It’s ecstasy.
A bolt of lightning.
The pinnacle.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers against my lips. “If I died now, I’d die knowing you were the best part of my life.”
I shake my head. “Don’t talk like that.”
He continues to sink into me, over and over. “You were the first to believe in me. I’ll spend my life showing you how much that means to me … worshipping you.”
He penetrates deeper.
I scream.
He sits back on his knees, not breaking rhythm. “On your hands and knees.”
With the little energy I have left, I comply. He holds my hips, pounding in then slowly pulling back out. In. Out. Deeper. Harder. I’ve never experienced sex like this before. Love, lust and affection … it’s all there.
He fists my hair, wrapping it around his hand. The sensation sends shockwaves between my legs. It’s not long before my body is squeezing around his again. This time, he follows my lead, pulsing inside me as his fingers dig into my hips.
“So good. So fucking good,” he moans, a faint comparison to the screams I can’t control.
I fall onto my stomach, my knees too weak to hold me up. His body covers mine. Our heavy breaths mix, saying everything we can’t. Sweat drenches our skin, gluing us together. Even with the exhaustion, I’d do it all over again. It’s worth it. He’s worth it.
“How was that?” he asks, kissing the center of my back.
“I loved every second of it,” I say honestly. I can’t say those three words, but I can hint at them. “I don’t know if it beats lemon drops and paint, though.”
“I need to be your only one.”
“You are,” I promise, finding his hand beside me to kiss his knuckles.
He slips out of me, lying at my side. He’s the only person I look at and see sorrow and satisfaction at the same time.
“But he’s still in your heart. The heart doesn’t forget so easily; I know that much.”
“Our hearts weren’t made to hold one person. They were made to love many with a special place for the one we love the most.”
Silence falls between us. The L word seems to do that. “I can’t say it,” he finally admits. “The night I left—when I said it—I mean it, but I’ve only spoken those words to one other person and she’s gone now. I don’t want to lose you too.”
“Love isn’t a curse.”
“It’s a superstition.”
I run my fingers along his spine as my eyes fill with tears I refuse to shed. Sadness overtakes me because of everything this man has gone through. Anger spills over because that everything may keep us from being us. I want to heal him until he believes in happiness again … until love isn’t a curse or superstition.
“She didn’t do what she did because she thought you didn’t love her enough. Sometimes, our demons are too powerful. They speak louder than the deepest of loves can cure. There wasn’t anything you could have done to defeat them.”
He smiles sadly. “My therapist tells me that all the time, but you have a better way of saying it.”
“What’s it going to take before you believe it?”
“Time.”
I press my lips to his. I can deal with that as long as time doesn’t turn into forever. Our future depends on it.
He combs his fingers through my hair, letting it fall back on his sheets. My eyelids are heavy, slowly drifting shut.
“You’re special,” he whispers. “You’re the first one who’s made me want to try. For the first time in years, I’m thinking of what I have instead of what’s already gone.”
Those are the words I fall asleep to.
THINGS ARE GOOD FOR THE next week. We fall into this pattern. I work. He cooks. We make love. The last part differs; he’s had me against the wall before dinner, on the counter after, the shower, the couch, my bed, his. The apartment has been thoroughly christened.
Today is the start of a new week. Pierce is back in town, and I only have a couple weeks left before the new mood board is due to Wade.
Last week was a game of pretend, but this is reality.
Taking a deep breath, I step off the elevator, smoothing my blouse to make sure it’s still tucked in. This is one of those days I hope Reece is at my desk waiting for me so Pierce has reason not to be.
A pit forms in my stomach when she’s not. I set my stuff down and begin putting the final touches on my board. Seeing his apartment when we were in New York gave me a better idea of what he would favor if he booked a penthouse suite; they always say you should please your audience.
“Wow. That looks great.”
I glance up from my desk to see Reece, staring down at me wearing a white blouse with black printed skunks. I’ve really seen it all now. “My fingers are going to bleed I’ve been coloring so much.”
She lifts a brow. “You know they have computer programs for that these days.”
“That’s no fun.”
“I saw Pierce this morning. The coffee pot was empty, so he took the whole damn thing and threw it in the trash. A perfectly good coffee pot.”
Grabbing a pencil off my desk, I focus back on my drawing. “Doesn’t Jane get his coffee?” I didn’t even think he knew where the break room was.
“I have no idea, but she was in the file room crying this morning.”
Her words crush my conscience. Pierce is as even tempered as they come. He keeps control by showing all of us that forward is the only way to go. That keeping our emotion out of our work is the only way to succeed. You can’t dwell over failures, or hold onto wins.
“Maybe you should go check on him,” she says when I don’t ask any more.
I throw the pencil down. “I can’t, Reece. Am I the reason for his bad mood? Probably. Is it going to get any better if I go waltzing into his office? Probably not.”
“You’re stubborn.”
Glaring up at her, I say, “I’m sane.”
“Do you have lunch plans today?” she asks, ignoring the fact that I’m annoyed.
“Blake is going to be in the area, so he’s taking me out.”
Her mouth forms an “O”. “So,” she drags the word out like it actually means something. “The first day your ex comes back to the office, your current squeeze is coming to take you to lunch. Not so much of a coincidence if you ask me.”
“It is a coincidence.”
She turns to walk away. “Whatever you say. By the way, when you get a minute, come find me. I want to show you someone in IT.”
I shake my head. I can’t imagine what her latest prospect looks like.
Focusing on my drawing, I try to finish the last bits and pieces. A dark cloud blocks my creativity because all I can think about is Pierce. What’s going through his head after we spent several days apart? I want to think it’s a failed business deal that put him in this mood, but I know better than that.
In the span of an hour, I shade in one tiny section only to erase it. I stare at it, but my focus is elsewhere.
After two hours of nothing, I pick the board up from my desk and head down the hallway. Jane isn’t at her desk, so I keep walking, taking my chances that Pierce isn’t in a meeting or on a call.
I tap on his closed door twice, waiting for an answer. When one doesn’t come, I try once more.
“Come in,” he says in an annoyed tone.
I turn the knob slowly, making sure the door closes behind me. His eyes are locked on his computer, but I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that it’s me. I know Pierce Stanley.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Fields?” He still hasn’t looked up.
“I wanted to show you the progress I made last week. See if you had any ideas on how to finish the top floor.”
“Schedule something with Jane, and we’ll talk about it later this week.”
My frustration grows with every second he won’t look at me. “She’s not at her desk.”
“Send her an email. You know how to use it, right?”
I bite down on my lower lip to keep myself from breaking down in tears. He was the first person I met in Chicago. He helped me through some of the worst times. And, I repaid him by letting him down in the worst possible way.