She flattened her tongue along the underside of his cock, then trailed it upward, repeating the motion over and over and over again. Then she sucked him in deep, swallowing his entire length, until he hit the back of her throat.
Harrison gripped the steering wheel so hard he thought he would break it. He trembled as Willow relaxed her jaws on the way down, and then hallowed them out on the way up, creating a suction that drove him out of his mind with need. He shoved his fingers in her hair and helped to guide her head up and down his cock, taking control of the rhythm.
“Just like that,” Harrison choked out past the lust clogging his throat. He pumped his hips, fucking her mouth with fevered thrusts, surging and surging and surging, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt the orgasm building at the base of his spine and figured he had no more than ten seconds before he erupted.
It only took five.
When Willow sucked hard once again, he exploded, his body releasing every drop of the pent-up desire he’d been storing away for months. She continued to hold him in her mouth, drinking him in until there was nothing left.
Harrison fell back against the seat, his chest heaving with the deep breaths he drew in.
“Wow. That felt like old times,” Willow said. She looked over at him and grinned. “I can’t believe I just blew you parked along a roadside in Italy. I need to put that on my bucket list just so I can check it off.”
Harrison would have thought he was too spent to laugh, but he managed a brief chuckle despite his fatigue. He looked over at her and wrapped his hand around her neck, bringing her to him and devouring her mouth. When he finally released her, he continued to hold on to her head, massaging the muscles of her neck with his fingers.
“What just happened here, Willow?”
“Is an explanation really necessary?” she asked, a skeptical arch to her brow.
“I know what happened,” he said. “But I need to know if I’m reading more into it than I should. Not that I don’t appreciate the roadside blowjob, but is that all that was, just a blowjob?”
She lifted her shoulders in a meek shrug. “Do we have to put a label on it?”
“Willow—”
“I don’t know, Harrison. I just… I wanted to touch you.” Her eyes softened as she reached over and cupped his jaw in her palm. “I miss touching you.”
He stared into her eyes. What he saw there revived some of the optimism his life had been lacking lately.
“You really do still love me, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” Willow said. She brushed her fingers along his jaw. “I will say it again and again and again until you believe it. In the midst of everything that’s gone sideways this past year, that is the one thing that has remained true. I’ve never stopped loving you, Harrison.”
The intense joy her words produced left him breathless as he leaned over again and connected his lips with hers. A part of him was afraid to trust the hopefulness cascading through his veins. But trust it he would. Finally—finally—he’d encountered a crack in the dome of uncertainty that had been hovering over their marriage. He wouldn’t stop until they’d shattered it to pieces.
A brisk wind filtered through the dense green leaves of the lemon trees that grew all around them, releasing a fresh burst of pungent citrus into the air. Willow drew in another deep breath, savoring the fragrant aroma. They’d once visited an orange grove in Florida while driving to Disney World a few years ago, but she didn’t recall it being this potent. There was a vibrancy to the air here in Sorrento that she couldn’t compare to anything she’d ever experienced.
Or maybe she was just seeing things differently now.
After that remarkable drive down the coast with Harrison this morning, the entire world seemed more vibrant, more full of life. Colors appeared brighter. The air felt lighter. For the first time in months, the knot that had been a constant in her stomach had started to untwine.
Harrison’s strong fingers clutched more securely around her hand as they meandered along the dirt path that sliced through the shady copse. He’d held onto her hand since they arrived, letting go only long enough to pay their entrance fee into the lemon grove. Holding hands seemed like such an insignificant thing, but the comfort it provide seeped into her bones, filling Willow with a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in far too long. No one else could ever make her feel this way. Only Harrison. He’d been the one constant in her life she could always turn to when she needed to feel safe.
She leaned in closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a squeeze.
“Thank you for indulging me yet again,” Willow said. “I know it isn’t the vineyard you’d wanted to visit today, but I’m loving this.”
“As long as you’re enjoying yourself. That’s all that matters.” He kissed the top of her head, then lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “So, is walking through lemon groves another bucket list item you never told me about, or are we being spontaneous again?”
“A little bit of both,” she answered with a smile.
They’d stopped in Naples for a late lunch, but when Willow realized Sorrento was just another hour’s drive down the coast, she insisted they continue on to the tiny coastal town, notable for the limoncello produced from its groves of lemon trees.
“It’s another of those things I’ve always wanted to do. We were so close. Why miss the opportunity?”
“You don’t have to convince me,” he said. “After our little roadside excursion on the side of the mountain, I’m all in when it comes to being spontaneous.”
A tremor of satisfaction coursed through her at the memory of what they’d done a few hours ago. When it came to making love to him with her mouth, it was all about how powerful it made her feel. She controlled every sigh he made, every lift of his hips. Watching Harrison receive pleasure, sensing how much he enjoyed it, had always meant more to her than the act itself.
Their flirting over these past couple of days harkened back to the time when they’d first started dating. Harrison may not remember it, but he’d been spontaneous back then too. Or maybe he’d been willing to do whatever she asked in hopes that it would lead to sex. Whatever the case, it had made for such romantic, carefree days. Their sole focus had been on making the other happy.
How long had it been since her husband’s happiness resided at the top of her priority list?
Too long.
Willow had slowly come to realize that her trepidation over this trip had been groundless. This wasn’t about finding a temporary fix for their broken marriage. It was a reminder of all she and Harrison used to share. Of what their love looked like before they allowed the stress of everyday life to creep in and suck the joy out of their marriage.
They’d grown apart because they’d allowed themselves to grow apart. It was as simple as that. She’d heard stories over the years from girlfriends and neighbors about how much work they had to put in to keep their relationships above water. She’d felt so lucky, smug even. She and Harrison never had to work at their marriage. It was perfect. Easy. No additional effort required.
Oh, how wrong you were.
No marriage was perfect. It had just taken theirs much longer to show wear and tear.
But being here with Harrison, having this time away for just the two of them in this incredibly romantic part of the world, it provided the first tiny step to getting back to the love that had always been there between them. It would take work, but as long as they were both willing to do their part, they would eventually get there.
The sound of birds chirping rang out, and for the third time in less than an hour, Harrison slipped his free hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He read whatever was on the screen, frowned, and slipped it back in.
“What’s going on?” Willow asked.
He sighed, then said, “Nothing.”
“Don’t even try that on me. That’s the third text you’ve gotten since we’ve been here. What time is it back home? Around nine a.m.? It must be pr
etty important if they’re texting you already.”
“It’s just work stuff,” he said.
“I figured that much,” she said, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “I thought you told LaKeshia to contact you only if it’s important?”
“I did.”
“So?”
He released another sigh and took his phone out again. He quickly typed up a message, hit send, and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.
“There,” he said. “I told her to let Jonathan handle anything else that comes up.”
Willow didn’t know LaKeshia Lawrence all that well, but she knew the woman was sharp as a tack. If she thought this emergency was something Jonathan could handle, she wouldn’t have bothered texting in the first place.
She nearly told him that she didn’t mind if he called the office, but then thought better of it. She did mind. This was their time. The nature of his job required he work more than the average forty-hour work week, but he too often worked twice that many hours. To be honest, Willow was shocked that he’d managed to remain unplugged these past couple of days. If Harrison was willing to leave work behind, why would she allow it to intrude upon their vacation?
He’d always been a workaholic, especially back in those early days at Bossier, Guidry & Associates. Foolishly, Willow assumed his work life would become less chaotic when he joined Jonathan’s smaller firm. Until she realized how much the workload increased when it was dispersed between two lawyers instead of two hundred.
Yet, despite the ridiculous hours he sometimes put in at the job, he never skimped when it came to making time for his kids. Whether it was scouts with Athens or helping Lily with her English homework, she could count on Harrison to be there when their kids needed him.
But there were only so many hours in the day. And when he and Jonathan decided it was time to officially become partners, he’d started to devote even more of them to the job, which meant less time for just the two of them.
Her resentment over the time he put in at the office had been a source of conflict in her for so damn long. Guilt over it ate her up inside.
She knew Harrison was under a lot of pressure to perform. She also knew exactly what she was getting into when she married him. Her husband’s insatiable drive was one of the things that had first attracted her to him. He pushed himself harder than anyone she’d ever met, including her own mother, one of the hardest working people Willow had ever known. Her mother had worked hard all those years out of necessity. Harrison did it out of pure determination to succeed. It was part of his DNA.
Diane had once told her a story about a time a ten-year-old Harrison had been caught lying to the school librarian, claiming his father would take the belt to him if he didn’t get all A’s in school. It had been a bald-faced lie. He’d wanted extra time in the library to study and figured the librarian would take pity on him if she thought he’d get a whupping.
How could she resent his unrelenting ambition when the fruits of it provided such a comfortable roof over her head? It was her husband’s drive that put food in their children’s mouths, paid for the ridiculously expensive private schools they both attended, sent them on annual family trips and allowed them to donate to others in the community. Harrison’s uncompromising resolve to be the absolute best had provided a life for her that, as a young girl, Willow could never imagine she would be living. What right did she have to complain?
But what was the point of having this nice, comfortable life if they couldn’t enjoy it together? She’d so often considered telling him that she was willing to give up the big house and fancy car if it meant having him home more.
Willow had always thought it was selfish to want more of his time, but these past couple of days showed her that it wasn’t selfish. It was necessary. It was part of the work they would have to start putting into their marriage if they wanted it to last.
They returned to the entrance of the lemon grove and were treated to another shot of limoncello by the owners. They purchased several bottles of the tangy liqueur to bring back as gifts, then asked for recommendations for dinner. The owner’s daughter suggested a restaurant just up the road in the tiny city of Sant’Agnello.
Once there, they opted for an outside table, despite the chilly air rolling off the Bay of Naples. The breathtaking view of the bay and Mount Vesuvius was worth a few goosebumps.
After their hour-long dinner, Harrison suggested they be spontaneous again and check into the adjacent hotel instead of navigating the winding, narrow coastal roadway to the hotel Willow had looked up as a potential placed to stay on their drive down.
“You are doing well with this lesson in spontaneity, young grasshopper,” Willow teased as they made their way to their room.
“I’m trying to impress my lovely teacher,” Harrison answered, placing a kiss on her lips before holding the keycard up to the sensor on the door.
The moment they entered the room, Willow sensed that things were different. An unmistakeable expectation permeated the air, a confirmation of the shift that had taken place between them over the course of the day. Ignoring its significance would be foolish. Denying what she knew would happen tonight was pointless.
So she made the first move.
Without saying a word, Willow took the overnight bag from Harrison’s hand and dropped it onto the floor next to the door, then she guided him to the bed and pushed against his shoulders, urging him to sit.
Harrison looked up at her. “I guess we’re not easing into this, are we?”
“Nope.” She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s been too many months since I had you inside of me. I’m not easing into anything.”
She seized hold of his mouth, claiming it with a possessive hunger that left no question as to what she wanted.
Him. She wanted him.
Her heart pounded ferociously as searing need, sharp and fervent and all-consuming, pulsed through her veins. She wanted to devour him, to reacquaint herself with every inch of this amazing body she hadn’t explored in far too long.
She traced the seam of his lips before coaxing them open with her tongue, licking her way inside and feasting on his decadent flavor. Willow ground her pelvis against the growing bulge in his lap. She undulated her hips while pressing downward, groaning with the need to take her husband inside. Anticipation danced across her skin, her body primed for what was to come.
Harrison palmed her ass, gripping it a little too roughly, the tinge of pain quickly turning to pleasure as he smoothed his hands over her backside and along her hips. A familiar warmth began to spread throughout her body as his fingers inched inside her shirt and fanned across her belly. He moved upward, pulling the cups of her bra down and closing his hands over her breasts.
A strangled moan escaped as he pinched and plucked and drove her out of her mind. When he lifted the shirt over her head and closed his lips around her nipple, Willow had to clutch his shoulders to keep herself from falling clean off his lap. She pitched her head back and thrust her chest toward him, welcoming every tender nip and decadent suck.
She could already feel an orgasm building. Months of pent-up desire and need coalesced like kindling in her veins; hit her with the barest spark and she would go up in flames. As Harrison continued his pleasurable assault on her breasts, he unbuckled her jeans and pushed them down her hips. He fingered the lacy edge of her underwear before dipping his hand inside and brushing his thumb across her plump clit.
Willow’s blood caught fire.
He played with her swollen flesh, alternating between feather-light caresses and deepening strokes. When he eased two fingers inside her rapidly dampening center, Willow nearly lost it. She held his wrist steady as she rode his fingers hard, pumping her hips like a piston, taking him in as far as she could. Moments later she shattered around him, her climax hitting her with breath-stealing power.
Harrison wrapped his arm around her waist and twisted around on the bed. He quickly undressed h
er, then undressed himself before climbing on top of her and burying his face against her throat. He kissed his way up her neck and along her jawline, the caress of his soft, yet firm lips triggering tiny, pleasurable explosions all along her skin. When he closed in on her mouth, she practically inhaled him. She couldn’t get enough of his kiss.
Harrison wedged his hips between her thighs as he hungrily explored her mouth, his tongue hard and searching. Willow reveled in it all. The demanding thrusts of his tongue, the familiar, delicious burn in her thighs as she stretched her legs wide to make room for him, the intoxicating anticipation as she waited for the moment when his body would enter hers.
With his intense gaze holding her hostage, Harrison entered her with one smooth stroke.
A bolt of unrestrained pleasure shot through her, sending delicious tremors along her nerve-endings as sensual gratification seeped into her bones. Willow crossed her ankles at the small of his back and lifted her hips up to meet his thrusts. Every skillful, plunging stroke set off a new round of exquisite sensations.
Desire for her husband consumed her. Willow clutched him to her, sinking her nails into his back as she held on for dear life.
God, she’d missed this!
Every delicious slide of his thick, stiff flesh sparked a barrage of delicious memories. Years of generous, giving, selfless lovemaking. Years of Harrison being focused solely on her pleasure. How had she gone so long without this?
His mouth closed around her nipple as his deep, demanding strokes pushed her closer to the exquisite ecstasy that awaited her on the other side. He tempted and taunted her, bringing her so close to completion, only to pull back before she could reach it. She was at war with herself, aching for the release she knew he could give her, yet wanting this to last forever.
“Please,” Willow pleaded, unsure of what she was asking for.
Her husband knew.
He dipped his hand between them and ground his thumb against her center as his hips continued to pump. The intensity of the sensations crashing through her were unbearable. Willow teetered on the precipice of an orgasm, her stomach clenching as that feeling built up yet again.
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