Sorry for the delay. As ever, a huge and heartfelt thank you to all my readers. I'm super excited to post this, and even more so for the next chapter. Watch this space!


Chapter 16: Is There Nothing That Man Won't Do For Her?

As birthdays go, Olivia thinks this one has been pretty good so far. She had a great morning with Abby: they drank Champagne with their Eggs Royale in one of the best hotel bars in Manhattan; went on a very successful shopping trip through all their favorite boutiques; laughed until their abs hurt in that way only best friends can.

Lunch with her dad was equally nice, if not quite so carefree. She's always on her best behavior with him: smartly dressed, perfectly mannered. She's never uttered a single swear word in his presence and she doesn't intend to start now, even at the age of grand age of twenty-seven. His expectations are high and she's his only child: she couldn't bear to disappoint him. Which is why, when he asked what was new in her life, she decided not to mention Fitz. She hasn't even begun to imagine how she will explain her love affair with a married man thirteen years her senior to her very serious, straight-laced father. She's heard enough of his judgments of friends, colleagues and strangers on the news to know exactly what he'll say and she's not ready to hear that yet; not until she has her defense fully prepared and ready.

They departed the restaurant, full of the most incredible food, with a hug and a promise to see each other more often. As one of the country's most eminent zoologists Eli travels a lot from his home on the outskirts of the city, lecturing at universities and curating exhibits both in the US and abroad. And Olivia herself is always so busy that sometimes months go by before they both find time to meet up, even though they live so close. Their relationship has been difficult since her mother's death but as she gets older, she's finding she enjoys spending time with her dad more and more; that maybe their wounds are beginning to heal.

Her afternoon of pampering with Abby and Quinn is so much fun. She's hired out a spa and they spend several hours sipping Dom Perignon and rotating between massages, facials and mani-pedis. By the end, as they rush home to get ready for the evening, Olivia doesn't think she's ever felt so good. And yet, in the quiet moments between jokes or whenever Quinn mentions her boyfriend Charlie, she feels a desperate ache for Fitz. She misses him intensely; while her friends and family have been a wonderful distraction all day, she can't stop herself from longing for him. She just wants to see his beautiful face, his incredible smile; she wants to bury herself in his arms and breathe in his scent and let him kiss her until the whole world falls away. It's ridiculous really, that she needs him so much already… but at the same time, it just doesn't feel ridiculous at all.

She calls him, hiding in her own kitchen while her two friends are curling their hair in her bedroom and singing along to 90s pop (their usual pre-night out playlist). When his phone goes straight to Voicemail she hangs up, chiding herself for being so pathetic, for letting herself get down when she should be celebrating. She'll see him tomorrow afternoon; it's really not that long away.

"You okay?" Abby asks, jolting her out of her reverie.

Olivia manages a smile. "Yeah. You look amazing."

Abby grins and does a twirl in her Stella McCartney little black dress and Valentino heels. "Thanks. If I can't find a super sexy, super rich guy in this, I think I'm destined to be alone forever." Her gaze falls to the phone in Olivia's hand. "How's Fitz?"

"Not answering." She shrugs, forcing herself to put her sad thoughts aside and cheer up. "He's probably just really busy. Anyway, I should get ready."

"You should! There's only forty minutes till the car comes to pick us up and, as much as I love you, I will not let you go out in your bathrobe on your birthday."

Olivia laughs. "Aw, thanks Abs. I knew we were friends for a reason." She steps forward and hugs her a little more tightly than usual, overwhelmingly grateful for her friendship right now.

"Are you getting all emotional on me?"

"No. Well, maybe a little." She gives her friend her brightest smile. "Blame it on the Champagne."

"Or on Fitz, for making you so needy."

Olivia doesn't reply, powerless to defend herself when they both know it's true. At that moment Quinn comes in, singing Wannabe and heading straight for the fridge. "Time for more bubbles!" she exclaims, oblivious to her friends laughing at her. She fills up their glasses, still dancing along to the music, her gold sequined dress sparkling beneath the kitchen spotlights.

"Liv, you need to get dressed! Not that you don't look hot already, of course."

In the two years Quinn has worked for her they've become really close, so it's not unusual for her to talk about her boss like that. "I know. I'm on my way."

"Great. I'm so excited! Tonight is gonna be so much fun."

"Happy birthday, Liv," Abby says with a fond smile, holding out her drink in a toast.

"Happy birthday!"

"Thank you!"


"Well hey there, birthday girl! You look incredible, as always."

Olivia grins as she hugs Harrison, her PR manager and very good friend. She feels incredible too, wearing her new Hervé Léger bodycon dress in a dazzling shade of red, cut low over her chest, clinging to her waist and hips, ending at mid-thigh level. Her hair is loosely curled and falls past her shoulders; shimmering gold earrings hang down the length of her neck, almost touching her collar bones. Her favorite pair of black suede, five-inch Jimmy Choo sandals finish off her look, which is a little bold for the restaurant but will fit right in when they continue to the club later on. If only Fitz could see her right now… She pictures the look of desire on his face, the way his hungry eyes would roam over her body - and then forces herself to stop, because it's turning her on.

"Hey Harri. Thank you so much for coming."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. You remember Kelsey?" He re-introduces his girlfriend.

"Of course. How are you?"

"I'm great. Thank you for inviting me. Happy birthday!" The two women hug and Kelsey smiles as she hands Olivia a card and a small, wrapped gift.

"Aw, thank you."

The couple make their way past Olivia to take their seats at the table, greeting the other guests as they pass. There's Abby, Quinn and Charlie, and Huck and his wife Kim. She met Huck exactly six years ago today, on her twenty first birthday: he was one of the bar tenders at the club where she was celebrating. She'd had far too much to drink and he rescued her from herself, feeding her water and making sure she got home safely. Two days later - after she'd fully recovered from her hangover - she went back to say thank you and made a very calm, thoughtful and fiercely loyal friend.

It's a small dinner, just eight of them seated in the private dining room of Per Se, with its view over the restaurant on one side and Central Park and the Manhattan skyline on the other. Olivia has always preferred having a few, close friends than a larger group. As a child, it was because she was shy; now, with her name in the media every other day, it's because she needs to know she can trust the people around her.

She sits down between Abby and Huck, facing the gorgeous view, just as their server arrives. "Good evening, ladies and gentleman. My name is Yves and I will be looking after you tonight. First of all, may I wish you a very happy birthday, Miss Pope."

"Thank you," she beams.

"Now, there is a two-thousand-dollar bar tab courtesy of a Mr Thomas Attaway." Olivia's heart skips a beat. Is there nothing that man won't do for her? She can sense the curious looks of her friends but, fortunately, Yves is continuing his speech. "Here is our wine list for your perusal. Our sommelier is one of the best in the country, and I will ask him to come over and advise you. In the meantime, would you like still or sparkling water for the table?"

"One of each, please," Olivia requests, knowing the group well.

"Certainly," Yves says with a smile before retreating from the room.

"Who's Thomas Attaway?" Quinn asks as soon as he's gone.

"Oh… Just a friend. Of my dad's."

"Wow. Some friend."

"I know."

She catches Abby's eye, who mouths: "Fitz?"

Olivia nods subtly, unable to hide her smile at the impressed look on Abby's face. "How did he know we were eating here?" she asks quietly as the rest of the group engage in conversation.

"He called me at the office earlier this week," her friend admits. "He asked me what our plans were."

"And you didn't mention this?"

"He told me not to. He wanted to surprise you." Her blue eyes soften, matching the feeling inside Olivia's heart. "He is such a nice guy, Liv. He clearly adores you. I can't imagine any man I know doing something like this for his girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend," she sighs. "I don't think a married man can have one of those."

"Well, whatever you are, you're obviously really special to him. I'm sure he'd be here if he could."

"I know."

"Hey Liv," Huck interrupts from her other side, "What have you been up to lately? We haven't seen you for ages."

Her brilliant friends keep her distracted and entertained all the way through their starters and into their main courses, their fifth and sixth bottles of wine. Fitz might not be here but she's known these people for so long and she loves them all a very great deal. The delicious food, the vintage red in her glass and the incredible view of the city have all combined to make her feel perfectly content, even without the love of her life to share it.

And then, sometime around nine o'clock, everything changes.

Abby is just finishing a story about how she almost got expelled from high school for trying to seduce the boys' gym teacher. As everyone tries to control their laughter, she takes a sip of her wine and lets her gaze wander casually towards the restaurant - and suddenly she's choking. Olivia quickly passes her a napkin as she struggles to swallow, her eyes wide, attempting to gesture with her arms but having to hold onto her chest instead.

"Liv," she gasps after a few seconds, barely allowing herself time to recover. "Fuck. He's here."

"Who?"

She turns; at the very same moment she sees him, Abby says his name and it's a good job she does, because otherwise Olivia would never have believed it.

"Fitz!"

The world stops turning; time slows down. Their eyes meet and now there's no one else here, no one else on the whole planet. Her heart is frantic, trying to beat its way out of her chest - to him. A huge wave of emotion is rising inside of her; everything she's ever felt for this man is coming together, a rush of affection and lust and love so powerful it sweeps away all other thoughts and feelings. She tries to blink back tears but it's no use - more come, settling on her lower lashes, blurring her vision.

She just cannot believe it. He's here, in New York, on her birthday. All of him: his gorgeous smile, his handsome face; his body in that beautifully-tailored suit, so strong and so sexy. She watches him on the other side of the glass, looking nowhere but at her, and realizes she's on her feet now and that her whole body is shaking. In a few seconds she'll be in his arms and it feels like far too long; an entire, excruciating lifetime of waiting for the one thing she wants above all else.

His scent enters the room with him, masculine and fresh and so familiar, so comforting. He doesn't even glance at the dining table, at the people watching him with undisguised curiosity; he has eyes only for her.

"Hi, Livvie."

Now he's right here, right in front of her. She tries to speak but she just can't: this is all too much. She reaches for him instinctively, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. He's so reassuringly solid, so warm and she holds him fiercely, afraid to let go in case he disappears. She breathes him in as tears spill onto her cheeks, as he holds her just as tightly.

"Happy birthday, beautiful girl," he murmurs into her ear and she can tell he's feeling emotional about their reunion as well. After a moment he tries to draw back, to let her go, but she won't allow him.

"I can't believe you're here," she whispers, her voice trembling as she struggles to control herself.

"I had to see you," he replies, his palms running up and down her back. "I missed you so much."

Olivia finally releases him, just enough to be able to look at his face. The urge to kiss him is almost overwhelming and she can see his gaze has fallen to her mouth too; that he's fighting the same battle. What she wouldn't give to be able to make out with him right now: to feel his lips on hers, his tongue delving and tasting as he presses her up against the glass wall, his hard body…

"Ahem," a voice says, trying to disguise the noise as a cough. It takes her several long moments to let it penetrate her hazy mind, to let reality begin to creep in around the edges once again.

Birthday. Restaurant. Friends.

"Abby," Fitz says smoothly, turning to greet her friend with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. Olivia hurriedly wipes away her tears with her fingers and tries to ignore the six pairs of eyes which are staring at her from the table.

"Everyone, this is Fitz," Abby announces with a slightly nervous glance at Olivia. "He's a… friend of Liv's."

Olivia picks up her wine glass and takes a sip, hoping to hide her embarrassment and the fact she's so shaken. She doubts it's working, but at least it takes the pressure off and gives her a moment to recover herself while Fitz says hello to all her guests.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'friend' of Liv's?" Harrison asks Abby after he's shaken Fitz's hand with genuine interest. It's clear that everyone is skeptical about this definition and, given the intimate display they've just witnessed, Olivia isn't surprised.

Abby turns to her, helpless to answer. She takes a deep breath and looks at Fitz, who smiles encouragingly. He will back her up no matter what she says. "He's… We're…"

"We're dating," Fitz clarifies when it becomes clear she has no idea how to label them. He's so confident, so mature, addressing a group of strangers with such effortless class. She's usually an excellent public speaker but she's very envious of his skills right now.

"Yes," she breathes, and the way he's looking at her makes her blush and take another drink of her wine.

Fortunately Yves appears, sparing her from saying anything further. "Would you like another chair for your guest, Miss Pope?"

"Yes please."

She sits down as Abby, the absolute saint that she is, starts up a completely different conversation about what everyone is planning to order for dessert. Fitz crouches beside her, taking her hand, running his thumb over her skin. "Was that okay?" he asks quietly.

Olivia lovingly brushes her fingers through his curls. She doesn't usually believe in public displays of affection but right now, when he's flown across the country for her, she just doesn't care. "Yes. It's the truth."

He gazes at her, his blue eyes full of love. "You really are beautiful. I'd forgotten just how beautiful."

She falls deeper. "Thank you."

"I really want to kiss you."

"I really want you to. But I'm scared we might not be able to stop."

"And there's an entire restaurant of people who can see us."

"And that." They share a smile. "I still can't believe you came all this way. What about the gala?"

"What about it? It's nothing. Being with my girl on her birthday is a thousand times more important."

Hearing him call her 'my girl' makes her heart flutter madly. Yves reappears with another chair just as she's debating whether kissing Fitz right here would really be such a bad idea.

"Would you like to order something to eat?" he asks Fitz as he settles between Olivia and Abby.

"I don't want to put anyone out-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Abby interrupts. "You're not putting us out. As long as you don't mind eating your main while we have dessert, because I can't wait any longer to try the salted caramel chocolate tart. I've worked out every day for the last two weeks for this."

Everyone laughs. "Okay," Fitz concedes, amused. "In that case, I'd love to order. I'm starving."

"I'll bring you the menu, Sir."

"Thanks."

The rest of the meal passes in a blur. With Fitz by her side, everything is perfect. They share some of the story of how they met, sparing the details she gave Abby about their instantaneous connection and instead focusing on the things they did and places they visited in London. When she excuses herself to visit the bathroom, Quinn goes with her and asks a load more questions including how old he is and why she's been keeping him a secret. At first her friend and assistant is a little annoyed to have been out of the loop but once she sees how loved up Olivia is (something she can't hide, no matter how hard she tries), she mellows and congratulates her on finding him.

"He's so dreamy," Quinn sighs, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror. "But don't tell Charlie I said that."

"Of course not."

When they return to the table, long after ten o'clock and their fourteenth bottle of wine, the atmosphere is much more informal. Yves has drawn a silk screen across the inner window, hiding them from the restaurant. Fitz sees her approaching and pulls her down to sit on his lap. She's too enamored by him to protest, having been craving this close contact since he arrived.

"Hi baby," he says next to her ear. He seems to have caught up with them in terms of alcohol consumption: he's not slurring but he's very relaxed.

"Hi. Are you having fun?"

"Absolutely." His hand slides over her abdomen, palm flat; his little finger tantalizingly close to the low waistband of her lacy panties. He's watching her face, enjoying seeing how much he's turning her on with only the barest of touches. "How could I not be having fun with you here, looking like this? I love this red dress. You are sexy as hell right now."

Olivia is already so wet she could straddle him right this second and take him deep inside of her. She notices his gaze drifting down to her chest, the bare valley between her breasts, and he's growing hard beneath her thigh.

"Bad boy," she sighs, shifting slightly, teasing him.

"I know. You make me want to be so bad, sweet baby."

His mouth is agonizingly close to hers and she's almost kissing him when she answers in a very sultry voice: "You can be… later."

"How much later?"

"Alright lovebirds," Harrison says loudly, interrupting the moment - which is probably for the best. "We've decided it's time to move on. I take it you're still coming out?"

"Yes," Olivia answers, forcing herself to withdraw from Fitz's proximity and stand up. She offers him her hand, subtly lowering her eyes to his groin as he rises to his feet.

He smirks at her and, after she's picked up her purse, stands close behind with his fingers on her hip. "See something you like?" he murmurs, his breath tickling her cheek. He presses his lips there briefly and she turns her head, hoping for more. Instead of anything physical, the shameless look of desire he gives her, biting his bottom lip as he smiles devilishly, makes her breath catch and her core throb.

His question goes unanswered. He must already know that the answer is 'yes'.

They take taxis to Provocateur and settle into the booth reserved under Olivia's name. They toast to her birthday (again) with Champagne, which reminds her that Fitz paid for the bar tab at Per Se and she hasn't thanked him yet. She tells the rest of the group this and they all toast him as well: "To Fitz!"

"Thank you so much for that," she says softly, having to lean close to be heard over the music. "You really shouldn't have."

"I wanted to." He tenderly tucks her hair behind her ear. "I want to spoil you every chance I get - you need to learn to accept it."

If they were anywhere else, he'd be kissing her right now. It's almost enough to make her want to leave.

The night moves on. She dances several times with her friends, who are becoming increasingly more drunk while she sticks to water. Charlie and Quinn can barely stand but somehow they keep going without a single break. "They're crazy," Olivia tells Fitz when she returns, out of breath. "They spend most weekends at raves, usually until five or six AM. I don't know how they do it."

"I think it's cute," he replies. "It's their thing. I missed you, by the way, while you were gone."

The two of them are currently alone in the booth: Harrison, Huck and their other halves are still dancing and Abby is being chatted up by several men at the bar. If they weren't in full view of the public - she's already been spotted by numerous fans who've come over to say hi - she would definitely be sitting in Fitz's lap again.

"You should have come too."

"You know I can't dance."

"You know I don't care."

They grin at each other. "What's our thing?" Oliva wonders aloud, trying to ignore the way his hand is stroking her thigh beneath the table.

"Really, really, really hot sex," he says without pausing, his voice low. It sends a shiver right through her.

"Fitz…"

"What?" He moves closer. The heat of his body is caressing the bare skin of her arms, her legs and it's almost unbearable. "Don't you think it's true? The way we are when we're together… You get so wet for me, baby, and I'm always so hard for you."

She gasps and he groans. "I love the sounds you make, Livvie. When I suck on your nipples, you make these breathy moans, and when I'm lying between your legs, licking you out, you whimper my name… Sometimes, when you come, you scream and it makes me lose my fucking mind."

She can't tear her eyes away from his: they're so dark, so honest, so utterly lustful. Everything hits her all at once. She needs him: all of him, all over her, right now.

"Come with me," she says hoarsely. "No protests this time."

She takes his hand and leads him across the room, weaving her way across the bar and onto the dance floor. She doesn't stop at the edge but continues until they're right in the center, completely surrounded by hundreds of other people. Here, at last, they are strangers.

Fitz holds her close, using the cover of darkness to firmly squeeze her ass with one hand while his other slides over her waist, her breast. She rises into him helplessly, shuddering as his fingers brush over her nipple, as burning hot liquid pools between her legs. They're moving to the music subconsciously, carried along with the crowd which is pressing into them on all sides. There are enough strobe lights for Olivia to see his face, to anticipate the moment he can't take it any more: the moment he just has to kiss her.

When it happens, it's explosive.

Their mouths meet, open; their tongues so desperate to taste each other again. She tries to keep looking into his eyes because the way he stares at her when they kiss is so fucking hot, but she's so turned on that it's impossible to do anything other than let go.

He devours her - that's the only word for it. She can't breathe and that's okay, because this is far better and far more important than breathing anyway. His big hands are all over her, roaming up and down her back, beneath her dress, between her legs. It's all she can do to stay on her feet, to grind against him in time to the heavy bassline as he touches every part of her, body and soul. His lips move to her neck and she gasps for air as he bites down, soothing the skin with his tongue afterwards. She's in sensory overload: without sight or any sound other than the music, his smell and taste and the feel of him is driving her insane. After their time apart and their emotional reunion this evening, she's teetering right on the edge of oblivion.

He kisses his way back to her mouth, ravishing her for several long minutes until he finally takes her hips and turns her around, so her back is now along his front. He must have willpower of steel; either that, or he's enjoying himself far too much to take her home just yet. She can hear him groaning into her ear as she starts to move her body against his, letting the music take control of her. His arm holds her tightly around the waist, his other hand caressing her tight, aching breast. His kisses along her neck and shoulder send tremors through her bones; the size and strength of his erection against the base of her spine makes her wetter than ever.

"You're so sexy," he says into her ear, so close he doesn't even have to shout. "So beautiful, baby."

Olivia turns her face and kisses him, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. It's messy and sweaty and glorious; the most incredible foreplay of her life. They stay there for several more tracks, lavishing attention on each other until Fitz looks into her eyes, holding her face in his palms, and she can see he's reached his limit.

The rest of the group is sitting in the booth when they pass, minus Abby. "We're going," Olivia announces, and she suspects they can all tell what she and Fitz have been up to because she feels as disheveled as he looks.

"Great. We'll come too," Harrison says, his arm around Kelsey who looks like she's about to fall asleep.

"Us too," Huck says.

"Quinn?"

"We're going to 1 OAK. You guys should definitely come!"

"We'll pass, thanks. Maybe next time."

"That's what you always say," Charlie chimes in, emptying the last of the Champagne into his glass and downing it. "You need to man up, Liv."

"Okay," she laughs. "I'll try. Where's Abby?"

"She left with a bunch of guys about ten minutes ago," Harrison says. "She did try to find you before she went."

Olivia sends her best friend a quick text on their way out, thanking her for an amazing day and telling her to get home safely. I LOVE YOU! is the uncharacteristically affectionate response, which makes her smile.

Outside they queue together for taxis. It's gotten a lot colder in the last week and she shivers despite her coat. Huck has to go back inside, realizing he's forgotten to collect his and Kim's jackets from the cloakroom; Fitz, ever the gentleman, wraps his around Kim's shoulders and holds her against his side to keep her warm. He keeps his gaze fixed on Olivia though, much like he has done all night. Her body is still buzzing, wide awake from his touch, and the look of desire in his eyes only intensifies the burn.

Finally, after hugging everyone in turn and thanking them for making her evening so special, she and Fitz are alone in a cab. She snuggles into him, their fingers linked together.

"Have you had a good birthday?" he asks quietly, kissing her lips several times before and after his words.

"The best."

He beams at her. "Anything in particular that made it so great?"

"Hmm," she says, pretending to think. "I don't know. This guy decided to cross the country to see me - that was nice."

"Just nice?"

He's pressing kisses to her cheek, her jaw, making it hard to concentrate. "Mmm. More than nice. The nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"That's more like it," he smiles before his mouth meets hers again, the first in a series of long, luxurious kisses. His hands are beginning to wander again, slipping underneath the hem of her dress. The fire that he'd stoked inside of her is rapidly reigniting from the embers, fueled by how much he needs her, by how much she loves him.

This time when they arrive at Henry's house, they're kissing long before they reach the front door. Freed from the confines of the taxi, their lust for each other expands into the night, filling the quiet air around them with sharp intakes of breath and muffled moans. She finally has him all to herself after five long days of solitude and that realization leaves her desperate to get him naked; to take what she needs and to give him everything she can in return.

They stumble into the house; Fitz manages to switch on a light before the door slams behind them and he pushes her up against the wall simultaneously. He's ravenous now, his kisses wild as she rids him of his jacket and starts work on his belt and pants. In sharp contrast to the club, which was so loud, everything is so quiet now that all their sounds are magnified: each caress of their lips; the brush of his fingertips on her bare thighs; the softness of her lacy thong as he eases it down her legs and onto the floor. He stays on his knees and puts his mouth on her, swirling his tongue over her hot flesh, sending shockwaves through her body. She moans his name, just as he likes, and he growls in return and slips his finger inside of her.

"Oh my god," she whimpers, because every sensation is converging beneath his tongue and she can't take much more. She grabs his shoulders and makes him stand: he kisses her instantly, sharing her taste as he enters her with a second finger.

"Fuck, Livvie," he groans as she tries to resume her task of ridding him of his clothes, running her palm over him several times in the process. "You are so fucking sexy. This dress, these heels…"

He pulls down the cups of her dress and bra to expose her breasts, the red material now just covering her abdomen. His lips close around her left nipple and she arches off the wall as if struck by lightning. "Fitz," she pleads as his pants and boxers finally fall towards the ground. He doesn't even kick them off, just lifts her right leg off the ground and around his waist. He removes his fingers and now she can feel his tip at her entrance, just testing her warmth, her heat.

"Baby," he sighs, rocking his hips ever so slightly, teasing her unbearably. She meets his stormy blue eyes and realizes why he's pausing. She uses her right leg to pull him towards her; his gaze falters as he sinks into her, as her muscles grip him and she becomes even wetter around him.

"Fuck me," she whispers, cradling his handsome face in her hands. She kisses him softly, feeling his body twitch. "We don't need condoms anymore. I'm on the pill."

He stares at her for a moment, trying to comprehend. "You're…"

"Surprise."

The message hits: suddenly he's moving, sliding rapidly in and out of her with his entire length, filling her right to the hilt as his mouth crashes down onto hers. It's more than enough to conjure a mini-orgasm and she has to break away to cry out as her pelvic muscles contract vigorously, flooding her with pleasure.

"More," she says and he moves faster, holding her firmly in place against the wall, his grunts disappearing into their furious kisses.

"Missed you," he murmurs, his teeth grazing her neck during a brief break for air.

"Missed you too. So much."

She slides her hand down between their bodies, gripping the very base of his cock between two of her fingers for several thrusts - which makes him crazy - before turning her attention to her clit. "Come for me," he says throatily and she knows he's close too, his rhythm frantic now.

It only takes a few, quick circles for her to fall off the edge; she lets him take her the rest of the way, moaning incoherently as she comes hard, as he follows. There are stars at the edges of her vision; her chest can barely move quick enough to bring her the oxygen she needs. Fitz holds her close, his face buried in her hair until he's recovered enough to kiss his way to her mouth again.

"Wow," he murmurs, making her smile.

"I know."

She kisses him again, savoring him. It's been far too long since she's been able to do this and she's planning to make the most of it every day from now on.

Fitz slowly lowers her leg back to the ground. "Um… now what?" he asks sheepishly, still inside her.

Olivia can't help but laugh. "You'll have to pull out and go get me a tissue. I'll stay here with my legs closed. So glamorous," she jokes. "Condoms do have their upsides."

"I'd forgo glamor to be bare inside you any day," he replies seriously. "Every day, in fact. Ready?"

"Yep."

He withdraws from her and steps out of his pants and boxers before moving quickly to the bathroom across the hall. He looks hilarious, with his shirt still on but his bottom half bare. "You're so sexy right now," she comments and when he returns, he's grinning.

"Thanks babe. So are you."

She looks down at herself, exposed and still wearing her heels. "We're a classy pair, aren't we?"

"We sure are."

She tucks the tissue between her legs - what's there to be embarrassed about, really, when they've just seen each other at their most intimate? - and goes into the bathroom to clean up. She hasn't missed this messy side of unprotected sex, but he's right - it's so worth it to feel him naked inside of her. She strips off her dress, bra and shoes, replacing only her thong. When she searches for Fitz, she finds him in his bedroom with the en suite shower running.

"I thought you might like to wash up properly," he says, taking her into his arms and gazing down at her lovingly. "That, and I'd really like to fuck you again."

She giggles. "With birthday sex and reunion sex, we do have a lot of ground to make up."

"We do." He tilts her chin with his finger and kisses her softly; she feels like the most important person in the whole world. "Happy birthday Livvie. The first of many we'll celebrate together."

She absolutely cannot wait.


The next morning, Olivia wakes up alone in his bed. She rolls over and stretches; her whole body is aching, no doubt from the dancing and the incredible amount of fucking they did last night. Fitz played with her in the shower, teasing her with his soapy hands until they were on their knees and he was pounding into her from behind as she cried out his name like a prayer. Then, after washing each other down yet again, they cuddled up in bed and he kissed her all over, sucking and nibbling on her clit until she came and then making love to her until they were one orgasmic, exhausted mess.

Her birthday started out pretty good, but the way it ended was nothing short of mind-blowing.

Now, however, she can feel her head pounding; her mouth is so dry and tastes of alcohol, even though she brushed her teeth before bed, and she's nauseous. She tries to check the time on her phone but her battery has died. Slowly, she crawls out of bed and pulls on his Columbia t-shirt. Then she makes her way to the bathroom and afterwards, downstairs to find Fitz. It's raining outside, the first they've had in the city for weeks.

"Morning beautiful," he says from the sofa, turning to smile at her. He looks so good: freshly showered, his hair perfect, the scent of his body wash filling the air. His expression falters when he sees the look on her face. "How are you feeling?"

She crosses the room and curls up beside him, tucking her head against his chest. "Sick. Hungover. Ugh, I don't even think I was that drunk. My last glass of Champagne was around eleven o'clock; I only had water after that. Is this what happens when you get old?"

She can feel him chuckling. "I wouldn't know, I'm not old. Neither are you. Why don't you go back to bed? I'll make you a coffee."

"Oh god, no." The thought makes her stomach churn.

"Sorry. A tea, then?"

Olivia shakes her head and then stops, because it hurts. "You can't go anywhere - you're too comfy."

He laughs and kisses her hair. "Okay. Do you wanna pick what we watch on TV?"

"No. You can."

She yawns and he settles down deeper into the couch, drawing a blanket over her. It's so comforting, having someone to hold her when she's feeling unwell. She tries to concentrate on the TV but she can feel herself drifting back to sleep; suddenly, and it's probably a while later because it's lighter outside, she's jolted awake by a knock on the door and a woman's voice.

"Fitzgerald! Open up, I know you're in there!"

"Oh fuck." Fitz is on his feet instantly, panicked. Olivia finds herself sprawled on the couch, trying to work out what's going on. "What the hell is she doing here?"

And then it dawns on her, through the haze in her brain. She thinks she might actually be sick. "Is that… your wife?"

His eyes look wary, pained. "Yes."

"What are we gonna do?" She manages to sit up.

"Well, unless you want to meet her right now, like this-" He gestures to her attire, her messy hair, her hungover state. "-I suggest you go back to bed while I get rid of her."

He sounds acutely stressed but his words still hurt a little. Olivia forces herself to her feet; she touches his arm as she passes but he doesn't seem to notice, instead straightening the couch cushions… Erasing all evidence. Upstairs, she wishes she could avoid hearing their conversation but she has no choice: Mellie Grant's voice is loud, and she's clearly angry.

"How dare you embarrass me!"

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

Heels click on the wooden floor of the entrance hall. We were having sex there just a few hours ago, Olivia thinks sadly, their bubble well and truly burst. Now this woman has entered their space and ruined it forever.

"Oh, don't think you're so clever Fitz. I asked around and Rachel told me you were staying at her ex-husband's house."

"What are you doing here?" he repeats, through gritted teeth.

"This!" There's a pause - she's obviously showing him something. "You know, I thought it was suspicious when you said you wanted a quick divorce, but now I can see why! Who is she?"

Oh god. It must be a photograph of them together. Olivia goes to check her phone but remembers it's dead.

"How did you get this?" Fitz is asking.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"A friend sent it to me. She checks the blogs, the morning papers, you know. And don't pretend that isn't you, Fitz. Even in the dark I recognize you, with your arm around another woman. You can divorce me, but you will not make me look like a fool!"

"Mellie, listen to me-"

"Who is she?"

"No one. Look-"

No one.

The rest of their argument fades away; it's less than a minute before the door slams shut. Even though she's been the one saying they need to protect themselves, to stay secret, she can't deny that it hurts like hell to hear Fitz dismiss her like that. After everything they've been through already, after last night when he flew across the country to be with her, it's so easy to forget that he's married; that he still belongs to someone else. Someone else who's a successful lawyer his own age, who wears heels on a Sunday morning to visit her estranged husband. She has no idea what Mellie looks like but she doubts she'd ever allow herself to be a hungover mess like Olivia is right now.

When Fitz comes into the room, the only thing she can do to stop her heart breaking is pretend to be asleep.

"Liv?" he says softly. She feels the bed dip with his weight as he sits beside her. "I need to go and find her, to sort this out. I'll be back soon."

He waits to see if she'll answer; when she doesn't, he gently kisses her cheek and then leaves. As soon as she hears his car pull out of the driveway, she gets up again and calls a cab from the landline. She dresses as inconspicuously as she can in a pair of his shorts and his t-shirt, folding her clothes and shoes into a backpack. It's pretty obvious that she's spent the night at a guy's house but right now, she feels so melancholy that she doesn't care if it makes headline news - maybe then, Fitz will acknowledge her.

As she showers in her own bathroom, a hundred emotions run through her. Most of all, she feels stupid and childish: a drunken night out in a club with her twenty-something friends; grinding on each other like college students; ending up sick and pathetic and the very opposite of sexy the next morning… Fitz is forty! He should be hanging out with women his own age, drinking in nice lounge bars, going for bike rides the following day and eating brunches in Central Park. He shouldn't be babysitting her and having to sneak around. It isn't fair; no wonder he was annoyed with her this morning.

After the tears have all flowed away down the drain comes intense, unavoidable fatigue. She brushes her teeth before crawling into bed where she falls asleep almost instantly… forgetting to put her phone on charge. She sleeps for a while, probably sometime into the afternoon, before she's woken yet again by a knock on the door. There's a horrible sense of déjà vu - until she hears Fitz's voice.

"Livvie? Are you home, baby?"

She contemplates ignoring him, pretending she's out. Her thoughts this morning about their relationship seem absurd now, like they belonged to someone else… And yet her heart still feels heavy, weighing her down; hearing him call her 'no one' and then chase after his wife still hurts. She eventually gets up, relieved to find her headache has gone. She thinks about putting on some proper clothes instead of her pajamas but decides he's already seen her looking much worse today.

"Hi," she says quietly, opening the door. He looks so worried; she can barely stand it.

"What's wrong? I got home and you weren't there, and your phone's off."

"Sorry. I forgot to charge it."

He's staring at her. "Can I come in?"

Reluctantly she moves back and lets him past, following him into the living room. "Livvie, what's the matter?"

She shrugs, and hates herself for it. There she goes again: childish. "Nothing."

He's not buying it and she's glad, because she really hates fighting with him but she has no idea how to express her feelings without sounding like a five-year-old. "Are you mad because I went after Mellie?" He waits; she stays silent. "For god's sake, Liv! I had to smooth things over. I need to keep her onside until the divorce is finalized. I can't afford to piss her off because she'll destroy me!"

Olivia sits down on the couch, processing his words as he sits beside her. "You want to know what's really funny?" he asks.

"What?" she mumbles.

"It wasn't even a photo of you and me. I mean, you're in it, which it why it was on the blog, but I've got my arm around Kim. You know, when she was cold without her jacket?"

He gets out his phone and shows her: instantly, a large percentage of her worry evaporates. She didn't realize she'd been so concerned about their relationship being outed already, focused as she was on her feelings about him and his wife. Now that that's gone, the rest of her fears are starting to seem really silly.

"There's something else wrong, isn't there?" he presses when she doesn't speak. "Livvie, please tell me. I have no idea what's going on."

He looks so concerned, so lovely and handsome and perfect, that every single one of her bad thoughts comes crashing down around her. How could she doubt him? How could she ever think he didn't want to be with her, when everything he's done since they met has been to prove how much he cares about her? Yes, they're in a difficult situation but he's never been anything other than totally honest with her - and now she owes him the same in return.

"It's stupid," she says in a small voice. "Really stupid."

"Try me. I've done some pretty stupid stuff in my time."

She sighs and makes herself look into his eyes. "I just got upset because… our magical little birthday bubble burst this morning. I keep forgetting about your wife; I wish more than anything you were single, and we could go out and face the world together. And then she turns up, and I feel like crap anyway, and you told her I was 'no one' and I just-"

"Olivia, listen to me," he interrupts, which is fortunate as she's almost run out of ridiculous things to say. "I was just trying to protect you. I thought that's what you wanted. And anyway… I was talking about Kim."

He smiles, lifting her chin, and she can't stop the corners of her lips curving upwards too. "So you don't mind spending a Saturday night getting drunk with my friends, going to a club that plays house music?"

"It was, honestly, the most fun I've had on a night out in years."

"Really?"

"Yes!" He pulls her into his arms and she tries not to cry, because he's so amazing and she's such an idiot. "Is this what you've gotten yourself so upset about?"

"Yes."

"Oh baby. You are-"

"Completely crazy?"

"I was going to say irrational, but yes. You are totally fucking crazy."

She laughs through her tears, clinging onto him. She has no idea what's wrong with her emotions at the moment; she hopes it's just a combination of tiredness and alcohol. "I'm so sorry," she tells him, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

"It's okay, baby. Just promise you'll talk to me in future, instead of running away. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good. Now, stay there and close your eyes - I have a belated birthday present for you. Three, actually."

When she's allowed to look, there are packages on the sofa in front of her. "Oh Fitz. This is too much."

"You don't know what's inside them yet," he grins. "Go on, this one first."

She rips open the paper to reveal a pale blue box. Inside is a set of the most delicate, peach-colored lingerie she's ever seen. "Wow. These are gorgeous."

"I guess they're kinda for me as well," he teases.

"Thank you. I love them. Which next?"

He hands her a smaller gift which feels like - and is - a book. A travel diary. Inside he's documented their time in London, including pictures of the landmarks they visited, their opera and train tickets and the selfie she took of the two of them on Waterloo Bridge. Her eyes fill with tears again and she hugs him tightly. "Fitz, it's amazing."

"I'm glad you like it. There are so many pages for us to fill together."

She kisses him, cradling his face. "You're too good to me."

"I'm not. You deserve everything, and more."

With a bashful smile she opens the final present, a medium-sized jewelry box. Inside is the most beautiful necklace she's ever seen: a radiant cut, pink diamond the size of her thumbnail in a setting of smaller diamonds, sitting on a fine silver chain. It's so sparkly even in the low light of her living room. She raises her wide eyes to Fitz's, who's looking at her with apprehension.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh my god. I love it. It's… It's stunning, Fitz."

"It was made in New York, and the lingerie was hand sewn in a boutique in LA. I wanted to get you presents from places that are special to both of us. Hopefully we can make so many more memories together over the years, from all around the world."

"I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

He offers to put the necklace on but she can't bring herself to wear it with her pajamas. She runs into her bedroom, trying to find something suitable to pair with such an astounding piece of jewelry. After a brief search through her closet, however, she comes up with another idea.

Fitz's eyes widen when she walks back into the living room completely naked, her hair tied up in a ponytail. His surprised expression morphs into an appreciative smile and he stands to place the necklace on her and fasten it at the back. When she turns around to him again, she can tell it looks even better on than he'd imagined.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his fingertips running over the delicate chain and lower, over her skin. "Livvie, I…"

Their eyes meet. He doesn't need to say it: it's all over his face; in every gift he's bought her, everything he's done for her this weekend.

"I know," she whispers. "So do I."

And then she kisses him.