THE KNOCK AT the door jacks my heart rate sky-high. Please let it be Monroe. I push my wet hair back from my face and pull the door inwards.
Air rushes from my chest on an excited exhale.
‘Hi. I just wanted to check on you.’ She’s wearing her dress from the party as if she’s come straight here. I hold open the door and she strides inside the hotel suite and drops her bag on the chair.
‘Did you bring Sterling back with you?’ I ask, because I want to reach for her, but also need a reason to stop myself.
‘Yes.’ Her eyes roam over my naked torso and my cock responds under the towel wrapped around my waist. The greedy fucker can’t help but react to her.
‘Did you tell him...? About us?’ Acid burns my throat, jealous that they might have shared confidences after I left. But I need to know if he’s likely to punch me at breakfast tomorrow.
She shoots me a look full of hurt and accusation. ‘No, why would I do that? What is there to tell?’
She’s right. There’s nothing, except this endless, almost incapacitating craving. But it can’t be endless. I’m leaving in thirty-five hours. I’m fine. Great. I just allowed the sex to go a bit too far and I’m addicted. Time to start weaning myself off.
Right...
Before I lose my mind, I drag her close and kiss her the way I’ve wanted to all the long day. Only she can stop this tornado of need in me. And I’m running out of time. I can’t help selfishly gorging myself until I have to give her up for good. Soon.
Not yet.
Monroe tugs at the towel on my hips and it drops to the floor. She palms my cock, encircling my length and running her hand up and down in a way that makes me boil with heat.
‘I want you.’ Her stare is alive with sincerity and passion and bravery. She’s so open and fearless. She brings me to my knees, time and time again.
I tug down the zip at the back of her dress and strip it overhead so she’s naked but for her lacy white bra and panties. I spear my fingers into her luxuriant hair and angle her head so I can trail kisses along her neck and collar bone. I want to kiss every inch of her, to imprint her on my brain like an indelible brand, something I can carry with me for ever. Something no one can take away.
I flick open the bra and spin her to the bed, removing the garment that is only in my way. She lies back, her hand gripping mine to tug me down with her, but I resist. I want to look at her, to commit every inch of her perfect body to memory—the freckles dotted on her shoulders, the exquisite hourglass curve of her waist and hips, and her long shapely legs and dainty feet.
‘Hudson,’ she says, her colour high on her cheeks. I feel her desperation. It pounds through me too. But I want so many things all at once, and I’m terrified to miss out. I want more hours in the day. To delay the inevitable and just exist like this with her.
‘I want to look at you. To kiss you everywhere. Call it old-fashioned seduction, if you want.’ I smile, trying to inject this moment with the playfulness we enjoyed in Tokyo, but it doesn’t work. Her eyes stay intense and searching, and my smile feels rubbery.
I wrap my fingers around her foot and raise her leg, pressing my lips to her ankle and then kissing a path along her calf. She gasps. Shudders.
‘Ticklish...’ She sighs as I kiss the back of her knee and drag my tongue up her thigh.
‘Put your hands over your head,’ I murmur against her sweet-scented skin.
She does what I ask, her stunning hazel eyes half hidden behind her heavy lashes. With her arms overhead, her beautiful breasts are thrust up, her nipples erect and begging for my touch.
I kneel over her, entwine my fingers with hers and then press our joined hands into the bed, pinning her in place. I lower my mouth to her breast, flicking one nipple with my tongue and blowing a stream of air over her puckered flesh. She writhes under me, her thighs parting and her hips jerking.
‘Do you ache for me as much as I ache for you, my beautiful Dove?’
‘Yes...so badly.’
I take her breast into my mouth, sucking hard. Then I alternate, treating the other side to the same attention until she gasps and begs.
‘Don’t move your arms.’ I trail my lips over her stomach and position myself between her thighs so I can lavish her pussy with the same adoration. I grip her thighs, holding her open, and then I cup her arse and lift her hips from the bed, bringing her up to my mouth.
My cock weeps. My balls are desperate for release, but I never want to stop. If I delay her climax, I can keep her here for ever, hovering on the edge.
‘Please, please...’ She moves rhythmically against my face, a fine sheen of perspiration blooming over her chest. I abandon her clit and run my tongue along the length of her torso, tasting more of her salty sweetness. I push my tongue into her mouth, swallowing her cries as I glide inside her in one smooth thrust.
She moans long and low in her throat and wraps her legs around my hips so I sink closer.
‘Hudson... I’m so close.’ Her mouth is slack with desire, her stunning eyes glazed. I slowly tilt my hips, each gentle thrust deep and disciplined, as if I have all the time in the world.
I want all the time in the world.
Her arms are still over her head, one hand gripping the other. I lay kisses over her breasts and her lips and all the places in between.
‘You are so perfect. You feel perfect wrapped around me. You taste perfect too.’ Words start to spill from me as fire builds along my spine. My hips pick up speed, the race to empty myself in her too powerful to stave off any longer.
‘Come with me,’ I say, rearing up on my elbows so I can see all of her perfection splayed out beneath me.
‘Yes...yes.’ She squeezes my fingers, centring me, holding me to the earth.
I watch in wonder as she detonates at my command, clamping around me like a vice, her face shattered in ecstasy. And I spill into her with a feral roar that I know will leave me altered for ever.
It’s a long time before either of us speaks, but I feel her questions beat against me like the insistent knocking at a door.
I wrap my arm around her waist from behind and press a kiss to her temple. ‘I’m sorry I left the party early.’
Standing in her father’s picture-perfect garden, surrounded by her large, loving family, my chest was so tight I couldn’t breathe. But it was more than claustrophobia. I felt split open with longing and grief. For what I’d missed out on. For what I’d denied myself. For what might be. And, more than that, I’d wanted to go to Monroe with an intensity that had shocked me to the core. I had to leave before I did something stupid and unforgivable.
‘That’s okay. I know how hard today was for you.’
I wince. She’s comforting me when it was her mother’s memorial. I’m the worst friend. Even a lover would be able to put their personal stuff aside and be there for her. I push up on one elbow and turn her to face me.
‘No—it was a hard day for you. I let you down.’ I remind myself that I’ve promised her nothing, but the self-loathing remains, perhaps because I wish things could be different. That I could be different. But I can’t be her saviour. She has her family and Sterling for that—I saw the evidence today with my own eyes.
‘You didn’t let me down.’
I press a finger to her lips. ‘Let me explain. Remember I told you about Wendy, my first foster mother?’ My throat grows scratchy.
Monroe nods.
‘I think her and Bill would have kept me longer, perhaps even have adopted me, but Wendy got sick and they had to give me up.’
She blinks rapidly and I plough on. ‘I try not to think about Wendy too much, but today kind of reminded me. She was the only real mother figure I had and...well...she died. Years ago.’
She cups my face, shock and pain in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?’
I shrug, wanting the memories to disappear. ‘I found out just before I met you and Sterling. I’d contacted Bill for the first time since I had to leave them, although I’d almost reached out so many times over the years, but then always chickened out. She had already passed. I’d left it too late.’
My breath feels like ground glass.
Monroe wraps her arms around me. ‘You weren’t to know.’
‘No.’ But it proved to me I was beyond repair. A whole person would have contacted them the minute he was able to as an adult free of the system, just to say thanks. Whatever happy memories I had were down to them, and yet it took me a lifetime to show my gratitude and concern.
I’m not whole and Monroe deserves better. She deserves a man to worship her, to sweep her off the market and spend the rest of his life sharing her dreams.
‘What about Bill?’ she asks in a whisper.
‘We’ve stayed in touch. We’re planning a visit next time I’m in London.’
‘I’ll come with you if you need company,’ she says with conviction. ‘I’m happy you told me how today made you feel.’ New resolve flashes in her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t want you to go through those feelings alone.’ She brushes the hair back from my forehead. ‘Plus, you were a huge hit with the kids. Elliot already has some business idea he wants to run by you and Claire practically burst into tears when you gave her the flowers.’ She presses her mouth to mine—tender and soft. ‘Thank you.’
I clear my throat, battling strong emotions I can’t name. ‘You have a gorgeous family, Dove. They love you very much. They’re proud of you too.’
She nods, her eyes becoming shiny.
Her family hadn’t meant to, but the kindness and acceptance they extended me brought out all my ancient insecurities and made me feel like a fraud. An alien who didn’t belong. The contrast between Monroe’s big, caring family and my solitary existence is massive. We’re chalk and cheese. Even if I could overcome the things holding me back from pursuing a relationship, I could never be everything Monroe needs.
‘You know,’ I say on a whisper, ‘I see how it is for you. Your older siblings have paved the way and seem to have so much in common. You want to remember your mum, to be just like her too, but it’s okay to be yourself, to be different. It doesn’t make you any less.’
She stiffens under me and frowns. ‘I know that—you make me sound a bit pathetic. What’s your point?’
Good question. Why am I giving her emotional advice? What the hell do I know about complex relationships and family dynamics?
‘You are so far from pathetic, Dove. You’re smart and funny and ambitious. I don’t know what it’s like to have a family, but I know about work. And I know you. Are you really willing to give up everything you’ve worked hard for to keep house and change nappies? I can’t see you being satisfied with that.’
I’m crossing a line with her, but I want her to see that she’s perfect as she is. That she doesn’t need to compare herself to anyone. ‘Perhaps you have some unresolved grief over Cathy. It’s understandable. You’re the youngest. You had less time with her than your brothers and sisters—’
‘You’re wrong.’ She shoves at me, extricating herself from my arms. ‘I don’t want to give up anything. I want it all—a career, a life and a family. I thought you understood that. And why shouldn’t I have it?’ Hurt turns the green flecks in her irises to burning gold.
‘You can have it all. You should have it all.’ I cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek. ‘I’m saying this all wrong. I just meant that Cathy would be proud of you just the way you are.’
‘I know that.’ She swings away and sits on the edge of the bed. I stroke her back, my palms burning to feel all her skin.
‘Don’t leave.’ I press my lips to her shoulder, silently begging. ‘What the fuck do I know? Just ignore me.’ I rest my forehead against her back and suck in air, sick with the urge to drag her under me and chase away these feelings of inadequacy and confusion, to forget the torment shredding me alive. Why else would I have stepped out of my comfort zone to offer personal advice?
She spins to face me, speaking with those expressive eyes of hers, which glimmer with her forgiveness. ‘You know me better than you think. Your advice is as valid as anyone’s. And perhaps you have a point—I am still grieving. But it’s just because my parents, my family, gave me such a strong sense of belonging, I feel like I need my own tribe one day. Does that make sense?’
I nod, thinking of Sterling and her and Bold—my own place to belong.
‘Yes. Yes, it does.’ I hold her tight, my panic settling.
‘While we’re on the subject of grief, I want you to know something too.’
I brace myself.
‘I’ll always be here for you, Hudson. Always.’
I want to reject her compassion and insight, which is much more finely tuned than my own clumsy attempts. It’s not the words but what she leaves unsaid that makes me feel raw and exposed. Because, where I know I can trust her professionally and as a friend, I’ve never trusted anyone beyond that.
The next morning, I glance through the glass wall of Monroe’s office to where she’s chatting to her assistant in the open-plan area beyond. She’s wearing a pink silk blouse and tight skirt with heels. She’s relaxed, smiling, animated. I watch her like a man lost in the desert watches the drip of condensation on an ice-cold glass of water. And still I’m parched.
She left the hotel some time in the early hours of this morning. Despite being desperate for sleep, restlessness infected me for the remainder of the night. A vile thought muscled its way into my mind. Soon I’ll be back to my old self. The next woman I sleep with will be a one-night stand. The idea should bring me peace. A sense of normality returning to my life.
Instead I want to puke.
No. I’ll simply focus on work for a while. Monroe and I have had enough sex to last a lifetime. Although right now it feels as if I’ll never be satiated.
Sterling shifts beside me, scrolling through his phone. We’re here for our final meeting. I’m leaving before dawn tomorrow—and making a quick business stop in Singapore before heading home to Tokyo. Only it no longer feels like home. It never did.
Before Monroe, I never needed a home. But she’s made me question everything about my life. She’s stormed through my world and forced me to examine my sad existence. Now there’s no way back to where I was before Typhoon Kano struck.
I pace to the bar in Monroe’s office and pour myself a glass of water. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ Sterling says, his voice tense. The clatter of his phone as it hits the glass table draws my attention. ‘So are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on, or do you want me to ask Monroe?’ His expression is stony, and I know I’m busted.
Relief washes through me as I stare at the view of Canary Wharf from Monroe’s window. I’ve been a coward to avoid this inevitable conversation. The decent thing to do was to confront it head on. At least I can finally offload some guilt by coming clean.
The skyline blurs before my eyes as panic shunts my blood too fast. This is the train wreck I dreaded. Sterling’s anger and betrayal will be justified. It’s not the ending I’d have chosen, but at least I can admit that this thing with Monroe is over.
‘You’re right. Dove and I... We...’ I don’t have the words to explain what me and Monroe are. No longer just friends. More than fuck buddies. ‘Fling’ sounds inadequate, and yet it was always temporary.
I make a fist of self-directed frustration. I turn back to my friend and business partner, the mixture of guilt, remorse and failure a foul taste in my mouth. I never wanted to hurt anyone, especially my partners. The closest thing I have to family.
‘You’re sleeping together, aren’t you?’ His expression is unreadable but he must be pissed at me. I’d be pissed at him if the positions were reversed. In fact, I’d be fucking furious. The idea of him and Monroe, together intimately, turns my stomach. I look away, seeking composure. I have no right to be possessive over Monroe. I can’t give her one tenth of what she had with Sterling. And even that wasn’t enough.
You should never have touched her.
‘I’m sorry.’ My voice comes out rough thanks to the pressure constricting my throat. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t even sure I should. It wasn’t serious.’
His muttered curse echoes across the room. ‘So it’s over, is that what you’re saying?’ His hands are gripped in front of him on the table, and he’s coiled with tension, as if he could fly into a rage at the slightest provocation.
I shrug. Nod. Squeeze the glass in my hand so hard I fear it might crack. ‘Pretty much. I’m leaving tomorrow.’
‘Does she know it’s over? Have you spoken about it, or are you just going to sneak off like a coward and leave her wondering?’ His expression turns murderous. He loved her once. He knows me and what I’m capable of. Or incapable of. He knows Monroe and what she wants.
I abandon the glass of water and shove my hands in my pockets. ‘Don’t go getting all protective, as usual. I never played her. We both knew what we were doing. That it was temporary. She knows me as well as you do, remember.’
I glance at Monroe in the outer office. She’s bent over her assistant’s shoulder, pointing out something on the computer screen. The way we left things last night was as ambiguous and non-committal as you could get. She dressed, kissed me goodbye and left. I waited all night for the relief that we’d started to wean ourselves off sleeping together. Only, the minute the door closed behind her I wanted to chase after her and drag her back. Never to sleep again if it meant I could stay suspended in the insatiable need I have for her.
‘You’re right.’ I sigh. ‘I plan to talk to her today. I think she’ll be fine.’ We don’t need to officially end it because it always had an expiration date. It was never a thing.
It felt like a thing...
‘So you’re going to go back to being colleagues? Or do you plan to fuck her whenever the three of us meet up, because I’ll tell you right now—she deserves better.’
A defeated sigh blasts from me. ‘I agree, she does. She knows that too—she’s not stupid. She knows I’m a bad bet.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ His astute stare narrows.
I look closer, see new fatigue around his eyes. Something is off with him too.
‘I didn’t promise her anything. We still want different things. Monroe wants a big family, marriage...’
‘So?’
‘So, if you couldn’t make her happy, what hope do I have? I’m not used to all that. I don’t know how to be anything other than alone.’
I pace back to the conference table and brace my palms on the glass top. ‘She won’t find what she’s looking for with me. Anyway, there’s more. We messed around once before—after the divorce.’
‘You fucking bastard...’ He jerks to his feet.
I nod, taking it on the chin. There’s a line you should never cross, and a friend’s ex is on the other side of that line. ‘It was just one time. I haven’t laid a finger on her since.’
‘Until now,’ he spits. ‘The one time I’m not there, and you two can’t keep your hands off each other.’
He makes it sound as if we planned it. As if we couldn’t wait to have him out of the way.
‘It wasn’t like that. There was a storm... It just happened. But it was my fault.’ I should have resisted. Fought harder.
‘Bullshit.’ He paces the room. ‘There’s always been something between you two.’
My head whips round to stare at him as if he’s sprouted a second head. My ‘No!’ is like the crack of a whip.
‘I’m not saying she didn’t love me,’ he qualifies. ‘She did.’
The reminder shouldn’t bother me, but nausea threatens.
‘Only Monroe and I are responsible for the breakdown of our marriage.’ He shakes his head, demoralised.
‘I know. I was there,’ I mutter, recalling how conflicted I’d been, wanting to support them both, and then later fighting my attraction to her. Monroe and I were an inevitable mistake waiting to happen.
‘You don’t know everything. I told you how I fucked up, but she was to blame too. Yes, she’s looking for commitment, but she didn’t fully commit to me.’
My pulse ricochets around my chest. ‘What do you mean?’ I don’t want to talk about her like this, behind her back. But, by the same token, I want to know.
‘Before we met you, I begged her to consider moving to New York with me, just for a couple of years. She refused point-blank. Said she could never move away from her family, and I accepted that.’
‘Yes, she told me...’ An ache settles under my ribs. It’s ridiculous to think we could have a future. She lives here and I’m six thousand miles away.
But you don’t want a future...
‘After her mother died she pushed me away. It was as if I couldn’t do anything right. Try as I might, I couldn’t compete with the support she had from her family, nor could I compensate for what she lost. I hate feeling like a failure, so I switched off too. We never recovered.’
Nausea burns my chest. If Sterling, who has so much more in common with Monroe than me—who is so much more emotionally available than me—failed, how can I possibly ever be what she needs? If I try, I’ll fail too. Only I’ll lose more. Sterling will always take Monroe’s side. They’ll be a team again. They’ll both hate me. Bold will implode. I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for my whole adult life. Funding Blackhearts. My emotional peace of mind. My financial safety net.
I could never rebuild it all alone.
Sterling and I fall into uncomfortable silence. Resolve settles over me like an invisible shield. Knowing when to walk away is my stock-in-trade. Some investments just aren’t worth the risk.