Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  With a small growl, he adjusted his shorts. “Give me that,” he demanded impatiently.

  “I’m not finished.”

  “Now, Olivia.”

  Without looking up, I passed him the bottle.

  “Sit up.”

  I obeyed, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around my knees.

  He threw a long leg over the width of the chair and sat behind me. I dropped my forehead on my knees and sighed while he massaged sunscreen onto my back. He tugged on the tie and let the strings drop. With my breasts pressed against my thighs, I held my bikini top in place.

  Even after he’d run out of sunscreen, he continued to knead my skin. His muscular hands pushed into me hard, but I suspected he wasn’t even using half his strength. I groaned into the ache as he worked my shoulders and then up my neck. He inched forward, closing any space between us, his erection digging into my lower back.

  I bit into my knee, already wet in my bikini bottoms. He swept my hair over one shoulder and pressed his lips to the top of my spine. His hands slipped between my chest and thighs to cup my breasts while he kissed the length of my neck.

  “Are you feeling me up in my dad’s house?” I whispered.

  “Mhm.” My nipples tightened under the gentle force of his fingers. “I’d give anything to be inside you right now,” he said into my ear. I sucked in a sharp breath just as his hands fell away to retie my bikini.

  “Wait, no.” I groaned into my knees. “Don’t stop.”

  “Sorry,” he said, tightening the bow. “I don’t trust myself one second longer.”

  In one motion he was standing beside me again.

  Despite my frustration, I grinned when I glanced at his tented shorts. “Honey,” I said, “can’t you do something about that? My dad could be back any second.”

  “Shit.”

  “Pool?” I suggested.

  “After you.”

  “Oh, no, I’m—”

  He scooped me up, and I squealed as he tossed me into the deep end.

  “David!” I swiped hair out of my eyes just as he landed a few feet away.

  He resurfaced, whipping his hair away from his face. “We needed to hit the reset button,” he said.

  “It’s cold,” I whined but made no move to get out.

  “You’ll survive.”

  I laughed. “Thanks for going running with my dad, by the way.”

  “I wanted to,” he said, swimming backward. “He’s in great shape.”

  “What’d you guys talk about?”

  “Not much. We mostly ran.”

  I smiled to myself.

  He jutted his chin at me. “What?”

  “I was just trying to picture Bill running with my dad. That would never happen.”

  “Your dad said the same thing.”

  “He likes you,” I said.

  David grinned wide, showing off all his teeth.

  “I see that makes you happy,” I observed with a giggle.

  “His approval is the only one that means anything to me,” he said.

  I cocked my head. “Only his? Not my friends’? My mom’s?”

  He swam closer to me, his agile limbs cutting through the water like knives through butter. “Only his.”

  I wished it were as simple as that. Not everyone approved of us, and it wasn’t easy to just forget that or move on. “The other night, at dinner, you said you spoke to Andrew.”

  David nodded. “Yeah.”

  When he didn’t continue, I had a feeling there was a reason. I glanced away. “What else did he say? Anything about Lucy?”

  David followed my gaze across the backyard. “In a nutshell, Andrew’s loyalty lies with Bill. I can respect that. He’ll talk to Lucy, but she’s pissed. At both of us.”

  “I thought I would’ve heard from her by now,” I said. “It’s been a week since I told her.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I really am.” He pushed a hand through his inky wet hair. “Maybe you should try calling her.”

  I nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Andrew also said that Lucy and Gretchen are on the outs, but he didn’t elaborate.”

  I gave him a knowing smile. “It’s probably because Gretchen told Dani to go to hell on the phone the other night.”

  His gaze fixed intently on me. “Did you really call Dani a—what was it? Judgmental bitch?”

  I swallowed and tried to look contrite as my cheeks heated. “I mean, she was talking shit about you and me.”

  He shook his head. “Scrappy, honey. I’m just glad you and Gretchen are on my side.”

  “Gretchen’s been rooting for you since she found out the truth about us. Especially since she called you while Bill was out of town and told you to come to my apartment. I don’t know what you said to her, but she bought it.”

  “I wasn’t trying to sell her anything. I didn’t even have to tell her I was miserable. I just told her the truth . . . that I love you. That I’d purchased the house so I could curl up in front of the fire with you. Throw a ball in the front yard with Alex or with . . .”

  My stomach flipped with what he didn’t say. It was unlike David to hesitate or beat around the bush. I fidgeted with the strap of my bikini. “Were you going to say with your own son?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a gentle smile.

  Kids. The topic had spurred the worst fights between Bill and me, and the sting was still fresh. My perspective on life had drastically changed since David. Had this part changed, too?

  I took a moment to picture David with a young, teenaged version of himself, tossing a football in fall with the turning leaves as a backdrop as I watched from our porch. My heart melted. It was sweet. But was it enough to make me want to be a mom?

  What if the answer was no?

  My stomach churned at the thought of getting back on that rollercoaster of trying to figure out what I wanted, what I owed David, and what my desires—or lack thereof—could do to a new relationship.

  Thankfully, David kept talking. “So, if I’m to understand correctly, you’ve spent the week hearing from Bill and Dani that I’m a player who will soon grow tired of monogamy.”

  “More or less,” I said. “But I have Gretchen and my dad to thank for setting me straight.”

  “I owe them then.”

  “My dad said that even though he loves and misses Gina, his second wife, he wouldn’t change a thing about their relationship. He said he doesn’t regret loving her.”

  “Why would he regret loving her?”

  “I asked if he did,” I said.

  David inched toward me. “You asked that because . . .?”

  “He’s been through a lot with her, and I can tell he’s hurting over their breakup.”

  “But why would anyone regret loving someone?” David asked.

  “When you love that hard, it’s almost inevitable that someone will end up hurt,” I said. “Why do so many people risk it? My dad explained that even though he still loves Gina but can’t be with her, he wouldn’t change their history.” I reached out for David’s hand and drew him closer, until we were face to face. “I get it now. After last night, after whatever it was you broke through, I get it. If all this, us, went away tomorrow, at least I’d have these moments right now.”

  David put his arms around my shoulders. After a quick peck, he drew back and looked into my eyes. “When you actually talk to me, it helps me see why you’ve made certain decisions.”

  “I knew it was fucked up,” I whispered. “But I didn’t know how to change it. I didn’t know letting go could be so right. But seeing you in pain was far worse than my own pain.”

  “Fuck, but I was afraid I’d never get through.”

  I touched his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “Olivia,” he said, tucking my wet strands behind my ear, “promise me you won’t hide from me. I not only want to hear what you’re thinking, I have to. In order for us to be a team and move forward, you have to be forthcoming with me.” He smiled mischievously. “I
’m fascinated with your every move, and it scares me because I’ve never felt that way before.”

  “You get scared?”

  “Of course. The moment we made eye contact, I became vulnerable in a new way, too. I was scared the first time I kissed you at Lucy’s office—I thought I’d pushed you away. It scared me that you wanted to stay with Gretchen this week instead of me.” He frowned. “I get scared, too. Who says you won’t be the one to wake up one morning and leave?”

  “I won’t,” I promised.

  “Trust, baby. It’s all we’ve got.”

  “When did you get so smart?” I teased.

  “One more thing.”

  I swallowed nervously at the suddenly serious tone of his voice. “Yes?”

  “I meant what I said about being alone with Bill.” He cut me off when I started to protest. “I know he’s not a bad guy, and I don’t feel good about breaking his nose. But I won’t budge on this. I’m not happy that you went to see him by yourself. Especially in that dress. That was supposed to be for me, and I never want you out of my sight when you’re looking that fucking good.”

  “You liked the dress?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  I stuck out my bottom lip. “You didn’t like it?”

  Surrender crossed his face. “Of course I did. You were stunning. And those red lips . . . I kept imagining them wrapped around my—”

  “Room for one more?” I heard.

  I jerked away from David as my dad slid the back door closed and walked in our direction. With my hand over my mouth, I raised my eyebrows at David and laughed. “Come on in, Dad,” I called before ducking under the cold water.

  * * *

  Later, in the kitchen, showered and cleaned up, Dad searched for his car keys as I leaned my hip against the counter. “So, Dad . . . are you dating anyone?” I asked.

  “Sort of,” he muttered.

  Standing in the doorway, David raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Well, you either are or you aren’t,” I responded.

  “Yes, I am, do you mind?” my dad said.

  I suppressed a giggle and winked at David. “How old is she?” I asked.

  “Old enough.”

  Finally, I laughed, partly at David’s confused expression. “Gina was in her twenties when they got married,” I explained. When David nodded as though he found that impressive, I rolled my eyes.

  “All right,” Dad said, dangling his keys. “Last chance for grocery requests. I’m making leftovers from last night, but I have a few other things to grab.”

  I shrugged. “I think we’re good.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” my dad said, dropping a kiss on the top of my head on his way out.

  Once I heard the garage door shut, I looked at David, who was already staring at me. The space between us thickened with tension. I bit my lip, slunk toward him, and placed my hands on his pecs. “Alone at last,” I purred. “Should we head upstairs—”

  He backed away quickly. “No.”

  “What?” I gaped at him. “You’re kidding. I thought after the pool, you’d surely break.”

  “I want to, trust me,” he said, his eyes darting around as if we were being watched, “but it doesn’t feel right. Not in your dad’s house.”

  I groaned. “Take me to your hotel then.”

  “My God, woman,” he exclaimed. “Control yourself. Surely we can think of something else to do for an hour.”

  I frowned. “What do you suggest?”

  “Show me your bedroom.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I just want to see it. That’s all. Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Okay, but it’s boring,” I said. “We moved into this house when I was thirteen so it’s all teenage girl crap.” I motioned for him to follow me up the stairs. “Dad hasn’t done much with it since I left.”

  “That’s fine,” David said, and I could tell he was grinning. Maybe he thought he could use my adolescence as an opportunity to tease me. I opened the bedroom door, and he strolled inside with his hands in his jean pockets. He took a moment to assess the room before he said, “Looks pretty normal.”

  “Were you worried it wouldn’t be?”

  He chuckled. “No, not really.” He made a beeline for my bookshelf, picking up a framed photo of Gretchen and me in our high school cafeteria. We had huge, red-stained smiles plastered on our faces as we both held heart-shaped lollipops. He looked between the photo and me before shaking his head and setting it back down. “You are so fucking cute. I would have died over you in high school.”

  “Doubtful,” I said.

  “Are you kidding me?” He held up my prom photo, me in a champagne-colored polyester-spandex dress that grazed the floor. “You were a knockout.”

  I cringed. “I hate that one.”

  “Why?”

  “I look young and awkward.”

  “Hmm,” he mused. “That’s not what I see at all. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “That’s Gretchen’s older brother. You met him at Lucy’s wedding.”

  David pressed his lips together. “I didn’t realize . . . did you guys date?”

  I shook my head. “Jonathan was home from college, and he was one of my best friends.”

  “So you never . . .”

  “No, never,” I said. “He’s just a friend, but a really good one.”

  “Does he want more than that?”

  “I’ve never seen him that way,” I said.

  “That’s not a ‘no.’ But I like him,” David decided. “He has good taste, and he looks out for you. As long as it’s from a distance.”

  He put down the photo, drew my yearbook off a shelf, and flipped through it slowly. Watching him do anything was entertaining, I was discovering.

  “Just as I suspected,” he muttered, pointing to something on the page. “You were voted Best Eyes.”

  “It’s stupid,” I said, waving him off.

  “Is it?” He stared at me and I stared back, as mesmerized now as I’d been that first night I’d seen him. What magic did his gaze have over me?

  As it occurred to me, I cocked my head. “You, too?” I asked. “Best Eyes?”

  He smiled slowly. “Yeah.”

  I told myself it was a silly coincidence, but something sweet passed between us. He broke the stare and flipped through a few more pages before replacing the yearbook on the shelf. I sat on the edge of my bed and observed as he looked through everything, stopping now and then to read the title of a book or DVD.

  After a few minutes, he came to sit next to me. “It’s nice being here,” he said. “I get to see a different part of you.”

  “And do you like what you see?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

  His eyes moved to my lips, and a grunt was his non-response.

  “I’m not supposed to have boys in my bed,” I whispered. Before he could stop me, I threw a leg over him and settled astride his lap. “My dad would flip out.”

  David took two handfuls of my ass and squeezed, pulling me against his crotch.

  “You’re hard,” I murmured, my mind buzzing, my insides thrilling. He skated one hand up my back and stilled me by the nape of my neck. He held me in place as he latched his lips to mine in a sensual kiss that quickly turned hard and greedy. His tongue reached for me hungrily as his hand secured me to him. I gyrated in his lap, and he flexed his other hand against my ass.

  “Lose your virginity here?” he rasped.

  “College,” I breathed and then kissed him again. “You?” I asked into his mouth.

  “Sixteen.”

  “Head cheerleader?” I pushed my hips into him, creating a slow but purposeful rhythm.

  “Something like that,” he said from behind gritted teeth. “You?”

  “Jordan Banks, my,” my breath hitched when he pulled me against him harder, “my first true boyfriend.”

  “I’ll kill him,” David said, and the playfulness in his thre
at made me laugh.

  He flipped me over onto my back and grasped my hips in his hands. My legs surrounded him as he continued his deliberate movements, his crown grinding against my clit.

  “You’re . . . making me . . . come,” I breathed, gasping with each acute sensation.

  With one hand, he popped open the button of my jeans and pushed my pants over my ass. He propped himself above me with an outstretched arm. “Touch yourself in this bed?” he asked. He bypassed my pants to continue his sinuous teasing against my panties.

  “Yes,” I whimpered.

  “Show me.”

  I hesitated, lost in the sensations singing through my body. He grasped my hand, lowered it between my legs, and clamped it over my mound, circling my fingers over my clit.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned, bowing my back. “Right there.”

  “Don’t stop,” he said gruffly as he removed his hand to undo his fly. I massaged myself and watched his cock fall heavy into his hand. His lids lowered as he stroked himself, never taking his eyes off my hand.

  He groaned loudly. “I could come just watching you.”

  I urged him forward by pushing my heels into his ass. “I want you, David.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “We can’t.”

  I kneaded faster over my underwear, squirming beneath him and breathing heavily. “Please,” I panted. I reached out to touch him, and his other hand fisted the sheets next to my head. Suddenly, he tore my jeans off the rest of the way, yanked my panties aside, and fed himself into me.

  He made a noise from the back of his throat, and his eyes remained locked on my hand. “Don’t stop touching yourself,” he rasped, sliding in and out of me. He grasped my hip in one hand and continued bracing himself against the bed with the other. I applied more pressure and circled faster, bringing myself to the edge as he thrust into me. Within a few plunges he was coming with his jaw clenched, clawing at the sheets, jerking as his heat coursed into me. I grabbed onto his t-shirt as my own pleasure crested, seizing and releasing me repeatedly, arching my back and bucking my hips. When I finished, I released my back onto the mattress and let go of his shirt.