Come Together (42 page)

“Turn over,” I whispered after a while. I lifted onto my knees to allow him to flip onto his back. When I settled myself against him, we both inhaled and 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, his eyes were closed peacefully.

I was aware the moment he hardened under me. I was already wet against his underwear, had been for a while and was further aroused 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 are unreal
, I thought as I looked at him.
What if this has all been a beautiful dream? And one of us will wake up too soon . . . .

A tear fell onto his stomach, but 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 convulsed.

With his eyes still closed, he sighed heavily and ran his hands over the outsides of my thighs. My hand skated up his stomach and then down again, reaching slightly further under his waistband. He inhaled slowly but loudly and coaxed my hips over him, back and forth.

When his eyes opened, they were hungry, and he slipped his hand in my robe. It grazed over my breast and upward until he cupped my jaw. “You look like an angel,” he whispered. He pulled me down, and I curved my body to meet his lips. “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, my David,” I uttered involuntarily.

“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.” His teeth were gritted, I could hear, 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 onto 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, and I knew 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 and made my way down to his neck where I rested my forehead against the pillow.

“Olivia,” he whispered hotly.

I didn’t move, unable to face him.

“Hey,” he said, pushing me off of his torso gently. “What happened?”

I looked at his pecs, because I had no response.

He sat up, still inside of me, and gripped my face. “What happened? Why didn’t you come?”

I shrugged and shook my head but kept my eyes downcast. How could I look him in the eye now? What would I say? “I love you,” I whispered.

He ran his hands over my body, feeling my back, my arms, my neck, my scar. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I nodded.

“Did I do something?”

My eyes flicked up to his finally, and I shook my head hard. “No,” I said. “Nothing. You’re perfect.”

“It was the proposal,” he said and pressed his lips together. “I scared you.”

“I’m scared,” I admitted with a nod.

“So talk to me then. Tell me what scares you, and I’ll fix it.”

I laughed softly. “My superhero.”

He took my jaw in both his hands. “Tell me.”

I looked down at my hands and body, covered in oil. “I just want to rinse off and then I’ll tell you everything,” I said. I crawled off the bed and because I wanted to spare him from what I was about to do, I added, “Just give me a few minutes alone.”

I closed the bathroom door and steadied myself against the counter for a moment. I looked into the mirror, knowing that this could change everything. But I also had a strange, fleeting moment of extreme peace when I thought about how completely I loved him.

CHAPTER 27

I TURNED THE HEAT UP HIGH and let the water soak me. I absentmindedly wiped oil from my hands until I could no longer hold it in. I sank to the ground, folded my arms over my knees and let everything out. Under the beating water, it all rushed out through hot tears – Bill’s harsh words from our last meeting, all the fears I still had and the ones I’d already conquered, my mother’s disappointment that was always in the back of my mind and of course, the possibility of losing David now.

And my heart leaked through my eyes.
How could I possibly break everything we had built, everything we had fought for?
Were things meant to end this way, with me on the shower floor, watching everything swirl down the drain? I heard the door open, but I couldn’t face him; not even when he crouched down next to me and ran his hand over the hair plastered to my back. My sobs redoubled at his touch, and I curled deeper into myself. Despite the burning of my eyes and the trembling of my body, his touch was soothing, and he remained there, petting me until I finished.

“I’m sorry,” I said into my knees.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

I looked up finally. It was with wonder that I stared at him in his soaking wet boxer briefs, and at the same moment, sadness crossed his face.

“I should never have let things get this far. I’m so sorry,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath.

He rose and turned off the water before stepping out of the shower. I stood gingerly, 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 would change my mind. I thought being with you would change everything, but . . . it hasn’t. I still feel the same.”

“I don’t understand, Olivia,” he said, touching my jaw. His thumb rubbed over my cheek tenderly.

I took a deep breath, thankful that there were no tears left in me. Then I said it. “I don’t want children.”

I watched his hand withdraw immediately, and then I blinked to his expressionless face. I tried desperately to read his reaction, but he gave nothing away. When he didn’t respond, I continued. “I’ve seen you with Alex. I know you’ll be an incredible father. I know that’s what you want. 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.

He looked away and focused on the tiled wall. I was grateful, because 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 nodded, stood from the perch and walked to the bed. I slid between the sheets and covered my face with my hands.

~

“Olivia.”

I opened my eyes to a dark room. My towel was wrapped under my armpits, and my pillow was damp. I sat up slowly, trying to orient myself.

There was a movement next to the bed, and David’s figure sharpened in the dark. He leaned forward, and the bedside lamp turned on.

“What time is it?” I mumbled.

“Three in the morning.”

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

“No. I’ve been downstairs thinking.” I noticed a towel in his hands as he climbed in bed behind me. He straddled me and ran the towel through my hair, scrubbing lightly. “What did I tell you about going to bed with wet hair?” he admonished quietly.

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

He continued to pat my hair tenderly and when it was as dry as possible, he threw the towel and my pillow on the floor. He instructed me to turn and face him and when I did, my shoulders slumped forward. “Do you want children?” I asked.

“I always imagined I would have them. I haven’t thought much about it lately. I assumed it was what you wanted and so . . . I thought it was what I wanted too.”

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 think it’s best if I give you space right now.”

He was quiet as he sat cross-legged before me in his plaid pajama pants. “What do you mean?”

“You need to take time away from me to process this.”

“Don’t tell me what I need.”

I looked up. “But you should.”

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

“There’s no answer, David. I could never take fatherhood from you.”

“I can make my own decisions.”

“I know you can.”

He shook his head and looked away. “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 this. It sounds like you want me to leave you.”

“Of course I don’t want that,” I said 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.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot, and I have some questions.”

“Okay.” I dipped my head into a nod.

“Why don’t you want children?”

“I don’t have the desire. I can’t see it in my future, and if I can’t see it with you, I know I never will.”

“Can you see me in your future?”

“Yes,” I said emphatically. “You’re all I see.”

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

I sighed. “Bill said the same thing.”

“Because you aren’t her. You would make a phenomenal mom. You are 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 was I the cold and heartless monster Bill had accused me of being? Could I be warm, loving and selfless and still not want children? With soft determination, I said, “You’re right. I’m not her. I would never be the type of parent she was.”

“So it’s not that you’re afraid of turning out like her?”

I shook my head.

“Explain something to me,” he said. “Why was it so hard to let yourself go with me?”

“I was afraid once I let myself love you, I would lose you,” I said right away. “And I didn’t think I could handle it.”

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

“It does scare me. That I would be responsible for this being, and there would be no second chances, no room for mistakes.”

“All parents make mistakes. Jessa does all the time.”

I smiled. “I know. But it’s more than that. My instinct says it’s not the path for me, and I know what you say about instincts . . . .”

He nodded.

“But, David, if the alternative is losing you . . .” I searched his eyes, the eyes that had the ability to melt away all my fears and doubts. “I could do it,” I whispered.

“I would never let you do that for me.”

“I know.”

“Fuck,” he said, dropping his head in his hands. “I never gave it much thought, but I always thought I would have kids.”

“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. “But I want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything about the decisions I’ve made. I would leave my life behind all over again for the short time we’ve had together.”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “You don’t think I’d give up that easily, do you? Give me some fucking credit.”

“You have to give up,” I said, withdrawing my hand. More tears spilled from my eyes when I said, “The sooner we end this, the better.”

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

“No! Of course that’s not what I want!” I sobbed. “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 dance flamenco and write my book, but this is real life, David! This is not a dream or a fantasy! What choice do we have?”