The way he says it, like marriage is the last thing he’d ever do, crushes me. I hide the emotions before he sees them. I mask the way his words crush me one by one, but the truth is already on my lips and I’m telling him what I want before I can stop. “I want the little house with the hanging baskets full of flowers on the front porch. I want my office inside, so that I can be home with the kids. I want a big fluffy dog that digs up my roses, and I want the husband who kisses me on the cheek when he comes home. I know what I want Sean, and being a mistress doesn’t fit into it at all.”
“I see.” His gaze is locked with mine. Too many moments pass with words unsaid. The pit of my stomach grows colder and colder. It’s like I can sense him pulling away. My dreams aren’t his dreams. I can see it on his face. “And being a call girl does?”
“It’s temporary.”
He nods and his gaze falls to the floor. “I don’t have more to offer.”
I smile sadly at him. “Your offer wasn’t good enough, not for me. I can’t accept it no matter how I feel about you. I’m sorry Sean.”
CHAPTER 2
Sean nods, like he already knows. He glances up at me. “So, you’re back to being my call girl?”
I hate that he gives up so easily. If Sean gave even the faintest hint that we might end up together, my words would be different. But he doesn’t. I steel myself so that my answer comes out smooth and sure. “If that’s the best you can offer, then yes.”
Sean steps toward me and laces his hands around my waist. “I can’t do forever, Avery.”
“So,” I swallow hard. This feels like good-bye, like I’ll never see him again. The thought of not seeing him is too much. I push it away and manage to tug my lips into a slight smile. “So, tell me what you want tonight, Mr. Jones. I’m yours until morning.” The words sound light, but they fall out of the air like stones.
Sean works his jaw and watches me for a moment before answering. His eyes burn with words that I’ve never heard him say. I wonder if it’s real, or if I imagined how much he loves me. Thoughts like that won’t help, not now.
Sean tips his head forward, so it’s resting against mine. “I’ll tell you what I want, what I intend to do with you, Miss Smith.” There’s no remorse in his voice, no indication that he hates this as much as I do. I bet his mind is already some place dark, ready to tie me up again. I repress the urge to shiver as I think about it. Dinner was rough and this moment doesn’t make it better. No doubt, Sean plans on giving me a serious mind fuck as a going away present.
Sean dips his hands lower, cupping my butt and pulling us closer together. His lips are by my ear, his breath tickling me as he speaks. “I’m going to make love to you, Avery. You are going to be so sated that you’ll never be able to have sex again without thinking about this night. I promise you that.”
Surprised, I say, “I thought—”
“I know.” He kisses the top of my head, giving me the gentle touches that I so desperately crave. “I don’t want our last time together to be like that.”
I knew it was true before he said the sentence, but it still hits me like a two by four. “So, you’re leaving—after you help Peter—you’ll go back to California?”
“I’ve overstayed my visit, Avery. I should have left weeks ago.” Sean’s fingers press into my back as he slides them up to the zipper. He pulls it down and pushes the dress off my shoulders. The fabric slips down between us, pooling at my waist.
Sean and I stare at each other. Every reservation I have about his offer is fighting within me. I try to make a logical argument for accepting, but I can’t. I have years of schooling left and if something happens—if we break up—then I’ll be back in the spot I am now. At least this way I get to control my life. I know I’m too softhearted to live this way for very long. I know it’ll destroy me, but I still can’t walk away from it.
When I was a child, I pictured a guy that would come along and sweep me off my feet. He’d want to take care of me and make me smile. He’d want to be there for me on any terms he could get.
Sean isn’t that guy—he just isn’t.
I know I have to let him go, even though I don’t want to. Whatever weird-ass relationship we had is over, and this is the last time I’ll be with him. As the thought solidifies, it feels like I’ve been buried under an avalanche of stone. I can’t breathe. Tears prick the back of my eyes, but they don’t fall. I wish I was numb. I wish I could say yes to him. I wish I had a different life, because this one is so horrendously unfair.