Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “Turn over,” I said after a while. I lifted onto my knees to allow him to flip onto his back. When I settled my bare pussy on his underwear, we both inhaled sharply. He looked up at me from under heavy eyebrows. I filled my hands with oil, took a deep breath, and touched his chest. I felt his pecs, his shoulders, his biceps. I made my way over the contours of his taut stomach. When I looked back at his face, he’d closed his eyes in peace.

  I was aware the moment he hardened under me. I was already wet against his underwear, had been for a while, and was further excited when the ridges of his cock twitched against me. I suppressed a moan at the thought of taking all of my man inside of me.

  You’re unreal, I thought as I looked at him. What if this has all been a beautiful dream? And when I wake up, it’ll be too soon . . .

  My tear fell onto his stomach, but with his eyes shut, he didn’t notice. I slid my hands under his lower back and dragged them back up. I let my fingers graze under the waistband of his underwear, and he jerked.

  He sighed heavily without looking and ran his hands over the outsides of my thighs. My hand skated up his stomach and then down again, reaching slightly farther under his waistband. He inhaled slowly but loudly and coaxed my hips over him, back and forth.

  Finally, he opened hungry eyes and slipped his hand inside my robe. It grazed up over my breast and neck until he cupped my jaw. “You look like an angel.” He pulled me down, and I curved my body to meet his lips as he added, “A fantasy.”

  I cocked my head slightly. A fantasy, I repeated in my head. A dream. A fantasy.

  He kissed me slowly, and I responded, unhurriedly letting my tongue memorize his mouth. My hips moved on their own, finding pleasure against the length of him. Without disconnecting from his mouth, I pulled down his underwear and put him inside me. We moaned at the same moment, exchanging hot breaths.

  A dream. A fantasy. A dream. A fantasy.

  The words ran through my head like a prayer, an appeal to something higher.

  Don’t take this away from me. I can do it for you, for you I can do anything. I could never walk away. David . . . my David.

  “David,” I whispered. “My David.”

  “Olivia,” he responded with his hands tangled in my hair. “Open your eyes.”

  I let my face fall into the space between his neck and shoulder and gyrated faster.

  “Baby.” I could hear him gritting his teeth, and I knew he was close, so I kissed his neck the way he liked.

  A dream. A fantasy. A dream. A fantasy.

  He pulled my hair so I was forced to draw back, but I avoided his eyes. I held on to his shoulders and clenched his cock inside of me to push him over the edge. “Come, baby,” I coaxed.

  “But you—” he bit out, inhaling through his mouth. “Fuck,” he said when I picked up my pace and squeezed again. He was gone. I dug my fingers into his skin as he shuddered and released into me, gripping my hips. I watched his face with fascination as it contorted with carnal bliss. While his muscles relaxed into the mattress, I kissed his jawline reverently, made my way down, and tucked my face into the crook of his neck.

  “Olivia,” he whispered hotly.

  This was it. I’d had my day with him, a beautiful day filled with his love. Now, I owed him the truth. I didn’t move, unable to face him.

  “Hey,” he said, pushing me off of his torso gently. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  “I know.” I nodded. “I love you.”

  He ran his hands over my body, feeling my back, my arms, my neck, my scar. “Tell me what you’re scared of, and I’ll fix it. I promise.”

  “My superhero.” I looked down at my hands and body, covered in oil. “Let me just rinse off first.”

  I crawled off the bed, closed the bathroom door, and steadied myself against the counter. In the mirror, I told myself I could do this. I had to. Afterward, nothing would be the same, but the thing was . . .

  I didn’t regret any of it. I’d fought so hard to keep from getting hurt, but as the pain filtered in, I also found strange and overwhelming peace in my endless, absolute love for David.

  27

  The shower’s hot water soaked me. Under the beating stream, the past few months rushed out through scalding tears—Bill’s harsh words, my mother’s disappointment, all the fears I still had and the ones I’d already conquered, and of course, the possibility of losing David now.

  And my heart leaked through my eyes for everything we’d built, everything we’d fought for. Were things meant to end this way, everything swirling down the drain? I heard the door open, but I stayed facing the wall. Moments later, his hand ran over the hair plastered to my back. My sobs redoubled at his touch. Despite the burning of my eyes and the trembling of my body, his touch soothed me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For what?” he asked softly.

  Finally, I turned to him and stared at him with wonder. He was a dream, even in soaking wet boxer briefs. “I should never have let things get this far,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath.

  He shut off the water before stepping out of the shower. I followed, and he wrapped me in a towel, securing my arms to my body. He guided me onto the edge of the bathtub, squatted on his heels, and looked up at me. “Let what get so far?”

  “I thought I’d change my mind,” I said. “I thought being with you would change everything, but . . . it hasn’t. I still feel the same.”

  “I don’t understand, Olivia,” he said, cupping my jaw.

  I took a deep breath as a sense of calm fell over me. Thankful that there were no tears left in me, I looked him in the eye. And I said it. “I don’t want children.”

  His hand withdrew immediately, and his expression cleared.

  In the ensuing silence, I tried to read his reaction, but he just stared at me with huge brown eyes. It took a lot to shock David, but now, he seemed unable to even process what I’d said.

  So, I continued.

  “I’ve seen you with Alex,” I said. “I know you’ll be an incredible father. You want it. I can see it. I’m sorry for waiting this long to tell you, but . . .” I paused when my voice wavered. “I honestly thought we had more time.”

  I was wrong. I was not cried out. Tears began to spill again, sliding down my cheeks and dropping into my lap.

  And for once, David didn’t catch them. He looked away and focused on the tiled wall. At least it gave me a moment to trace the lines of his jaw with my eyes, to memorize the curve of his magnificent lips and the chestnut, golden color of his eyes. He really was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And he’d almost been mine.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to the wall. “I don’t know what to say. I need . . .”

  Space. He didn’t have to say it. I’d asked for it often. Sometimes he’d granted my wish. Others, he’d pushed back. This wasn’t something either of us could push, though. I knew that. I’d been pushed in the past, and it’d driven me away.

  I stood from the edge of the tub, walked to the bed, and slid between the sheets. Covering my face with my hands, I cried. David never came, and eventually, I fell asleep.

  * * *

  I opened my eyes to a dark room, my towel still wrapped under my armpits, my pillow damp from my hair. I sat up slowly, trying to orient myself.

  “Olivia.” David’s figure sharpened in the dark. He leaned forward and turned on the bedside lamp.

  “What time is it?” I mumbled.

  “Three in the morning.”

  “Have you slept?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

  “No. I’ve been downstairs.” With a bath towel in his hands, he climbed into bed behind me. He straddled me and ran the towel through my hair, scrubbing lightly. “What have I told you about going to bed with wet hair?” he said in quiet admonishment.

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said with a quivering chin.

  He continued to pat my hair, and when it was as dry as possible, he threw the towel and my pillow on the floor. “Turn around. We’r
e going to talk about this,” he said. “No more hiding.”

  I did as he said, my shoulders slumped forward. “Do you want children?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “I always imagined I’d have them, yes. I never really questioned it. I assumed it was what you wanted, and so . . . I just figured it would happen.”

  Each of his words stung like little knives in my heart, not because of what he said, but because of the picture he painted that would never be. I gave him a shallow nod. “I understand. I should have told you.”

  “I should’ve asked.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I whispered, looking down. “It’s no one’s fault.” After a brief pause, I said, “I understand if you need space right now.”

  He sat cross-legged and quiet in his plaid pajama pants. “What do you mean?”

  “You need time to process this—away from me, from us, because this,” I gestured between us, “clouds your judgment, just like it did mine.”

  He lifted his chin and said evenly, “Don’t tell me what I need.”

  “But you should take it.”

  “I don’t need time. I don’t want to lose you, so we’ll find an answer.”

  “There’s no answer, David,” I said. My urge to wallow had passed, and now, it was time to put the entire truth out there. “I could never take fatherhood from you. I won’t do it.”

  “I can make my own decisions.”

  “I know you can.”

  “Every time we get close, you run. Now you’re trying to get me to run. I can’t help but feel like you’re sabotaging what we have.” He shook his head and looked away. “It sounds like you want me to leave you.”

  “Of course I don’t want that,” I cried immediately. “But the only thing worse than you leaving would be you resenting me years down the line because I took this away from you.”

  His jaw set, and he turned back to me. “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I have some questions.”

  I dipped my head into a nod. “Ask me anything.”

  “Why don’t you want children?”

  Well, that wasn’t just any question. It was the question. And there was no clear answer. “I’ve tried to rationalize it. I can’t,” I said. “It all comes down to my gut. My instinct says motherhood is not the path for me.” I rewrapped my towel around myself and tilted my head. “I don’t see it in my future, David. And if I can’t see it with you, then I never will.”

  “Can you see me in your future?”

  “You’re all I see,” I said quietly. “That’s why this has been so confusing.”

  His expression remained hard, as if he were trying to push through this instead of—what? Did he want to walk out? Cry? Beg me? Shake me?

  “Does this have something to do with your mom?” he asked. “Are you afraid?”

  A fair and crucial question that I’d had time to think about considering . . . “Bill asked me the same thing.”

  “Because you’re not her, Olivia.” David’s features finally softened. “You’d make a phenomenal mom. You’re so loving. You have so much to give when you let yourself.”

  I blinked at him. Did I? Was I this warm and loving creature David thought I was, or cold and heartless as Bill had accused? Could I be warm, loving, and selfless and still not want children? “You’re right,” I said. “I’m not her. I’d never be the type of parent she was.”

  With his elbows on his knees, he steepled his hands in front of his face, as if interacting with a client. “So this isn’t because you’re afraid of turning out like her?”

  I’d learned a great deal about myself over the past few months. But long ago, I’d learned from my mom’s mistakes. I’d thought I was destined to become her, but David had proven to me that I could handle what came my way. My mother was an example of what I didn’t want to become. In that respect, at least, she’d been the right kind of bad role model. I wouldn’t be the same kind of mother, so I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I recognize that fear of becoming her, and I’ve already overcome it once to keep you. I could do it again. But this is something else. It runs deeper.”

  He nodded slowly, resting his forehead against his fingers. “Explain something to me if you can,” he said and peeked up at me. “Why was it so hard for you to let go with me?”

  I’d lived in a quiet, safe cage, and David had rattled it, broken the chains, opened the gate to set me free—only to have me stay inside where I’d been comfortable. Now that I’d finally stepped out, I could never return to that. “I was afraid once I let myself love you, I’d lose you,” I said. “And I didn’t think I could handle it.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t the same thing?” he asked. “You’re not afraid of loving a baby too much?”

  “The idea does scare me,” I admitted. “That I’d be responsible for this being, and there’d be no second chances, no room for mistakes.”

  “All parents make mistakes.” He arched a dark eyebrow. “Jessa does all the time.”

  I half-smiled. “I know. But it’s not just that. It’s instinct. And I know what you say about your instincts . . .”

  “I never ignore my gut,” he said, quoting himself. “Even when it gets me in deep shit.”

  “But, David, if the alternative is losing you . . .” Walking away from him now wasn’t an option. I was committed. Everything I had, everything I was, I wanted to share with him. If he wanted to end this, I would respect that, even while it killed me. But I’d spent all day wondering if I’d willingly walk away, and the answer was—I wouldn’t.

  “I could do it,” I whispered, searching eyes that had the ability to melt away all my fears and doubts. “For you. I could make you a father.”

  David’s response came out strangled. “I would never let you do that for me, Olivia. You know I wouldn’t.”

  Of course I’d known—it was part of what I’d been hiding from. David would let me go before he asked me to do this for him the way Bill had.

  “Fuck.” David dropped his head in his hands. “I never gave having children much thought, I guess because I just figured it would happen one day.”

  “It’s the only reason the proposal scared me.” I wrapped my hand around his wrist, and he raised his head to look at me. I took his coarse palm in my hand. “I loved everything you said this morning. I would’ve accepted on the spot if I could’ve.” I swallowed. “I want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything about the decisions I’ve made. I’d leave my life behind all over again, and I’d let you tear down my walls a second time, even for the short life we’ve led together. Thank you for showing me—”

  “Oh, come on, Olivia,” he said almost angrily. “You don’t think I’d give up that easily, do you? Give me some fucking credit.”

  I withdrew my hand, surprised by the tidal wave of anguish that crashed over me. The most heartbreaking part was that we could no longer fight. There was nothing to fix. We’d each given it our all.

  “You have to give up.” Tears spilled from my eyes. “Fighting it will only make it harder. The sooner we end this, the better.”

  “What the fuck?” he asked. “Is that what you want?”

  “Of course that’s not what I want!” I nearly screamed and choked on a sob. “I want you all to myself for the rest of my life. I want to quit my job and travel the world with you and eat and drink and fuck and love you forever. I want to go to Spain and lie on the beach and eat oysters and write my book, but this is real life, David. This is not a dream or a fantasy. What choice do we have?”

  He blinked at me a few times, as if speechless. “I want those things, too,” he said, but his voice wavered.

  “You say that now, but you don’t know what you’d be giving up. Because I love you, and I want your own happiness more than my own, I can’t take this away from you.” I couldn’t help myself from crawling into his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.

  He sat back against the headboard, squeezing me to him. “But I love you,” he said, almost under his breath.
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  I wanted to claw open my chest and rip out my heart so I could give it to him.

  Take it. Take it all, because I will never need it again. I don’t want it.

  I wasn’t sure if he fell asleep, but his hold on me never loosened. This was my dream, my fantasy, my heaven, my nightmare, to be bound and wound with a love as strong as this.

  Eventually, when light began to filter through the shades, I sat up.

  David sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We have to go if we’re going to make our flight.”

  While he showered, I knotted my tangled and unruly hair back and brushed my teeth. With puffy eyes, a red nose, and an empty gaze, I fleetingly thought . . .

  This is exactly how I imagined I would look at the end.

  28

  David and I returned to a snowy Chicago. The stark contrast from Miami wasn’t only apparent in the weather. David and I had traveled in relative silence. He’d been attentive as always, making sure I’d been comfortable during the flight, but I could tell he’d been deep in thought. I, on the other hand, finally had nothing left to think about.

  Fortunately, I’d taken the day off, but David had booked us an early flight so he could go in to work. After putting me in a cab with our luggage, David had gone straight from the airport to his office.

  I spent the day in the den, watching movies in the dark, because the alternative was worrying myself sick. I hated being in limbo, not knowing what David would decide. I couldn’t envision anything beyond the end of us. David was right—I did see him in my future, and I’d seen him in that house. So didn’t that mean something?

  My anxiety heightened when the third movie ended, and I realized it was nearing ten o’clock at night. My phone had been quiet. I picked it up from the coffee table and checked my inbox. A subject line jumped out at me.

  Re: Hi

  Lucy had responded to my last e-mail.