My last bit of resistance melts. It's impossible to stay mad at her. I'm not sure Willow has a selfish bone in her body.
But that doesn't make this okay.
Still... "Have to admit, I'd have done the same thing."
She smiles. "And I'd have been pissed about it."
"I don't need anybody but you loving me."
"You have your mom and Pete."
"That's three times what I need."
"Drew loves you." She laughs. "He'd never admit it though."
"Then how do you know?"
"I just do. And Miles. And Meg and Kara. I'm not sure about Jess. She hasn't known you very long, but she seems fond of you." Her voice drops. "You've helped me move on from my past. I thought maybe I could do the same."
"I don't doubt your intentions, kid. But I don't want shit sprung on me."
"I know. I'm sorry." She slides her arms around my waist. "I'm glad you're here. I thought I lost you."
"Never." I take her hand and bring it to the tattoo on my hip. "This is forever." I point to her wedding ring. "This too."
"You promise?"
"Course."
She looks up at me. "Do you remember that night I was trying to leave your bed, and you pulled me close and asked me to promise not to leave you?"
"That was the first night you blew me."
She blushes. "I'm trying to be romantic."
"You asked me to come in your mouth."
She laughs. "That's true."
"You said please." Fuck, that was hot.
"That's also true."
"Fuck, you're giving me ideas."
Her voice drops to something sensual. "I like all your ideas."
"Here?"
She nods. "Unless you want more time to yourself to think."
"No."
"You don't want space?"
"Not from you."
She raises to her toes and presses her lips to mine. Relief floods my lips as I kiss her back.
She's mine.
Whatever happens, she's always mine.
When the kiss breaks, she stares deeply into my eyes. "I was terrified I lost you. I'm not sure I can survive without you. You're my oxygen. I can't believe I did anything to risk that." She runs her fingers through my hair. "If you don't want to meet Liberty again, that's okay. As long as I don't lose you."
"Never."
She tugs at my t-shirt. "Promise again."
"Never, kid. You'll have to try a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me." I run my fingers through her hair. It's hard to think anything besides how much I want her body against mine, but I have to get this out. "Not sure if I'm ever gonna want to see Liberty again."
She nods. "We have a few days if you change your mind. And if not, that's okay. I sympathize with her, but you always come first."
"Now that isn't true."
She smiles. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah, but I'd like to demonstrate what it's like when you come first."
She nods. "Please."
"Say it again."
"Please, Tom. I need you."
Fuck.
I kiss her and the rest of the world melts away.
***
Back in the hotel room, I order breakfast for us. We shower together.
I used to hate it when women felt the need to jump in the shower with me. We were done with our relationship, and we didn't need to play house. Not like those women looked at me as anything but a shiny trophy, a rock star boyfriend to show off to their friends.
But damn, I love when Willow gets in the shower with me. Love running my fingers through her short hair. Love the way she squeals and fusses over me using the products for color-treated hair.
I especially love pressing my lips to her neck and running my hands over her wet skin.
No sense in wasting this opportunity. I hold her body against mine and stroke her to orgasm.
God damn, I love that part most of all.
By the time we're done, breakfast is waiting outside our door and it's cold.
We're wearing those ridiculous white plush robes, sitting on the couch and sharing everything. It's a standard spread—scrambled eggs with vegetables, fruit, toast.
She stirs sugar and almond milk—of course they have almond milk here—into her coffee and takes a long sip. "It's freezing."
"I wonder how that happened?"
She smiles. "Quite the mystery."
Her robe slips off her shoulder. It falls open enough to show off her chest tattoo and the tops of her breasts.
Damn, already getting ideas about having her again.
She spreads jam on her toast, rips it in half, and hands one piece to me. "Did you think about it at all?"
"When would I have thought about it—when I was fucking you on that stage or when I was getting you off in the shower?"
She blushes. "When we were walking back to our room."
I shake my head. "Was thinking about fucking you in the shower."
"You were not."
Okay, I wasn't. Truth is, I wasn't thinking much. Hard to think much after sex.
Her eyes meet mine. "Where's the convertible?"
"At the venue." I tear my half-piece of toast into quarters. "Shouldn't have bailed like that."
Her eyes fix on mine. "It was okay, but—" She shakes her head. Her wet hair lands over her cheeks. "Don't do it again. Please."
Damn, she's polite. She should tell me to go fuck myself for that. Shit she pulled was bad, but nothing excuses leaving her stranded at some random diner.
Her gaze goes to her wedding ring. "You don't have to decide now."
"Don't have anything pleasant to say to that woman."
She nods. "We don't have to talk about. We don't have to talk at all."
"Yeah?"
She laughs. "I meant something like watch a movie, but we can do that too." Her eyes meet mine. "You're more insatiable than usual."
"Don't like feeling distance between us."
"Do you feel distance right now?"
I nod. "This is between us."
"Yeah." She chews and swallows a bite of her toast. Her eyes meet mine then they're back on her food. She hides behind her coffee cup. "That ball is in your court, sweetie. It's whatever you want to do."
"You really think something positive can come out of me talking to my biological mother?"
"If you're open-minded about it."
Quite a fucking if.
She finishes her coffee and refills it from the pot. Her fingertips curl around the handle, but she doesn't pick it up. She stares at it.
I take a sip of my coffee. This means a lot to her.
It's really hard to get my thoughts to do anything but scream no fucking way. I never thought I'd see my mother again. Never wanted to.
Mostly, I remember her high. But there are a few bits and pieces before she started doing drugs. Before she started dating another loser who hit her or me. She’s a magnet for that type of guy.
I never compared her to Willow. Not for a second. Willow was a kid with a warped idea of what love is. She didn't have a kid she had to protect.
But it's not like my mother asked her boyfriend to hit her.
It's not like it was her fault.
Of course Willow empathizes.
She's a good person. A hell of a lot better person than I am.
She looks up at me. "Maybe I'm wrong about Liberty, but she really seems like she's turned her life around. And she really seems sorry and like she wants to know you now. If you think you'll get something out of hearing how much she regrets what happened... then yeah, you should meet her. But if it's only going to stir up old pain, then I'll tell her it's not happening." She traces the handle of her coffee cup. "I only want to help close that wound that still hurts you."
What the hell is she talking about?
"You still don't quite believe you're worthy of love." She scoots closer. "Which is ridiculous, because you're the greatest person I've ever met."
"Must not have met many people."
"I've met enough." She rests her head on my shoulder. Her voice is low, needy. "I still can't believe my luck that you're my husband."
I run my fingers through her hair until she's purring. "Okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. But not a surprise this time."
She nods.
"No more surprises unless they involve you naked."
"What about me in lingerie?" she teases.
"I can live with that." Getting all sorts of fucking ideas about that.
"I'll arrange it later. For the day after tomorrow." She looks up at me. "You're all mine tomorrow."
"What if someone else needs me?"
"Too bad. I need you." She presses her lips to my cheek. "I'll lock you in this room if I have to."
Can't complain about my wife locking us in our hotel room.
Fuck, I should throw away the key right now.
"Sounds like it's a plan." She smiles. "I suppose you'll need your strength. You should eat."
I do.
We talk about nothing as we finish breakfast. I'm about ready to practice being locked in this room when there's a knock on the door.
Room service always announces themselves.
So who is that?
"I'll get it." Willow pushes herself up. She cinches her robe then answers.
Of course, it's my brother and his fiancée. They have that just-fucked look about them.
The always have that just-fucked look about them.
Pete smiles at Willow. "Told you it would be fine."
She nods. "Thanks for your help."
Jess brushes her blond hair behind her shoulder. "Hey Tom, Willow. You look cozy. Sorry about before." She blushes.
"Don't worry about it, baby." Pete slides his arm around her waist and pulls her closer. "Only gave Willow ideas." He winks.
Now, Willow is blushing.
Pete chuckles. He's too good at this shit.
"We're meeting Mom for dinner tonight. You guys have to come," Pete says. "After you come."
"Why are you so interested in other people's sex lives?" I ask.
"Yeah, I'm the one overly invested in other people's lives." Pete shakes his head. He looks to Willow. "You believe this shit?"
"He might have a point here, sweetie," Jess says.
"That's cold. You gonna make that up to me?" he asks.
"You guys want something besides exhibitionist thrills?" I ask.
"Love you too." Pete blows me a kiss.
Willow looks at me. "I think they want to confirm this dinner thing."
"Yeah. Dinner. Sure," I say.
"Be nice." Willow mouths, please. "I went to Pete when I couldn't find you. He knew where you'd be."
Shit, guess I do owe him one. Hate to admit that relationships have stolen a lot of the time my brother and I used to spend together. Last few months were the first time we'd lived apart since Ophelia adopted him.
"Thanks for that," I say.
He replies with his usual nod. "One more thing." He reaches for something—a shiny pink gift bag, the same shade as Willow's hair.
Jess claps her hands together. "It does match really well." She smiles. "This is for you guys." She turns back to him. "An early Christmas present?"
He chuckles. "Yeah."
"Enjoy." She hands it to Willow then turns back to Pete. "Can my early Christmas present be you wearing your glasses twenty-four seven?"
He shakes his head. "They'll get in the way."
She murmurers something and presses her lips to his.
Okay, that's enough of that.
"Come on, kid. They'll do this all day." I motion for Willow to come inside then I nod goodbye to Pete and Jess. "It's how they get their jollies."
She laughs, but she still nods goodbye and closes the door.
Willow sets the hot pink gift back on the table.
"Is it from Pete or both of them?" I ask.
She looks at it. "No card. Hard to say."
Damn. Not sure I want to know what it is if it's from him. But there's no time like the present. "Open it."
She smiles. "Yay, I love gifts!"
I laugh. God damn, I love the joy in her expression.
She pulls the hot pink tissue from the bag, reaches inside, and pulls out a box.
A box of bondage restraints.
Oh fuck.
She pulls a sticky note off the front and reads it. "Trust me, you don't want your old restraints back." Willow laughs. "Not that I doubted he was using them."
I raise a brow.
She shakes her head. "Nothing important." She studies the box. It's a full kit—blindfold, handcuffs, under the bed restraints. "I know I was skittish about it at first, but if you want to tie me up, I'm game."
She looks up at me and her eyes light up.
Fuck, my cheeks are burning.
Her mouth drops open. "You're blushing."
"Yeah."
"You never blush."
God damn, I am blushing. My cheeks are burning.
"Why?" She moves closer. "You're not shy about anything."
She's right. I'm not shy about anything. Usually.
But right now, my gaze won't budge from the floor. "I don't want to tie you up. I'm not against the idea. Not at all. But I..." I clear my throat. "I want you to tie me up."
She gasps.
Her eyes are as big as the fucking moon.
I run my hand through my hair. God damn, this must be how other people feel all the time, all nervous and vulnerable. It would be awful with anybody else. But with her, it's tolerable. It's almost nice. "If you're into it."
God damn it, I must be red. I finally manage to look my wife in the eyes. Her face is lit up with enthusiasm. She bites her lip.
Her pupils dilate. "I want to."
"You sure?"
Her voice lifts. "Positive. You want to do it now?"
Fuck, I'm already getting hard. I nod. "Now is good."
Her gaze goes to my crotch. "Now is very good."
Chapter Thirty-Three
Willow
The woman staring back at me in the mirror is some other version of myself. Her eyes are lined with black. Her lips are red. Her black lingerie does amazing things to her broad shoulders and slim hips.
The woman is a sex goddess.
I'm a sex goddess.
Or at least, I want to be one. Tom always makes me feel like the sexiest woman in the universe, but usually, he's the one leading. Usually, he insists on it.
This time, I'm leading. I'm more than leading. I'm tying him to the bed and... well, I'm not sure what I'm doing after that.
I stare back into the mirror. I'm going to tie my husband to the bed and have my way with him.
I can do that.
My heart is beating hard enough I can feel it in my fingertips. I'm not sure I know how to do this. It can't be that complicated. Cassandra passed down a lot of trashy books. I skimmed the bondage scenes—I didn't exactly have a positive experience with a man forcing me to submit—but I got the gist of them.
It's not really about force. The submissive partner gets off on losing control, but he's the one in charge of the scenario. The dominant partner has to read him, to make sure he's getting off.
I'm not sure I'll be any good at it, but I want to try.
I want Tom to have every bit of pleasure in the world.
There's something appealing about the thought of him bending to my command. Usually, he's in charge of the entire universe. If I'm in charge of him... commanding the King of the Universe is a lot of power.
I check my reflection one more time for good measure. There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I look hot.
I can do this.
I really, really want to do this.
Deep breath.
I make my way to the bedroom. The lights are off but the curtains are open. The sun—it's already mid-afternoon—streams in through the windows. I can see the mountains off in the dist
ance. They're red, burnt orange even, against the bright blue sky.
The serenity of the view assures me.
The room is empty except for the bed, and that's got nothing on it but sheets, restraints, and Tom.
He's sitting at the edge of the bed, in his boxers, his feet planted on the floor. His eyes are on me. His eyes are wide with this amazing mix of enthusiasm and lust.
He presses his palms into the bed. He's already getting hard.
Damn, how I want that.
I want to watch his eyes roll back in his head as he comes.
I'm in control. I get to decide when he comes. And he doesn't come until I'm done enjoying the ride.
Heat pools in my core. I'm not sure if I can pull this off, but I'm starting to like the thought of it.
A lot.
"You sure about this?" I ask.
"Fuck yeah." He looks me up and down. "You look hot."
"I know." I slide into his lap, my knees planted outside his hips. I look him up and down. His lips are parted. His green eyes are hungry. I need that hunger. All of it. I make my voice confident. I'm in charge. "Kiss me."
His kiss is so intense I forget to breathe.
I can feel him getting harder. I grind my crotch against his as I slide my tongue around his. Dammit, that feels good.
I kiss him until I can't take it anymore. Then I take his hands and bring them to my chest. "Take off my bra." My voice is half-whisper, half-command.
Still, he obliges me. He groans as he slides my bra off my shoulders.
I bring my mouth to his ear, breathing hot and cold until he shudders. "Touch me."
I can't tie him up until he's touched me properly.
Tom's eyes stay on mine as he plays with my chest. There's no teasing today. He goes right to what he knows I like. His thumbs brush against my nipples lightly. Then harder. Harder.
Perfect.
I groan. "Don't stop."
Every touch sends another wave of pleasure to my core. It’s hard to believe I'm the one in charge when he's playing me like an instrument.
I let my eyes close and soak in sensations of his hands on my chest, his body against mine, his hard cock under me.
Tension builds in my core. It's difficult to think about anything but how badly I need to come.
Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade #5) Page 20
