Then, ten years after the first time, I kiss the woman I’ve loved my entire life. Pulling the nape of her neck toward me, I hold her close as I crush my lips to hers.
She tastes better than I remember. Her lips, full and wanting, part for me. Her tongue slides into my mouth as our kiss deepens, a soft moan slipping out of her.
With her arms around my neck and her body rocking against mine, it’s almost too much for me to handle. Her kiss alone would send me over the edge, and feeling her body pressed against mine is making my head spin. I tangle my fingers into her hair and pull her closer, kissing her with the heat and passion that have been missing from my life.
Her hand goes on an exploratory mission between us, running over my chest and stomach, and coming to a stop between my legs. I growl, nipping at her bottom lip.
“Willow,” I whisper.
“Don’t push me away.”
She stares into my eyes and my heart thumps in my chest. Blue meets gray, and our souls open up for each other.
This is where I was meant to be. All these years, I’ve been denying myself the one woman who could make my life complete.
Not anymore.
17
Willow
Fire swirls in my belly, roaring through my veins as I kiss Sacha. His hands feel like magic as he lets them drift up under my dress. I’m his, completely.
Always have been.
My hips roll against Sacha’s as I run my fingers through his hair. I place my hands on his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart beneath them.
We look at each other, saying a million things without speaking a word.
I never thought this moment would come. I feel like I did all those years ago, nervous and excited and wanting to give myself over to Sacha’s enchantment.
His thick, black lashes rim those unforgettable gray eyes. Amber swirls in their depths, calling out to the carnal side of me. His fingers sink into my legs, teasing the edge of my panties. His thumbs drift to the insides of my thighs, and my body screams. Aches. Needs.
“Willow,” he says again, speaking my name like it pains him. “I don’t want to rush this. I want to take it slow.”
I pause, staring into his eyes. My gaze drops to his glistening lips, and all I want to do is press mine against them again. My body is one aching burn.
Taking it slow isn’t something that appeals to me.
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because you deserve it.”
“It sounds more like a punishment than a reward.”
Sacha’s eyes flash, and excitement curls in the pit of my stomach. Heat sparks between my thighs, sending a jolt of electricity up my spine. My skin tingles, and everywhere Sacha touches feels like it’s made of pure, white heat.
When he trails his hand up my stomach to cup my breast, goose bumps erupt under my dress. My nipples pucker at his touch, poking through the thin fabric of my sundress. He runs his fingers over the sensitive pebble, watching as air escapes my lips in a soft gasp.
Then, without warning, Sacha picks me up. He throws a couch cushion on the floor and lays me down, flipping my dress up to my waist and spreading my thighs.
Need rips through me like a wildfire. Soft currents of air send more shivers through my body, only intensified by the look on Sacha’s face.
When he drags my panties down my legs and throws them over his shoulder, I think I might melt into a puddle right here on the floor.
But when his lips press a soft kiss against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, I release a sigh that was ten years in the making. Sacha lets out a low growl, and I know exactly what it means.
It means he’s been waiting for this, too. Dreaming. Wishing. Hoping.
The flat of his tongue drags up through my slit, and I gasp. He spreads my thighs and devours me, right there on my living room floor. His tongue works magic between my thighs. His hands hold me in place, drifting over my skin as he kisses, tastes, ravishes.
Electricity sparks in my center as pressure builds in my core. I lift my head to watch him, letting my fingers tangle into his thick hair. My hips move of their own accord, begging him for more. I rock against his mouth, moaning as his tongue flicks against me.
When he slips his finger inside me, I can’t sit up anymore. I fall back on the cushion, riding a wave of lust and desire. Fireworks explode behind my eyelids as I squeeze my eyes shut, gasping at the pleasure Sacha delivers.
Then, he stops. His hand pulls away and his lips leave an aching void between my legs. I peel my eyes open to see him propped up, staring at me with fire in his eyes.
“You taste incredible, Willow.”
“Why did you stop?” I whine, unable to keep the complaint from my voice.
A wicked grin spreads over his face as his eyebrow arches. Sinful lust snakes through my body, making my need for him grow.
“Do you want me to keep going?” His finger drifts against my slit, teasing. He brings it up near my clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves begging to be touched. I need release. I need his mouth, his hands, his everything.
But he doesn’t touch it. Laying his hand flat against my center, Sacha lays a soft kiss on the crook of my hip.
“I asked you a question,” he growls, lifting his grays up to meet my blues.
“Yes,” I gasp. “I want you.”
“Ask me nicely.” The wicked grin is back, and his fingers slide down between my legs again.
I’m dripping. I writhe under his touch, moaning for more.
“Please, Sacha,” I whisper.
“That’s better.” His finger finds my opening. “Say it again. I want to hear my name on your lips when you come.”
His words are almost enough to send me over the edge. His fingers tease me, circling around my opening and ignoring my begging clit. I moan, rolling my hips toward him.
“Please, Sacha. Make me come.”
A growl rumbles through Sacha’s chest as he drops his lips again, giving me what I need. His tongue swirls around my bud as his fingers drive inside me.
After that, I don’t know what he does. All I know is that there’s fire in my center and pleasure flooding my veins. My body trembles as he brings me to the edge.
He pauses again, for just a second, breathing cool air over my clit as I groan plaintively. Not again. I can’t take him stopping again. I need him to keep going. I need him to put his tongue on me. His lips on me. His hands on me.
I need it.
I need him.
“Sacha,” I moan.
That earns me my reward. I say his name again, twisting my hands into his hair as I grind against his face. His name tastes sweet as I scream it out, bucking my hips against his touch as my orgasm crests and crashes into me. The edges of my vision blur as I pant his name, knowing it’s the only name that has ever mattered.
Sacha. Sacha. Sacha.
Another wave of pleasure hits me as he devours me, delivering pleasure like I’ve never felt before.
Is this what I’ve been missing? Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?
I moan again, trembling at his touch as my body goes limp, broken and boneless on the floor. Sacha lets out a low moan, pressing a soft kiss to my thigh and crawling up toward my face. He trails his lips over my stomach, my chest, and up the column of my neck.
When he kisses my lips, I taste myself on them. I never thought I’d enjoy that, but I deepen the kiss and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Embers still burn in my veins as I squeeze my thighs together, the echo of my orgasm sounding through my body.
“Sacha,” I breathe. “That was incredible.”
“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for years,” he says, lying beside me. His fingers draw slow circles over my shoulder, twirling into my hair and teasing the edge of my breast. I shiver, smiling at his touch.
I want him to feel like this. I want to share this pleasure with the man who stole my heart and make him feel exactly as I do.
But when I reach down be
tween his legs, he catches my hand and brings it up to his lips.
“No,” he says softly. “Not yet.”
“I want to make you feel good,” I say, wide-eyed.
Soft gray stares back at me as a smile tugs his lips. He kisses my fingers again, shaking his head. “You already have.”
18
Sacha
It takes all my willpower to push Willow’s palm away from my crotch. My cock strains in protest. It knows that release would be sweet coming from her hand.
Willow’s too good to rush. I didn’t even think I’d see her when I came back to Woodvale, let alone kiss her, or do anything more.
There are too many things going on right now, and I need to get my head straight. I don’t want to hurt her. Not again.
She sighs against me, still lying on the couch cushion I threw on the floor. I let my fingers drift over her silky skin, tracing patterns over her body that mean nothing to anyone but us.
“Hey, Frogface?”
Her lips tug, but her eyes remain closed. “Yeah?”
“Do you believe in forever?”
Her eyes open. Sapphires stare back at me for a moment before Willow lets out a sigh. She rolls onto her back, looking up at the ceiling.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you help people get married for a living. You must like the idea of forever.”
“Forever’s a long time. Mostly I like the money.”
Her words sting, and I’m not sure why. She glances at me, nudging me with her elbow. “Have you gone soft, living in New York City? I thought that place was supposed to be rough.”
I grin, shaking my head. “I was thinking about my parents. I never thought they loved each other, but seeing my mom today…I think maybe she did love him. Maybe she thought about forever.”
“Love is strange. It makes you look past the bad and hope for better, even when everything goes wrong. It makes you forgive when you should walk away, and it makes you keep trying when you should give up. It’s not logical.”
“No.” I sigh, staring at the way her lips move.
“What about you? Do you believe in a forever kind of love?”
“You never gave me a straight answer, and now you’re asking me to spill my guts?” I grin, twisting a piece of her hair around my finger.
Willow laughs, shaking her head. “Fine. I think…yes. I believe in that kind of love. What else is there to believe in? But I don’t think everyone gets it, and I don’t think everyone deserves it.” She looks at me, her eyes digging deep into the dungeon of my soul. “But I also think that giving love is just as good as receiving it, and a lot of people either refuse to admit that, or they just forget that it’s true.”
“I don’t know if I believe in love. Not in the way they show it in the movies,” I say. There’s a but hanging on the tip of my tongue.
But I could change my mind.
But I could be wrong.
But I could be in love with you.
Willow smiles, turning her body to face mine. She rests her hand on my chest, crawling it up to stroke my collarbone. “Just because it isn’t like the movies doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“I think you enjoy watching people get married, but you pretend you don’t care.”
“Is that right?” Her eyes flash.
“Mm-hmm.” I nod. “You’ve always been a hopeless romantic at heart.”
“And you’re sure of that, are you?”
“Why else would you be attracted to me?”
She laughs, and the sound soothes a part of my heart that has ached for a long time.
“I guess that’s pretty hopeless, isn’t it?” Her eyebrow arches as a smile tugs her lips.
She’s right, of course. There’s nothing in our pasts that would tell her that loving me is a good idea. I pushed her away. I left. I stayed gone.
Until now.
But when I wrap my arms around Willow and pull her close to my chest, it doesn’t feel hopeless. When I press my lips to hers and think of making love to her the way she deserves, it doesn’t feel like it’s the wrong thing to do.
All the bitterness I’ve carried seems to fade away when she’s in my arms. Willow Wise makes me believe in love, and even though I can’t say it out loud, I know I’ve already fallen for her.
Hell, I’ve never gotten up from falling for her. She’s had me flat on the ground for years.
A lump forms in my throat as emotion thickens inside me. Should I tell her how I feel? It’s the wrong time, surely. I don’t even know how long I’m going to be in town. There are still so many things she doesn’t know.
Whatever flame is burning between us—does it have a future?
Before my thoughts consume me, Willow jumps up and holds out her hand. “Come on,” she says. “We’re going for a walk.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. I can hear your mind buzzing from here. You need some fresh air.” A grin sweeps over her lips. “I would say you need an orgasm, but you seem to enjoy denying yourself one of life’s great pleasures, so a walk will have to do.”
Late summer afternoons bring back another wave of memories. We walk through the streets, and I let Willow guide me toward the east end of town. We use small side roads, ducking in and out of pathways through trees and parks to avoid the busy, brightly lit arteries that cross through the city.
Silent peacefulness soothes me, and Willow is the perfect companion. It’s not until we turn down a familiar dirt path that a smile stretches my lips.
I know where we’re going.
“Is it still there?” I ask.
Willow grins, nodding down the path. “Only one way to find out.”
The woods are more overgrown than I remember, but they’re familiar. The trees groan in the soft breeze as if to greet us, their mossy trunks emitting soft aromas all around us. I hold Willow’s hand in mine, feeling the tightness in my body ease a little bit more.
Every minute I spend with her, I feel more comfortable in my own skin. It’s like I’ve been wound up tight my whole life, and I’m only realizing that it feels good to let go.
Willow speeds up as we head down the path, glancing at me with a grin. “We’re getting close.”
We turn one last bend in the path and are greeted by the giant bigleaf maple tree that dominated my youth. In its branches, a dilapidated treehouse is perched precariously. Willow lets out a laugh, shaking her head.
“I guess it was too much to ask for the treehouse to still be in working condition after all these years.”
“Looks dangerous.”
“I guess Dad didn’t really think we’d be wanting to climb up there when we were nearly thirty.”
She sighs wistfully, and then walks to the trunk of the tree. Willow runs her fingers around it, searching the trunk for the etching I made when we were kids. A soft squeak from her tells me she’s found it. I follow her to the far side of the tree.
SB + FF
She laughs, running her fingers through the grooves. “You couldn’t even use my real name.”
“Frogface is better.”
Willow sticks her tongue out, and I laugh, pulling her into my chest. I cage her against the wide trunk, dipping my chin down to kiss her sweet lips.
Vanilla and strawberries. Fairy dust. Magic.
That’s what she is. Willow Wise is the secret ingredient I’ve been missing, and it makes my heart ache to think that I’ve spent ten years without being able to kiss her. I press my chest against hers, kissing her with the strength of my emotion.
Love.
Because that’s what this is. That’s what it’s always been.
It’s high time I admitted it to myself. Truly, honestly acknowledged the law that has governed my existence since the beginning of time.
I’m in love with Willow Wise.
19
Sacha
Willow: 11
Sacha: 13
My feet swung off the edge of the treehouse as I laid on the w
ooden planks, staring at the branches above. My heartbeat had finally slowed down after the sprint from my house to this retreat in the maple tree, and I was left with an empty feeling in its place.
Father was mad. I didn’t like being in the house when he was like that. But here, surrounded by the soft sounds of the forest, I felt calm.
A bird sang somewhere above my head, and the trees rustled in response. I could almost hear the gurgling of the creek that ran all the way to the Wise house.
Then, another sound.
Footsteps, and a soft, girly voice singing to herself.
I sat up, frowning. Crouching at the edge of the treehouse, I peered over the side and craned my neck to see who was coming. As her voice grew louder, I knew who it was.
Frogface.
She skipped along the dirt path, running her hands over low-hanging leaves. I huffed, narrowing my eyes.
Whenever I wanted to be alone, she always showed up. My eyebrows drew together and I painted a snarl on my face, even though deep down, I didn’t really mind that she was here.
Her eyes moved up toward me as if they were pulled by magnets, landing right on my scowling face. She yelped and then giggled, running the last few steps to the tree trunk below.
“Sacha! Let the ladder down.”
“Why would I?”
“So I can come up, silly.”
“What if I don’t want you to come up?”
“That would be mean.” Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout, and the cruel part of me liked it.
I grinned. “Maybe I’m mean.”
“You’re not. I know you’re not.” Frogface crossed her arms, staring up at me with those big, blue bug eyes.
Something clicked in my chest, and I huffed out a sigh. I dropped the ladder down, but before she could climb up, I scampered down.
“You’re lucky I’m letting you in,” I said as my feet hit the ground.
Frogface arched an eyebrow and took a step toward me. I liked that she wasn’t scared of me. Even when I tried my best to be mean, she always stood up to me.
Shouldn’t Want You: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance Page 10
