“I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly,” Mack said as I made him a margarita.
“It was our pleasure, Mack.”
“You’re both angels,” he said warmly. “Just like my Davena.”
“It’s the least I can do for both you and her,” I told him. I vividly remembered David’s and my conversation one evening as we sat at our new kitchen table, planning the wedding.
“Is there anything you want that you don’t have?” David asked. “Anything in the world, baby.”
I smiled at him for a moment and moved from my chair to his lap. My arms wound around his neck. “Nothing.”
“Think really hard. Anything at all.”
“Nope.” I shook my head and kissed him on the lips.
“Then I think we should have the guests donate to the shelter instead of bringing a gift.”
My eyes watered instantly as chills lit over my body. “I love that idea,” I whispered. “The shelter or Davena’s foundation.”
“Even better,” he said, touching the tip of his nose to mine. “And I’ll match the final donation to both.”
“Oh, honey, you don’t – ”
“Shh,” he said softly. “I want to. My gift to the bride.”
I blinked back tears and kissed him again, this time for his generous and loving spirit.
When I saw Gretchen leaning against the bar outside by herself, I made a beeline for her. She’d recently cut her hair shorter, and was wearing it straight. There was an obvious change in her lately; she looked happier and much less angular, having put a little weight back on.
“So, how was the trip really?” she asked. “Did you put a dent in Europe from all the fucking?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “It was amazing. You would love Spain.”
“I have no doubt.”
“In fact, I brought a special Spanish wine back just for you. Want to try it? It’s yummy.”
“No, thanks.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, gaping. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you turn down a drink.”
She gave me a thin smile that slowly spread across her face as she failed to suppress it. “By the way,” she said, “I hope you’re free next month. We’re moving up the wedding.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “Why?”
“Well, I don’t want to look like a porker in my dress,” she explained.
My eyebrows knit. I felt an arm around me and looked up as Brian squeezed my shoulder. They exchanged a look.
My gaze drifted back to her. “Gretchen?” I asked. “Are you . . . ?”
“Yes.” She nodded and walked into Brian’s open arms. “We’re having a baby. A happy accident.”
“An ecstatic accident,” Brian corrected.
I squealed and jumped up and down, drawing David immediately to my side. “What?” he asked with an edge of panic.
Brian put a hand on Gretchen’s tummy and looked at David. “Thirteen weeks pregnant.”
I fanned myself to hold in tears as David squeezed Gretchen in a gentle hug. I turned and announced the news at the top of my lungs, receiving cheers in response.
~
“Go to bed, I’ll finish this,” David said, throwing an empty beer bottle into an oversized black trash bag.
“You’re a good husband,” I called back to him. I let him clean because I had plans to reward him copiously. In the bedroom, I pulled black stockings up to my thighs and attached them to a matching garter belt. I slipped into the pair of stilettos I knew were David’s favorite and topped everything off with a short, black lace negligée. I snuck into our sprawling master bathroom to fix my hair and then perched on the bed to wait.
Our sex life had become a drug for both of us. Like our connection from the day we met eyes, it only intensified the more we gave into it. The more we pried each other open, the more we spilled into each other – and the results were mind-blowing. David had lovingly escorted me to the best gynecologist in town, who set me up with the strongest birth control on the market. Though we had discussed sterilization, we wanted to leave our options open just in case. The fact that he would be willing to get a vasectomy for me was a testament to the love and faith he had in us.
When I got bored of waiting, I slid open the door to our built-in balcony and let the cool night wash over me. I hopped onto the ledge to wait. David hated when I sat on it, but to lean over our own backyard and feel the breeze was exhilarating, even if it was only from the second story.
I heard him in the bedroom so I got into position by straightening my shoulders and spreading my legs. “Out here,” I called.
“Holy fucking shit,” he drawled when he walked outside. “You look good enough to eat, but if you don’t get down right this second, I’m going to be pissed.”
“How pissed will you be?” I asked, grasping the wood railing between my legs and leaning back slightly.
“Olivia, I’m not fucking around,” he said, approaching cautiously as though I might let go. He leaped then and grasped me in his arms. I giggled as he threw me over his shoulder and swatted my lace-covered behind. “You are in so much trouble.”
“Yes,” I whispered excitedly under my breath.
“What was that?”
“I said, ‘Please be gentle.’”
Suddenly I was vaulted backward onto the bed, where I landed in a pile of soft down. “I gather you aren’t aiming for gentle in that outfit,” he rumbled, standing between my legs and running his hands along my thighs. I licked my bottom lip, bit it gently and shook my head.
His lids lowered infinitesimally. “Turn over, ass in the air.”
I obeyed and pressed my cheek against the mattress. He spread me open and, pushing my panties aside, slipped one finger in. “Always so wet for me,” he muttered.
I agreed with a muffled purr. He bent and kissed me between the legs, running his tongue the length of me and inserting another finger.
“Do you want to come like this?”
“No,” I breathed.
“How then?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
He chuckled. “Of course.” He fingered me slightly harder, causing me to jerk. “Hold still.”
I fisted my hands into the sheets and took it, trying not to squirm as he tongued me. But I couldn’t.
Without removing his mouth, so I still felt his breath between my legs, he asked, “Will you hold still or do I have to tie you up?”
“I want to be bound,” I said. “But only by you.”
He climbed onto the bed, and I offered my hands behind me. He grasped both of my wrists easily in one big hand. He yanked my underwear down to my knees and pressed the head of his cock against my opening.
“Please,” I moaned.
His grip tightened around my wrists, while he continued sliding his crown through my wetness. My body shivered with anticipation. “I will, when you stop squirming.”
I took a deep breath and tried to relax.
After a moment, he bent over my back so his mouth was at my ear. “That’s a good girl,” he said and rammed himself in to the base. His hands moved to my biceps as he straightened up, pulling me onto him as he thrust once.
“Oh, David,” I rasped.
“Love when you say my name,” he grated and thrust another time against his stronghold.
“David,” I whimpered, and his pace quickened, giving it to me hard as he used my own body as leverage. “Oh, baby, you feel so good,” I cried out brokenly. “So fucking good.”
My shoulders ached and my cheek burned from the comforter, but he gave it to me faster, harder, without mercy, and I could only moan my satisfaction into the mattress.
I could tell he was close when his fingers squeezed my biceps. “You look sexy as fuck right now,” he said. “Come on, Olivia.”
“Come with me,” I pleaded.
I clenched around him, and he yelled out, jerking my arms back as he gave me a punishing final thrust and began to spurt into me. I quivered as I both came ap
art underneath him and drank him in at the same time.
“Christ,” he breathed. He pulled out, and I dropped my hips, flattening out on the bed. I stretched and shook my arms, and he climbed over my ass to straddle me. I groaned as he kneaded out my shoulders and massaged my arms.
“Orgasm and a massage?” I moaned. “Best husband ever.”
“Best what?”
“Best husband ever.”
He leaned over my back and growled into my ear. “Say it again.”
“Husband.”
He flipped me onto my back suddenly and looked me in the face. His hand smoothed over my hairline and before he could say it, I cut him off. “Love you,” I whispered.
He smiled. “Love you, too.” And then he pinned me with a passionate kiss. Within seconds he stiffened, long and hard against my thigh.
“Mmm. Again?” I asked hopefully into his mouth.
He nodded. “Again.”
~
I jerked awake when David’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. His arms around me disappeared as he reached for it, and I groaned at the loss. “Who’s calling at this time on a Sunday morning?”
He ignored me and answered it with a curt, “Dylan.” I closed my eyes and listened to his rumbling voice. “Right now?” he asked and paused. “Yes, yes. That’s good. I’ll be there.”
“Honey?” I asked.
“I have to run into the city for a little bit.”
“David,” I groaned again. “Not now. I’m cold.”
He laughed and wrapped me in his big, warm arms. “I hate to leave you cold, honeybee, but it’s important. I promise I won’t be long.” He pulled my earlobe between his teeth. “Nightmares?” he whispered.
I smiled and shook my head. I hadn’t had a nightmare in over a year, but that didn’t stop him from asking now and then.
“K. Go back to sleep.”
I sighed and though he pulled the comforter up high around me, I shivered in his absence.
I woke up again when I heard the Porsche out front. I hopped out of bed and pushed open the window, wondering why he’d parked at the curb.
The memory of the night before stirred in me as I watched him round the car and squint up at me. I smiled at my weekend David in his t-shirt, jeans and aviators. “Get down here, beautiful,” he yelled.
Snatching his t-shirt from the floor, I ran down the stairs two at a time as I pulled it over my head. I burst through the front door, meaning to run and jump into his arms but stopped short. I gasped and my hand flew over my mouth. A little back and tan furball bounded toward me through the grass.
Tears pierced my eyes as I caught the puppy and hoisted him into the air. His tail wagged excitedly and he licked my face, causing me to squeal with delight.
“Oh, David,” I said as he approached. “Is he . . . ? Can we . . . ?”
“Anything that makes you smile like that, baby, yeah, we can keep him.”
“A German Shepherd puppy!” I cried.
“Yes.”
“Like Canyon!” I cried again.
“Yes, like Canyon. I told George at the shelter months ago that if one ever came in, to call me immediately.”
I began jumping up and down, and David laughed heartily. “He’s perfect!” I kept crying. “Just perfect! Do you think we’re ready?”
“Yes. I’ve already arranged for him to stay with Jessa while we’re in Greece next month. Alex is thrilled.”
“I’m sure he is. What should we name him?”
David put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my head. “How about Prince Siegfried?”
I laughed. It was the name of the lead character from Swan Lake, the ballet where we’d first met eyes across the lobby of the theater.
“Well, hi, darling Prince,” I cooed, cuddling the puppy close. “Welcome to the Dylan family.”
To learn more about the author, visit:
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Twitter: @jess_hawk
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SERIES ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A special thank you to my biggest supporter, best friend and unofficial beta-reader, Jenna Meister. Often we are continents apart, occasionally we are sitting next to each other working quietly at Starbucks. Regardless, you are an endless source of strength, support and reason.
This series has been made possible with the help of many friends, family and fans. Support comes in many forms, and I am especially indebted to the following people who generously contributed to my Kickstarter campaign: Jenna Meister, James and Jan Hawkins, James Stafford Hawkins, Jr., Uncle Pete, Frances Tully, Jimmy Pollard, Jen Last, Lawrence W. Fry, Natalie Marie Haddad, Dallas Ann H. Erwood, Sharon A. O’Donnell and Dottie Broderick.
To those who have read the series: thank you. It has been an honor to be on your physical or digital bookshelf. Fans, friends and blogs who’ve reviewed the series: I know who you are and I’ve read your reviews; you’ve given a new author something priceless. Street team: you have a special place in my heart! Thank you for all that you do.
Last but not least, I want to acknowledge a few people who have followed the series from beginning to end, dutifully cheering me on from the first sentence. Onnica Rheade from ILoveRomanticFiction.com: you may not know this, but you were the first person I know of that read Come Undone. It’s true. I’ll never forget how it felt to read your review. Natalie Marie Haddad: the first person to encourage me at everything I do, ever. Julie Celene Blackwell: the first of my friends and family to take the time to honestly review and then share the book. Traci Thompson: my first diehard cheerleader, who never hesitates to share the books with everyone she knows.
It’s likely none of you will ever know what your support means to me. I love you. That’s all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jessica Hawkins grew up between the purple mountains and under the endless sun of Palm Springs, California. She studied international business at Arizona State University and has also lived in Costa Rica and New York City. Some of her favorite things include traveling, her dog Kimo, Scrabble, driving aimlessly and creating Top Five lists. She is the helpless victim of an overactive imagination that finds inspiration in music and tranquility in writing. Currently she resides wherever her head lands, which lately is the unexpected (but warm) keyboard of her trusty MacBook.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
EPILOGUE
SERIES ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Come Together Page 34
