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My lashes lower, fanning across my cheek, as I try to remain in control. Simmer down. But thinking of his lips and the way they lock on mine. The taste of his mouth. The way I could press his back to the wall and press my body against him. The thought of that hot kiss is all consuming. There’s no part of me that doesn’t respond when he’s this close, a breath away. The steady pounding of my heart increases as my body heats. What would I do to him? If he was truly vulnerable, unable to escape—is that really appealing to me?
When I spit out the words, I’m almost laughing at the absurdity of my statement. “I’m not a dominatrix.”
“No one is asking you to be.” His voice is deep, rich, and utterly sincere. He wants to set me free. I feel it. The way he watches me, the way his eyes bore into me, makes that truth undeniable.
Something deep within my soul calls out to him on a feral level and it scares me. No, it’s more than fear. It’s terrifying. The thought steals my breath and sends shivers down my spine. I don’t know what to do with that rough craving and never have—so I pretended it wasn’t there. But standing here now, knowing he won’t judge me for it, realizing he wants this part of me. It changes things.
If I believe him. Why is it so hard to accept the truth? Why do I assume everyone prefers lies and pretty words? Especially Sean. That man has never been about sugary words. His bluntness could make me bleed if he chose to unleash his tongue in that manner on me. But he’s not. Not now. Not with this. His eyes haven’t left my face. The way he searches me, as if he can see through my skin and into my heart still haunts me. I don’t look in those places. I can’t accept this, so how can he?
That’s when I suck in a jagged breath and push past him. I pad over to the table and sit. Sometimes there are no words. But it’s my fault this go. Hiding my eyes from him creates a barrier between us. It’s wafer-thin, but it’s better than his soul-searching stare. I lift my glass and tip back the rest of my cider.
Sean’s eyes are on me, but he doesn’t say anything. After a few beats, he turns away and walks down the hall. The sound of the shower turning on follows a few moments later.
The tightness around my heart eases and I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.
CHAPTER 8
The next morning, neither of us mentions the night before, the confession I almost made. I can’t tell if Sean is disappointed or relieved. I’m sitting on the couch in fugly maternity PJs that I thought would look cute, but they just make me feel lost. Pursing my lips, I blow gently on the cup of tea in my hands. The glass is hot and warms my cold fingers. A drape of dark hair falls over my shoulder as I tip my head and look out at the rising city. Amber light spills from the horizon as the sun slowly climbs into the sky. The light slips over the murky darkness littered with lights, casting the city in a heavenly glow.
Sleep was evasive last night. I finally gave up and let Sean have the bed to himself about an hour ago. He didn’t follow me. It’s almost like he’s giving me space, time away that I didn’t ask for—I’m not sure I need it. He’s annoyingly astute at times. Like with the maternity clothes and the inky part of me that’s sucking the glitter out of my veins.
Maybe I don’t want to admit that part of me is gone. The piggy kite and the girl laughing on the beach. The girl who wore no coat to let the cold seep in because she wanted to feel something. Now I feel so much I’m trying to block it out. I don’t know how to experience this. My life took a weird turn, one I never saw coming. And instead of riding the storm through to the other side, the line to my dingy snapped and I flew out to sea.
Putting my lips to the rim of the mug, I take a sip and savor the heat that runs down my throat. An image of Sean in the shower, of his bottles of body wash, of the things we did—how he tastes—rushes me all at once. I swat at the memories, trying to push them away. The tank. The box. The fear that I once felt has been replaced with something else. I can’t tell if it’s curiosity or retribution. I’m angry. I know that, but is it that simple? That my dark desires are just because I want payback for a life I can’t control? For the times when Sean stole bits of freedom.
Something in my mind snaps at me, denying that, knowing those thoughts aren’t true. I want what I want. While rage and anger may be part of it, those feelings aren’t because of Sean. So, I shouldn’t aim my fury at him. Right?
Sighing, I put my mug on the coffee table in front of me and bury my face in my hands. My hair falls around my face, hiding me from the world. What’s my problem? I’ve already done dark sexual acts with him. Why is it so hard to admit it’s me initiating things this time? That I want to control him in bed. That I want the pain and pleasure mix right now. When did Sean turn into a ray of sunshine? It’s almost as if we flipped roles in this relationship.
“I didn’t hear you leave.” Sean’s voice is behind me, still addled with sleep.
Startled because I’m too lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize he’s there until he speaks. At the sound of his voice, my heart jumps into my throat. My hand flies to my chest as I suck in air. Glancing at him through the wall of hair, I laughingly scold, “You’re a goddamn cat, sometimes.”
Sean sits down hard on the couch next to me. His hair is tousled and his eyes are still heavy with sleep. There’s a toddler-esque lostness on his face this early in the morning that I rarely get to see. I wonder if the babies inside me will be wide awake like me in the mornings or take a bit to shake off sleep the way Sean does.
A crooked smile spills across his lips, as he reaches for my tea. His eyes are looking out at the city, as he says in a deep husky voice, “Meow.”
A snort escapes me. It’s so unexpected that a blaring chortle follows. A smile drips from my lips and fades as fast as it appeared. “I don’t know how you do that.”
Sean lifts a dark brow as he swallows the tea. His lip curls at the taste before he sets it down again. “I think we need to do something different today.”
Sean never drinks tea. Like ever. It was odd he picked it up. “Yeah? Like drink tea or did you think that was coffee?”
He inhales slowly and turns those sapphire eyes my way. A thrill bursts inside of me when he looks at me like that, as if I’m a goddess and he can’t look away from me. I shove his shoulder and tuck wayward curls behind my ear. “Stop it.”
“What?” He smiles back as if he’s not looking at me with sex on his mind. “I’m just wondering why you’re dressed all cute instead of wearing the black lace you got from Bella.” He yawns and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him.
“There’s a practical issue with some of the pajamas.”
“Really? Like what?”
Resting my head against his shoulder, I breathe him in. “It’s hard to stay cool in leather. I’m always cold, but at night, I’ve been too hot lately.”
“Mmmm. It’s because you’re lying next to me.” His fingers stroke my hair as I feel a grin lift his cheeks.
“Oh, hot damn. Call the fireman.” My voice is light and teasing.
Sean snorts, and asks me, “Really? You like that song?” He lifts his head and examines me as if the awful truth of falling prey to catchy pop music will be the end of us.
“You listen to the Spice Girls when no one is around, so don’t judge.”
He nods slowly, not denying it. His face is placid, eyes still sleepy when he says, “So tell me what you want, what you really, really want.”
I can’t help it. I laugh so hard that the joy of the moment shoots through my entire body, rocking me forward and out of his embrace. As I bust a rib laughing, he sits there, serene. He reaches for me, pushes my hair over my shoulder so the tangle of curls rests on my back.
When I finally stop choking on laughter, I glance over at him, but the giggles take hold. Every time I think of it, I start laughing again.
Sean’s voice is flat, deadpan. “If I knew you’d be so responsive to my singing, I would have made more of an effort ages ago.”
I fall backward, into him, allo
wing his arms to envelope me. His warmth surrounds me and, in that moment, I’m not torn, worried, or lost. I’m Avery and he’s Sean. And that’s enough. A calm settles over us as we cuddle and watch the city come alive on the streets below.
“I love this view.” I’m thinking of watching the seasons change from this window. The contrast between black pavement and nature contained to the park across the way is alluring. Asphalt and flowers living side by side, in a weird juxtaposed harmony. There will be flames of orange and crimson on the trees come Autumn. A Christmas tree with twinkling lights in the winter will block the statute of the man on the horse at the park’s entrance. Followed by pink blossoms on cherry trees in the spring. Come summer, everything will be lush and green.
“So do I.” Sean rest’s his head on top of mine. He’d been looking at me. His gaze slides over my body, the curves that grow more pronounced every day.
At times I wonder if he’s afraid. He lived through this part of marriage and pregnancy before. My mood swings must be worrisome for him but he never says anything.
It’s as if he reads my mind because he says softly, “This is my favorite time of day. It’s filled with promise and the newness of life. Even in the winter when everything is stripped clean and there’s not a spot of green to be seen. The way the light flows over the buildings, down the streets, and into the park…” his voice trails off and he shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s just something about it.”
