“I’ll make you a deal: you let me wash off tonight, and in the morning we can do this all over again, so you can be a possessive caveman and mark your territory.”
“I am being a possessive caveman, aren’t I?”
“A little, but I don’t blame you; it’s kind of hot that I’m full of your cum. Just don’t get any ideas about me being barefoot and pregnant.”
He huffs a small laugh and kisses my forehead, then rolls onto his back, tucking me into his side. Swiping his thumb on my stomach, he sighs, “As much as I love the idea of your belly being swollen with our baby, we’ll need to stop by a pharmacy at some point tomorrow for emergency contraception. Just to be safe. It’s too much of a risk to your career.”
“What about your career? Your popularity would go down if you were a dad off the market,” I tease.
Isaac stills, but holds me closer. “You’re fucking joking, right? Say the word, and I’ll walk away from all of it right fucking now.”
“I’d never ask that of you.” Whether he would or wouldn’t is debatable. His mind is likely clouded by endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, or a combination of all three. To be fair, so is mine.
Reaching over to the hotel phone, he grabs the receiver and presses the button for housekeeping. “Hi, yes, could I have twosets of sheets and another comforter sent to room 417… Yes, thank you. You can leave them outside.” He hangs up, then calls down to one of the restaurants. “Good evening. What time do you open for breakfast?… Perfect. I would like a reservation for five. Actually, let’s make it for six at 7 a.m. if possible… Great, thank you.”
Once he hangs up again, I ask, “Who are you having breakfast with?”
He slides a hand between my legs, slipping two fingers inside me. “I’m having you for breakfast, then we’ll have actual breakfast with our security and staff.” I giggle as he rolls me onto my back. “While we probably can’t be together publicly right now, you’re mine, Livy, and I’m not letting you go again.”
16
Isaac
Waking up with Olivia in my arms, luck and fate may finally be on my side—I had a perfect night alone with the one who got away. No matter how at peace I feel, I’m not naive to the fact that it’ll be nearly impossible for us to be together after today.
But reality can wait for a few more hours.
We don’t need to get ready for breakfast for at least thirty minutes, and there’s no way in hell I’ll waste a single second of our limbs tangled with her cheek pressed against my chest. Olivia’s soft hums as she exhales will only make it harder for me to sleep solo tonight, but it’s worth it.
I love her. Always have, always will.
What happened last night wasn’t sex, it was a damn promise. In here, Livy is mine as much as I’m hers. My heart already aches knowing in a few short hours I’ll have to pretend she’s not. If anyone found out about us, she’d be vilified. Fuck the outsideworld, and its fucking double standards—I’m not letting her go, even if we have to keep our relationship a secret.
Years ago, we couldn’t handle the long distance. Everything’s different now. I don’t care if I only get a weekend a year with her for the foreseeable future. I’ll take it. She may have thought I wasn’t serious, but I’d give it all up for a chance of something real with her.
As I mindlessly stroke Livy’s back, savoring her silky skin under my fingertips, she stirs, murmuring, “What time is it?”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re staying in bed until the very last second before breakfast.”
“Do we have to get breakfast?” She kisses my chest, then glances up at me. If it was up to me, I’d have us skip the whole day, just so I could hold her like this. “I can just grab a snack before the inauguration.”
“So help me if you try to only eat a handful of almonds for breakfast, I'll order you pancakes or french toast for room service, and personally feed them to you.”
“You just want to lick maple syrup off my tits to remind you of home,” she giggles, snuggling closer.
“You’re not wrong, but you need to eat. If you’re not going to take care of yourself, then I will. Speaking of breakfast, I’m still hungry.”
I slide a hand between her legs, and as I’m about to dip below the covers for a taste of her, a knock at the door startles both of us. It’s likely Tim, but at a second loud rapping of knuckles that are definitely not his, we both still, waiting for another.
Aubrey’s voice carries through the door. “Open up!”
Eyes wide, Livy pulls away and I do the same. She hides under the blanket—which isn’t exactly the most efficient—and I quickly get up, dressing in the clothes I loaned her yesterday, then put on my glasses. Freeballing it in sweatpants isn’t my best choice, but we have no time for an alternative. Of course, there’s a hint of rose and vanilla on the shirt; I wish I didn’t have to change into a suit so I could wear it all day.
“Stay here,” I warn, and I make my way to the door. After a deep breath, I check the peephole before opening it, finding Todd and Aubrey with a man I recognize but can’t quite place.
“Where is she?” Aubrey snaps, pushing past me with a large garment bag.
I open the door wider. Olivia’s yelp is heard from here, followed by the loud slam of what’s likely the ensuite door.
