Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

“Perfect?” he asked with an arched black eyebrow.

“Perfect,” I repeated because I meant it. “Thank you.”

He came into the room and stepped around me, pulling the chair out from under the desk. He sat down and rolled closer before gesturing that I should sit in his lap.

I obeyed cautiously while holding my robe closed, unsure of his mood. His fingers grazed against my neck as he swept my hair away, and his chin hovered over my shoulder. “See this here?” he asked into my ear, pointing to the bedroom.

I nodded.

“I’m picturing a bathroom like the one in this apartment but even bigger. We can put in a gigantic shower, and then over here, a clawfoot tub.”

“I like those,” I said.

“I thought you might. That would mean losing a little space in the bedroom, especially if you want a walk-in closet.”

“I do.”

“I thought you might.”

I smiled to myself as he laid out the rest of the bedroom. Sliding his fingers down the hallway, he explained that he’d need one room for his office, that way he could work from home more often.

Across the way was a room that had noticeably fewer notes. He lingered there a moment before speaking. “This is a free room, unless you have any ideas. I suppose maybe a guest room would be a good idea. At first anyway.”

I didn’t tense despite my body’s impulse to. He would notice, and I couldn’t have that. Not after we’d gotten this far and hadn’t even had a chance to really enjoy each other yet. Because his implication was clear. I didn’t know how a discussion about children would go, but, I thought fleetingly, it was the only thing left that had the power to destroy us.

“It’s not a huge house,” he continued, “so as time goes by, we may want to . . . add. I’ve taken this into consideration, and we’ll have the ability when it comes to that. Unless you want to do it now.”

My heart pulled, and I shook my head quickly. Add? Exactly how much does he want to ‘add’?

He proceeded through the remainder of the house, describing his ideas and what they would entail. I was confronted with the immensity of the project, from replacing the plumbing system to reroofing, retiling, repainting . . . I sighed at the fact that he was doing this, essentially, for me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently, raking his fingers through my hair to tuck it behind my ear.

“It’s absolutely perfect. But it’s a lot of work, David. And money.”

He was quiet as he continued to pet me. I closed my eyes, succumbing to the power of his hands on me. “I always knew I wanted to be an architect,” he said. “I was lucky, I guess. I never even considered anything else . . . I don’t know why. It felt like my calling. It has given me a lot – purpose, gratification, wealth. It’s hard work, but it’s also my hobby. And you are my passion. I want to do this for you. I need to.”

“I love you,” I whispered, leaning back against him with my eyes still closed. His now smooth cheek passed against mine. His hands came around the front of my slinky robe, passing over my breasts and hugging me close. He pressed his lips into my cheek, remaining there as my body responded to his touch. Desire, already simmering at the surface, blossomed deep inside of me.

“I have to leave,” he said without letting go.

I groaned and wrapped my arms over his.

“Do you want to take one of the cars to work?” he asked.

“You’d let me?”

“Yes, but you hurt it, there’ll be consequences.”

Though I didn’t think I’d mind the consequences, I only laughed and said, “I’ll take the train.”

“I have a really full day, but we still need to talk about getting your stuff tonight.”

“Okay,” I sighed softly.

“Can you come to my office on your lunch break? I’ll have something delivered.”

“Yes.”

“All right, up you go,” he said, lifting me off his lap and setting me on my feet.

“Are we going to fight?” I asked.

“I hope not, baby. I don’t like when we do.”

“Me neither.” I placed my hands on his chest and rose up for a kiss. “

Have a good morning.”

“I already am,” he said. “See you in a few hours.”

~

As the elevator at Pierson/Greer ascended, I tapped my foot and thought about what was to come. I was unsettled over the previous night’s fight and wasn’t looking forward to rehashing it. In the office, I met a new receptionist. She was pretty and on the younger side, but I quickly checked my tinge of jealousy when I noticed how nervous she was. It was obvious that I intimidated her, likely because David himself was so intimidating.

I gave her my coat, and she showed me into David’s empty office. Back in his bubble, I relaxed. I wandered around the room, picking up a photo of him with his family. I was surprised at the surge of affection I felt just looking at them, even though I’d only met them twice. I’d never had those warm feelings toward Bill’s stoic family – nothing remotely close, actually.

I heard David send the receptionist out for lunch before striding into the office and shutting the door behind him. Earlier I’d noticed how his royal blue shirt set off his dark features, but now I had the urge to jump into his arms and beg him to take me. My anger and arousal were commingling, becoming one and the same.

My unsettled feeling returned however when I noticed he seemed edgy; a dark, brooding cloud entering my hemisphere. “I don’t have much time so I just grabbed Mexican from downstairs,” he said, setting a full plastic bag on his desk.

“I’m not hungry.”

The look on his face indicated the scolding to come, but I was saved by the ringing of his desk phone. He whipped off his jacket and threw it over the couch. “One minute.” I watched him round the desk and fall into his chair, leaning back as he answered the phone. “Dylan. Yes.” His eyebrows knit. “Yes.”

One thing I’d not yet gotten was my businessman David. I’d been thrumming all morning, and quite often over the past few months, I’d yearned to see what was underneath David’s perfectly-tailored suits. I strolled over to his chair and before he even looked up, dropped to my knees between his legs. The leather chair groaned as he sat forward suddenly.