Finding Willow (Hers)

by Dawn Robertson

  “Mind if I join you, babe?” What am I supposed to say to that? No?

  “Of course not. I could use someone to wash my back,” I tease as I flirt with him. He steps inside the tub and his sheer size makes the entire bathroom feel really fucking small. I’m sure he has this effect most places he goes. I want to laugh, but I don't when I feel his hands start to caress my shoulders. His big hands massage over my warm, red skin. He steps under the spray of the water and jumps.

  “Holy fuck, that is hot! What the hell?” I guess I’m going to be forced to turn the heat down just a little bit. “I didn't even know the old pipes in this building could churn out water that hot!”

  His comment spurs my interest.

  “Why would you be worried about the pipes of the motel?”

  He shrugs.

  “My parents bought it right before they died. Left it to me, River, and our other brother, Zane, who seems to be missing in action these days.” Another brother, huh?

  “Enough about all that. I just want to enjoy the last little bit of time I have with my girl.”

  “Your girl, huh?” I laugh and squirt some shampoo into my hands. I lather it through my short hair but his fingers take over.

  He lowers his mouth down to my ear before he answers me.

  “Of course you are my girl now, Star. You can't get rid of me that easily.” I turn toward him. The water washes the suds out of my hair as his lips crash down on mine. The kiss is full of possession. He is marking his territory. I am his, and only his. I don't mind it at all.

  My lips match his hunger, and my hands slip and slide all over his soaking wet body. He sucks the flesh of my neck in between his lips, roughly marking me for the world to see in his absence. This turns me on like nothing ever has before. The cave man in him rears its ugly head, and I am a goner. I want possessive Chrome more than anything.

  He lifts my body and I wrap my legs around his slippery body. Just as I feel the tip of his dick pressing against my cunt, I stop him.

  “Fuck. You need a condom. Hurry up.”

  I slide down his body as he places me on my feet in the tub. He’s back in a flash, condom already sheathed around his big dick and ready to pound into my cunt.

  He steps into the tub and we’re back in the same position in seconds. His body presses me up against the wall, as his hand guides his dick right inside me. With one hard thrust he is deep within my aching pussy. I missed the feeling of having him inside me. I could never get tired of his piercing rubbing all the right places inside me. My mouth finds his and my lips part letting his tongue explore the inside of my mouth. He moans and I can't help but moan right back as he pumps in and out of me. It feels so damn good.

  His hand slides up my stomach, across my tits, and stops once it is firmly wrapped around my throat. A little pain with my pleasure, and I am instantly in fucking heaven. Chrome continues fucking me like a madman as his grip around my throat tightens. The lightheaded feeling slowly creeps up on me. It’s been so long since someone pushed this hot button of mine, and I can't do anything but enjoy the moment as my body climbs to orgasm.

  “Oh fuck, you are so good. You like that, Star? You like how I fuck you? Like you are mine to keep?”

  I can't hold back anymore. I try, but once those words leave Chrome’s mouth, I’m done for. His grip tightens around my neck ever so slightly more. I gasp for air as the most intense orgasm I’ve had in years floods through my body. My nails dig into his muscular back, drawing blood while I cry out his name over and over again.

  “Fuck, Chrome! Fuck! I love your hands around my neck. Oh, baby,” I cheer him on, relishing the pleasure. No one has ever choked me outside of filming and it feels so fucking amazing. I know I’m a freak, but I am glad Chrome is the one bringing the freak out of me.

  “That's my girl,” he says as his pace quickens. My back slams against the wall again, and he presses deep inside me until his dick has no place else to go. His body quakes, and I feel him finding his own release. It’s moments like this that I hate condoms. I would do just about anything to feel him flooding my cunt. Marking his territory before he hits the road. Knowing I am completely his for the taking. I can only hope that he’s mine.

  His grip on me loosens and he gently brings me to my feet in the tub. We stare at each other for a few minutes before I return to my washing routine. He disposes of the condom and begins his own washing. We finish the shower in silence, despite my need to ask questions. Like where is he going? What is he going to be doing while he’s on the road? I’m pretty sure I don't want the answers. But I am curious.

  “I don't want you to leave. I was just getting used to having you around,” I admit as we eat breakfast at Maggie's. I feel like, for once in my life, I can actually be open and honest with a man. I feel safe with him.

  “I don't wanna go, either. I got my trip cut down to Wednesday, but that is still too fucking long.” He tosses a piece of bacon into his mouth.

  “What are you going to be doing? What is it you do exactly?” Curiosity killed the cat. One of these days, my need to learn new shit really is going to catch up with me in a fucking bad way. His face becomes dark and guarded. The carefree man who spent the morning with me is slowly fading, and I could kick myself in the ass for pushing him away.

  He places his fork down on the plate, picks up his cup of coffee, and takes a long sip.

  “Star, there are some things I just don't want you to know. It isn't because I don't care about you. Because I really do. More than I probably should. But the life I live is dangerous. I don't want you to get involved in the wrong way. I don't want you to look at me differently.”

  I want to laugh. Dangerous? Look at him differently? He’s talking to the fucking deep throat queen of the world.

  “I can respect that you don't want me to know. But just know I’m not going to look at you much differently. I have been into some bad shit over the years myself. You can't really say or do much to shock me.”

  I take a bite of my feta cheese omelet and wash it down with a gulp of apple juice. Which is pretty damn refreshing. I love this shit.

  “What’s your real name?” His question confuses me, and I give in to his unexpected round of twenty questions.

  “Starburst Bloom. You?”

  He looks dumbfounded. Is he really surprised my name is actually Star? Did he think it was my nickname, or porn name? I mean, seriously, most porn stars need a porn star name; I just got lucky enough to be born and raised with one. No need for the alter ego.

  “Promise you won't laugh at me?” He’s self-conscious and it is fucking cute. He doesn't want to tell me because he’s embarrassed that his parents saddled him with a shitty name, just like mine did.

  “My fucking name is Starburst, like a fucking candy or a cosmic occurrence. Do you really think I am going to laugh at you?” I laugh at myself. At the situation. It feels good to genuinely feel this good.

  “Atticus Holden Grant.” He doesn't make eye contact with me. He pushes some food around on his plate, then takes a bite, sneaking a peek through his dark eyelashes. I want to laugh at him because he’s acting like a kid, not because of his name.

  “That's hot.” As much as it sounds like a snob name, it actually fits his level of sexy. “And stop acting like a kid.” I laugh across the table and pick up the last bit of toast on my plate, popping it into my mouth.

  “What can I do to get you to stay in Woodstock?” he asks.

  “I don't think there is anything you can really do. Just let me figure things out. I may stay, but if I do, I am going to do it on my own terms.” I don't want to stay here because of a guy. I want to stay in Woodstock because I can make the life I need here. I want to stay because there is a reason to keep me hanging around. It is beautiful and quiet. It is the life I need while I continue my journey into recovery. Put the bad memories behind me, and work on making good ones.

  “We should leave. I want to spend some time with Scarlett before I head out. She always get
s emotional when I hit the road for a couple days.” It hurts him to leave her behind. I can see it all over his face. I don't blame him, because I know the hurt of leaving a child behind. Except my pain is deeper than a couple days.

  “If River needs any help while you’re gone, tell him he knows where to find me.” I would love to spend more time painting with Scarlett when she isn't in school. She really is a bright little girl. So childlike and full of life. It makes me crave the same lack of responsibilities.

  “Why don't you come over to the motel?” I ask Journey. We’ve been trying to make plans together since I rolled into town days ago, but shit just keeps getting in the way. Chrome left late last night. He stopped in for a quick breakfast before he hit the road. It was absolutely adorable. I wanted him to fuck me senseless against the wall, or in the shower again, but he just didn't have time.

  “What do you wanna do?” Journey asks. I’m not sure if she is going to be up for my adventure of the day, but I am sure going to give it a try. I don't really want to do it on my own anyway.

  “I was going to go look at a couple places for sale.” Yes, houses for sale. In Woodstock. Even if I don't decide to stay, it will be nice to own a little piece of quiet property in the Catskills. The houses here have a certain rustic beauty about them. I know it sounds incredibly fucking stupid, and borderline cliché, but seriously, I want one. I want a place I can call my own.

  “You are going to buy a house here?”

  “I didn't say that. I just want to go look. Come on, get your ass over here so we can head out. There is no way in hell I am coming over to that fucking house to pick you up.” Yes, a damn house. My parents finally got their shit together and live in a home without wheels! Miracle of miracles! I don't know what sparked the decision, but my sister certainly appreciates it. I think that is why she continues to stay with them. There is finally a small level of stability.

  “I'll see you in a few.” She disconnects the call, and I continue looking at the one house for sale that I truly want. It was my dream house as a little girl. I could picture a perfect Normal Rockwell Christmas scene playing out through the spacious glass windows that overlook the stream running through the backyard. I could see the deer grazing along the long driveway. It was a house that remained empty most of the time I was growing up. People would rent it as a vacation home, stay for a week or a month, and move on.

  I never knew who owned it, or why they didn't choose to live in it themselves, but I always wanted it to be mine. I don't know if I want to buy it or not, if it will still have the same appeal as it did when I was a kid. But I guess we will find out when we pull up the long gravel driveway.

  “This place is a fucking dive, Star.”

  Journey looks at me with disgust as we round the corner of the heavily wooded gravel driveway. Years upon years of neglect clearly show around the property. The lush vegetation has grown over most of the driveway. Only a small one lane path remains, allowing just enough room to get up to the house.

  The once beautiful wooden cabin is worn and old. Run down and dilapidated. Boards on the porch are missing and one of the windows on the side of the house leading into the grand room is broken. It hasn’t weathered well in the decade since I left Woodstock. In fact, it weathered just as well as I did.

  Broken and damaged. Unwanted and neglected. We have a lot in common.

  “It is beautiful, Journey. Full of a story to tell.”

  I get out of the car and walk up to the house. “Each piece of damage tells a story. The broken window, the missing boards, that crack in the pavement. It is all the story of this house.”

  She looks at me like I’m nuts. It is just a building. But to me, I can see myself in so many ways. I can see my own damage in each blemish.

  It needs work, a lot of fucking work. But so do I. Could I possibly heal while rebuilding the house I always dreamed of as a child? Can I have my happily ever after in the woods? I don't know. But its damaged beauty is just too much for me to pass by. It’s a rash decision, but I want this house. Damn the work to hell. If I have to hire a small army to fix it up, I will. This is my opportunity at something I have always wanted, lusted after. And damn it, I will fucking have it!

  “Whatever, Star.”

  She shrugs and continues looking around the property with me. It sprawls out over acres of land as far as the eye can see. The small stream still flows behind the house; pine trees line the back yard in rows. The fall leaves are changing color and falling all over the ground; it is so beautiful.

  “If you buy this place, does that mean you’re staying?” The excitement in her voice catches my attention, while I look at the small shed in the far corner of the yard. I turn around, and her face is bright with a smile.

  “Yeah, I guess that, if I buy this place, I will stay a bit. At least long enough to make it beautiful again.”

  Like that, the decision is made. I don't need long hours of planning or calls to Katy debating on whether or not to buy. I won't even call Seven for her input, because I know she’ll be completely against it. Her feelings for Woodstock will never change, whether I’m here or not.

  I type out a short email on my phone to Katy, detailing my instructions for her to purchase the property. No questions, cash sale, done deal. Whatever red tape needs to be handled, she will take care of it. That’s what I pay her for. No one is going to talk me out of this. This is my dream and I am going to make it fucking happen.

  As Journey and I pull down the driveway, heading to Maggie's for a sisterly lunch, my phone rings. Seven is on the other end and I cue it up to the Bluetooth system in the car and answer.

  “Yo, yo!” I’m in a good mood. A really damn good mood.

  “Someone sounds fucking chipper.” Seven is miserable. She has been for days. Ever since she started battling that nasty food poisoning over the weekend. I feel bad for her, because I have totally been there.

  “I am. What crawled up your ass and died?” I want to laugh, but I know it would only make her feel way worse than she already does. No need to add insult to injury, that’s for sure.

  “A fucking fetus.”

  “What did you just say? I want to make sure I heard you correctly.”

  I stop the car and throw it in park. I turn the volume up and listen carefully. Seven is silent on the other end of the phone. Like she doesn't want to repeat what she just said.

  “I'm pregnant.”

  And the world slips out from under me.

  “Please tell me it is Levi's.”

  Is that all I can fucking come up with? This isn't an episode of Maury; I really should be a supportive friend, but I am literally in shock.

  “Of course it is fucking Levi's, Star! God!” Her voice is getting louder and louder through the phone line. I want to laugh, but I don't.

  “So this means you aren't coming up here this weekend, huh?”

  I’m sad because I really wanted to see her. I am disappointed because I didn't want to face our families without her. She is the strong one in the equation. I don't want to face this without her. These bullshit family meetings are few and far between, but they always mimic a cage match. I don't want to go, but I will, because I’m a dumb fuck who just loves to take shit from the people who created me.

  “Nope. I just can't be in the car that long right now. I am throwing up shit I don't even remember eating. This is a fucking nightmare come true.” She never wanted kids, and I can only wonder how long it will be before she’s front and center at the abortion clinic. I want to ask, but I’m sure it is a touchy subject. She has to work this one out on her own. If she wants to talk about it, she will.

  “I hope you start to feel better soon, Seven. You need me to come back to the city?” I feel useless just sitting here waiting for Davis to call with more information on Willow. I’m wasting time.

  “You stay there and do whatever you’re doing. It is good for you; it’s what you need right now.” She’s right. If I went back to the city now, I’m sure I wo
uld get myself in trouble. There is just too much temptation to be able to stay clean and sober. Out here, I can crave a bump all I want. Because I can't find any. It is the best way for me to stay clean until the cravings start to finally subside.

  “Well, if you need anything, you better call me.”

  I can hear her gagging on the other end of the line. She mumbles something about going and the line goes dead. I feel for her, because I was there once. My hand rubs my empty stomach, and I frown. My mood is almost ruined when I realize how long it has been since Davis made contact. That probably means nothing but more bad news. They always say no news is good news, but in a situation like this, I just don't buy it.

  “Well, ain't that some shit,” Journey pipes up from the passenger seat. I completely forgot she was there for the entire conversation. I pray she doesn't run and tell Seven's damn parents, since they are all one big happy fucking family.

  “Don't you repeat a word you just heard. That was private, Journey. If she knew you were with me, she wouldn't have said anything.” I try to be as stern as I can, but it comes out ridiculous.

  “I won't. Don't worry. God. I totally don't wanna go to Maggie's for lunch, either. Wanna go for a drive to this little lunch place I found? Your treat, of course!”

  I can't help but laugh. Of course, my treat. I don't think this girl has worked a day in her life. I could use something besides Maggie's, too, because if we are being honest, diner food really isn't cutting it much anymore.

  “I wanna stop at the motel and grab a sweatshirt on the way. I thought I had one in the backseat.” I’m fucking freezing. I always forget how cold it is this time of year.

  I slow the car to make the turn into the normally quiet parking lot when I see someone standing at the door to my room. The person is familiar, and there aren't any cars in the parking lot. I continue driving, completely missing the turn. Journey looks at me funny, but doesn't say anything. I try to keep my eyes on the road, and watch the door of the room but safety wins out.