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We say our goodbyes to Alex and Sean, who both insist us two ‘lovebirds’ get out of here. I feel a pang of guilt being the maid of honor that leaves before the bride and groom. But I need Oliver now, more than anything or anyone else.

He leads me toward the elevators. “By the way, you make that dress look beautiful.”

I giggle and shake my head.

“Even with the frosting smeared down the front.” He glances back over his shoulder with a smirk.

“What?” I stop and look down. “Dammit!” I rub the chocolate frosting with my thumb, but it only makes it worse.

Oliver chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. You won’t be wearing it much longer.”

My insides begin to heat as we maneuver our way through the sea of tables and people. I take the opportunity to drink in my sexy man in his suit, but my eyes stop, glued to his … leather work boots.

“Oliver?”

“Yes?” he calls back.

“What’s up with the boots?”

“Patience … you’ll see.”

* * *

“I haven’t worked out in a while. Do you think I’m looking flabby?” Oliver asks.

Looking over my shoulder, I bite my lower lip and shake my head.

“Is my tie straight?”

I nod with an enormous grin, my body screaming for the teasing to stop.

“What about my ass? Do these boots make my ass look big?” Oliver turns and flexes his firm glutes at me.

I begin to drool. “Oliver!”

“Yes, my love?”

“Now!”

He grins while crawling onto the bed. “So what made you think of this?” Lifting my hips, he slides his erection between my legs, teasing my clit.

I’m on my knees, bent forward with my wrists handcuffed to the headboard—the handcuffs were in my bridesmaid’s goodie bag, compliments of Alex.

“Um, nothing really. Ahhh!”

Oliver slams into me and pulls my hair back. Who is this guy?

As he works into a steady pace, he releases my hair and grabs my hips with the occasional reach-around to stimulate my clitoris.

The cuffs, although fur covered, bite into my skin. It’s pain and pleasure. It’s sexy and erotic. It’s demanding and playful … It’s me and Oliver—unpredictable, indestructible, and inseparable.

Skin to skin, heart to heart, in his arms is my home. Everything else I do in my life will just be what I accomplish in a day to get back to Oliver.

“Oli?’

“Hmm?” His chest hums against my ear as our tired bodies search for sleep.

“Why did you keep the pillow?”

Loving fingers trace my back. “I wanted her last breath.”

Epilogue

Oliver

5 Years Later

What happens when a business geek from Harvard meets an engineering geek from MIT at Dunkin’ Donuts? Bloom Pods.

Before either Vivian or her MIT friend, Anne Gade, received their degrees, they both became millionaires. Bloom Pods are sleep pods revolutionized. They have therapeutic lighting, essential oil diffusers to stimulate the pineal gland, music, white noise or nature sounds, chair massage options, and a cover that’s a virtual screen with every imaginable scenery choice. It’s so realistic that even people with claustrophobia can use them with ease. Fifteen minutes in a Bloom Pod feels like hours of physical rejuvenation. They’ve infiltrated all major cities, now common in corporate buildings, fitness centers, and mental hospitals.

Since graduating a year ago, Vivian has expanded her wellness corporation, Idle Bloom, beyond Bloom Pods. Now that marijuana is legal in all fifty states, she has hired a group of doctors and scientists to head up The Green Pot Project. They’re conducting long-term research studies on all the health benefits of marijuana, including cannabinoids effect on reducing inflammation and preventing scar tissue after severe burns.

As for me … I’ve managed to sleep my way to the top. The CEO of Idle Bloom has a thing for tall guys in ties and work boots, so now I head their legal department. My office is next to the boss lady’s with an adjoining door. We schedule time for a private meeting every day and sometimes our pressing needs require two meetings to remedy the situation.

We live an unconventional love story. She won’t marry me because she wants me to know that she’s with me by choice, every day, no matter what. I won’t stop proposing because I want her to know that if marriage is the ultimate symbol of commitment and love, I’ll never stop wanting her—all of her—forever. We’re the only two that understand how devastating it would be if I stopped proposing or if she ever said yes. Every day we share mad love, crazy emotion, and unforgettable passion. We are the best thing that ever happened to us.

* * *

Vivian

So I’m not the next Amazon, and Dunkin’ Donuts still has my undying loyalty, but I have a great job and employees who love working with me—as promised, four day work weeks and weekends off. I do it all for the challenge and satisfaction of knowing I’m making a difference. The money doesn’t matter, in spite of the eye roll I get from my accountant every time I request pay raises for my employees. The money and things have not changed me. I’m still the simple girl who fell hard for a guy that changed everything.

I won’t marry him … Okay, I would, but why? We don’t plan on having children, as taboo as it sounds. Although after my commitment to lifelong virginity, I’m a bit more reserved about saying never. Somehow with Oliver in my life anything feels possible. For now, we spoil Chance and Ronnie’s two boys and Alex and Sean’s six-month-old daughter.

I like introducing Oliver as my boyfriend, just like I like showing off my tattoo, and driving my car so fast Oliver’s bladder considers reverting back to his younger years. Maybe I’m a rebel or maybe I’m just not a conformist. Either way, it doesn’t matter. No two people could love each other with any more fierce intensity than what Oliver and I share every day.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” I smile, looking over at Oliver with his shirt off.

“Me? What about you?”

“I’m a pro, but you’re a virgin.”

“Stick, pinch, burn …” He grins.

I smirk. “I should never have told you that.”

He’s done before me.

“Let me see.”

He lifts his arm so I can see the black tattooed script along the side of his torso.

No Take Backs

“What do you think?”

“Perfect.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. I’ll see it every time I cuddle under your arm.”

When I’m finished, Oli looks at my lower back. It’s official. I have one bloomed cherry blossom tattoo. Next to the round O-bloom are the letters l and i, Oli. He sighs. “Marry me?”

“Nope.”

We both laugh while the tattoo artist looks on with an amused grin.

I used to think time stood still when we were together. He was afraid to look back and I was afraid to look forward. Now I realize during all those perfect moments that seemed to stand still, we were healing and growing, loving and learning in the light of each other’s hearts … We were two souls in Idle Bloom.

The End

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