutched at him, wrapping her whole self around him, trying to enfold him into her as his hips bucked with his orgasm, his breath hitching in her ear, she heard him breathe, “I love you, Odette.” The words split her as sure as an axe, a sob from nowhere bubbling up, she bit down on his shoulder to prevent its escape, and another orgasm wrenched through her body, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, flowing unchecked down her neck. Neither moved as their climax subsided; her legs enveloped him, his body covering hers, neither wanting to let go. Her chest hitched as another sob threatened, and he propped up on his elbow to look at her. She turned her head to the side, the tears falling sideways, and she surreptitiously wiped them away before looking in his eyes.
“Ollie, I…” she began, but he shushed her.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything.” he brushed her lips with his own and cupped her cheek in his hand. “I love you, Odette, I do, I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to put that on you, but there it is.”
She lowered her eyes, the emotion in his face far too much to bear. She could see every desire written there and wanted to fulfill them, to prostrate herself at his feet, immersed in him and his world.
“If I had but more than one life to give in this world…” she started, but again, he shushed her.
“Please, don’t, I can’t bear it.” he collapsed on her, his chest heaving. She held him there like that, as he tried to breathe through the pain in his chest, holding onto the woman he loved desperately, whom he could never truly have as he desired. They lay like that as he slipped out of her, the tears from her eyes drying in salty riverbeds to her ears; neither wanting to break the embrace. After what seemed like forever, he spoke.
“I’m not looking to upend your life, or take you from Arlo, or make you mine,” his voice hitched over the last word as if just the thought was enough to fracture, “I just feel this way for you. You make me feel like no one else has in a long time. And I just…I love you.”
She took his face in her hands this time, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb before pressing her mouth to his firmly, trying to convey how she felt through the kiss. Wanting to tell him she loved him, too, just in a different way. She knew she could love more than one person; her life was full of people she loved. What she feared was that what she offered just wasn’t enough. As if reading her mind, he said,
“I want nothing, Det, I promise, just you, here, now.”
With that very first lie to her, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, cutting off any chance to argue or ask questions. He kissed her with all the love he had, all the pain and rage of longing that would never be fulfilled. They kissed until once again, he was hard, and he was inside her. This time, wordlessly held her gaze; she didn’t shy away, wanting him to see how she felt, even if she couldn’t say it. In an instant, he pulled out and flipped her onto her side, spooning her, holding her tightly around her stomach. She intertwined her fingers with his, putting his hand on her breast and holding it there, the warmth of his palm a comfort. His mouth next to her ear, the little hairs on her neck standing up from his hot breath, she writhed in his embrace.
“God, Odette, what you do to me.” His words came out in a ragged rush as he came inside her, his arm around her waist pinning her there to him like a butterfly in a 6th grade etymology project. She held his arm around her, kissing his palm and pressing it to her breast as their breathing slowed.
They didn’t move, just held each other like that, not wanting to dispel the moment. When they finally did, breakfast was cold, and the words hit a wall in their mouths. They slowly got dressed, Odette gathered her things, and waited for Ollie to walk her down to her car. They made small talk on the elevator ride, trying so hard to be casual in the face of everything that had gone down.
“So, I’ll see you later?” she asked, hoping he still wanted to get together with Arlo.
“I’ll text you and let you know what time,” he said and kissed her cheek.
She could tell he was off and wanted to call him on it right then, but chickened out. Instead, she texted him when she got home.
“Are we ok?”
“Yes, we’re fine. Promise.”
She didn’t text until a few hours later to ask what time he thought she should pick him up for dinner. He didn’t respond for an hour.
“I didn’t want to text until I was positive. I have to go back. Work needs me. I’m sorry.”
She stared at the text, unsure how to respond. The message felt clipped, and it stung.
“Oh. I’m sorry, too. I’m sad you won’t be joining us tonight. I know how much Arlo was looking forward to meeting you.”
The three dots hung on the screen from his side for a long time, a held breath, finally a response, much too short for the amount of time gone by,
“Please tell him I’m sorry, it can’t be helped.”
Nothing about rescheduling, and after waiting ten minutes to see if he was going to add anything else, she said,
“I hope you have a safe flight back. Text me when you get in?”
“Thanks, I will.”
Then nothing. She wasn’t sure if “Thanks, I will” meant he would have a good flight or that he would text her. She waited an hour before responding.
“Did I do something?”
Again, those three dots blinked for too long for such a short reply.
“No, you didn’t do anything.”
“Then why? And please don’t say why, what? because you know what. The temperature has dropped significantly between us, and let’s not pretend we don’t know why.”
She remembered that the two of them didn’t have the ease of communication that she and Arlo shared; 25 years of life together gave them an almost lizard-brained insight into the other’s thoughts and feelings. But, the one thing she told him was imperative to her in a relationship, friendship, or otherwise, was clear and direct communication. No pussyfooting around feelings or issues of concern. This was both.
“Odette, do you want to beat this to death? I told you I loved you. You don’t feel the same. I'm having a hard time with it.”
She couldn’t help but push, not sure why she felt she needed to, but she felt desperate to fix the crack that threatened to shatter everything.
“I don’t want to beat it to death, I just want you to understand my position. I want you to…”
“No, I want You, Odette. That’s the problem. It’s my problem, not yours.”
“Your problems are mine, Ollie.”
“NO! No, Det, that’s the issue, they aren’t. They’re mine and mine alone and no matter how much I want to share them with you, you belong to another.”
“I belong to myself and the issues that matter and the people I care about don’t change because I’m married.”
“But it changes everything for ME! Don’t you see that? I want to wake up next to you every day. I want to be the one to hold you when you’re upset. I want to be the one who gives you all of me, and I can’t.”
“Ollie.” She said, more of a statement, not knowing what else to say because there was nothing to say.
“Odette, I think the best thing for now would be if we didn’t talk for a bit.”
“What?”
“I think it would be best, I told you I’m not looking to make your life harder, to shake it up in any way.”
“Oliver, you can’t mean that.”
He could hear her voice cracking, knowing that he was going to do the thing he said he wouldn’t, he knew he was going to make her cry, and couldn’t stop it.
“I do, Odette. Goodbye.”
With that, he hung up, and she burst into tears.