“We have a free pass, then. You can always ask Harrison to lend you his phone.” I smile and wink at her before finishing off the dishes.
IF ALL ELSE FAILS, SET HER ABLAZE
I like to think of myself as a hopeless romantic, with a dirty mind.
~ Hunter Everhart
Hunter
NO ONE IS sleeping tonight. After Grant’s visit and dinner, Willow withdrew from everyone. I wanted to soothe her, to love her, and to take the pain away. She didn’t let me or anyone else close to her. I remain awake, leaning against the wall outside her room waiting for a sign. A sign that she’s okay, or that she wants me nearby. It’s been a long night. The tension has increased now that everyone is supposed to be asleep. Listening to Grant Beesley Jr. talk about his family, set everyone on a state of alert.
We don’t know if Willow is going to lose her shit. I’m confident she won’t. Hazel asked for Harrison’s untraceable phone to make a phone call. We don’t know who or what happened, but afterward, she remained close to Fitz. In fact, she moved her sleeping bag to our room where my brothers are watching her. I think we’re all afraid she’s going to have a nervous breakdown. We knew almost everything about her. Yet she had kept a big chunk of her life a secret. It included living alone since she was sixteen. During high school, she worked part-time to compliment the stipend her parents sent.
She moved in with her grandfather after graduation to earn money because the neighbors who cared for her almost lost their home. She felt compelled to do something since they raised her. I recall seeing her tired from weekly traveling to North Carolina and back, staying up all night working on homework or the projects her grandfather assigned her. Yet, she never had money to spend on frivolous things.
“I’m saving for something special,” Hazel used to say.
Until the weekend when she traveled to San Francisco. It was her twenty-second birthday, and she decided to spend it in California with her friends. She came back the next morning broken. Ever since then, she’s had more time to spend with us and money to spend on herself.
The rustling coming from Willow’s room makes me turn. I rise and open the door. She’s sitting against the wall with her legs crossed. She’s tearing the pages of her journal. I push myself to enter the room and close the door behind me. The room smells like Willow. Coconut, flowers, and that sweet scent unique to her.
“Willow?”
She sets the journal on the floor, lifting her gaze. “What would you do if you were him?”
I take a step back, balancing from the force of her question.
“Who would you choose? Your daughters or her?”
“Both.” I don’t falter. “I would find a way to help my wife while being with my children. They would need at least one of us.”
Walking to her, I slide along the wall, sitting right beside the most confused woman. I feel her body shaking, and hear her soul screaming. “You’re you. Remember the way you protected your sister when you were children? You’ll be a fearless protector.”
I place my hand on her bare knee, caressing her leg, slowly driving it toward her core. “Stop thinking about a future that doesn’t exist yet, Willow. Concentrate on the present.” I take off my shirt, picking up one of the markers she’s using, and hand it to her. Instead of taking it, she climbs onto my lap. Her lips press against mine, they are firm, soft, needy, and rejecting. Everything she’s feeling is personified through them. Opening my mouth, I let every emotion inside, too. She sways her body, rubbing herself against by growing, hardening dick. Fuck, fuck. Be strong, don’t touch her.
That’s impossible. My hands start roaming her body—remembering every curve. She peels off her tank top, releasing her tits. Pushing herself closer to me, my hips roughly driving themselves faster and faster against her body. I outline the taut tips of her breasts with my tongue. My hands move downward, skimming either side of her body to the elastic of her shorts.
“Willow,” I say her name as a prayer, a confession, and defeat. “We shouldn’t.”
“I need this, Hunter. I need the peace I feel when you drive yourself deep inside me.” She moves from my lap, my body missing hers already. “I ache for you. Tonight, I’m giving myself a pass. I’m letting my emotions drive my body. Please.”
As I nod, she undresses and unbuttons my shorts, too. My erection bounces as she frees it. Climbing back on my lap, she centers herself over my hard erection, moving forward. “Tonight, I’m in charge,” she says as she slams her hips against mine, burying my shaft deep inside her.
“Fuck.” I grip her hips with my fingers driving myself even deeper. Her back arches, crying out along with me. Her hips move as she slides up and down, riding slowly. Every inch of me filling her tightness. Fuck, she’s so fucking wet, soft—like sliding inside of warm velvet. I’m close to losing my shit as the grip of her walls squeezes me hard. Our bodies are in exquisite harmony with one another. Soaring together, reaching for that peak.
“Touch me,” she orders. This version of Willow is making me fall apart. I stop myself. She needs to lose herself in the moment—I want to make the moment last forever. At least for the entire night while she’s driven by her passion.
My mouth sucks her nipples with tantalizing possessiveness. My hands slide across her belly, all the way down between her legs. Her eyes flutter open when I find her clit and rub it. I gasp as she grounds herself harder on to my pulsating cock. My free hand moves around her tight ass, I wet my thumb with her soaking juices and slip it into her pucker. She loves when I fill all of her. This would be complete if I could tell her how fucking crazy I am about her. How much I love her. That this time it isn’t an illusion. I have a dream for us and if she allows it—it could become everything.
Suddenly, her movements stop. Her eyes open. My hands freeze as she looks at me in a way I’ve never seen. Her eyes are bright, filled with life. “You’re thinking. It’s too much and too loud.”
“What?”
“I need you to stop thinking about it.” She climbs off my lap, walking to the long dresser that sat on the other side of the room. Resting her torso on it, she turns her face to me. “Write it while you fuck me.”
“Lose yourself inside me and let me lose myself inside you. Everything else can wait.”
She opens her legs; the scent of her arousal hangs in the air. Grabbing the marker, I move closer to her, fitting myself inside her. One arm wrapped around her waist, my fingers finding her clit. My right hand scribbling words. The ones I can’t say. Her inner muscles clamp around me.
“Don’t come yet, Willow,” I order her, pushing myself inside deeper.
Writing faster as I propose to her to spend the next millennium with me. Everything I haven’t told her.
I missed you when you weren’t around.
I need you constantly.
I want every day of the rest of my life with you.
I want to trace your body with my lips.
I want us to sink deep into each other.
I want to be inside of you.
I want to cuddle in bed.
I want to fight.
I want to have make-up sex.
I want to fall asleep with you by my side.
I want to be the reason why you smile.
I want to grow older with you.
I want to be the exception to your rules.
I want to be the person you will trust with your heart and your soul.
Because I love you all of you just as you are.
I place the marker on the table, changing my pace as I get ready to come apart. I pull out, flipping her around and pushing her against the wall. Her legs close around my waist; her arms hold onto my shoulders. Her walls grasp me tighter as she tosses her head back. Her body is shaking. The heat of her juices pouring onto my pelvis, making every muscle in my body vibrate. My core tightens, and I capture her mouth drinking her orgasm as my body vibrates. My cock jerks deep inside her. I feel it as we both fall apart, collapsing on the floor.<
br />
I hold onto her, waiting until she falls asleep. I move us to her sleeping bag, adjusting the blanket and molding her curves against my body.
“I love you,” I mumble against her ear, kissing her long neck. My eyes close, as I promise that this time nothing will tear me apart from her.
AFTER EFFECT
You wanted to dance, so I asked you to dance
But fear is in your soul.
Some people call it a one-night stand, but we can call it paradise.
~ Duran Duran
Willow
I HAVE NO idea what to expect after last night. I feel like this is the morning after. It can’t be. We are both living under the same roof. What should we call it? A one night. Are we dealing with the aftereffect today? Should we talk?
I can’t talk about it.
It was my fault. It was a careless request from a desperate woman who had written a hundred times, I need Hunter. Because I didn’t want to need him. I wanted to work through the need as a useless emotion. But no matter what I said—or wrote—the moment he entered the room I knew that everything I tried was pointless. I needed him throbbing inside me. To get intoxicated by the feel of his lips, the touch of his hands. I wanted him to set me on fire.
W were intense. Ablaze. We burned through the sky last night. We touched the highest peaks. But I saw it in his eyes. The need for more, of everything. Us. He was surrendering himself, hoping I’d do the same in exchange. I couldn’t handle those thoughts. Not last night when my mind housed too many negative emotions. Hunter, the paramount emotion I can’t handle, as it remains raw on the surface of my skin overshadowing everything. The man who also evokes all the emotions known to man. Falling asleep in his arms after the most intense declaration of love was bliss.
While thrusting himself deeper inside me, I realized he’s everything. He’s the sea of tranquility to my mind. The fucking storm that floods me with passion. He’s the madness to my clarity and the clarity to my madness. Everything makes sense. Except, my soul hides in fear. That senseless, ridiculous anxiety caused by my insecurities.
“We have things to do,” Harrison’s voice rumbles like distant thunder.
“I guess it’s time to wake up.” Hunter’s tone is deep and sinfully rich.
Turning to the left, our gazes meet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”
“Interrupt your internal chat?” He kisses my temple. “I wouldn’t dare. Do you regret it?”
He slams the question, my stomach feeling the full blow of the words. Shaking my head, I fire back, “Do you?”
“Nothing that’s happened between us is regrettable.” He closes his eyes for a second. I feel the fast thumping of his heart against my chest. “Not even when I had to leave you. We both needed time apart.”
“I know,” I mumble, last year the two of us were a mess. “Last night was powerful. But I’m not ready to discuss it. Is that okay?”
“Ah, last night. We can discuss it when we are home, and we can do a lot more.”
Home. Getting to do something for others is rewarding, but I could use my bed and my bathroom.
“I need a shower.” I squeeze my eyes tight, realizing the walls in here are paper thin. “God, everyone heard me last night.”
His lips capture mine, devouring me. “We are adults, Willow. Today, Fitz, Hazel, you, and I are going to the next town for a well-deserved shower.”
“We need to work.”
“It’s also work,” he says, rolling me to my back. Pressing his lips to mine, I feel the tingling heat flow across my body. In one swift, powerful thrust, he takes ownership of my body and my soul. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, conveying the fiercely urgent need of making me his.
“More,” I moan, I beg and with each sound as he fucks me harder, pushing me to the edge. Losing myself as we run up high.
Under blue and sunlit skies, the view was wondrous to behold. We are in the rooftop restaurant of the small hotel. In a town called Piranha. It’s thirty-miles west of where we are staying. From up here, I can see the trees, the flowers, the sea, and the swarm of busy people going about their day. The damp smell, combined with the scent of the rose arrangement sitting on our table makes me want to stay for a few more days.
Fitz and Hunter had a meeting with a law firm that will be in charge of the trust fund to finance the improvements for the town. In the meantime, Hazel and I stayed at the hotel to rest for a couple of hours and got some time for us.
“Are we going to visit them?” Hazel bites her lip, observing me and then shrugs. “We don’t have to do anything we don’t want, Willow.”
“What do you want?”
“World peace, to end world hunger,” she says, dead serious. She touches the base of her neck with her fingertips. “They’re our parents. Every person I met had a wonderful story about them.”
“But?” I cross my arms, leaning back in my chair waiting for the punch line.
“I don’t know what to think.”
A pit of hopelessness opens in my stomach. Putting myself in my mother’s shoes, I try to imagine every step she has taken to picture the reaction and try to understand her actions. Some could be similar but others . . . My first instinct has always been to care for Hazel. No matter how hard things were, I always try my best to put her first. Because no matter how old she is, I still see her like that little, pink bundle that came home and needed love. How can Laila leave us for so long? I have a hunch that they stretched their trips longer and longer to stay away from us. She enjoyed the time without us. Loving us from afar is easier for her. There are no messy emotions to exchange. We don’t have to see our real mother.
“She doesn’t want to lose us.”
“What does that mean?” Hazel rests her hands on the iron table.
“Why did she leave the project?”
I explain my theory to her, repeating what Dad mentioned. “Mom abandoned us fearing that we’d abandon her.”
“Then, should we give her time?” Hazel’s eyes narrow. That logical head of hers is already working a plan. “We can share some of the books we’ve been reading with Dad. Maybe start a campaign where we convince him to send her to therapy.”
She claps, excitedly. “At least, that will show him we know that we’re learning how to love someone like her.” Hazel reaches out for my hand and squeezes it. “Though, I mess up from time to time.”
“We aren’t playing doctor, Hazel,” I warn her.
Rolling her eyes, she exhales. “I understand where your worry is coming from, but I only want to send her to a real doctor. She needs help. They aren’t as young as they used to be. They don’t have much money. They have to go back home at some point.”
“Home in Santa Cruz?” Hazel stares at me, not moving a muscle. My question hit some sensible spot. “Has anyone been there since you moved out?”
She shrugs, and I want to shake out all that information she holds from the years she lived there alone. When she told our father what she went through, I know we heard the edited version of the events. She claims to be doing great and moving on from her past. But why won’t she share more? I want that fucking more from her.
“Will you be okay if our parents go back to live there?” She looks at the horizon, not saying a word.
“It’s up to them where they decide to live.” She picks up her sunglasses, chewing the tip of the arm. “Maybe the McFees no longer live there. Maybe we’ll have to see them twice a year. It doesn’t matter.”
“I wish you’d trust me with what happened between the two of you.”
She laughs, and the sound is bitter. “I trust you. I’ve already told you several times. Elliot and I were young. I wanted so badly to be a McFee. I was scared he’d leave like our parents had. So when he asked me to marry him, I did.”
She starts crying and laughing. “God, I did because then he’d never leave. How stupid was I?” she mumbles between sobs. “He wouldn’t do what our parents had done, I told myself. He can’t—you
two are married forever. But he did. What hurts is that he knew about my past. He hated them for abandoning me . . . he knew better.”
There’s a long pause, and I’m tempted to ask questions. I don’t know which one is right or wrong. Instead, I wait for her to calm down.
“I called him last night.”
“What happened?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing, I remained silent while he said, hello five times. Then he said, ‘I’m here, baby. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. Tell me where you are, I’ll go to you right now.’” She swallows. “He didn’t hang up for a long time, and we remained silent. He knew it was me, and I needed him. Just like he knew when I was about to hang up because that’s when he said, ‘I miss you too, Bee.’”
“Why don’t you talk to him?”
She grabs a napkin and cleans her face. “I think he cheated,” she whispers, her voice miserable.
Her eyes remain on the water before they close. I wait for many, many beats for her.
“Of all the shit I have to work through, that’s the last piece.” She opens her eyes, touching her head. “As you know it’s a process. Things don’t happen overnight. Once I work through it, I’ll tell you everything. I’m a little embarrassed by what I did. I feel reckless. I did so much to please him, to help his family. He . . .” She sighs. “He was the best when we were together. That’s how I want to remember him.”
“You know what, Bee?” I say, taking something she just said and applying it to myself. “Once I work through all my issues, I’ll be ready to deal with Mom. Yesterday, what Dad came to say, that’s all I need for now.”
Hazel smiles. “Then, we wait. I love our parents, but you are my person. I care about you most of all. Until you’re ready, we will stay in our corner. I’m following your lead, Wills.”
All of You All of Me Page 21
