When we're finally in the apartment, Alyssa slides my jacket off my shoulders and gets to work on my buttons. She presses her lips into mine, a soft but hungry kiss. She moans. "I missed you so much."
I press my hands into her back, pulling her closer. She kisses me harder, deeper, her body melting around mine. "Let me... get into something more comfortable," she says with a giggle. "You could do the same."
"Comfortable how?" I smirk. It's fun to pull this out of her, to get her to admit how much she wants me.
"You know how," she says. She moves to the bedroom. "Give me five minutes." She bites her lip and shuts the door behind her.
Five minutes until a few scraps of silk are wrapped around her body like a bow around a present. Until I peel that bra and loose panties off her and run my hands over every inch of her body.
These are going to be the hardest five minutes of my life.
I strip to my boxers. Alyssa is in her bedroom, nearly naked, desperate for my hands on her body.
I wait for her to say "come in," to taunt me the way I always taunt her, but there's nothing. Finally, I can't take it anymore. I open the bedroom door.
And Alyssa is lying there, in that unbelievably sexy silk lingerie, fast asleep.
It's disappointing, but there's something so adorable about her like that, her body splayed over the bed like she's waiting to be ravaged.
I pull the covers over her head and get in bed next to her. I'll torture her plenty tomorrow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Alyssa
The smell of coffee wafts into the bedroom. My boyfriend is making me coffee. I'm the luckiest girl in the whole fucking world.
And then it hits me--I fell asleep last night. I fell asleep and somehow managed to stay asleep in this utterly gorgeous silk lingerie.
There's no use crying over spilled milk. I'm already dressed to kill. All I need to do is wash my face and brush my teeth and I'll get Luke right where I want him.
Luke is in the kitchen sipping a mug of tea, wearing nothing but his navy boxers. He has a devilish grin on his face. So he's not going to make this easy.
He looks me over slowly. "That's some outfit for breakfast."
"And yours?"
He brushes his shoulders and chest like he's smoothing his shirt. "You like it?"
I nod. I like it. And I'd like it more if those were my hands on his body.
Luke stands and moves towards me. He places his hands on my shoulders and runs his fingertips over my collarbone. His lips are inches from mine and my body hums from the proximity.
He brushes his lips against mine, as softly as humanly possible. His hands slide down my shoulders. I lean into him, grabbing his waist.
He kisses me harder, sucking on my lips.
Then the microwave beeps. Luke pulls away, the smile on his face lighting up his big, brown eyes. "Your breakfast is ready."
"Fuck breakfast."
"Sounds painful." He slides his fingers over my spine, his touch soft and delicate. "Unless. Do you have a banana you want to put in your... well, not in your oatmeal, I guess."
I fold my arms. "I hate you."
He smiles and kisses me again, hard, a kiss that says you're going to wait. "We have a full day ahead of us. You'll need your energy." He pulls away from me, finishes fixing breakfast, and takes a seat at the kitchen table. His gaze returns to me, passing over my body again. "You look amazing."
Not amazing enough, apparently.
"Don't pout, Ally. I'd love to fuck you right now."
My teeth sink into my lip and I reach for something, anything to grab.
"But first, I'm going to torture you all day. Until you're so wet, so ready that you think you might die if I don't fuck you properly."
Jesus Christ.
"How does that sound?"
"Umm..." I stammer, trying to wipe the shocked look off my face. "I can live with that."
"Good." He smiles and pats the seat next to him. "Your coffee is getting cold."
I fold my arms across my chest. "I'll change first."
"I wish you wouldn't."
His eyes pass over my body. It's a look of pure desire, and it sends electricity buzzing through my body. Fine. If he's going to torture me, I'll torture him too.
"I'm taking off my underwear and I'm not putting any on."
He smirks. "I like the way you think."
I drag my heels to the bedroom and pick out the sexiest outfit that is still weather appropriate. Thigh-high socks, ankle boots, and a short V-neck dress. A really, really short V-neck dress.
It's perfect.
When I return to the kitchen, Luke looks at me, well, like I look at him.
"You're going to pay for that," he says.
"Good."
I join him at the table and we talk about little things over breakfast. He asks about the play. I ask about his current cases, but he insists he wants to keep his mind off work. So I request the same. This weekend, well, this Monday and Tuesday, is going to be about us.
***
Luke and I are tourists all morning. We start at the MoMA, making our way through rooms of famous pop art and truly strange installations. He takes me into the staircase and runs his fingers over the edge of my dress. It's a small thing, something no one else would notice, but it wakes up all the nerves in my body.
We eat lunch at a quaint Japanese restaurant, and Luke keeps his mouth shut when I order nothing but sashimi. The fish is amazing, fresh and melt-in-your-mouth tender, and I almost relax, even though Luke is making a point of not watching me eat.
We linger in the restaurant, drinking green tea and catching up on all the little details of the last few weeks.
After lunch we take the subway to one edge of Central Park, and start making our way to the other end. It's quieter than I expected. And more of an oasis. If I don't look up, I can't tell I'm in the middle of the most populated city in the country. All I can see is long grass lawns, clumps of deep green trees, and little man-made lakes.
We walk quietly for a while, soaking in the scenery and the pure ecstasy of being only three inches apart.
Finally, Luke breaks the silence. "I've been thinking..."
"That doesn't sound like you."
He stops and pulls me towards him. Our bodies connect, his hands on the small of my back.
"I think about you constantly," he says. "You have a vise grip on my thoughts."
I shake my head, my teeth sinking into my lip.
"Ally, do you really doubt that?"
"Sometimes."
He runs his hands over my back. "Don't. I love you so much. More than anything." He leans closer, until I can smell his earthy aftershave, feel his breath on my cheeks. "I've been thinking about the future."
My face flushes as I struggle to find any appropriate words. "What about it?"
"I have an amazing vision of the immediate future--how I'm going to tear that dress off and lick every inch of your body."
He brushes his fingertips across my neck and jaw, resting his palm on my cheek. I turn into the gesture with a quiet sigh.
"You know I'm not good with the future."
"Do you see anything at all?"
I shake my head. "I can barely see getting through the next few months."
"You will." He brushes a hair behind my ear and brings his hand to my chin until our eyes are locked again. "And then we'll have the rest of our lives to spend together."
I bite my tongue. It should sound amazing. It does. But there's something about it, something that makes my knees weak and my grip shaky.
Luke pulls me closer, only for a moment. I close my eyes and press my lips into his, trying to pour everything I'm feeling into him. I can't explain it. I can't even figure it out myself. But I need him to know how I feel, how much I love him.
Our kiss breaks and he brings his gaze back to mine. It's sweet, sincere.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I nod. I'd rather we never discussed if I was okay ag
ain. He runs his hands over my arms. It's such a gentle, sweet thing. I feel like I could melt. But I stand firm as he takes my hand and continues our walk. "What do you want to happen next year?"
"I don't know. I guess I want to survive."
"Ally, I know you have higher aspirations than that. You don't get to be a TV star or a Broadway actor by only aiming to survive."
"I'm sorry, honey, but I don't know."
"Well, let's try it. Close your eyes."
"This is silly."
"Do it anyway," he says. He pulls me towards the side of the path, under the shade of a blossoming tree. "Now, close your eyes."
I do as I'm instructed.
"We'll start with something easy. Think about tonight. What are you going to do?"
A smile creeps onto my lips. "You know what I'm going to do tonight."
"And I want you to imagine it vividly. Every touch, every kiss, every caress."
I'm sure I'm blushing.
"Do you see it?" he asks.
"Yes."
"Now, let's move a little farther. Let's try next week. Can you imagine what you'll do next Monday, on your next day off?"
"No," I say. I try hard to imagine where I'll be next week, but all I can see is that apartment. I'll probably be lying in bed, dead tired, barely able to read my Kindle.
"You're thinking something. I can tell."
"I'll be in the apartment reading."
"That's a start." His voice is deep and soft, but there's an urgency to it, like there's something he's getting at. I bite my lip. Of course there's something he's getting at.
I'm not an idiot. He's asking about my future, but really, he's asking about our future. If I think we'll be together forever.
There it is again, that ugly word. Forever. I hate forever.
"How about next year. This time, next year, where will you be?"
I open my mouth to object, but I resist the urge. Where will I be next year? What do I see? I'm not entirely sure. There are hints of something--Luke getting home from work, slowly stripping off his suit, torturing me. We're in his house, our house, I guess. And we're going to eat dinner. But there's still a fuss, still all these questions, all this tension. We still can't manage to eat a damn meal without it becoming an interrogation.
Is that the future we're hurtling towards?
I blink open my eyes. "I don't want to do this anymore."
Luke squeezes my arm gently as he moves closer. "What is it?"
"Whatever this is, this self-help vision game, I don't want to do it anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't like it. Why is this something we have to talk about?"
"Our future together?"
I nod. "How about we let it happen instead of over-directing it."
"One question every few months isn't over-directing." He runs a hand through his hair, his expression filling with concern. Great. I'm a matter of concern again. "I love you, Alyssa, and I never doubt that I want to be with you. Do you doubt you want to be with me?"
"On occasion."
He bites his lip. "Okay. That's fair. You know what a fan I am of reasonable doubt."
I suppress a laugh. "That's only vaguely related."
"True, but it made you smile."
"Luke, you're killing me here."
"I know," he says. "But I won't be able to breathe properly until you tell me if you see a future together."
"We've been together for a year."
"That's not an answer."
"Are you going to keep sending my friends to check on me?" I ask. It's not an answer, not really, but it will deflect him until I can figure out what to say, how to explain the thoughts careening around my brain.
"You sounded shaky. I needed to know you're okay, even if I had to hear it from her."
"Why don't you ask me?"
"Would you tell me?"
"Maybe." I look up into his eyes. They're so sincere, I can barely take it. I have to look away, to bury my head in his chest.
"I love you, Ally. I'm not going anywhere."
"Even if I close off and shut you out?"
"Even then," he says. "But you still haven't answered the question."
"Can I think about it?" I ask.
"It's all I'm going to think about until you answer," he says. But he lets it go. And we return to walking around the park, the only sound the city around us.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Luke
Alyssa can't answer my question. It's a simple question and it should be an easy answer.
Either she sees a future together, or she doesn't. It's not like I expect her to share my enthusiasm for imagining our life together, but I'd think, by now, she sees something.
So we walk. We walk through the park silently, both of us locked in our respective heads. This is no good. This is not how things should be. But I offered her time. I have to let her wait.
I keep my mouth shut, my hands in my pockets. I may as well have stayed in Los Angeles for how close we are right now.
I glance at Alyssa. She's wearing a frown. Pressing her nails into her fingers.
I run a hand through my hair. Maybe we need a little time away from this subject of conversation. Maybe it's good to walk quietly, like we're...
No. It's not good. It's awful.
There has to be some way to convince her I can handle anything, that I'm not going anywhere, not ever.
I pull my hand out of my pocket and offer it to Alyssa. She says nothing, but she wraps her fingers around mine. Her skin is soft and warm, and, for a second, I feel like there's some way to get past this.
Then I feel a drop on my forehead.
Rain.
Then, almost out of nowhere, it's pouring.
"I thought we were past this phase," she says.
I move closer. "What phase?"
"The one where you sulk because I won't tell you what you want to hear."
"That isn't it, Ally. It's the way you... you act like I'm your enemy instead of your boyfriend."
"Because you act like you're interrogating me."
"If I had this all on the court record, I could prove how wrong you are," I say. "But it wouldn't do me any good, would it?"
She shakes her head.
I squeeze her hand and take a step towards the street. "Come on. Let's get out of here. Get somewhere dry."
"I don't mind the rain." She pulls her hand away and keeps walking. The rain is heavy and cold and the sky is gray around us.
"Ally!"
She moves faster, nearly running. She's going to fall, hurt herself. She'd probably do it just to get out of this conversation.
I run after her, grab her arm to stop her. "Fine. You don't mind the rain. Then talk to me in the rain."
"Why does everything have to be such an ordeal with you? Why can't we have a day together without it turning into some conversation about our future?"
"What are you waiting for?"
"It has nothing to do with you."
"You agreed to marry Ryan."
Any hint of pleasure drops off her face and she stares at me like I'm the root of all the misery in the universe. "Are you jealous of Ryan?"
"You saw a future with him. You don't see one with me. Maybe..." My fists curl into tight balls. My jaw clenches. Every muscle in my body is stiff and tense. I can't say that. I can't even consider the possibility that Alyssa should find someone she does see a future with.
"For a smart guy, you can be such an idiot," she says.
I can barely hear her over the sound of the rain pounding the sidewalk.
Her eyes are intense. "Do you know why I agreed to marry Ryan?"
"He convinced you that you'd never survive without him."
"Yes, but there's more to it than that. It wasn't a happy thing. I knew I was giving up any chance of ever being happy, really happy. I knew I was giving up the future I wanted. And I definitely knew I'd never have the kind of love we have. At least, the kind of love I thought we had
." She turns and rushes away again.
"Ally, wait."
She stops but she doesn't turn to face me. "Why are you bringing up Ryan?"
"I hate that you loved him."
"I didn't. Not the way I love you." She finally turns to face me. She's soaking wet, dripping actually, and her expression is anything but happy. "Can't you see that?"
I nod and take a step towards her.
"This isn't going to work unless you see that." She moves towards me. "Do you?"
"Alyssa, you're everything I've ever wanted. You're sweet, sincere, caring, and shy in the most adorable way. I love how pretentious you are. I love that you're tied to your Kindle. I love that you read awful shit like Heart of Darkness and lock yourself in your room to perfect your lines. But none of those are my favorite thing about you."
"Yeah?"
"My favorite thing about you is that you look at me like I'm the only thing in the world better than a perfect cup of coffee."
She laughs. It's a tiny thing, but it fills the whole, dreary park with warmth.
"I love you, Luke. I love you so much," she says.
"If I love you and you love me, why are we failing so horribly at talking to each other?"
She wraps her arms around me, burying her head in my chest. "I don't know. And I don't know why I can't see this future you keep talking about, but I do want to be with you. More than anything."
She rises to her tiptoes and kisses me. Her lips are soft and wet. All her skin, her hair, her clothes are wet from the damn rain that keeps falling on us. Her lips part and she slides her tongue into my mouth. It's equal parts hungry and sweet.
I run my hands over her back and she nearly moans. She's melting in my arms.
There's only one appropriate course of action.
I slide my hands to her ass, pressing my body hard against hers. She feels so good to touch--her perfect breasts, her round hips, her firm ass--but I fight my urge to rip off her clothes and fuck her right here.
Not yet. Not until she wants it as badly as I do.
I squeeze her ass, digging my hands under the edge of her dress. This time she moans into my mouth and slides her fingers around my neck.
Her back arches, her crotch shifting into mine. Blood rushes to my cock. I can feel her against me through the thin, wet fabric of her dress. God, I need to feel her against me, to feel her around me.
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