I reentered the ballroom, looking for Lucy but hoping I might spot David and reassure myself that he wasn’t hitting on Ritz. I stopped in my tracks when I was met with the unpleasant image of him handing her a drink with one hand, as his other hand rested on her back. Is that his type? Redhead, curvy and reeking of desperation? At least Maria was in his league. I bemoaned the fact that I had actually selected her as one of Chicago’s most date-worthy singles. How could I argue with my own taste?
I pounded the remainder of my drink and plunked it on the nearest table. I turned to leave when I saw two arguing guys in the corner almost knock over a table. “Hey!” I yelled, running over to them. “Stop! What are you doing?”
“No worries, babe, we’re just fucking around,” replied a young, stocky blond.
“Who are you here with?”
“We used to work in the restaurant downstairs, so we snuck in.”
“Dude, shut up,” the other one said. They burst into laughter. “What’s your name? You’re hot,” he said, his eyes slightly bleary. One of us was swaying, but I couldn’t be sure whom.
“You guys aren’t supposed to be here. I have to throw you out,” I said. They were on the verge of belligerent, and I decided that they might be better suited to a dank club somewhere far from here.
“Hang on,” the blond said, moving to block my way. “Let’s get a drink. I’ll buy.”
“No,” I said, deciding it wasn’t worth it to point out that the drinks were free.
“Come on,” he pleaded. “What’s your name?” My eyes darted around him, searching for security. He looked at me expectantly and sniffed.
“Liv,” I said distractedly.
“What is it?” the friend asked.
“Liz,” replied the blond.
“Liz, where’s your drink?” he asked, not bothering to hide his slurring. “Didn’t this asshole offer to buy you one?”
“I’m good,” I yelled. “But seriously, you guys have to go.”
“Lighten up, babe! You need a drink. Let’s go,” the friend said, laying a heavy arm over my shoulders. I moved to lift it off, suddenly reliving Mark’s hands on me.
“Let me go,” I yelled.
“What?” he asked into my ear, causing me to wince. “You’re not leaving are you? I’m going to get you a drink.”
“And I’m going to get security if you guys don’t leave. This is a private party.”
“No, no, no dude, don’t get security,” he said, tightening his grip.
“Please, get off!”
“Huh?”
“She said get OFF!” I looked up just in time to see David yank the guy’s arm from me and twist it before throwing him into the wall. He positioned himself in front of me and towered over the stocky blond, whose face flashed with a new alertness. “What the fuck don’t you understand about get off?” he yelled, pushing him into the friend.
“David?” I called in shock.
The friend yelled something, holding up his palms, but I couldn’t hear over the music. They hurried away and ran right into security.
David had regained his bearing and was now towering over me. “You need to start paying more attention to - ”
“What are you doing?” I sizzled. “I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly you can’t,” he shot back. “Those guys - ”
“Were completely harmless!”
“You don’t know that.”
“You know what? Forget it – I’m leaving,” I said, pivoting on my heel.
“Hang on,” he started, but I spun around to cut him off.
“Stay here. Enjoy the party.” I couldn’t help casting an obvious glance at Ritz, who was biting her nails by the bar where he’d left her. “You shouldn’t have any problems meeting someone,” I muttered, craning my neck to locate Lucy.
“Someone like Brian Ayers? There’s a match made in heaven.”
I paused. “What business is it of yours? I like him.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think he was your type.”
“I don’t have a type, David. I’m married.”
He took a step closer and the thrumming returned; only now it gave way to a full body vibration as he stared down at me. “So you keep saying. I’m beginning to wonder if you flirt with all of them the way you flirt with me.”
I balled my hands into fists on each side of me. “Again, not that it’s any of your business, but I was trying to set him up. In fact, he’s over there talking to Gretchen right now.” Even though I was making no secret of my irritation, I’d lost his focus. He was looking at one of my hands, which I now realized was nervously playing with the hem of my dress. “And I don’t.”
“Don’t?” he repeated, riveted as my fingertips grazed against my bare thigh.
I lowered my voice and rasped, “Flirt with them. Flirt with anyone, actually, the way I flirt with you.” He blinked from my hand to my eyes. I had his attention now. “Goodnight, David.”
“Goodnight?”
“I’m going to say good-bye to everyone.”
“Olivia,” he commanded, but I was already leaving. Damn you and your orders, I thought. It takes every ounce of my willpower to ignore them. “Stop running away.”
I turned around to find him one step behind me. “Leave me alone, David,” I whispered as calmly as possible.
“No,” he said, lightly grasping the wrist of the hand he’d been tracking.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, withdrawing. His touch was too intense, and I didn’t know what it would take to send me over the edge. I searched the room for an escape, deciding to forgo the formalities. I ended up at the elevator bank, impatiently punching the button.
“What – where are you going?” David asked my back.
“Home. Just go back to the party, David.” When he didn’t budge, I bolted for the service stairwell. I burst through the door and jumped when it slammed against the wall. I rushed down a flight of stairs and just stopped myself from turning back for my coat.
“Olivia!” he called from above. I held my purse to my breast as I rushed down the steps.
“Leave me alone,” I called over my shoulder. My heart leapt when I felt his unmistakable hand on my arm. He was damn near impossible to outrun.
“Stop! I’m not letting you run away. Are you mad at me? And where is your coat?”
I whirled around to face him as we stood on the landing, shivering from the stark surroundings and from the emotions that were beginning to escape. “Am I – am I mad?” I asked, seething. “What do you think?”
“Is it about this afternoon?”
“No. Y-yes – it’s about everything! Why are you here? I thought this was done.”
“I tried, believe me I did.”
“Tried what?”
“To stay away,” he said steadily. “I tried to stay away, but I can’t.” He glanced down at his feet, kicking at something that wasn’t there. When he looked up again, his eyes were blazing. “Spend the night with me.”
The breath flushed from my lungs, leaving me cross-eyed with lust. I could almost hear my body vibrating now, so coiled with desire that I knew I would snap if he touched me. “Why, so you can humiliate me again? Toss me aside like day-old garbage?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked roughly.
I watched him closely. “I don’t understand. Is this some sort of game for you? You pushed me away in Lucy’s office and then told me you never wanted to see me again. That you were finished with me. And now suddenly you want me?” A fluorescent light flickered somewhere above us, as though it were channeling my anger.
“Jesus, Olivia, is that what you thought? I left you that night because there was too much on the line, not because I didn’t want you. I was afraid of pushing you into something you might regret. But Olivia, you make it so fucking impossible,” he said, pleading up to the ceiling. His breathing was ragged and he looked back at me with stormy eyes. “I can’t be around you anymore because you drive me crazy ev
ery second of the day.” He ran both hands through his hair. “Fuck, if I don’t distance myself from you, I’m going to lose my sanity.”
I gulped in a shaky breath. The past few weeks had definitely been a test of my sanity.
“And when I ended things, you just took it, you didn’t even care. Just let me walk out. Tell me you care Olivia, and that I’m not completely delusional.”
“You know I can’t,” I whispered. How could he think I didn’t? It was oozing from my pores all the time, how much I wanted to touch him, how much I thirsted for his attention.
“Then show me.”
“What do you want from me, David?” I cried. “You expect me to jeopardize everything, ev-ery-thing, for . . . for what?” I exclaimed, my voice bouncing off the empty walls. “Sex? My marriage, my work, my friends . . . . My marriage!” I swayed slightly as I yelled, at the mercy of the alcohol that ran through me. “I can’t do it, David!”
“Olivia. How many times do I have to say it? Did you hear a word I just said? It’s not like that and you know it,” he intoned calmly, which only made me feel more hysterical.
“Oh, okay,” I said wryly, sweat forming on my nape despite the cold. “Where’s your date, David? Did she stand you up? Is that why you’re here now, in this stairwell? To see if I’ll fuck you?” I stepped up to him, coming right under his chin, my temper flaring and my thighs burning. “Well what’s stopping you, David? Why not take me now? I bet you don’t even have the decency to bring me upstairs.” I put as much venom as I could into the words and they felt bitter leaving my mouth.
“So help me God, Olivia,” he whispered, stepping back infinitesimally and locking his hands under his armpits. “Don’t test me. That date was over before it had begun, thanks to you,” he replied. “And I know what you’re doing. I know you’re afraid.”
“Afraid?” I cried, gesturing wildly. “Afraid of losing everything, yes!”
“You’re afraid of this. I am too. I want - ”
“Stop!” I shouted, covering my ears. “This has to stop,” I said. “Why won’t you stop?”
“Olivia, listen to me,” he said, crossing his arms tighter across his chest. His face became calm as he took a deep breath. “I am afraid. I have never touched a married woman. You might not believe me, but this has been hard for me too because it goes against all of my beliefs. My parents, who are my world, have been happily married for thirty-seven years, and I would kill anyone who tried to come between them. But it’s nothing compared to keeping it inside. I can’t hide it like you. And if I honestly thought he was the right person for you, I would walk away right now.” My heartbeat pounded in my stomach, reverberating throughout my body as he paused. “I have real and deep feelings for you and . . . I want to be with you.”
CHAPTER 22
I want to be with you.
“How can you say that?” I asked, incredulous but no longer yelling. “You barely know me. You have Maria, yet you see other women. You’re Chicago’s bachelor of the goddamn year. Everything you’ve said tonight, they’re just words and they don’t mean anything. Just give up already.”
“No.”
“You know what, at the end of the day David, you’re a player,” I spat, “and you want what you can’t have.”
“You think I can’t have you?” He stepped back into me.
“Wait,” I said, panicked.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, leaning a little closer. “I don’t think so. I want you. And I think you want me too.” He didn’t wait, like I’d asked. He was upon me in a moment, consuming me with a hard, open-mouth kiss that tasted of thick whiskey and sex. The warmth of his hands on my arms spread through me. He whipped off his jacket, never taking his lips from mine, and wrapped me in it, so that I was drowning in him, in a mossy blend of pine and aged leather.
“Show me you care, Olivia,” he breathed. “I need it. I need you,” he said softly into my ear, kissing the spot beneath it that made my knees buckle. Feather light kisses along my jawbone lit chills over my body, and he stopped at my lips. He stilled there, as I became painstakingly aware of the empty feeling between my legs that I wanted him to fill.
I looked into his eyes, and for a moment, everything else fell away. He took away the pain, all the things that hurt, and that I could never say out loud. Brown eyes pleaded with me to let him take over, to let him ease the hurt.
He squeezed my arms mightily, reminding me with a flex of strength that if he wanted, he could take me whether I agreed or not. “Show me, Olivia, I need you, only you.”
“I – I . . . ,” I breathed onto him, desperation for him filling me to the brim. The instant I surrendered to it, he engulfed me in a primal kiss that was all mouth, saliva, lips and teeth.
Our hands, for the first time, explored each other furiously. He slid his hands under the jacket and let the softness of his cashmere sweater thaw my skin. His fingers traveled behind my neck, over my shoulders and along my arms. They grazed the crease of my ass as his hands bunched my leather dress. They pulled me against a hard erection, but I was already moving past them, tugging his shirt from his pants, reaching underneath, touching his firm stomach; oh, how I had longed to know what his skin would feel like beneath my fingertips. He withdrew suddenly, ripping me from my adulation.
“This isn’t right,” he said.
“What?” I asked with breathless shock.
“Come upstairs with me,” he pleaded. He wrapped me up again and put his lips against the curve of my neck. My face burned deliciously from his stubble and only more of it would soothe the sting. “Come upstairs,” he whispered. My eyes rolled up to the ceiling as if the answer might be written there.
Before I could respond, pulling me down the second half of the stairs by my hand. I tried desperately to match his long strides, almost breaking into a run behind him.
David hit the ‘Up’ button when we’d reached the floor below. He slid his hand under the jacket that hung from me, sternly placing it on my shoulder as though I might try to run.
I opened my mouth to protest – say something, anything – but I was heady from the hand fastened to me and from the intoxicating, overwhelming scent of him. And then he looked down, comforting me with his eyes and his nearness. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, as though to remind me of it.
The elevator doors parted and David guided me inside with another couple. He swiped his card to the penthouse and we stood at two separate corners during the ascent. My mind raced faster than I could keep up. Now’s the time, I thought. Say something, Olivia! Stop this! The elevator charged with tension and the people in front of us exchanged a knowing look.
I opened my mouth again . . . He was a wall of exquisite beauty, his hands tentatively rubbing his brow and then pushing through his obsidian hair. He frowned, and then exhaled, and then frowned again, all the while watching the numbers rise, glancing at the couple in front of us, and then letting his eyes drift to me. His expression was pained; not just lustful or wanton, but pained and yet . . . adoring, as though I were finally his, something he’d finally acquired after a lifetime of longing. These were the things I thought I saw, they were what occupied my thoughts during the fateful elevator ride. With him, it didn’t take much; it was easy, it was right, it was as it should be.
He wasted not a moment, but pulled me to him once we were alone again. Voracious lips locked on mine as his hand found the hem of my dress. Stiff leather crackled audibly in the silence of the elevator, diminished only by the treasonous moan that escaped my lips when his rough hand moved against the soft skin of my inner thigh. Suddenly he was moving me backward out of the elevator, and somewhere in the distance, bells chimed or keys jingled.
Inside the apartment, he shut the door and leaned his forehead against it for a weighty moment. He didn’t bother with the lights, just turned to me in the dark. I was sobered by his stare, and the gravity of the situation began to set in; after this there would be no turning back.
I took a
step back, just enough for him to notice. He reached out, but I shook my head. “I can’t do this,” I said, but my voice wavered. “I don’t know how to do this.” I could barely form the sentence, due to an all-consuming desire. “David,” I pleaded breathily, asking him in that one word to have the strength I couldn’t.
He wet his lips and paced toward me, forcing me back into the wall like a scared kitten. He slipped the jacket off, brushing his hands against my arms, so it fell in a heap onto the floor. His immense body trapped mine against the wall when he placed his hands on both sides of my head. I’d been pinned to the wall not long before, and I’d been terrified. This time was different. This time, there was nowhere else I wanted to be. Regardless, I ignored my body’s impulse to submit. “I can’t do this, I can’t do this,” I repeated softly, shifting from foot to foot and glancing at the door. I willed myself to move.
Carefully, he reached down, encircled my wrists with each of his hands, pulled me forward and, with an unrelenting grip, quickly folded them behind my back, pinning me against the wall, stilling my body with his. “I have to leave,” I said.
“So leave.” I began to resist, thrashing against his hard body. I realized that this time, instead of walking away, he intended to fight against me, to fight for me. My arousal amplified rapidly from being bound by his hands, helpless in his grip.
My chin quivered, and I shook my head, lightly at first and then harder. His head was pulled back so his mouth hovered above mine, and I turned away from him, trying to focus on the door across the room. “Olivia,” he whispered thickly into my ear, the hairs of his cheek tickling mine. Nothing rivaled hearing my name on his lips. I yearned for the burn of his face on mine. I wanted this, I couldn’t deny, but I also knew that it was irreversible.
I stubbornly kept my head turned toward the door, knowing that one look into his eyes would be my undoing. Shifting my wrists firmly into the grasp of his left hand, he reached up with the other and slowly dug his fingers into my hair. My breathing grew shallow as he slid each bobby pin from its designated place and dropped it, chiming as it hit the floor. My hair fell plentifully around, me and he tucked a handful behind my ear, exposing my neck. His hands were callous as he gripped my chin, turning me to him. With the gentleness of a saint, he kissed my wound and drew back to look at me.
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