Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection

by Hawkins, Jessica

  Bent over the sink, I watched as he came down. He held my head, his eyes closed as he whispered things I couldn’t understand into the back of my hair, as if in prayer. I knew I should feel guilty about the fact that we hadn’t used a condom, but Manning looked about as content as I felt. For the first time, it didn’t feel like the end of the week, but the beginning of our lives.

  We got back in the shower. He washed my hair and between my legs. I soaped his body, gliding my hands over the planes of his chest, the hard lines of his muscled stomach and the curves of his biceps. I trailed my fingers down the ripple of his veiny forearms until I had him hard and eager in my hand.

  “You’re ready to go again?” he asked.

  I blushed, embarrassed by my hunger. “Aren’t you?”

  He thrust a little into my fist. “Do you need more evidence?”

  “I brought something to show you,” I said.

  “What’s that, Birdy?”

  “We have to get out of the shower.”

  We dried off, and I toweled my hair dry as best I could. We’d had all the difficult conversations, and we were still doing this. Finally, it felt real, like Manning was coming home to me—like Manning was mine. I was so excited to show him my surprise that I pushed him out of the bathroom while he was still wrapping a towel around his waist. “Don’t look yet,” I said, dumping my overnight bag all over the floor, too impatient to rifle through it. When I found the pajamas I hadn’t worn in five years, I ran into the bathroom, changed, and came out to find Manning smoking through a small sliver of window.

  I stood across the room from him, waiting for his reaction. I wasn’t sure if he’d remember. He looked me over, his eyes lingering on the thin straps, the lacy edge of my pajama shorts. He took a drag and blew it right into the room.

  “Manning.”

  “Huh.”

  “The smoke.”

  Absentmindedly, he waved his hands, his eyes still on me. When he didn’t speak, I glanced down at the pink gingham pajama set I’d bought to wear on prom night. It was the same thin camisole and matching shorts I’d been wearing when Manning had set me on his kitchen counter and almost kissed me while Tiffany had slept in the next room. “It’s—”

  “I know what it is.”

  “I sewed the strap.”

  “What was wrong with the strap?”

  “You tore it that night,” I said.

  A low grumble from his throat. I’d gotten the sense during our time together that Manning liked to be reminded of my younger self. Our gentle interactions from that time in our lives could be changed into the most forbidden kind of sex we could have. I would think of all the times I’d had to restrain myself and imagine acting on them. If we had access to that truck we’d gone out in the night on the lake, I’d fuck him in it.

  But, even if it were true that our unspoken roleplay did it for both of us, perhaps there was a line. Now that I knew about Manning’s father, and what had driven Manning to such extremes in the past, it was possible he could use this as an opportunity to beat himself up. “Did I go too far?” I asked.

  Skyscrapers rose behind him, lit windows dotting the darkness. He didn’t make a move, but the look in his eyes said come. Barefoot, I crossed the room. “Is it okay?” I asked. “I’ll change back.”

  He took another hit of nicotine, adjusting his towel with one hand.

  “Manning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you going to say anything?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He put out his cigarette on the exterior windowsill and stood. With his hands on my shoulders, he walked me backward until the backs of my legs touched the bed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He untied the string of my shorts. “I’m making love to you in your sweet pink pajamas, Birdy, that’s what I’m doing.”

  17

  Manning

  I woke up with a pink-pajama-clad princess in my arms. After I’d made love to her well into the night, I’d had her put the pjs back on. Even now, as I opened my eyes and took in the outline of her breasts under the thin fabric, the sliver of skin under the hem of the top, my greedy dick twitched. I hadn’t been inside her for a few hours, and I wanted more.

  Lake’s hair was tangled between us since she hadn’t brushed it after the shower and I’d had my hands in it all night. It also smelled fucking amazing. I buried my nose in it, and that led to nuzzling her neck, pressing kisses to her cheek. We’d only just gone to bed, but my time with her was limited. I had a flight to catch this afternoon.

  I squeezed her close. Months of winter had made her pale, while my skin was brown and darkened with hair, like some kind of beast. I had a moment of panic that I wasn’t supposed to be in this hotel, that I’d actually sleepwalked into her bedroom, unable to help myself any longer, and taken her against her will.

  She sighed and snuggled her ass into my crotch. “Manning?”

  “Yeah, Birdy.”

  Her cheeks went a little pink and she shook her head. “No, nothing. I just wanted to tell you how happy I am.”

  “Hmm.” I didn’t buy it. There was something behind every sweet little “Manning?” and I wasn’t letting her get away with it. “You want something, but you have to tell me what,” I said. “I can’t read your mind.”

  She was trying not to look giddy. After a moment, she repeated, “Manning?”

  My chest rumbled with a chuckle. The sleepy, sated expression on her face made her seem even more adorable. Fuck, the obscene things I had done to her, and still planned to do . . . I really was a beast. “What is it?”

  “You remember the other night how you made me, you know, with your mouth and hands?”

  I kept laughing. “I remember.”

  “Can you do that again?”

  “I’ve corrupted you.”

  “It’s just that it felt so good.”

  “Aren’t you sore?” I asked.

  “A little. That’s why your mouth feels nice.”

  I’d gone overboard last night. I hadn’t meant to take her more times than I could count, but I wasn’t able to get enough. I’d come and be hard minutes later. I was so fucking scared of what would happen once I got on that plane. I wanted to stay and not deal with all the shit waiting for me at home.

  “I don’t care,” she added. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before we’re together again.”

  Panic tightened my chest once more. It wouldn’t be any easier here for Lake as she waited for news from me. “We should probably take a break for a little while,” I said.

  “Oh. Are you sore, too?”

  She was too cute this morning, and maybe that was intentional, to torment me for leaving. “No,” I said. “I just want to lie here with you for now.”

  She ran her fingers along my forearm and I fought to keep my eyes open. After last night, after the past few days, I thought I could sleep for a week.

  “You know all those things you said last night?” she asked. “Did you mean them?”

  I knew what she was referring to, and for better or worse, I meant all of it. Begging for me to claim her pussy, no matter the consequences? “Fuck yes.”

  Her cheeks rounded, as if she was holding in laughter. “So you’re really going to move into my shitty apartment? That dump?”

  “It won’t be a dump once I’m through with it.”

  “What about Val?”

  I swung my leg over hers, trapping her against the bed. “What about Val, goddamn it?”

  “She can stay with us, right?”

  I scraped my stubble against a part of her neck that made her howl. “It tickles,” she screamed, trying to get away. “Fine, fine. Val can’t come!”

  I released her. She hopped up and started jumping on the bed. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” she said, her top billowing enough for me to get quick glimpses of what was underneath. “You and I are going to live together.”

  I watched he
r, mesmerized by her golden hair, her sparkling blue eyes. I would’ve agreed to anything she asked for in that moment. I hadn’t seen her this happy since I’d gotten here, as if the dark cloud hanging over our affair was lifting. “Yes we are.”

  “And buy groceries together. And paint the apartment. And sleep in the same bed. Every night.”

  “You got it.”

  She jumped so high, she reached up and touched the ceiling. “This is the best day—no, no, no. It’s the best morning of my life.”

  “I don’t get a full day?” I asked.

  “No, because you have to leave.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I wished I had a cigarette so I could just lie here and drug myself and watch her jump all morning. “You know, now that we’re together,” I said, “when you do things like this . . .”

  She was out of breath and smiling as she stopped and looked down at me. “What?”

  “You can do them naked.”

  She hid her face with her hands, but I caught the redness creeping up her neck. “You don’t think I’m being childish?”

  Maybe she was, but didn’t she know I loved her like this? Hadn’t I fallen for her before any of this, when she’d been naïve and silly and prudish, as Tiffany had liked to call her? Hadn’t I gone overboard again and again trying to protect this side of her? Childishness was allowed. “I love you,” I said.

  “Then come up here and jump with me.”

  “The bed would go right through the floor.”

  She stepped over me with one foot so I could see right up the leg of her shorts. “Enjoying the view?” she asked.

  “Very much.” I licked my lips, running my hands up her calves. “Take off your top.”

  We’d been together less than five days, and she was still self-conscious. With hesitation in her eyes, her movements were stilted as she peeled off the tank . . . and dropped it on my face.

  I tossed it aside. “Keep jumping.”

  With a light laugh, she bounced the mattress enough to make her tits jiggle. Jesus, I felt like a fucking king in that moment—a king preparing to devour his only subject. “I never thought,” I said, “not in a million years . . .”

  She grinned. “That I’d jump on top of you?”

  “Did you hear what I said just now? I love you, Lake.” I knew she felt the same, but she hadn’t said it since I’d arrived. I understood why, but now I was headed into battle, and I needed her to armor me. I slid my hands higher, causing her breath to catch. “Tell me you do, too.”

  She stood there, her chest rising and falling, her expression turning serious. “You know I do.”

  “So say it, my beautiful, silly girl. It’ll keep me going while we’re apart.”

  Her legs trembled as I massaged her through her shorts. She made me wait, and when she finally said it, her voice was as soft and lovely as the pussy my fingertips were inching toward. “I love you,” she said.

  I’d heard it before, when she’d told me on the beach, but it felt like the first time. I wanted her as much now as I had that night, as much as I had hours ago when I’d fantasized about impregnating her, as much as the first time, when I’d stood outside her unlocked door, fighting myself. “Good girl,” I said. “You are, aren’t you? Show me how good you are. I want to see all of you from this angle.”

  Slowly, she stepped out of her shorts. “Like that?”

  “Underwear, too.”

  She did as I said, and I reached up easily, running my thumbs through the blonde curls covering her mound, parting her sweetly pink pussy for my viewing pleasure. “This image will stay with me until my deathbed,” I said matter-of-factly. I touched her with as much restraint as I could manage. “You are a good girl,” I said, easing a finger into her. “I can fuck you raw and you’re still wet for me.”

  She whimpered, and my lids fell with that little noise. I continued my exploration of her, felt her tense as I approached her asshole. Did I think she was ready for me to play there? Not by a long shot. There was plenty of time for that down the line, though. She didn’t yet know the half of what I’d do to her. For now, it was fun to watch the filthy thought occur to her, the horrified look it put on her reddening face.

  While I was cooking up what crude thing I wanted to do to her next, the phone rang. I froze, and so did she. I knew without answering who it was—and so did she. It was early here, which meant it must’ve been dawn in California. I wanted to wait until tonight to talk to Tiffany, until we were face to face, but I owed her at least a quick conversation before I got on the plane.

  Later. Now wasn’t the time.

  We stilled until the ringing stopped. Lake’s expression had fallen, and I didn’t want the countdown to the flight to start just yet. I dropped my hand to my stomach. “Come sit down and let me do ‘that thing’ with my mouth,” I said, teasing her.

  “If you insist,” she said, a smile spreading over her face. She started to step off me, but I grabbed her ankle. “Where are you going?”

  “To sit like you said.”

  “Why over there?” I asked, pulling her down. “My mouth is right here.”

  18

  Manning

  It was just after ten in the morning, and I’d already worn Lake out again. She’d fallen asleep on my chest forty-five minutes earlier and had barely stirred. I’d have to start packing for the airport soon, but for now I was content to stay here and run my hand from the base of her spine up to her neck and back. She had the smoothest skin and baby fine hairs, with random freckles that reminded me of the constellations Maddy had taught me when we were kids.

  Lake looked so fucking peaceful that when the phone rang, I grabbed it without thinking so it wouldn’t disturb her. She woke anyway and now I was pinned under her with what was likely Tiffany on the line.

  I cleared my throat and brought the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Hello?” Tiffany said. “That’s all you have to say? I’ve been calling and calling. Where have you been?”

  Lake furrowed her eyebrows up at me. I smoothed my hand over her hair and said, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Tiff. Hold on a sec.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked.

  I put my hand over the receiver as Lake got up. “Give us a minute,” I whispered.

  She nodded, wrapping a blanket around her as she ducked into the bathroom and shut the door. I watched her go, hoping last night was the breakthrough Lake and I needed to be able to talk about this. I’d need to lean on her a lot in the coming months.

  I picked up the phone again. “Hey. I’m here.”

  “I’ve been worried, Manning. I call late at night and there’s no answer. I called you over an hour ago and you weren’t there.”

  “I was here,” I said. “Sleeping.”

  “At nine in the morning? Since when do you sleep in?” Her voice pitched as if she’d already had several cups of coffee. “And that doesn’t explain the rest of the week.”

  I rubbed the inside corners of my eyes. “I know.” I didn’t have an explanation, and I didn’t want to lie to Tiffany so I just said, “I’ve been busy.”

  “Busy?” Her voice broke. That jarred me into waking up.

  I sat against the headboard, keeping my voice down so Lake wouldn’t have to hear this. “What’s the matter?”

  “I was so excited to talk to you. I called and called, and now I just feel . . . so stupid.”

  “Stupid why?” I asked.

  “You’ve been unreachable practically all week. Thank God Daddy said you’d been to your meetings or else I would’ve flown out there.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” I said, my hands sweating at just the prospect.

  “Am I? Or have you been avoiding me?” She got strangely quiet, and I fucking knew it was coming as she took her next breath. “Is it because you—is she . . .”

  Fuck. Now I was wide awake. This was the exact reason I hadn’t wanted to pick up her call. If Tiffany chose now to voice her suspicions about Lake, after all the ye
ars we’d swept my feelings for her under the rug, we were about to have a brutal conversation over the phone. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, leaning my elbows on my knees. “Tiff, I . . .” I started. “Can we talk about this when I get back?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  She paused, the familiar sounds of Good Morning America in the background. I could picture her curled up on our eggshell-colored sectional from Robinsons-May with a cup of coffee before getting ready for work. “I want you to say you’re coming home tonight.”

  I inhaled. “I’m coming home, but—”

  “Then never mind. It isn’t stupid.” The TV went quiet, as if she’d muted it. “I don’t want to start things off on a bad foot. Come home, and we’ll put all that, we’ll put New York, behind us.”

  I sighed longingly at my jeans, which hung on the back of the desk chair with a pack of smokes sticking out of the pocket. “Start what off, Tiffany? I still have to pack. Can I call you from the airport once I’ve woken—”

  “Manning, babe, listen.” She took an audible breath and then squealed the way she had when she’d gotten her promotion and slid down our tile hallway in socks. Stunned, I pulled my ear away from the phone at the same moment she said, “I’m pregnant.” The shrieking continued as she teased, “That’s what I’ve been calling to tell you, you big dummy.”

  With the phone a safe distance from my ringing ear, I swore I’d misheard her. All the baby talk last night had gone straight to my head. “You’re what?” I asked.

  “We’re having a baby, Manning.”

  This time, I heard her loud and clear, bolting up so fast, I dropped the receiver and had to chase after it. I nearly tripped over the coiled wire, and as I picked the phone back up she was saying, “. . . believe it? You’re going to be a dad, just like you wanted.”

  What hit me first was a sense of pride—my baby, I was going to be a dad—but in the next moment came the crushing realization that this wasn’t right. Tiffany was on the other end of the line, not my Lake, who was in the bathroom, preparing to jump off a cliff into a future with me. It was a baby I’d once wanted, still wanted, a beautiful blessing, a chance to atone for my father’s wrongs—and the one thing that could truly come between Lake and me.