Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “David,” I scolded. “We’re only supposed to be getting a few things for work.”

  “Oh, right . . .” He gave the woman a conspiratorial look. “Bring the wardrobe, though.”

  She smiled at him brightly, no doubt thrilled to be in the presence of such an extremely handsome man who’d basically just handed over his credit card.

  “Size zero?” she asked me.

  “Probably—”

  “We’re aiming for higher,” he said, rubbing my back. “But we can come back when that happens.”

  I agreed that I’d lost too much weight recently and needed to put some back on—but then buying new clothes seemed a bit pointless. “Maybe we should wait to shop until—”

  “Here, put these in a fitting room,” David interrupted, handing the salesgirl what I’d already chosen, “and pull whatever else you think she’ll like.”

  “Yes, sir,” the woman said. “Champagne while you shop?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  I smiled. “Now we really are Edward and Vivian, but that puts me on the verge of prostitute territory.”

  “We haven’t even slept together yet,” he pointed out. “As a couple, anyway.”

  “So you’re not doing this to get in my pants?”

  “Hmm.” His arms found their way around my waist. He ran his hands down my back and over the seat of my jeans before pulling my hips against him. He kissed me chastely on the cheek and then a little less so along my jaw. “That would certainly be a perk,” he whispered in my ear. “I want to take you in my bed tonight like the first time.”

  “Why wait?” I asked, aroused just by his breath on my skin.

  The salesgirl’s voice cut into our moment. “You’re all set up, if you want to follow me,” she said, directing me into a full dressing room and David to a chair just outside of it.

  Locked in the small but immaculate room, I stripped down quickly.

  “Come out,” David instructed.

  “Okay, but I’m not dressed yet.”

  “Olivia, there are other men in this store,” he admonished. “Come out when you’re ready.”

  “Do you really want to see? It’s boring work stuff.” It wasn’t at all—the pieces she’d picked were so beautiful, they could pass as art. Fine wool, silk, lace, chiffon—to me it was heaven, but to a guy, I knew—it was boring work stuff.

  “I want to see everything,” he called.

  “If you say so.” I dressed myself in a red, long-sleeved silk blouse with delicate gold buttons and two hanging fabric strips that I tied into a bow. A fitted, navy wool skirt stopped just above the tops of my knees.

  When I exited, David leaned forward in his chair and set his elbows on his knees. His eyes scanned me head to toe. “Damn.” He blew out a breath. “That looks sexy as fuck.”

  I laughed. “I’m all covered up. You act as if it’s lingerie.”

  “Come here,” he said. I sat in his lap, and he leaned me back against one arm. He skidded his other hand down the fabric of the skirt, stopping at the hem. “You just reminded me. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for months.”

  “What’s that, handsome?” I asked, shifting suggestively against his crotch.

  He groaned softly. “Remember the night you were attacked, I brought you to my apartment and you stayed in my guest room. I said you looked exquisite in my t-shirt and sweatpants, and you laughed because you didn’t believe me. I promised that one day I’d tell you exactly how exquisite you looked.”

  I bit my lip and nodded, remembering the moment perfectly. I’d wanted nothing more than for him to leap across the bed and devour me whole.

  “Up until then, I’d never seen anything sexier,” he said, running his nose along mine. He slid his palm down to my knee and partway up the skirt. “You, bare-faced in my clothing, nothing underneath. I should get a medal for my restraint. I wanted to fuck you so bad, I would’ve moved Heaven and Earth right then to make it happen.”

  My breathing sped as I became instantly aware of the ache between my legs. David’s noticeable excitement underneath my thigh wasn’t helping.

  “That’s all. Go on,” he said, urging me up. “Try something else.”

  I stood slowly, letting the blood recirculate through my body. Back behind the door, I stripped down to my undergarments and then, when an idea occurred to me, stripped all the way down. I took out my new phone, located the only number I had stored, tousled my hair a bit, pinched my cheeks, and snapped a photo in the mirror.

  I hit Send and turned my attention back to what I’d try next. It wasn’t long before David’s phone pinged, and he rustled in his seat. The dressing room door opened a sliver and he slipped in, raking his eyes over my naked body. He held a finger over his mouth and took two large strides toward me.

  “Hands behind your back,” he said quietly, and I complied. He took my chin in his hand. My heart raced, and arousal pulled deep inside me as his stare burned. “Open,” he whispered, squeezing my jaw. I did, and he stuck his index finger in my mouth. “Suck.”

  I ran my tongue over him, looking up from under my lashes. I sucked tentatively at first and then harder. He moaned loudly, so I reached out to touch his erection through his pants.

  “No.” He placed my hand back behind me, removed his finger from my mouth, and reached between my legs. With agonizing slowness, he slid the wet finger inside me. I rolled my lips together and breathed heavily through my nose. One finger turned into two. He explored me gently from the inside, massaging me with an expert touch. His other hand found my breast, rolling and pinching my nipple so that I moaned into the sting. When his palm pressed against my clit, I writhed into it.

  He slipped a hand under my hair and held my neck. “Don’t squirm,” he warned softly.

  His gaze grew darker, more penetrating as he finger-fucked me faster. His complete, undivided attention was unnerving, and I wanted to look away, but he held me in place. The overly bright fluorescent lights flooded the room, sharpening my vision as things began to feel surreal. My mouth fell open, and I gasped for air as my orgasm threatened.

  “Fuck me,” I implored, wringing my hands behind my back.

  He shook his head as he pushed his fingers deeper. My head jerked back, but he continued to hold me upright, seeking out my eyes with his.

  “Come,” he mouthed at me.

  “How are the sizes working out?” I heard from somewhere far away.

  David’s eyes bored into me with his palm still firmly against me. “Answer her,” he demanded in a whisper.

  I reached out to grab his arms as the orgasm crested. “Fine,” I called.

  She said something else, but my ears rang as waves of pleasure hit me. The world spun around me, and I could only cling to David to keep me centered. “Fine,” I repeated, squeezing David’s biceps and thrashing against his hand.

  As I came down, I wilted against him, and he held my weight, trailing quick kisses along my jawline until he reached my neck. He removed his fingers from me and wiped them on his jeans, laughing silently.

  “What?” I mouthed as I tried to control my breathing, still gripping one of his arms for fear that my legs would give out.

  “She asked if she could get you a different size in anything. You said ‘Fine.’”

  “Oh,” I breathed, managing a small laugh. “Oops.”

  He smiled widely and shook his head before swiping my panties from the floor. “Here.”

  I glanced down at his tented pants and then back up. “What about you?”

  “I can wait,” he said. “I don’t want our first time as a couple to be in a dressing room.”

  I nodded, even though I wouldn’t have minded at all. I took my undergarments from his outstretched hand. As soon as I’d clasped my bra, he was crouched at my feet holding open a dress. I placed my hands on his shoulders and stepped into it. He drew it up my body and zipped me into it from behind.

  It was simple and black, conservative enough for work b
ut still trim over my slight curves.

  “You have a dress like this, don’t you? With the thingie?” he asked, motioning to the shoulder.

  I smiled, amused that he was at all familiar with my wardrobe, although I couldn’t remember wearing that particular dress around him. “I have one with a rosette, yes. Different designer but similar.”

  “It suits you.”

  Something about the dress tugged at my memory, but I quickly forgot when he perched his chin on the top of my head and looked at us in the mirror. “If you look like this every morning on the way out the door, then I’m fucked. We’ll never make it to work.”

  I turned in his arms and smiled up at him, running my hands over his t-shirt and under his hoodie. It was our first moment truly alone to appreciate each other since everything had happened. Things were beginning to feel right. David dipped his head for a leisurely kiss. It was nice not to feel guilty or as if I’d been simmering with need for months.

  “We’re going shoe shopping next,” he said. “If I have to bend this far down every time I kiss you, I’ll throw my back out before I hit forty.”

  I laughed and rose onto the balls of my feet for a last peck. “Get out of here so I can change.”

  David had given the staff his credit card long before we ended up at the register, so I never even saw the transaction. Suddenly the salesgirl was handing me several large bags, which David chivalrously intercepted, and we left the store.

  After he’d put them in the trunk, we stood on the sidewalk. “Listen, I have some work to do back at the apartment,” he said. “Give me your wallet.”

  I cocked my head but dug it out of my purse and handed it to him. He stuck it in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed me a credit card. “Go find a dress for tonight, anything you want, anywhere you want.” I started to object, but he stopped me. “Surprise me. If it feels too weird to spend my money on yourself, then do it for me. Pick out something you think I’d like.”

  I took the card and opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said. “It makes me feel like I’m doing you a favor. I’m not. Like I said, we’ll talk money, logistics, all that shit later. Just take this for now. Oh, and this . . .” He burrowed his hand into his hoodie pocket and produced a bundle of items. “Keycards and keys to the Gryphon—come in the back entrance. You remember which apartment it is, right?”

  “Penthouse,” I said with a defeated shrug.

  “I know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but we’re in it now. Might as well get comfortable.”

  “Where’d you get all this?” I asked, palming my foreseeable future.

  “I’ve had it for a while. I told you,” he said, touching me under the chin, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  5

  As I walked to David’s apartment, evening gown in hand, the last forty-eight hours played through my mind like a movie. Things had never felt as simultaneously terrifying and clear as they did now. I wondered how Bill was and decided to call Gretchen with my new phone number when I got back.

  David lived in a hotel—one of a few residences comprising the top floors of the Gryphon Hotel. That fact was abundantly clear as I skipped the back entrance as he’d suggested and crossed the lobby instead. Not to be outdone, David was at the top—the penthouse—just under the rooftop venue that’d hosted Chicago Metropolitan Magazine’s Meet and Greet. It was intimidating to say the least, but it also thrilled me. It meant views of my beloved Chicago from almost every angle.

  I swiped the card in the elevator as I’d seen David do. When I reached his floor, I stepped into the foyer and looked around. Various emotions rushed through me as I remembered fleeing his apartment months ago. Desperate to escape, I’d run out in just the sheet from his bed and changed here in the foyer as I’d waited for the elevator. I blushed when I noticed a camera in one corner, wondering if it belonged to David or the hotel. Neither possibility lessened my embarrassment.

  I walked to the front door and halted there, unsure of how to proceed. I dug out the single key and flipped it over and over in my fingers, thinking, immobilized. My phone pinged.

  David: Coming in?

  I smiled at David’s text and unlocked the door. Apparently, the cameras belonged to him. As I entered, another message came through.

  David: Last door on the right before my bedroom.

  I took in the semi-familiar space and automatically walked the path to the bedroom I’d once run from. When I reached an open door just before it, I stopped and peeked into an office I’d never seen. In a leather swivel chair, David nodded into the desk phone at his ear. Behind him spread a jaw-dropping view of Chicago’s skyline. He motioned at me to come in, so I draped the garment bag that held my new dress on an empty chair and walked toward his waving hands.

  “Sketches are almost finished, but I still need to meet with Greer about preliminary estimates,” he said into the receiver as I settled on his lap. He kissed me quickly on the cheek as he listened.

  Judging by the two oversized computer screens, piles of paperwork, and a drafting table, I sat in his home office. A display of flat screen security televisions made up one corner, and I blushed when I noticed that one of them watched the foyer. Thankfully, nothing beyond the entryway was included. He winked when he noticed my gaze. I didn’t see much to indicate a personal presence—no pictures, no framed awards or articles, nothing distinctly special about the office’s inhabitant.

  “Let’s set that up then.” He paused, covering the mouthpiece to ask me, “When should we go see your father? Can you get Friday off so we can make a weekend of it?”

  I bit my lip. My boss frowned upon taking time off, but I had plenty of vacation days because of it. I gave him a half-shrug. “I’ll try.”

  He removed his hand and placed it on my lower back. “Monday,” he said into the phone. “I probably won’t be in on Friday. No, it won’t be resolved by then. Make it Monday.” After a moment he hung up and ran his hand up and down my back. “How was shopping? Is that your dress?”

  “It was great,” I said and pecked his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He sighed. “I’ve had a serious boner since the boutique.”

  “Well, there are ways of fixing that,” I teased.

  “I’m well aware, Miss Germaine, but not until tonight. I want to take my time with you. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “And those who don’t?” I asked, brushing my lips against the corner of his mouth. He turned his head and caught my mouth for a heated kiss, pulling me closer so his erection pushed into my hip.

  “You taste so good,” he murmured when he released me. “Tell me you’re moving in, and I get to do this whenever I please.”

  “David,” I protested, placing a hand on his chest. “It’s too soon—”

  “We have a house together, for God’s sake,” he said.

  Oh, yes, the Oak Park house. I’d purposely been avoiding the topic. David had bought my dream home on a whim because he couldn’t stand the thought of someone else buying it for me. Not two days into our relationship and there was a house involved.

  “You have a house,” I corrected.

  “We do, Olivia.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Great as it is, that house means nothing to me without you in it.”

  That, I already knew, since he’d practically given it to me days earlier when he’d almost walked out of my life. “That’s way in the future anyway,” I said. “I still have a whole divorce to get through.”

  “Again, we,” he corrected. “I’m going through it with you, no matter how hard you try to do it alone.”

  “Right, okay,” I said slowly, “but it’s ridiculous for me to go from being married to someone else right to moving in with you.”

  “What’s ridiculous is you paying rent on some shithole when you’ll be here with me every night anyway.”

  Butterflies filled my tummy at the enticing thought of falling asleep and wak
ing up next to this god on a regular basis. “Every night?” I repeated.

  “If you think I’m willing to spend even one night away from you, after every night we’ve already spent apart, after everything I did to get you . . .” He shook his head. “Then you have no clue what’s been going on in my head the past few months, honeybee. You’re my girl,” he said softly, “and I want you here.”

  I smiled and touched his hair, because I thought it was cute when he called me honeybee. But it was downright sexy to be his girl, and I showed him so by shifting on his lap in a way I hoped would entice him to break his rule about waiting until tonight.

  “Don’t try to distract me,” he said. “We’re having this talk now.”

  I blew out a sigh and stilled. “You’re a cock block.”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you off so easy tonight.”

  My insides clenched, and I wished we were already home from the party. I stood. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s talk.”

  He frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t think straight being that close to you.”

  “If thinking straight is a requirement, then might I suggest we do this over the phone?”

  “Very funny,” I said, moving to a dove-gray, heathered tweed couch on the other side of his office. I removed my shoes and sat against one cushioned arm with my knees bent. He followed my lead, and after toeing off his own shoes, sat opposite and extended his long legs on both sides of me.

  “I could get used to this,” he said, letting his eyes drift over me. “I look forward to spending my days learning what you love, what you don’t, and all the little details in between.”

  I put my hand on his shin. “Me, too.”

  “I want our relationship to be completely and totally open,” he continued. “Honesty—and the irony of this is not lost on me, but it’s the most important thing to me when it comes to us. No lies. No fibs. No telling me you’re goddamn fine when you’re not. Nothing.”

  I took a deep breath. It would be hard. Not that I wanted to lie, but I’d spent my life beating back the things I didn’t want to feel. Telling Bill I was “fine” and having him accept that made things easy. Telling David how I really felt, whether it was mad, sad, happy, jealous—that would be a challenge.