But there are times when I call in all the favors. Pull out all the stops. Socialites, millionaires and politicians. For one reason. Kids. Orphans more specifically. The gala was a huge success; for that I’m thankful...but events like that are exhausting to me. Both physically and mentally.
When the car pulls up outside the estate, she’s opening her door and out of the backseat before I can even get around to hold the door for her.
“Hey, Willow, slow down.” I chase after her as she walks up to the house. The wind is picking up and her dress billows behind her, a waterfall of green taunting as she evades me. I can’t help but be turned on. She looks like an angry goddess; even the weather mirrors her mood. Thunder booms in the distance.
Catching up to her, I see she’s headed for the side garden, not the house. “Willow, hey. What’s going on?” I reach for her arm, and she jerks it away, turning to look at me, and I see hurt in her eyes. Why?
“I just need a minute okay? I need to not be on display. I need to fall apart if that’s all right with you? I need to yell and maybe even cry without an audience. Without Scarlett. Without oil tycoons, duchesses and dukes watching me, judging me, appraising me.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask even though I think I know the answer.
Maybe Willow wasn’t ready. I thought it would be fun for her. Like a fairytale. What little girl didn’t want to grow up and go to a ball?
“Nothing Piers. I just said I need a minute. Why do you have to push?” she sighs.
“I’m not trying to push,” I confess. “Is this about Scarlett?” I know tonight was overwhelming, but I think she was the final straw.
“This isn’t about Scarlett. This is about us!”
She throws her hands up as thunder rumbles in the sky, a storm approaching.
“Like hell it isn’t. You were fine tonight until she said something to you. And I want to know right now what it was.” I’m beyond pissed at Scarlett for her meddling ways. She can’t just leave well enough alone.
“It’s not important. It’s just, she knows everything about you, us, me...will it always be this way? Her in the middle of our lives? Will she always be fighting for your attention? For your affection? Just like when we were kids.”
“She’s just my friend, my business colleague. This has nothing to do with affection.” Why would she think...Scarlett and me. Me and Scarlett. Oh, no. Hell, no. She’s like my sister. “Wait, are you jealous?”
Lightning flashes across the sky just as the words leave my mouth, and I realize my grave mistake. Her face illuminated in the flash of white light looks murderous.
“Jealous? Me? Of Scarlett!” she yells at me as she stops and walks back towards me, her voice competing with the wind that has started howling. “Why would I be? Should I be? Is this all some sick game to you?”
She’s nearly back to me. I could touch her if I reached my hand out, but I don’t. Not yet. I try reaching with my words first. “Of course not! That was a poor choice of words, and I’m very sorry. But I know something happened. One minute we’re dancing, the next you’re charming the pants off of anyone within earshot of you, and the next, it’s like you’ve disappeared. Willow, what happened? What aren’t you telling me?” Dread fills the pit of my stomach.
“It was a magical night.” She turns away from me. “One of the best of my life. The dress, the mask, the evening started out just like a fairytale, complete with a charming prince. Then we arrive and the gala is more, more than anything I could’ve imagined. More candle light, more champagne...more people, money, status. Everything was just so much more than I’m used to. Then people started noticing me. People looking at me like I have no right to be with you? I’m definitely not used to that. That didn’t even bother me the most.” At first I think she’s crying, and then I realize it’s a rain drop rolling down her cheek.
As she tells me this, I hate that she thinks she’s not enough. She’s more than enough. It’s me who falls short. “Of course, they noticed you; you’re stunning.” The sky opens up, and the rain starts to fall.
“What did bother me was knowing Scarlett picked my mask. She put her hands on you every chance she got; she made it clear she was your date until you blew her off at the last minute because of me. Because of Drew. Because and I quote, ‘Playing house is a fun way to pass the time.’ But when you’re ready for someone to stand by your side, to run your empire, that’s when you’ll patch things up with her and finally be together. Although from how chummy it seemed tonight, you obviously haven’t confronted her about the phone call.”
Before I can even jump in, she continues.
“And this whole empire?” She stares at me in disbelief. “I mean I know that you’re powerful and successful. I understand that you built a lucrative business. And I’m so proud of you. But she talks about you like you’re so far above me, above us. I’m happy for your success; you’re hardworking and brilliant, so it’s not a complete shock. But that kind of success takes sacrifice, and where does that leave us? How—”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I interrupt her. “It doesn’t have to leave you anywhere!”
“It all makes sense now. The drivers, the plane, designer gowns from Harrods. But this is not me, I grew up with money, but this is something else. I can’t be on display. I’ll only disappoint you. I can’t be her.” Shoulders slumping, she turns and walks away from me, yet again.
“Why can’t you see you’re it for me? Why won’t you believe that?” I yell after her. “Willow, stop!” Catching up to her, I take her shoulders in my hand and hold her in place, my hands sliding on her damp skin. She needs to understand. “Who gives a shit about an empire? What difference does it make? You never cared about the money before when there was none. So why would you care now that I’m drowning in it?”
She stares up at me, her body tense, auburn hair curling around her face from the rain.
“And that’s what I’ve been doing, Willow…drowning.” I try to explain as my palms move to cradle her cheeks, brushing away the raindrops that fall like tears. “Barely hanging on, treading water. Deal after deal. Becoming someone I’m not proud of. Who cares if all eyes in the world are on me if I can’t even look at myself in the mirror?”
“All the time I was burying myself in my work, I was trying to fill a void. The money isn’t what I need. You. You and Drew are what I need.” I admit it, giving her the power to destroy me. And a part of me suddenly wishes I could take it back. Lightning flashes and she jumps, falling into my arms.
“As for Scarlett, she’s not a threat. So please, just trust me to handle her. She and I have never been a thing. Ever. Not while you were gone...” I run my nose along the side of her neck, the rain drops tickling my skin. “Not tonight.” I pull her flush against me and finally capture her lips with mine. “Not ever.”
“Piers.” She moans into my mouth, and hearing that sound, coupled with the fact she’s soaking wet, pressed against me and saying my name, is enough to have me embarrassing myself in mere minutes.
“Enough talking,” I tell her and I close my mouth over hers once more, desperate for her. I grab her waist and lift her to me, walking us under the partial cover of the trellis. Her back hits up against a brick pillar, and I slide her down to her feet as I pull one of her legs up to hook it around my waist, continuing a punishing kiss on her lips. Her arms come up around my neck for support.
And what transpires when our lips are connected is more than a kiss. It’s two people saying everything they can’t with words.
“Piers,” she moans again, urging me on, her fingers now clawing at my back.
She kisses me back with such aggression, it’s like a switch has been flipped. I need her. Now. Bending, I gather the folds of her skirts and lift them to her waist. Kissing my way up her body as I rise, I find her skin hot under the cool, wet chiffon.
My lips run out of lace and land on skin, my tongue darts out to trace the edge of the lace. Weaving my way back and f
orth between the soaked lace and her perfect skin. I lick my way to her collarbone and she’s arching into me, her heel digging into my back.
My hand drifts down, and I gently caress her pebbled nipple through the fabric. My thumb making circles, my palm spanning her ribs while my other hand holds her hip in place.
She bucks against me. I need her now. No more waiting. It’s time to show her with my body how much I need her. How she’s the only one.
Reaching between us, I undo my tux pants. Freeing myself, aching for her. One stroke, then two...a couple times as I watch her coming apart in my arms, just from my hands and mouth on her.
I slide my hand further down, slowly and steady. Past her navel, over the jeweled belt and reach through the rain soaked fabric pulled up around her hips, and I find a triangle of lace covering her. Scooting it out of the way with my finger, one swipe up her center lets me know she’s ready for me.
The feel of her dampness on my finger is almost more than I can bear. I massage her clit with my thumb, and I press my finger gently into her, slowly withdrawing before plunging back in. “Piers,” she moans, and I repeat the motion. My lips find her neck as I add another finger to make sure she’s ready for me. She’s so tight. Unbelievably tight. She rides my hand and stretches for me. “Piers!” she cries out, and I press harder into her, her back scratching up against the brick.
I withdraw my hand, using it to drag myself slowly up her entrance. Throbbing for her, teasing her the way she teased me all night in that bewitching dress. Her hands tangle in my hair.
“Piers,” she moans in my ear, right as I press against her, about to take her, finally. “There’s been no one else.”
My heart plummets, and my eyes blink open to find hers watching mine. How can that be? My heart nearly stops at her confession, and it’s like ice water has been splashed on me. Looking at her, at what I’ve nearly done, makes me sick. She’s wide eyed, her creamy skin is red and blotchy from my whiskers, red lips smudged. Her gorgeous gown is soaked and crumpled up around her waist with her delicate lace panties ripped to the side.
She’s panting, backed against a pillar and watching my every move. I quickly release her and tuck myself back into my trousers. Shit.
“Willow. I—” Turning my back, I take a minute to choose my next words, very carefully. “I’m sorry, I—” Scrubbing my hands down my face, I walk away, catching my breath. Don’t screw this up.
“Please, let’s just go—” Turning, I see she’s already gone. Panicking I turn towards the house and catch a glimpse of emerald fabric in the moonlight, right before I hear the door slam.
The storm has passed, but the humidity hangs in the air; along with my guilt it suffocates me. Fuck!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WILLOW
I stand at the window in the darkness, watching the rain falling steadily outside. Little drops shimmering down from the sky, evidence of our passionate moment outside now drip down my bare shoulders. Cool drops that relieve the heat I feel burning up inside me. My fingertips trace my swollen lips, and I close my eyes. Surely I didn’t imagine it. Yet again, he pushed me away.
He kissed me so angrily and greedily in the courtyard. So very different from the stolen kisses we shared all those years ago in the trees. Each time we touch now, it’s like I could combust. The fire and need is so much more than it was back then. My mind and my body have desires that the girl I was never dreamed of. But he still treats me like a delicate flower, like we’re back in that garden, and he might crush me.
I was consumed. I thought he was too...that he was finally going to take me. Then he abruptly stopped his assault on my mouth and left me to walk back to my room alone. The warm rejection is flowing on my cheeks, mixed with the cool summer rain.
Is it silly to be upset? Maybe the kissing didn’t mean anything to him – the doubt seeps in. It’s quite apparent that Piers has no shortage of women falling all over him, including Scarlett. Am I trying too hard? Does he even want me anymore? It’s been so long, but that kiss...I felt that kiss in my soul. How could he not even feel a fraction of the fire that I did?
The air becomes charged, and I feel my skin start to tingle, opening my eyes to see his reflection in the window. His dark silhouette framed in the light of the hall, he stands still as a statue. I too am frozen in place...the hurt I feel about whatever the hell transpired downstairs is drowned out by my desire to be near him.
The pull I feel towards him is nothing short of magnetic, and that scares me. What scares me more is that he doesn’t seem to feel it.
I put aside that fear and take a chance, looking over my shoulder at him, and he grips the door frame with both hands. His gaze holds mine across the darkened room; I bite my lip, trying to contain myself.
“Fuck it,” I hear him breathe out in a harsh whisper. Dropping his arms, he charges into the room towards me, and I turn completely around, pressing my back into the cold glass window. The chill can’t compete with the fire I feel once he reaches me.
He steps between my legs and presses his body against mine. His hard length against my stomach; only rain soaked chiffon and tuxedo pants separate us now. He tangles his hand in my hair, which is a massive mess of wet curls. I stare at him expectantly as the other hand wraps around my throat, his thumb tracing a path from my chin to my sternum and back again. I melt in his capable hands. It should scare me, but it doesn’t. His eyes burn into mine before he lowers his mouth.
His tongue runs across my bottom lip, and I arch into him, begging for more with my stare. My body hums in anticipation, and he drops both hands as if waging some type of war.
“Piers!” I plead. He closes his eyes as if he’s in pain.
“You have no idea what you’re asking of me, Willow.” His voice is raw and gravelly.
“What happened outside,” I start.
“Was a mistake.” He finishes cruelly, and I feel the sting of fresh tears.
He searches my face and reaches to hold it in his hands. “Let me finish.”
I pull away. “I think you said enough.”
He turns me back around to face him, eyes burning into mine, eyes shining with desire.
“It was a mistake because you deserve better than to be taken roughly against a column in the garden...you deserve silk sheets, candles and roses, but I lost control. I always seem to lose control with you.” His voice is raspy with lust, and I’m relieved to know he still wants me, that he feels this too.
It’s my turn to be speechless as he whispers across my lips, “I promised myself, just one taste...that it would be it. But it wasn’t enough. It’s. Never. Enough.”
“You didn’t hurt me Piers, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I wanted it, and I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” I confess.
He sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “But you still don’t get it. I don’t want stolen kisses anymore. I don’t want to make love to you just to see if it’s still there. It’s there, Willow…I promise you that. It’s never left,” he continues, and with every word, I want him more, but I don’t dare interrupt him. I let him bare his soul.
Releasing me, he walks to the bed, running his hand on the soft white sheets. “I don’t want to lay with you in that bed, have you in my arms, knowing that at some point you will be an ocean away again. I don’t want a farewell fuck.” I flinch at his crude choice of words, and he makes his way back to me, taking my face in his hands once more.
“I want all the kisses to be mine and only mine. The only thing stolen will be your breath when I strip you bare and give you everything I am, every single time.” His nose nuzzles my neck and his tongue darts out to taste my skin. My knees grow weak, and his capable hands grip tightly on my hips, holding me in place.
“I want to own you.” Lick.
“All of you.” Kiss.
“I want to devour you.” Lick.
“Worship you.” Kiss.
He drags in a breath, his palms resting on my cheeks as his mouth whispers agai
nst mine. “I want the only name, falling from those heart-shaped ruby lips as you climax, to be mine.”
He grinds against me, and my hands tangle in his hair, my body desperate to get closer to him.
“If we do this, it changes things. It changes everything. There is no going back; you’ll be mine. Are you ready for that?” His question burns down deep into my soul because that’s all I’ve ever really wanted was to be his and for him to be mine.
I hesitate...because this isn’t just about us anymore or what we want. I’m overwhelmed by his confession, words I’ve waited so long to hear. But is it too late?
“I’ll take that as a no,” he concedes.
I whimper as Piers releases my face and drags his hands possessively down my body as if memorizing every curve.
“But being the selfish bastard that I am, I’m going to have you anyway.” He spins me around and moves my hair, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. “But I can’t be the man you expect me to be. We both need a release, but I can’t lay down in that bed and get lost in you. So we’ll do this my way.” A shiver rolls through my body.
“Put your hands on the window,” he orders, heat floods my core.
So now we’re back to the dark Piers. I do as he instructs.
My zipper slowly starts the journey down my back, and I feel him tug the wet chiffon loose before it crumbles at my feet. “Don’t want you catching a chill.” His words tickle my spine as he lowers himself behind me to help me step out of the dress.
I’ve never felt as exposed as I do standing before him now in nothing but silver jeweled heels and black lace lingerie. His mask slipped back into place, and even now as he’s retreating into himself, farther from the boy I loved, I’ve never wanted him more.
He runs his hands down my back, and I arch into his touch, nearly losing balance as my fingers struggle to stay in place on the foggy window.
He grabs my hips with both hands and pulls me back into him. “Tell me what you want,” he rasps.
“You,” I manage between heavy breaths.
Happy Ever Never (Written in the Stars Book 1) Page 15
