Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3)

by Tara Wyatt

  He let out a groan, his hips moving as he slid his cock against her. “I’m good, I promise. Are you sure?”

  She cupped his face and kissed him. “I trust you, Max. I love you. I want you bare.” She leaned forward and trailed her lips over his ear, marveling at how her own comfort with dirty talk had grown over the past month. “I want you to come inside me. Fill me up.”

  He let out an anguished moan that sounded like it had been torn from deep in his chest and he fisted his cock. “Ride me, angel. Take me inside you.”

  She lifted her hips and sank down onto his cock, working herself down inch by inch, taking him deeper and deeper with each up and down movement.

  “Jesus,” he moaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m not going to survive this. You feel so fucking good.” He pushed his hips up, spearing the rest of the way inside and she cried out, the knowledge that he was inside her with nothing between them intensifying the pleasure throbbing through her. Once he was buried deep inside her, his hands landed on her hips, holding her still.

  “Angel,” he whispered, crushing his mouth to hers. “Thank you.”

  “For?” She moved her hips back and forth in a subtle movement and his eyes fluttered closed.

  “This. For trusting me.”

  She moved her hips again. “Of course I trust you, Max. I love you.”

  He moaned and with a firm grip on her hips, urged her up and down his cock. “Shit, I don’t think I can last much longer. Being bare inside you is fucking incredible, Willa. I love you. I love you so much.”

  Her heart hammered against her ribs as she started to ride him in earnest, taking him deep, her hips moving. The knowledge that he was going to come inside her ratcheted her own arousal right back up to a ten and she ground down on him, working her clit against him. Soon enough another orgasm, an echo of the earlier one, flared to life inside her and she clamped down on him, his name falling from her lips again and again.

  “I love you, Max,” she said, her voice shaking as she rode out the last pulses of her orgasm.

  “Gonna come,” he ground out, his grip almost bruising on her hips. “Gonna come inside you, angel.” With a final thrust, he let go, a harsh, masculine groan escaping from his mouth as he pulsed inside her, his cock jerking.

  For a few moments, they stayed like that, his body inside hers as the lights of the city moved around them. She leaned forward and laid her head on his shoulder, his hands stroking up and down her back. Not wanting the evening—that had started off so badly—to end.

  19

  Max whistled as he sat down behind his desk on Monday morning, his mood matching the bright sunshine streaming in through the windows behind him. As he booted up his computer and unpacked his things, he felt as though his entire body were vibrating with happiness, and it was all because of Willa. They’d spent an incredible weekend together—a large portion of it in bed—walking through Central Park, spending Saturday night at an outdoor jazz concert, Sunday at the Bronx Zoo. The more time he spent with her, the deeper he fell, and he just wanted to keep falling and falling.

  And even though he kept thinking about the ring he’d bought, he knew it was too soon. But he did keep toying with the idea of asking her to move in with him before the end of the summer. He knew that her sublet on Theo’s old place was up in August, so the timing couldn’t be better. In the past, he’d never, ever wanted to share his space with someone he was dating, but with Willa…his place just felt cold and empty when she wasn’t there. Sometimes, he’d walk around and find the little things she’d left behind—her toothbrush, the rosemary-scented shampoo she liked, her pink hoodie with a picture of Legolas and the words “too many arrows, not enough orcs” on it, and he knew that he didn’t just want parts of her in his space, in his life. He wanted all of her. He knew, without a doubt, that he’d found his person, and he suddenly understood why Theo and Sebastian had gone to the lengths they had for Lauren and Kayla.

  There was a sharp rap at his door and he glanced up, his eyes landing on Ravi, the company’s head of PR. He took one look at Max and his eyes went wide.

  “Oh God, you haven’t seen it, have you?”

  Max frowned, his stomach hardening at the expression on Ravi’s face. “Seen what?”

  Ravi stepped into Max’s office and shut the door behind him. “The Times article. It came out this morning, online and in print.”

  Max arched an eyebrow at him. “Why? Is it bad?”

  Ravi’s expression was flat. “Yeah. It’s bad.”

  With a sigh, Max opened up his web browser and quickly navigated to the NYT website, easily finding the article because it wasn’t buried in the tech section. For some reason, it had landed on the front page. With Ravi hovering, he started reading.

  By the time he was finished, he felt like he was going to throw up. The journalist, Kelly Palmer, hadn’t just reported on the development of the Blind Date app. She’d turned her article into an exposé of sorts. She hinted that Willa had manipulated the algorithm in order to get matched with Max, who, last year, had been named one of New York’s most eligible bachelors..

  But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was that she’d dug into Max’s past. The reporter questioned if Willa knew what she was getting into by getting involved with Max because of his shady past.

  And then she’d outlined everything. His relationship with Sophia and that she’d drowned while on vacation with him and friends. That there’d been an investigation and he’d been cleared of any wrongdoing. The article, of course, cast doubt on Max’s innocence, implying that he’d had something to do with Sophia’s death, questioning if her drowning had truly been an accident. It then went on to speculate as to why he’d been single all those years in the aftermath of Sophia’s death—was it guilt? Fear he’d do it again?

  Whoever this Kelly Palmer was, she’d taken what was supposed to be an article on a new kind of dating app and twisted into a tawdry true crime story. She’d humiliated Willa and exposed the lie he’d told her in one fell swoop.

  “Fuck!” he ground out, shoving away from his desk.

  Willa. He had to get to Willa. If he could explain before she saw it, maybe…He clenched and unclenched his fists, panic tightening around his lungs like a vise. He stood and strode toward the door, anger and desperation and fear clawing at him.

  “Get legal on this,” he barked at Ravi. “This is libel and I want that article retracted immediately.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Ravi, inclining his head. “Right away.”

  Max strode down the hall, the entire workspace going silent as he passed, every pair of eyes glued to him. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to Willa.

  When he got to her office, it was empty, even though they’d come in together this morning. Her Starbucks cup was still sitting on her desk, seemingly untouched. He paced between her desk and the door, hoping, praying that maybe she’d just gone to the bathroom. He raked a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to sort through the emotions slamming through him. Tried to organize his racing thoughts.

  When she didn’t reappear after a few minutes, he stepped out into the hallway, almost colliding with Chris, one of the senior engineers who worked closely with her. “Have you seen Willa?” he asked, his voice coming out louder and harder than he’d intended.

  Chris glanced around and then said quietly, “She left.”

  Sweat prickled along Max’s hairline as he nodded and headed back toward his office, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

  He dialed Willa. It went straight to voice mail.

  He tried again and again, but when it went to voice mail for the third time in a row, he resigned himself to leaving a message. “Angel, we need to talk. Call me or text me to tell me where you are. Please.”

  Then he texted her the same thing, waiting with his heart in his throat for her to respond. He kept glancing at his phone as he spoke with the head of the legal department, as he spoke with R
avi about the necessary crisis PR moves. Finally, about fifteen minutes later, his phone buzzed with a text from Willa.

  Willa: I’m at home. You’re right. We do need to talk. Please come over if you’re free.

  Max: I’ll be right there.

  He grabbed his keys and booked it to the building’s underground parking garage, cursing Manhattan traffic as he fought his way north from Tribeca to Midtown. By the time he got to Willa’s block and found parking, nearly forty minutes had passed since her text. He stepped into Theo’s building, trying to calm the storm of panic and fear inside himself, nodded at the doorman and saw himself up to Willa’s floor. Standing in front of the door, he took a breath, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time.

  He knocked and she opened the door almost immediately, her pretty hazel eyes bloodshot and rimmed with red. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, guilt gnawing at him like a rabid animal. Without a word, she stood aside, leaving room for him to enter. The door closed quietly behind him, sealing them away from the world.

  He could fix this. He had to.

  Willa sat down on the sectional sofa in the living room, curling into the corner, her arms wrapped around herself. He sank down onto the couch a couple of feet away from her, giving her some space, his hands clasped between his legs.

  “Is it true?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Is any of it true?”

  He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I’m not a murderer, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  She scoffed. “I know that, Max. I know you didn’t fucking kill someone. But the rest of the story, not about Tapp but about you and Sophia and…” She trailed off, swallowing thickly. “Is it true?”

  He looked up, forcing himself to meet her eyes. “Yes. The parts about me and Sophia are true.”

  Her face crumpled and fresh tears slid down her cheeks. He felt paralyzed. He didn’t know what to do or what to say.

  “I’m so sorry, Willa.”

  She bit her lip and looked away, shaking her head. “You lied to me.”

  His chest was so tight with guilt that he struggled to take a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “Because I knew that it would change things between us.” He sighed, his arms vibrating with the need to hold her. But he didn’t reach for her. “I was trying to protect you.”

  “Were you? Or were you trying to protect yourself?”

  “I—”

  “Did you think we could just be together and you could never tell me about this? This is a huge trauma, Max. One that clearly still affects you, given how you pushed me away when we first slept together. How am I supposed to be in a relationship with someone who can’t give me openness and honesty?” She looked away again, shifting on the couch as she reached for the nearby box of tissues. She blew her nose and then crumpled the tissue in her hand. “I was completely vulnerable with you, right from the start. I told you that I wanted to be with you. I fought for you. I gave you the chance to prove yourself to me after the way you’d hurt me. I told you everything—about my childhood, my cancer, my past relationships. Everything.” She shook her head. “I asked you for openness and honesty, and you said you’d do that. That you’d give me that. But here I am, reading about the biggest things that ever happened to you in the fucking New York Times.” She blew out a breath, shaking her head slowly. “You were more open and honest with me when we talked on the app. When you thought I was a stranger. You were more vulnerable with FreshPrincess than you’ve been with me.”

  He wanted to tell her that wasn’t true, but it wasn’t completely wrong either.

  “You say you lied to protect me, but you left me open to being blindsided to protect yourself.”

  He opened and closed his mouth, scrambling to find the right thing to say, his brain spinning uselessly.

  “But you know what hurts the most? It’s not that you lied to me. It’s that I trusted you with everything I have, and you don’t trust me the same way. You broke my trust, and you showed me just how uneven this relationship is.”

  “It’s not uneven. Willa, I love you.”

  “But you don’t trust me. Not enough to let me in.” She pushed up off the couch and paced to the window. “You didn’t have enough faith in me or us to tell me the truth.”

  He stood too, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So you’re telling me that if I’d told you that I’m partially responsible for my girlfriend’s death, it wouldn’t have changed anything between us?”

  She spun to face him, her arms out at her sides. “I don’t know! It might’ve. I don’t know. What I do know is that finding out you lied to me, that you don’t trust me has absolutely changed things.”

  He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. Her skin was pale, her hands like ice. “I only lied to try to prevent you from getting hurt. I need you to know that.”

  She shook her head and took her hands back, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know what to think,” she said, her voice trembling.

  Desperation tore at him and he shoved a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I lied, Willa. I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

  She blew out a breath and wiped at her eyes. “But you did. You did hurt me.”

  “I—”

  “I don’t want to hear more excuses, Max. You lied for your own selfish reasons and you need to own that. I don’t want to hear that you did it to protect me. That’s bullshit. You did it to protect yourself because you weren’t willing to let me in. To let me see the real you. You did it because you don’t trust me enough to be vulnerable with me.” She turned back to the window. “I fell in love with an illusion.”

  “No, Willa. I’ve never been more real with anyone.” He didn’t know how to make her see that. He could feel her slipping through his fingers and didn’t seem to be able to do a damn thing to stop it.

  “And yet, I’m still finding out about your past from a damn news article. Even though I asked you about it and you had a golden opportunity to tell me. To let me in. But you didn’t have enough faith in me or us to do that. Were you ever going to tell me the truth? Or were you just going to keep lying to me for years to come?”

  “I…” He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, guilt and anxiety and dread all weighing down on him like a boulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it through. All I knew was that I wanted to keep that part of myself, my past away from you.”

  “How would you feel if the situation were reversed? If you’d asked me about my scar,” she said, pulling her shirt aside and pointing at the faint scar near her collarbone left by her chemotherapy port, “and I’d told you it was nothing, just a little accident, and then you find out from somewhere else that I’d actually had cancer and had just not told you that part? How would you feel?”

  He sank back down on the couch, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “I’d feel like I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did,” he admitted. “I’d feel like you shut me out because you weren’t comfortable letting me in.”

  Her eyes met his. “And that’s where I am right now.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Willa. I shouldn’t have lied to you. But we can move past this, and—”

  “I don’t know, Max. I love you, but…this is a lot. I’m shaken. I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me, and I’m questioning a lot of things right now.”

  His stomach heaved and his heart hammered against his chest, so hard it almost hurt. “Willa, I know this is a lot to take, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied. It was a stupid, knee jerk move, and I regret it. But please don’t think that this means that I don’t love you. Because I do.”

  Her features tightened, and he could tell she was fighting back another wave of tears. “I know,” she said softly. “I know that you love me the best way you’re able.”

  Fuck. Fuck. This was why he’d lied in the first place. To try to prevent
her from seeing the damage. Knowing how she’d look at him if she knew who he’d once been.

  She took a breath, rubbing her fingers over her lips. “I love you. I do. And that’s why this is so hard for me…” She bit her lip, her brow furrowed. “But I think we should hit the brakes.”

  “What?” He felt like he’d been punched in the chest, pain vibrating through his body at the realization that he might actually lose Willa over this.

  “Things have been moving pretty fast, and I just…I need some time to think. I need some space to process all of this and figure out how I feel. I’m still reeling right now. I don’t know what to think. I love you so much, Max, but I don’t know how to plan for a future with someone who won’t let me in. Who can’t be vulnerable with me.”

  He felt completely at a loss as to what to say or do to fix this. He’d apologized. He couldn’t take the lie back. He didn’t know what else he could give her that would make things right. And now she was saying she wanted to hit the brakes? Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “Is there anything else you want to say to me?” she asked, her hazel eyes wide and bright.

  He pushed up off the couch and crossed the distance between them, laying his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Willa. I only did it because I was trying to protect you.”

  Apparently those were the wrong words because she gave a slow, disbelieving shake of her head, her gaze landing everywhere but on him.

  She stepped away from him. “I think you should go.”

  “Willa, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I lied. I only did it—”

  She pointed at the door, her hand shaking. “I need you to go. Please, Max.”

  He stared at her, trying to find the words to fix this. To make her understand why he’d lied, that he wasn’t the same person anymore.

  “I love you, Willa. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Only you.”

  “And yet you still can’t let me in.” She looked out the window. “I’m going to take a little time off from work. I’m not ready to face everyone at the office.” She walked to the door and opened it, not saying anything else.