“Off,” I demand, pushing the denim over his arse and down his legs.
Will kisses my neck and nibbles my earlobe, his lips featherlight as he trails them down my body, over my collarbone, and between my breasts, a growl emanating from his throat when his teeth snag the centre of my bra.
“Off,” he mumbles, sliding my shirt from my shoulders as I reach back and unhook the clasp of my bra.
I remove it and lean back on my hands, legs spread, chest bare.
“Fuck me, you’re beautiful,” he says, cupping my breasts
Will rubs the pads of his thumbs over my nipples before leaning down and sucking one into his mouth. My nerve-endings fizzle to life, heat surging my body so fast I almost combust.
Gasping, my head falls back, and I arch into him as he swaps breasts then runs his hands along my thighs, pushing up the hem of my shirt.
“Touch me,” I beg, not recognising my voice or the words coming out of my mouth. I’ve never begged anyone to touch me.
He presses his finger to my clit.
My pulse spikes.
My underwear sticks to my skin.
He groans, so I rock against his finger and bite my lip, my heavy-lidded eyes holding his.
Will doesn’t hesitate and tears my panties down my legs, spreads my knees apart, and leans forward, his tongue a continuous, delicious lash.
A moan so arduous and filthy sweeps past my lips, my back bowing as I grip the edge of the benchtop. Will props my feet on his shoulders then slides two fingers inside me, his lips and beard glistening as he smiles like a greedy devil. I want to smile too, but I can’t, the pressure and sensation with each slide, twitch, and flick almost too much to bear.
“Will,” I pant.
He plunges his fingers deeper, brows drawn, muscles tense, his fingertips stroking the perfect spot. Heat explodes all over my body, and I cry out, writhing uncontrollably.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” He pumps me over and over, slower and slower until he slides his fingers out, yanks his underwear down, and presses the tip of his cock against my clit, using his hand to rub it against me so fast another climax hits me like a thunderbolt.
“Oh God!” I scream as he lets go, drives into me, rears back, and drives in again, his hands gripping my hips as his body slams mine like a drumbeat—quick, fast, relentless, his rhythm perfect.
Will roars, dirty and guttural, and I almost come again just from the sheer sexiness of it. Everything about him is wild and animalistic—the ink etched across his skin, the sweat-dampened hair on his chest, the heavy and hooded look in his eyes. He’s no clean-cut, prim and proper Prince Charming, and I sure as hell don’t want him to be. Not now, not ever.
His eyes meet mine and sparkle as he smiles, our breathing laboured, and just like that, dark and dirty turns to light.
“Come here,” he says and offers his hand to pull me up.
Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, I kiss him hard, holding him tight, never wanting to let go.
He chose me. He wants me, just as I am—a little damaged but not broken. And for the first time in my life, I can see a happily ever after.
I relax, snuggle into the crook of his neck, and murmur, “I love you.” I don’t care if he doesn’t say it back. I said it for me, and for now, that’s enough.
“Er… can we come in now?” Carly calls out from the hallway.
My body stiffens, and I jerk back, eyes wide, the shade “mortification” my new complexion.
“Shit!” I shove Will away and pull my dress over my shoulders. “Uh… just a minute,” I sing out.
He lifts his jeans and chuckles as he fastens his zip and button.
“Stop laughing,” I hiss. “Where’s my underwear?”
“Don’t know. I tossed them.”
I try to murder him with my eyeballs.
“I think I see them on the table,” Carly says. “Which is disgusting, by the way. I eat there.”
Oh my God! “No, you don’t,” I snap. “You eat in the lounge room.” I point to my underwear and mouth, “Quick!” to Will. “Go get them.”
He strides over to the table and glances down the hallway. “Hey, Jaws.”
“Hey!”
He picks up my underwear and twirls it round his finger before tipping his chin and adding, “Mate.”
Mate? My face burns hotter than a jalapeno.
“Derek?” I mouth, cringing.
Will nods once, and I simply want to strangle him. How can he be so cool, calm, and collected? So relaxed and proud?
He’s a nutcase.
Snatching my underwear from his twirling fingertip, I quickly step into them, pull them up, and smooth down my shirt and hair.
“Uh… you can come in now,” I croak.
Carly skips into the room, her smile obnoxious and sleezy. “That sounded so hot.” She sits her arse on the breakfast barstool, as if I’m about to dish up a feast with a side of sexual gossip.
I gape at her.
“I knew it! I knew something was going on.” She picks up an apple from the fruit bowl, tosses it into the air, and catches it before spinning her chair to face Derek. “What did I say, huh?”
He presses his lips together, shrugs, and opens his hands, ready to take a catch.
Carly takes a bite then tosses it his way.
Are you kidding me? They’re playing catch right after listening to my pound-town session. Who does that?
I can’t look at them. I can’t look at Will. I can’t even be in this room right now.
“Be right back,” I mumble and hightail it out of there.
After heading straight for my bathroom, I close the door, grab a handful of toilet paper, and clean myself up.
“Lib,” Carly says. She knocks on my door. “You okay?”
I take in my reflection in the mirror, cheeks as red as my hair, and burst into laughter. “Yes.”
The door creaks open, and I bury my head in my hands and peek at her through my spread fingers. “Oh my God!”
“You can say that again.” She bites her lip. “So Will…? What? How? When?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Best you tell me before I punch you in the tit.”
I wash my hands and attempt to fix my hair.
“You look like a slutty Troll Doll.”
“Stop it.” I laugh. “I do not.”
“Do.” Carly leans against the doorframe, crosses her arms over her chest, and points at my girly bits. “What I want to know is how the fuck does he fit in there?”
I look down then back up again. “I have no idea.” Drying my hands on the towel, I add, “But he does. Perfectly.”
“I heard,” she drawls.
We both head into my bedroom and sit down on the bed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say. “But you had a lot going on with Derek, and I didn’t want to add to that.”
“Libby, I’m your best friend. When there’s a new cock in your life, you need to tell me.”
“I know.” I grab my seashell cushion and hug it to my chest. “We just had a few things to sort out first.”
“Things?” She touches my hand. “Does he know?”
“About my illness? Yes.”
“Good.” Carly lets out a breath. “Will’s a great guy, Lib.”
“I know.” I scrunch my face and spit out, “We’ve kinda been dating for a few months.”
“A few months?” She stands up and narrows her eyes at me. “I can’t believe you.”
I stand up too and quickly kiss her cheek. “Yeah, sorry.”
Carly playfully shoves me, so I shove her back.
We head into the kitchen, and I’ve the overwhelming need to wipe down the benchtop, so I grab a cloth and rush to scrub the surface.
“You fucked on the bench?” Carly says, eyebrows high.
Will grins.
She nudges his shoulder. “Nice!”
I roll my eyes and rinse the cloth at the sink.
“So does this mean you’re coming with us tonight?” she asks.
I half turn and glance over my shoulder. “Tonight?”
“Yeah, to Bryce and Lexi’s for the guys’ jam session.”
Will drums his fingers on the benchtop. “Yep, she’s coming.”
“I am?”
They all smile at me. “You are!”
Chapter Eighteen
“Hi, guys, come in,” Alexis says as she opens the door to the City Towers villa.
She gives Carly a hug and kiss on the cheek, followed by Will, then me. At first, I feel a little weird; Alexis and I aren’t close. But she has a warm, welcoming aura about her, and after a quick squeeze and excited giggle, I feel less like a tag-along when she moves on to Derek.
“Come here, you. So much has happened since the penthouse blew up, and I haven’t properly thanked you for all you did that day.” She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough. Anyone would think he’s a damn hero,” Bryce says, smiling as he strides barefoot into the foyer, wearing jeans and a shirt, sleeves rolled up, beer in hand.
Alexis playfully rolls her eyes, lets go of Derek, and moves to Bryce, her long blonde hair cascading down her back as she drapes her hands over his broad shoulders. “Everyone knows you’re my one and only hero.”
Carly puts her finger to her mouth and gags.
Bryce smirks.
Oh wow!
“There it is,” Will murmurs behind his hand. “That’s the look that makes all women drop their panties.” He reaches into the back of my jeans and basically gives me a wedgie.
“What are you do—”
“Making sure they stay up.”
“Oh my God!” I swipe his hand away and inconspicuously try to un-wedgie myself.
Carly scrunches her face and says, “You got worms?”
“No! I’m just….” I huff. “Never mind.”
Will rests his arm on my shoulder and pulls me into his side. “Bryce, you remember Lib?”
“I do.” He reaches out, takes my hand, and lifts it to his lips. “Welcome, Ms Hanson.”
My eyes grow wide, but Alexis just smiles.
“Okay, okay.” Will playfully shoves him back. “Anyone would think you’re a damn billionaire.”
Bryce chuckles. “Come in, guys. It’s not the same as the penthouse, but it’ll have to do.”
We step into the living area, and I’m in awe. It’ll have to do? Is he nuts? This place is incredible. Creamy white walls, mahogany door trims and countertops, gold fixtures and fittings, leather sofas. Even the floor-to-ceiling, gold-embroidered sheer curtains are opulent.
“There’s a bathroom and toilet on this level, as well as one upstairs. Feel free to use either,” Alexis says. She waddles behind a bar counter and pops open a bottle of wine. “Drinks are here. Help yourselves.”
Bryce slides in behind her and takes four beers out of the fridge. “We’ll be in the studio, my love. Come in when you’re ready.”
He kisses her neck and gently caresses her full belly, and I can’t help but look away.
“You’ll get used to it,” Carly says. “They can’t keep their hands off one another. They’re like rich, horny rabbits.”
Alexis laughs. “We are not!”
Bryce kisses her one more time. “We are!”
She shakes her head. “We’ll be in soon.” Alexis opens another bottle of wine. “Libby, what would you like, white, red, or this non-alcoholic pink shit I have to drink?”
“Oh.” I cringe. “Just a glass of red, thanks.”
“Carls?”
“White for me.”
She goes about pouring the drinks as the men follow Bryce into another room, and Carly and I take a seat on the sofa behind Charlotte—Alexis’s seven-year-old daughter—who’s sitting in front of a giant TV on the plushest rug I’ve ever seen.
“What ya watchin’, squirt?” Carly asks.
Both Charlotte and I answer, “The Little Mermaid.”
Her twinkling blue eyes land on mine. “You like The Little Mermaid?”
I slide off the sofa and onto the floor next to her. “I do! It’s my favourite movie ever.”
She smiles and hands me her Ariel doll. “Here, you can play with this one. You have the same hair.”
I take it from her and hold it next to my face.
She giggles. “I’ll play with Ursula.”
Charlotte pulls a yuck face, and I copy.
“What’s wrong with Ursula?” Carly asks. “She looks like a baaad bitch.”
“Aunty Carls, you just swore.”
Carly raises her hands. “Sorry.”
“For that”—Charlotte tosses Ursula to Carly—“you can play with her.”
Carls tosses it back. “I don’t play with dolls.”
“You sure ‘bout that?” Alexis drawls.
Carly glares at her friend of thirty-plus years. Alexis just winks.
Chuckling at the both of them, I leave them to their devices and focus back on the movie. “Ooh, ooh!” I nudge Charlotte. “I love this bit!”
“Me too!” She picks up a fork that’s lying among her toys.
“A dinglehopper!” we both say at the same time Scuttle—the eccentric seagull—says it in the movie.
Charlotte threads the fork into her hair and starts combing it. I laugh, and she hands it to me before running off and returning moments later with another fork.
“Now you have a dinglehopper, and I have one.”
“Why thank you, Charlotte.”
“My friends call me Charli. You’re my friend now, so you can call me Charli too.”
“My friends call me Libby.”
She hugs me. “I like you, Libby.”
“Naww, I like you too, Charli.”
We sit there, enthralled, combing our hair with dinglehoppers until Ariel—and Charlotte—start singing “Part of Your World.”
“This is one of my favourite songs,” she says, eyes alight.
“Mine too!”
She frowns. “Then why aren’t you singing?”
“Oh.” I shake my head. “I can’t sing.”
“Sure you can. You just open your mouth and say the words in your best voice.”
Gah! My heart! What a sweetie.
I scrunch my face. “My best voice isn’t very good.”
She pouts, and it tugs perfectly on my guilt strings.
“Okay. I’ll sing it with you, but you have to promise not to laugh.”
“I’d never do that.” Charlotte holds up her little finger. “Pinkie swear.”
We lock pinkies then sing the rest of the song, joining in with Ariel as she sings about wanting to be a part of the human world, and it strikes me that, even in an innocent kids’ Disney movie, we tend to want what we don’t or can’t have. We create an ideal of the perfect life and strive to achieve it, all the while forgetting true perfection is what we make of it. It’s human nature, I guess. Well… in Ariel’s case, it’s mermaid nature.
Giggling when the song ends and Sebastian the crab crashes into the scene, I almost jump a mile when Will whispers into my ear, “Why do you have a fork in your hair?”
“Jeeesusss.” I cover my heart with my hand and turn to find him sitting on the sofa behind me. “You scared the crap out of me.”
His eyes are dreamy, his smile even dreamier.
“What?” I have to move away; he’s too damn sexy.
Grasping the handle of the fork, I comb my hair and add, “It’s not a fork.”
“Looks like a fork to me.”
“It’s a dinglehopper, Will,” Charlotte says.
“A what?”
“A dingle— Never mind.” I slide it out of my hair then glance around, noticing Alexis and Carly are no longer in the room. “Where is everyone?”
“In the studio.”
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realise. I was just watching—”
“The Little Mermaid?”
My cheeks f
lush with embarrassment. “Yeah.”
He licks his lips, gives me his sex-eyes, then takes a swig of his beer. “Cute.”
“Don’t,” I say, pointing at him as I stand up. “I know what you’re doing.”
Will chuckles then scruffs Charlotte’s hair. “Thanks for looking after Libby while I was gone.”
“Anytime. I like her. We’re friends.”
Biting back my laughter, I hand her the fork. “Thank you for lending me your dinglehopper.”
She stands up and gives me a hug. “Keep it. Mum won’t mind.”
“Really?” I’m not about to take their cutlery home, so I go along with her beautiful gesture so that I don’t offend or upset her. “I’ve always wanted one of my own. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” She fiddles with her fingers and twists her body from side to side, seemingly proud of herself. And so she should be—she’s such a delightful child.
“Bye, Charli.”
I wave as Will takes my hand in his and leads me into the studio, a room filled with instruments and lined with soundproof, carpeted panels, much like Will’s music room only bigger. There’s even a pool table, barstools, and sofas.
“Wow! This is impressive,” I say.
“Believe it or not, Bryce had one double the size before the fire,” he murmurs. “Shame it burnt down.”
“This is certainly nothing to sneeze at. The villa is stunning.”
“Oh, we know,” Alexis says. “The design and building team at City Towers are exceptional. They’ve pulled out all stops to make this villa seem like home while the penthouse is being rebuilt.”
“So did the entire penthouse burn down?”
“No.” Alexis hands me my glass of wine. “Structurally, the place is sound, thank God! But, internally, it’s completely destroyed. The walls, carpets, furniture, pretty much everything sustained smoke, fire, and water damage.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She sucks in a breath and glances at Bryce. “It is what it is. Now we rebuild and move on. We have each other, and that’s all that matters.”
His eyes are full of love as he smiles at her sadly before looking away.
“I’m just glad you’re all okay,” I say.
“We’re getting there.” She sips her non-alcoholic pink shit then points to us both. “So, you and Will, huh?”
Connection (Temptation Series Standalones Book 2) Page 18