"I don't see any glass. You were lucky. What were you doing?" He turned on the cold water and held her hand beneath it. She hissed. His lips tightened.
Standing so close to him in this small room was shattering her self-control. "It was an accident," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.
"Some accident. You could've done some serious damage." He surprised her as he brought up her hand and pressed his lips to the center of her palm. The tender kiss sent desire spiraling through her; electric shocks traveled up her arm and down past the pit of her stomach.
"J.W."
"So soft and delicate," he murmured.
His lips moved from her palm to her wrist, eventually centering on the intimate curve of her arm. She shivered as the moist tip of his tongue traced along the sensitive crease. The fingers of her hand instinctively curled inward. Erotic heat blinded her. Her other hand rose to caress his short, dark hair.
He straightened, before his head descended. He met and captured her lips. They parted for him and his tongue entered her mouth, darting and teasing. Her tongue mated with his, plunging back and forth, circling, dancing. He consumed her, bending her to him. His erection pressed against her pelvis. She ached to have him inside her, filling her. Unconsciously, her legs parted, urging him closer.
He groaned. His hands circled around her to cup the cheeks of her bottom, grinding her into him. Hot lava pulsed through her veins, settling between her legs. Primitive lust and a need so long denied, devoured her. She desired this man and no other had ever, or could ever, satisfy her.
Eyes closed, her skin responded to every caress. Everywhere his hands touched burned out of control. Then they were beneath her skirt, ripping away her white thong. She was slick with her need to have his cock inside her, filling every void and empty space in her body.
She was no match for the demands his mouth and tongue were calling from her. Her hands dropped to unbuckle the belt at his waist and unzip the front of his pants. In a moment she had freed his hard thick shaft. The fingers of her right hand clasped him. She slowly stroked his length. Willow heard his groan as he moved against the rhythm of her hand.
His hands were beneath her skirt squeezing and kneading her bottom. He brought her closer and his right hand traveled to the entrance of her vagina.
His tongue rimmed the inside of her lips, then he scattered light kisses along the curve of her neck. At the same time, she felt his fingers circle her clit before parting her labia lips--testing, pleasuring. His fingers dipped into her vagina, and she gasped at their invasion.
"You're so tight. Hot. Wet. Tell me you want this." His words were low and ragged. His fingers stopped moving. She looked up into his eyes.
"Tell me you want this, Willow. Are you protected? I don't want to hurt you. I'll stop if want me to."
Willow was mindless with need. "Yes, I want this. Yes, I'm protected. Please," she begged. "I need to feel you inside me. Now." Willow released him and reached up, pulling his head down. She feathered kisses along his hard jaw. She needed to taste him, to draw on the elixir that was J.W.
His fingers again entered her, filling her, and moving in and out of her slick heat. His thumb massaging her clit had her rubbing against him, reaching for release. He played the instrument that was her body to perfection.
He slid his fingers out. His hands moved up her body, dragging her skirt with them. He lifted her and Willow wound herself around him. Slowly he brought her down on the head of his hot, thick erection. Her legs wrapped around his body, leaving her open to his probing. She gasped as he entered her, pleasure spiraling. He stretched her slowly, groaning as he penetrated deeper and deeper inside her.
"You feel so good. You're so damned tight. Are you okay? I don't want to hurt you."
"Don't stop. I need you deeper." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and thrust against him harder, arching to take him more fully inside her. She needed to taste him. Willow unbuttoned his shirt and frantically pushed it aside, giving her access to his shoulder and neck. The salty taste drove her to the edge of mindlessness.
J.W. moved a step and Willow felt the wall against her back. He was lodged deep inside. He was still, as she adjusted to his presence.
"You're mine, Willow MacKenzie." Unhurriedly he withdrew, until only the tip teased her swollen lips, then he lunged and impaled her long and deep. "You always have been, and you always will be."
She growled deep and low, clasping him to her. "Oh God, I need you harder and deeper. I need to feel every inch of you."
Again he thrust. In and Out. Slow and hot. Deeper and more powerfully each time. His rhythm was a perfect accompaniment to her burning desire. Sweat beaded her skin.
The music inside her crescendoed. A toccata, full, high, and free carried her higher. "J.W." It was a plea for release. He seemed to understand her body's responses. He powered faster and faster, then plunged deep and held tight as his seed filled her. His climax carried her to the edge of the maelstrom and dropped her into its swirling eye. Willow bit into his shoulder, turning her cries of release into muffled moans. J.W. hissed, but held her close, buried deep inside her.
She clung to him as the waves of pleasure slowly receded, returning her to reality. This was no fantasy, no dream. Her face felt hot and flushed, and sweat beaded her skin.
Willow opened her eyes and was shocked when she saw the angry red outline of her teeth against the skin of his shoulder.
"Oh, God, J.W., I'm sorry," she whispered.
He looked at her and a hand rose to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Don't worry about it." His breathing slowed and he withdrew from her body. She felt bereft. While he was inside her, Willow had, for the first time in years, been complete.
She lowered her legs. He released her only after her shaky legs steadied.
A knock at the door startled them.
"Occupied," J.W. called out.
Willow's heart thumped until she heard receding footsteps.
She didn't know what to say. Her hands tucked her blouse back into the waistband of her skirt, then pulled her skirt back into order. She saw her shredded thong lying on the floor. She started to bend to pick it up. J.W. was there before her. She watched as he stuffed it into his pocket without saying a word.
"I'll take you back to your motel." His words were quiet.
Willow could read nothing from his face.
"I can't walk back through that restaurant, J.W."
"Willow–" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You won't have to. There's a back door at the end of the hallway."
She breathed a sigh of relief. J.W. had also righted his clothing.
"Let me see your hand."
She hid it behind her back and shook her head. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Anyway, it's fine. It just stings a little. I'd appreciate it if you'd just take me back to the motel so I can change." She tried a half-hearted smile. "Can't go showing up at the lawyer's office bare-assed, now can I?"
J.W.'s eyes glittered with an emotion she couldn't put a name to. He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead just turned and unlocked the door. "Right. Okay then. I'll get you back to the motel."
There was so much they hadn't said to each other, so much that needed to be said.
The short journey to the motel was made in silence. Before she could get out of his truck, J.W. laid a hand on her arm. She looked up, questioningly. "We need to talk."
"Yes, I agree. It's long past time."
He hesitated. "You never answered my questions last night."
She could see it ate at him. It hurt that he had even asked. "Maybe you didn't ask the right questions," she bit out. "Just a thought, J.W., but if you really believe I'm some kind of prostitute, I'm surprised you didn't use a condom just now. Aren't you afraid of catching something? You might want to think about that." She yanked her arm from his grasp and leaped from the truck.
Willow admitted to herself that this man continued to hold her heart and always would
. But she needed him to believe in her or it would never be right.
* * * *
Her visit to the attorney's office was brief. Her mother's house belonged to Willow outright. Willow had been Moira MacKenzie's only heir. Mr. Garber told her that her mother had chosen to be cremated and her ashes scattered, no ceremony. He handed her a white envelope addressed to Willow which she put in her purse. She would read it in privacy later.
Willow now sat behind the wheel of her car staring at the old farmhouse, dealing with reawakened, painful memories. It sat on ten acres of land just outside Esmerelda. Her stomach clenched at the thought of once more walking through that front door. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car.
She was somewhat surprised that the door was unlocked, but then her mind centered on the ordeal before her. Facing these ghosts was part of why she had come.
The house was musty, but it had been closed for several months. There was a strange odor, which she couldn't put a name to. Ammonia, possibly? Odd. She moved down the hallway and stopped at the doorway to the living room.
The room remained unchanged. The echoing screams of Willow's nightmare filled her head.
She remembered feeling ill that night, her head fuzzy. Kenny Miller had come in. He had seemed solicitous. When she had complained of being dizzy, he helped her lay down on the couch. She didn't remember much beyond that point, except J.W. standing in the doorway with thunder on his face and rage reaching out to grab her. Her mother stood next to him in horrified silence. Willow hadn't understood what was happening. One minute she'd been fully clothed; the next she was clad in only her bra and panties with Kenny on top of her.
J.W. had yanked Kenny up and would have beaten him to death if her mother hadn't stopped him. Willow had tried to stand, but was unable to do so, having still felt lightheaded and dizzy. J.W. stood over her, yelling. She had been unable to make sense of his words. Something about being a tramp and a drug addict. He had stomped out, slamming the door and breaking her heart.
It was only later, once whatever drug had been in her system wore off, that her mother told her as much as she could about what J.W. and she had witnessed when they came in the house.
Willow had tried to contact J.W., but he refused to see her or talk to her. Finally, when he started dating Elizabeth Anthony, Willow turned tail and left town. She now realized she had been running from her memories, not toward her dreams. That was the problem. It's why she'd always felt a piece of her was missing. It was. It was here in Esmerelda. J.W. was that vitally important ingredient. This time, she was going to fight for him, whether he wanted her to or not.
She turned away from the living room and headed back to the front door. This house held nothing for her. It was what the future held that concerned her now.
"Well, hello there, Willow." Willow stopped dead, stiffened at the voice, and whirled around. Kenny Miller stood in the middle of the stairs, leering down at her. What was he doing here?
He was a changed man, emaciated, with stringy, long, dark hair, streaked with gray. Only a few years older than Willow, he appeared much older and haggard, obviously having lived a hard life.
His eyes were sunken and glowed with a feral, calculating stare.
"What are you doing here, Kenny?"
"Why your dear, old mom and I were pretty good friends. Bet you didn't know that, did you?"
Willow shook her head. She'd had no idea Kenny and her mother were even acquainted.
"You might say we were business partners of sorts."
By this time, he had reached the bottom of the stairs and was shuffling toward her. She started to turn to leave. She wanted no part of whatever Kenny Miller was up to. His hand snaked out and grabbed her upper arm in a tight grip.
"Not leaving so soon, are you? Let's get reacquainted." He pulled her into the living room. "Remember that night?"
Willow struggled against him. "Yes, Kenny, I remember. What do you want?" She tried to remove his hand from her arm, but it tightened, cutting off her circulation.
"Maybe I want us to finish what we started."
"We didn't start anything. You know that. I was ill."
"Tsk. Tsk. We were on our way until we got rudely interrupted."
He yanked her toward the couch and she lost her balance. As she fell, Kenny followed, pinning her beneath him. This was not happening. She tried to turn away, but was at a disadvantage to fight him. He had the leverage.
"Get off me, Kenny. I don't want you. I never did and you know it. Were you the one who drugged me?"
He grinned. His breath gagged her. "Sure you do, honey. Your mom would've wanted us to be together. She set it all up the last time. It wasn't me that gave you that little high."
She struggled against him. "You're lying, Kenny Miller."
"Oh, no. Your mom was into some pretty serious business. But she was just starting out back then."
Willow continued to struggle. She would not let him rape her without a fight. "What are you talking about?" If she could just keep him talking...
"Your mom was trying to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. You were keeping time with the sheriff's son and she needed to put a stop to that. She also wanted to try out a new meth recipe. You were the perfect test subject."
Willow's shock was so complete she stopped struggling. "What?"
"You heard me. She got rid of the sheriff's son and tested out her new brew, all in one fell swoop. She got a bonus when you left town." He pulled her toward him. "Now what I want is the key to the money and the recipe. I'm gonna set up shop myself."
Her anger gave her the strength to push him away and she leaped from the couch. She couldn't think straight. Her mother had betrayed her? Her mother had tried to destroy her life? Kenny tackled her from behind. Willow's knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Kenny was on her before she could move away.
"I'd stop right there, Kenny." The voice was soft and menacing. It came from the doorway. How was it lately that J.W. always managed to be there when she needed him most?
Kenny looked up into death. J.W.'s eyes gleamed with a murderous glare. Slowly, Kenny pulled back, hands in the air, and rose to his feet. "Now J.W., I don't want another broken nose. I didn't hear you come in."
"Obviously not. Step away from her. Now."
Kenny hastily stepped away from Willow. J.W. strode over and laid a gentle hand on Willow's arm and helped her up from the floor. A hand beneath her chin, he tipped her head back and studied her face intently. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
She was shaking, terrified, angry, and hurt, all at the same time. She shook her head no. "I'm fine. H-he didn't hurt me."
"You're sure? It would be my pleasure to take him apart for you." She saw J.W. send Kenny a feral smile that did not reach his hard, cobalt glare.
"Really, I'm fine." She looked up at him, trying to read his expression. How much had he heard? Her question must have been in her eyes.
"I heard enough. I'm sorry, Willow. It's not adequate, I know. I should've known better...that you wouldn't have done what I accused you of doing."
Kenny started to move toward the door. "Well...I think I'll just be--"
"Don't you move." J.W. spoke in what could only be called his best I'm-the-Sheriff-and-I'm-in-charge voice. J.W. turned back to Willow. "I have to take him in. It sounds like he's got some information we've been after for a long time. Will you be okay?"
She nodded her head. "I'm going back to the motel. I-I think I've seen everything I need to see here."
"Now wait a minute, J.W. I mean, Sheriff." Kenny was using his best whine voice.
It grated on Willow's nerves. She was sure it irritated J.W.
"Kenny, are you gonna make me handcuff you? Or are you going to come willingly? It's one or the other."
Willow could only assume Kenny realized it was over for him. He hung his head as tears started pouring down his cheeks. "I can't go much longer without finding a new source, J.W. I found Moira's stash that she kept fo
r emergencies, but that's just about gone. If you put me in jail, I'll die."
"Well, Kenny, I don't have much sympathy for you. You never should've started. You give me the answers I want, maybe we can make a deal, depending on how deep into it you are."
"But, J.W., if I give you the answers you want, I'll end up dead."
Willow watched as J.W. shrugged. "Well, Kenny, I'm sure if you have some decent information, we might come up with some way to protect your sorry ass. Now get moving."
J.W. turned to her. "Willow, I'll walk you out to your car, if you're sure you're done here."
Willow nodded. "Yes, I'm certainly finished here."
"Kenny, you try to bolt on me and make me chase you down, you won't like the result. Just walk out ahead of us to my truck. Where's your car?"
"In the back. In the shed."
"It'll be safe there. Get walking."
Kenny shuffled ahead of them as they walked out to the vehicles. Once J.W. had Kenny securely in the truck, he turned back to Willow.
"I have to get him down to the station and find out what he knows." He sounded apologetic.
"Yes." She nodded her head. "I understand that." She looked up at him. "But why where you out here? You didn't know he'd be in the house, did you?"
He sighed. "I came to talk to you. The same at the restaurant and at your motel room. It seems every time I try to talk to you I get...ahhh...sidetracked. Just seeing you blows everything else all to hell."
She smiled. "Yes, I've noticed." Willow felt the now familiar heat flood her body. She was wet again, wanting him. "It appears I have the same...ahhh...affliction."
He put both hands on her shoulders. "Don't leave town. I know that sounds like a cliché, but I mean it. We need to talk." A faint smile came to his lips. "Don't make me chase you down."
Heat coursed through her. "I won't leave, J.W. Maybe this time you'll ask the right questions."
His eyes glittered and he leaned down and kissed her hard and long, leaving her breathless and needy. He pivoted and strode away.
* * * *
Esmerelda's Secret (Esmerelda's Lovers Book 1) Page 2
