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He nodded at me and then smiled at the doorman as we took the elevator upstairs. We didn’t talk on the ride up. I had too much to say and I could tell that Mac was too nervous to make small talk. He let me go in front of him as we walked into his place.
I had been there a few times and had been impressed with how quaint yet spacious it was. He could have afforded an entire townhouse if he wanted, even bought an apartment building, but he hadn’t. Instead, he had a lovely four-bedroom apartment that took up one half of the floor.
The place was decorated in muted browns and blues, giving it a homey yet masculine feel. The living room and kitchen took up a good portion of the space with its open-air concept and view of Central Park. We sat on his balcony one night and enjoyed some pizza and wine while we watched the sun set over the city and the park. As we had, I could see why he wanted to live there and it made me jealous that he did.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Mac asked after we had walked into his apartment.
“No. I’m good.”
I walked into his living room and turned as he did the same. I could see he was nervous. He wasn’t sure why I was there. I could tell by the look on his face, he was worried I was there to break up with him.
“You love me,” I said. It was a statement not a question.
All things considered, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to just blurt it out, but it was all that I could think about. It was the only thing I could focus on and the only thing I wanted to discuss.
Mac looked me directly in the eye for a moment. I could see his internal struggle as he tried to understand what I wanted him to say and what he should say. I knew the moment he made his decision when he straightened his shoulders and said, “Yes. I do.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” I exclaimed and smiled at him.
He gave me a look as if he couldn’t believe what I had said.
“I didn’t think you were ready to hear it. We had just started dating and sleeping together. I didn’t want to scare you away. I did by saying I would go to Berlin with you. I’m sorry about that. I never should have taken the decision from you or assumed you would want me there. It was wrong of me to put that much pressure on you.”
“It wasn’t you that was the problem with Berlin. It wasn’t even me. It was Berlin,” I stated.
“What do you mean?”
“When you came over and told me that you wanted to go to Berlin with me, I hadn’t decided if I wanted to go. My family thought I should, Morgan too, even my dean and former students. Everyone thought it was a great idea, but I just couldn’t get excited about it, and I didn’t know why. I was trying to figure it out and if I even wanted to tell you when you came in and said everything that everyone else did. I thought if anyone understood or would have helped me make a decision it was you. When you did what everyone else had, it pissed me off and I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.
“I didn’t know if I didn’t want to go to Berlin because of you, because of us, or what. I was so happy with what we had, and I didn’t want to lose it. I wasn’t sure how that would change if I went to Berlin, and while I was flattered you wanted to go with me, I didn’t want that responsibility, that burden that we had to make it, because you had given up so much for me. It was too much to handle with everything else that I was trying to figure out.
“Which was why I said the one thing I shouldn’t have and pushed you away. I never meant to do that. I thought I was protecting you and myself. I didn’t want you to upend your life for me, especially when I wasn’t sure I wanted to be there. I needed to find out if my lack of interest in going to Berlin had to do with you and us, or it was just me.
“With you out of the equation, so to speak. I got to really think about me and what I wanted to do, and I realized, I don’t want to go. I still want to write my book, but I can do that without the fellowship. I like being in New York and I can’t imagine being gone for a whole year. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I can go and visit and see the sights and talk to people that I need to, in small doses. I don’t need or want the fellowship to do that.
“My sister is pregnant again and I want to be here for her and her family. I want to be around for the birth and to help with babysitting. I want to help Morgan with her wedding when Walker proposes, and we both know that’s going to happen soon. I want to plan her shower and all that is involved in that. I can’t do any of that if I’m not here.
“Knowing that allowed me to see that you weren’t a factor in me not going to Berlin, but I want you to be a factor in my life going forward. It helped me to see that if I had wanted to go to Berlin, I would have wanted you to come along because knowing you love me changed everything. Including helping me to see that I love you too,” I said.
I knew it was a lot for him to take in and I was doing the exact thing I hadn't wanted him to do to me, but I had to tell him. He needed to know and then he could decide how he wanted to move forward. I worried I had said too much, that I had lost him, and he was too upset with me about kicking him out of my apartment to want to give me a second chance. I held my breath as I waited for him to say something.
“God, I missed you,” he said.
In those four words, I knew I hadn’t lost him. I had been so worried I had. Knowing I was in love with him was one thing. Knowing that he loved me enough to take me back after I threw him out was another. I knew in those words there could still be a chance for us, and I wanted it. I wanted it all with him. We had a lot to discuss but first, I needed to touch him and feel him inside me as we became one.
“I missed you too,” I said and kissed him.
He kissed me back with abandonment, as if it had been years and not just a few days that we had been apart. I had missed him, I knew I had, but I hadn’t realized just how much until he was kissing me. I was frantic for him, for us. My hands roamed over his body, desperate to touch every part of him, to reassure myself that he was really there.
My hands went to his pants. I quickly undid them, pushing them down and taking his member in my hands. I tugged on it, loving how he grew hard as I stroked him. Mac groaned and practically tore off my dress. He made quick work of taking off my bra and sliding my panties to the floor. I stepped out of them, my hands barely leaving him while I did.
His hands ran down my stomach and to my thighs. He teased his fingers over my entrance, and I wanted to cry in happiness and frustration. I loved that he was touching me, but he wasn’t touching me enough. My hand tugged on him harder and faster, letting my frustration and my need show in my actions.
“Damn, Hope. I missed you so much. I need you,” he said as he brought his mouth back to mine.
His need to have me and just how much he had missed me was evident as he kissed me with an intense fierceness, almost a desperation I had never felt in him before.
His left hand went to my breast, teasing, squeezing, massaging and making my nipple go to rock-hard peak. His mouth and tongue were everywhere as he kissed and licked and sucked his way down my neck and to my breasts. I clung to him, my hips moving over him, my juices mixing with his. His finger plunged inside me as his thumb teased my clit. I quivered next to him, my release just out of reach.
