As hard as I tried, I could not remember what he looked like. I could only feel him. I forced myself to focus on the second half. A bewitching Odette mournfully enthralled the crowd as her story unfolded. Why did it feel as though she watched me between sequences? Back in the lobby, I scanned the crowd for clues. That man, who he was. To both my relief and disappointment, I did not see him again. I tried to forget the feeling while we dined and drank into the night.
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The heavy door of our Lincoln Park apartment threatened to slam behind me, but at the last second, I caught the knob and eased it shut. I yawned, hanging my coat and sliding out of my pumps. Bill flipped on the television set in the next room while I sorted through mail, tossing half of it into the trash. Three glasses of red wine coursed through my veins.
I stripped off my emerald dress in one sinuous motion and let it drop onto the floor. Hi, I said in my sultriest voice. His hand righted a stray strand of hair as he glanced between the screen and me. I wet my lips and kissed him full on the mouth. His eyebrow rose, and his mouth popped open as if connected by an invisible string. He looked about to protest and then relaxed as he thought better of it. In an uncharacteristically graceful motion he stood. With my body secured to his, he carried me to the mattress. Fingertips tenderly caressed the outsides of my thighs as he hovered over me.
Shit, I said, just as his face dipped. I sat up in a panic. I forgot to pick up condoms. I slid out from underneath him and shuffled to the kitchen. I rifled through the cluttered drawer until I found one in the back.
Come Undone: The Cityscape Series, Book 1 (Unabridged)
Liv, he called impatiently. I checked the expiration date and ran back, jumping onto the bed. Frown lines faded as he propped himself up on long, wiry arms. I touched his pecs, trailing my fingers down to a soft midsection while goose bumps sprang to attention across his skin. My, my, Mrs. Wilson, he said. What big green eyes you have, he continued, touching his lips just above my cheekbone. And such pretty blonde hair, he added, brushing a lock from my forehead.
His hips ground against me in anticipation. I reached up and ran my hand through his floppy brown hair, cocking my head to the side. You must be colorblind. I see some blonde strands in there. Agree to disagree, then. He smiled. It creased his adorably crooked nose.
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He unhooked my bra swiftly, gently cupping my breasts in each of his hands. His fingers were long.
From the living room, the unmistakable sounds of a heated basketball game blared from the television. The motions were familiar. His touch had become defter, more confident, over time. And his usually awkward nature became more fluid. He groaned my name as he pushed himself into me, pulling my hips closer. I echoed his movements, my arousal growing with his satisfaction. I watched beads of sweat form on his brow, more apparent when his face screwed up with pleasure.
Making out was for teenagers.
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I inhaled his natural scent, enhanced by a salty concoction of unwashed hair and fresh perspiration; it was always sharper when we were making love. I felt a twinge inside and sighed softly, but then it was gone. It took him less than two minutes to fall asleep; I knew because I often watched the clock as I waited. I untangled myself from his clutches and tiptoed out of the room.
He stirred and reached for me, but I expertly dodged his grasp. I was always the one left with tingling limbs and uncomfortable sweating as I willed myself to sleep. A twinge. I let my head roll to the side to look at my husband. To me, it was my eternal flaw and as a wife, my greatest inadequacy.
I was happy, though. I had other ways of getting myself off when necessary. I had my husband, who loved me in spite of everything. My life was pretty much as perfect as a night of good friends, wine, and sex. I lay in bed and watched the ceiling, waiting for sleep. Yes, I was happy. I rummaged in my purse for my building pass.
Got it. Bill tapped his head and pulled the car up to the curb. I know, babe. No shit. He leaned down to peck me on the cheek. Oh, hello, fancy girl! I heard from behind me. I love Fridays, Jenny said as we walked to the front of the building. Know what I love more than Fridays though? I asked, stopping suddenly.
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How do you know? Are you sure? I stiffened when she touched my arm. No, I said with faux disappointment. I want to get a head start on the day. I headed to the fourteenth floor and shook my head in disbelief.
Book Review - The Cityscape Series by Jessica Hawkins - Maryse's Book Blog
Was I ready to step into her position? Never pass up an opportunity. Coming off the elevator, I almost ran right into the editor-in-chief and balked as I was hit with the smell of his self-tanner. His face pinched, deepening the many wrinkles around his eyes.
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Good morning, Olivia, he said as we switched positions. Come by my office in an hour,. This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
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