Hearts and Thorns

by Ella Fields

  I broke away long enough to tear it off, her hands moving to the fly of my jeans as mine fumbled with the tie of her robe, our lips hovering and desperate to stay connected.

  Her robe slipped down her arms, and desperation fled in the face of savoring what stood before me.

  Her pale skin was unchanged. My gaze absorbed the tiny freckle next to her belly button, the rosy buds of her pert nipples, and the gentle curve of her hips.

  They flared more now, creating an hourglass figure that begged to be traced, to be squeezed, to be devoured and appreciated in every way. “Christ, Bug.”

  At hearing the nickname, her eyes roamed up my chest, locking with mine. A million memories warred with what-ifs, and consequences be damned, I needed her.

  Her breasts heaved, heavier, but no less perfect, and her cheeks flushed with want. “Touch me.”

  My eyes slammed closed, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to shake some sense into myself. All that went to hell when I felt my jeans being lowered, along with my briefs, and I opened my eyes to find Willa on her knees.

  “Willa.”

  Her hand wrapped tight around me, and although her gaze was fixed on mine, she didn’t wait. Her tongue snaked out, licking at the want she’d caused to leak from the tip, and then I was sliding inside her warm mouth.

  I almost collapsed, my ears ringing and my balls drawing tight. Her tongue and hand worked together, stroking and pulling, sucking and twisting. I was going to come, and it took every ounce of restraint to keep from doing so.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been about to explode like this. So quick and with hardly any preamble.

  It was her.

  Always fucking her.

  Bending, I pulled her up and shucked off my shoes and jeans, then I grabbed her hand and tugged her to her room.

  It was dark, and though I longed to see every inch of her, I was too far gone to seek any form of light.

  At the foot of her bed, I gathered her to me, my hands gliding down her back as our lips slid over one another. Inside her panties, I squeezed her ass, then palmed it, my cock pressing into her stomach as our bodies melded. Her little moans, the tender way in which her hand held my cheek and the other ran down my side, had me shivering and then breaking away.

  “On the bed,” I croaked.

  Lust-filled eyes shone up at me, every barrier stripped bare in the moonlight as I crawled between her legs and paused.

  “Jack,” she whispered, hands cupping my face, forcing my eyes to hers. “Get inside me.”

  I didn’t even test her opening. I knew she’d be soaked, and I was right.

  My head fell to her neck as I slid inside, bare and fucking blind with need. “Shit, Willa.” I went to pull out, but her nails scored into my shoulders, and her thighs tightened.

  “No,” she whispered. “If you’re going to fuck me, you do it the only way we know how. Nothing between us.”

  I was going to combust or cry. My head swam, and I pulled out, rolling out of her hold and off the bed.

  “I can’t.” Dragging my knuckles over my forehead, I left the room.

  “You just did,” she said, tears in her voice as she raced after me.

  “Willa, stop,” I said, that anger returning.

  “No, you fucking coward. You went too far, and now you need to finish what you’ve started.”

  My brows jumped, my dick a rock-hard burn between us as I glared into her hazel eyes. “Did you need to beg that asshole to fuck you too?”

  I heard the sound of her hand striking my face before I even felt the sting. “Get out. I’ll finish myself off to thoughts of anything but you.”

  “Real mature,” I called, following her back into her room.

  “Fuck off, Jackson.”

  “Never.” I pulled her back flush to my chest, then fisted her hair to one side. She moaned as I walked us to the bed, dropping kisses to her neck, my tongue sliding out to skim her delicate jaw. Releasing her hair, I growled, “Bend over.”

  She did, folding like a flower in the breeze, her back arching.

  My finger traced her ass, sliding down until it found her wet cunt, then I slapped the inside of her thigh. “Open up.”

  Before she’d finished adjusting her footing, I was sinking inside, my head falling back as her wet heat tightened around me.

  I didn’t care that I was coming within minutes. Fast and hard, I fucked her, my hands gripping those perfect hips as she rocked forward with each brutal thrust.

  I kept bringing her back, milking myself as her cries permeated the room, and all too soon, I pulled out, coming all over her lower back and ass. My entire body shook, my knees quaking, and before I could even see straight, she was climbing over the bed.

  Shaking my head to help clear it, I quickly grabbed her ankle and pulled her back to me.

  Willa squeaked. “Your semen’s now all over my bed.”

  “I don’t give a fuck.” I spread her thighs. “I’m not done.”

  Whatever response she’d formed exited on a garbled sigh of pleasure as my hands tightened around her thighs, and my mouth feasted on her.

  The sound of a phone ringing opened my eyes.

  They then immediately closed against a room lit up with bright rays of sunshine. Groaning, I tried to move, but the body curved against mine had me stilling.

  My hand clenched around a smooth hip, and my rock-hard dick… holy shit, it was still inside her.

  Willa.

  Swamped with a kaleidoscope of filthy memories, it only grew harder, and I heard a soft mewl in response.

  In at least four different positions, I’d fucked her. Three of them being during the night, the last one taking place when we’d woken wanting more. Slow and deep, we’d collided and clung, and then we’d passed out. The last thing I remembered before it was lights out was kissing her shoulder and neck, feeling myself soften inside her.

  The phone rang again. Realizing it was mine, I carefully moved Willa off me, rubbing my eyes as I stumbled into the small hall to retrieve it from my jeans.

  Three missed calls from Ainsley, plus a text saying she was sorry, then asking where I was.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Torn, I stared at the screen of my phone when it rang again, then looked back at the room I’d just vacated.

  I jumped when there was a knock on the door, then frowned at my phone. There was no way…

  After tugging on my clothes, I marched to the door, dodging the water and pieces of broken vase, then paused to draw in a steadying breath. Time to face the music.

  Only, when I opened it, Ainsley wasn’t there.

  About to knock again, Todd lowered his hand, his other holding a tray with two takeout cups. “Um, what?”

  “Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” I said, throwing the door closed with a bang.

  “Jackson?” Willa’s sleep-coated voice reached me. “Who is it?”

  She was tying her robe, her hair tangled and her lips swollen.

  And I was the biggest idiot alive.

  Checking my phone was in my pocket, I felt my hands shake with building rage.

  “Jack?”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Her lips pursed, her large eyes searching, as she reached for my arm. “Don’t tell me you regret it?”

  Shoulders squaring, I stepped back. “I’d need to feel something in order to feel regret,” I said. “And I feel nothing.” Staring down the bridge of my nose, I held her gaze, glaring as I backed up to the door. “Thanks for helping me screw loose what little I still felt.” I grinned, sharp and sincere. “I’m good now. Enjoy your life.”

  Her face crumpled, but I was already breezing out the door, shoulder checking the asshole on the other side before racing down the stairs.

  Willa

  “Tell me again how you just allowed that scumbag back into your life?”

  “I haven’t,” I said, crossing my arms defensively as we skirted people on the street.
/>
  After Jackson left, I’d told Todd to come in and said I’d be out soon.

  Under the spray of the shower, I’d spent a solid ten minutes feeling like I’d taken a thousand steps backward, the water washing each shredded piece of misery from my face.

  “That’s not what it looked like to me.”

  “I was wondering when you’d bring it up,” I muttered.

  Todd huffed, kicking at a pebble. “It seemed too fresh to bring up this morning.”

  “It was just…” I crinkled my nose. “It just kind of happened.” Remembering his words and feeling the sour ache of regret, I said, “It won’t again.”

  “Uh-huh,” Todd said.

  The fact he didn’t seem jealous, not even a tiny bit, pricked. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made me curious. “What’s going on with you?” We’d already discussed med school, his job at the pharmacy near school, and his mother and sister who he’d come to visit. There was something new, though. Not only could I feel it, but I could see it.

  Something that brightened his eyes and smile as he looked at me, and said, “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. Have you met someone?”

  We reached the steak house, and he opened the door for me. “I have, actually.”

  The hostess greeted us, showing us to a booth in the back. “Well?” I said, sliding my purse off my shoulder to the table. “That’s all I get?”

  Arching a brow, he asked, “Do you really want to know more?”

  I didn’t want to hurt him, and I didn’t want to hurt myself either, but I wanted him to be happy. I wanted to hear about this person who’d delivered a glimpse of his soul to his eyes. “I really do.”

  “Todd?”

  Todd and I both looked in the direction his name had come from.

  Ainsley, looking pale, peered around the restaurant, her eyes and tone accusatory. “What are you doing here?”

  Seeming baffled, Todd closed the distance between them, gesturing to me. “I told you I was in town to see family and a friend.”

  If looks could kill, the one Ainsley sent me would’ve killed me ten times over.

  I struggled not to sink into the pleather seat. “Oh, shit.”

  “Ains,” Jackson called from the bar. Noticing who she was with, he then said something to the bartender and walked over.

  Todd’s demeanor changed, from confused to defensive, as Ainsley slid around him to Jackson’s side. “Ainsley,” he said, blinking. “Wait, you’re…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, his hand swiping hard over his mouth, his feet carrying him a step back.

  Jackson looked from Ainsley to Todd, then to me.

  I said nothing. Not that I had anything to say anyway.

  “How do you know him?” When all Ainsley did was blink away tears, her hands strangling her purse in front of her, Jackson’s tone and jaw hardened as he repeated himself. “Ainsley, how do you know him?”

  The few other patrons surrounding us ceased chattering, a strange quiet descending over the restaurant. “I only just met him,” she finally said, her eyes stuck on Todd. “Yesterday.”

  Todd muttered what sounded like, “Fuck this,” then walked right up to Ainsley and whispered, none too quietly, “Are you going to tell him what we did after meeting yesterday?”

  If I heard Todd, then Jackson did too, yet he didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe, as he stared at nothing on the other side of the room. Then, before I could get up, he was exiting the restaurant, Ainsley calling out to him as she followed.

  Todd slumped into the opposite side of the booth, waving down a waitress. “Bourbon. Bring the bottle.”

  I leaned over the table. “You slept with Ainsley?”

  He licked his lips, blowing out a gust of air. “Yup.”

  “Care to elaborate?” I waved a hand. “Given the circumstances and all.”

  Todd scratched at his cheek, contemplating, then sighed. “Yesterday, I pulled into the rest stop outside of town to take a piss, and there she was, crying at a damn picnic table.”

  “And you just…?” I felt my eyes bulge.

  He chuckled, then coughed. “No. Well, not right away. I spent some time chatting with her. Time got away from us. We ate. We drank.” He nodded a few times, making a face. “Then the sun was going down, and we, ah, got a room.”

  Wow. “She never once mentioned Jackson?”

  “Nope, and she said it was over, so I didn’t ask what his name was.” Shrugging, he gave me his eyes. “Would’ve fucking helped.”

  “Maybe,” I said, wincing a little. “I’m sorry.” Taking his hand, I squeezed it. “You seemed excited about her.”

  “Yeah,” he said, thanking the waitress who set down a bottle and glass. “Perhaps it’s past time to admit I have a fetish for heartbroken girls.”

  Todd crashed on my couch. We watched The Wedding Singer and got drunk, and he left for his mom’s the following morning with a nasty hangover to go with his bruised feelings.

  Almost two weeks had passed since the weekend that seemed to have upended so many lives.

  I’d lost count of how many times a day Jackson entered my mind. I wondered how he was doing, what he was doing, and if I should do anything.

  His parting words to me in my apartment had me drowning in indecision and taking no action.

  I set the rolling pin down when the bell tinkled. Dennis was busy serving other people, so I knew he could use some help. Dusting my hands on my apron, I pasted on a smile that was quick to wilt when my eyes found Victoria.

  She twisted side to side in her navy blue sundress and matching peacoat, her gaze bouncing over the interior, so it took her a moment to notice I was watching her.

  “Oh.” She tittered, her hand flapping to her chest, feet carrying her forward. “You scared me.”

  Words failed me, so I stood, silent, allowing her to further ruffle her own feathers.

  “You’ve done a brilliant job with this place,” she said, her smile shaking. “I remember when it was a cheap diner. It always had this strange smell, do you remember?” Laughing, she nodded to herself. “Never mind. I see you’ve remedied that situation.”

  “Dad and some of his friends helped.” I decided to put her out of her misery. “How’s Heath?”

  Her teeth tugged at her cherry red bottom lip. “He’s good.”

  She was lying, but far be it from me to dig deeper. “That’s good.”

  The chatter of customers drifted, fading out into the muted sunlight as we struggled to find words to blanket what we really wanted to say.

  Dennis jumped into the fray; his hand stuck toward Victoria. “You must be our lovely boss’s mother. I’m amazing, also known as Dennis.”

  Victoria tilted her head, then let her hand slip into his gentle grip. “That’s a beautiful shirt.”

  Dennis grinned, releasing her hand to tug at his bright pink T-shirt.

  Victoria drank in his tight jeans and the hot pink high tops on his feet, struggling to keep her expression neutral.

  “The recipes you dropped by, I took some home.” Dennis paused, scratching his bent nose. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Victoria’s eyes swung to me, then back to him, smiling. “No. Of course, not.”

  “The chicken curried pie?” Dennis groaned. “My wife just about proposed to me.”

  Victoria’s smile grew warm, real, as the two talked about Dennis’s daughter and his wife, and the small firm his wife worked at in the next town over.

  Grateful for the distraction, I returned to the counter and tidied up the crumbs and receipts around the till.

  On the way to the door, Victoria stopped. “Would you consider coming to dinner this Friday night?”

  Dropping tongs into the tin of sanitizer, I looked up. “Um…”

  She floated over, gripping her purse in front of her. “Ainsley and Jackson have been coming by these past few weeks. We’d love to make it,” she faltered, shifting, “you know, a family thing.”

/>   A family thing.

  Ainsley and Jackson…

  “Wait, they’re still together?” I knew it was a stupid thing to say the second the words vacated my mouth, but the panic sliding down my body, tugging at every organ, didn’t give a damn.

  Victoria laughed. “Of course.” Frowning, she said, “But you knew that already.”

  Florence thankfully chose that moment to return from her break, waltzing in the door with fake cheer. Sensing the tension, she immediately introduced herself, and she and Dennis saw Victoria out as I faded on the spot.

  Victoria waved, trying to say something over her shoulder, but as soon as the door closed behind her, I was gone.

  Inside the bathroom, the whirring fan overhead hid the heaving breaths that escaped, scraping my throat and lungs raw.

  Flo and Dennis were banging on the door a minute later, and after giving myself another minute, I opened it.

  “Well, she didn’t seem so bad,” Flo said.

  “A little uptight,” Dennis said, bobbing his head. “But nothing some sugar can’t fix.”

  I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I did nothing but stand there, listening to them prattle on.

  Then, finally, Dennis’s brows knitted as his eyes studied me. “You okay?”

  “She has this nasty effect on her,” Flo said.

  I shook my head. “It’s not her.”

  Dennis took me by the shoulders, directing me to the stool in the kitchen, and pulled a batch of brownies he’d made from the oven.

  “What is it?” Flo said, then her eyes bulged. “Oh, hell. What’s he done?”

  Wiping his hands, Dennis leaned over the counter. “Spill.”

  “It’s not so bad, kind of like chicken.” Dad held up a forkful of his roasted chicken, grinning.

  I crinkled my nose, smiling. “Still a snail, so it’s still disgusting.”

  Coming over for dinner was the last thing I’d wanted to do, but I’d promised when he’d called a few days ago. Plus, I hadn’t seen him since before finding out about Heath.

  “Okay,” Dad said, dropping his cutlery and grabbing his beer. “That was the most pitiful attempt at a smile I’ve seen from you in months.” Taking a sip of beer, he said, “What’s up?”