by Susan Ward
“EJ,” she moans. I swipe the hair back from her face and pause again, looking at her. The tiny crinkle caused by her half-lowered lids, the spray of color on her cheeks, the space between her parted lips.
“I want only to love you, never to hurt you,” I tell her, every feeling in my body thick in my voice.
“EJ.” Another whisper. “Kiss me.”
I tip her chin, needing her to see my eyes before I claim her lips. I’m pretty sure our gazes are mirror images of want and hunger.
My heart pounding, I crash my mouth against hers then temper our kiss to something soft, closed-mouthed, sensually light of touch.
Her fingers close on my shoulders as she eases up on her tiptoes, pushing into me, wanting more, and my tongue slides into her mouth.
She tastes of Willow—airy, sweet perfection—and I’m ravenous for more. I don’t want my violently pumping blood to ruin this moment. I want to take this slow, love all of her before I love her with me.
I kiss along her jawline to her ear. “You’re so beautiful.” My lips graze her eyelids, then brows, not stopping until my mouth is hovering above hers. The emotions locked inside for too long break free with my words and touch, and I know she doesn’t understand the full meaning of what I’m telling her, but it doesn’t alter my need to say these things to her. “You’re everything any man could ever want. The only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
My hands slip beneath her panties, exploring the firm, smooth shape of her ass, then she presses harder into me, my erection crushed between us, the blood draining out of my head.
Inhaling deeply, I angle my head back, closing my eyes, fighting to rein in my body.
“Can I take this off?” she asks, her hands on my jacket.
I nod. I can’t talk right now. In fact, I’m sure it’s better I don’t. Too much is crashing through me, and I don’t trust what I’ll say or what the powerful sensation she’s stirring inside me will bring to the surface.
She pushes my jacket down my arms. I hear it drop on the floor. Her mouth plants a searing kiss on the underside of my jaw.
“You want me to finish?”
She’s fingering the buttons on my shirt and the touch of her lips moves to my neck. I feel each fastening being opened. My body’s racked with tremors. Then my shirt’s gone and her hands run my flesh, and this time it’s like I’m coated in hot oil.
Breaking contact, she takes a step back from me and sinks to sit on the bed. I’m so caught up in her it takes a moment to realize that she’s pulled back, waiting for me to finish.
As I stare down at her, I’m overwhelmed by all the things I never took the time to learn about her when we were together before. I knew she was a sexual being, but what I didn’t grasp then was that it was fueled by her heart and that’s what made her so unforgettable. It drove her body to be open and took me places sexually I’d never been before. Into a space where it wasn’t only two bodies joined, but two people.
A bead of precum forms on the tip of my dick as he strains inside my pants, wondering—again—what the holdup is.
I kick off my shoes, unfasten my belt, and shove my pants off, freeing my cock in all its throbbing glory. Willow melts back against the bed, her eyes locked on mine, her beautiful face taut with anticipation, her black hair surrounding her.
Her gaze lowers to my abs, then farther down, blatantly checking me out, and her pupils seem to turn darker. She likes what she sees; it’s on her face, in her eyes, a siren’s call from her breathing.
Inching slowly closer, I plant my hands on either side of her, staying a hair back as I fight against what’s coursing through me. I shut my eyes then open them, and I know it’s now. I can’t wait any longer.
“This isn’t a meaningless hookup for me, Willow. I love you. I am fucking in love with you. When I look into your eyes, I see the man I want to be. The man I should have always been but wasn’t. Because I couldn’t be. I didn’t have you. I know this is hitting you fast, and I’ll wait until you’re where I am, but I want you to know how I feel. I’m here. I’m yours. And I always have been.”
When she opens her mouth, what comes out is the last thing I expect. “I’m here. On the bed. Waiting for you. Trying to figure out how you dissolve my every reservation and make me want to be yours. I didn’t need the speech, nice though it was. Either way, I know what this is and I’m ready for it.”
I don’t like the scope of interpretations I can assign to that one, but the adrenaline is rushing through my veins so fiercely I have no option but to circle back to that later. I can’t control my body or my feelings either, and it’s past time I stop doing both.
Leaning in, I kiss her with everything inside me as I lift her up off the bed. “There’s so much I want to do to you. And I want to start by touching and kissing you everywhere. Will you let me do that?”
Her eyes go wide, her long dark lashes flat against her skin. “Finish undressing me. I’m ready for anything.”
After shedding the last of my clothes, I tug off her panties then send her bra to the floor. I want to savor her, but right now I need her so desperately I’m not sure I can keep myself from getting between those creamy thighs and driving home.
Her legs slowly widen, and I move between them, easing back on my haunches as my flattened palms run up her thighs.
I drink in how she’s staring at me.
I pull in a rough breath.
My mind fills with visions of where I’ll start.
My fingers grip her sides and lift her from the bed toward my mouth. Within seconds my mouth is slathered with her juices, her legs over my shoulders and her pussy riding my starving tongue.
She’s a vat of burgeoning fiery supplication. Slowly taking her may be my fantasy, but it’s not what she needs. The signs from her body are too intense to ignore—fuck, I couldn’t hold back now if I tried.
From memory, I attack all her hot buttons with my fingers, my tongue, and exhales of breath. Her body is a perfectly calibrated collection of nerves and responses.
“Oh God,” she yells out. “How do you do that? Know exactly where? How? And yes, harder with your tongue.”
Grinding against my face, she comes apart lightning quick. Her essence runs down my throat to my cock. It’s too much. I set her back on the bed and cover her with my body, my cock rubbing against her lower lips as my arm goes toward the bedside drawer, praying to God she still keeps her condoms in there.
As my hips roll against her, keeping her quaking from the force of her orgasm, I use my teeth to rip open the foil square. It’s torture to break contact, even to roll the skin down my dick.
Then I sink deep inside her, and it’s the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt before. Being in her. Surrounded by her. In love with her. Her pussy wrapped around my cock. Tight. Hot. Wet. A perfect fit.
Gripping her ass tightly, I slowly ease out and then sink deep in. Her muscles spasm around me, and my mouth claims hers as I thrust faster and faster into her.
“You feel so good, baby,” I mutter against her neck. “Like the best of everything on this earth all held inside you. Come again, Willow. I want to have you come over my dick. Let go. Let your body be only mine.”
Heat runs my flesh with each plunge into her. The tension builds in her and I’m careening toward climax.
“Come with me, baby. Now.”
She arches off the bed. “Oh, EJ.” Both her arms and legs hold me viselike. My body is raging between her thighs. I can’t get deep enough into her.
Tremors roll the surface of her delicate limbs, and she’s coming again, tightening around my dick, almost blinding me with my arousal.
I can’t hold back. “Willow…fuck…feel what you do to me. Oh yeah. Willow…this is us.”
It was a long road to get here, but worth it, and I don’t want to ever be anywhere else again. As every ounce of spunk in me drains into her, I slow my body, molding us tighter, wanting to stay this connected to her as
long as I can.
Too soon reality will reshape us, pulling us from this moment back into something less perfect. I know we’ve gotten to this point too fast, too early, for this to be us, right now, forever. But Willow’s finally on the road with me to where I want us to go.
And whether she believes me yet or not.
Whether she realizes it or not.
I’m in love with her, and deep down inside she’s in love with me. Nothing either of us does is going to change that, not ever.
Chapter Eighteen
Willow
ERIC’S TURNED WILLOW into a nasty kitten…
The voice in my subconscious startles me awake, and I lie panting in the darkness, waiting for my heart to stop trying to break out of my skin and the disembodied sensation to leave my flesh.
I herd my thoughts and fight to steady my breathing. This isn’t Dad’s apartment above the bar. I’m in my bed in my house. It’s just a dream, not one I’m unfamiliar with, though it’s disturbing that I had it now and could hear his voice so clearly.
I turn onto my side and there’s EJ on the pillow next to me. The odd agitation kicks up and I don’t know why. Being with him last night was glorious. Sex never felt this way with Dean. Not even in our best moments did he get me as hot as EJ did. It was like he knew my body better than I do, as if we’d made love a thousand times before. And his little speech about loving me—I still can’t wrap my head around any of it, but it moved me deeply, in a way I didn’t think I could be anymore, flooding me with irrational happiness and wild hopes that maybe there is someone for me, someone who can fill the hole left inside me by him.
My gaze studies his face. Maybe that’s why I had a nightmare; it’s natural to feel anxious when taking the first step toward something new, especially since I know I carry unresolved junk over another guy that even my play-it-safe marriage to Dean didn’t cure me of.
My pulse misses a beat.
Oh God, I’ve done it again.
That’s why I’ve been dreaming about Eric so often.
I’ve jumped feet-first into the unknown with a man I hardly know, exactly as I did with Eric. The kind of thing former Willow did. Leading with her heart and not her brain.
No wonder my subconscious has been shooting up warning flares for weeks while I sleep. The dreams returned the second EJ appeared in front of the bar and my fascination drew me to him.
A guy I know nothing about.
A guy I’m fixated on.
A guy I’ve wanted in the worst way.
The parallel between the past—Eric James—and the present is unavoidable, even if I have done a damn good job of avoiding seeing it thus far.
I lie as I am, staring at EJ. After we made love he held me for ages and gradually lost his hold on me as he fell into sleep. That striking difference alone should keep Eric from my memory. He wasn’t a hold-you kind of guy after sex; it was more of a you-hold-him kind of thing.
I study each detail of EJ’s beautiful face. He’s nothing like Eric James, beyond that he’s breathtakingly good-looking, that in such a short time he’s become so dear to me, that he can set my body on fire with his, and I had to have him even knowing that I shouldn’t.
In every other way they’re nothing alike. Eric James wasn’t sweet and thoughtful. He was bad-boy mysterious and thrilling. Eric had black hair, and I know EJ’s is really blond from the light golden spray across his body. Eric had that sexy British accent, and EJ’s voice is husky, low American. Their builds are different. EJ’s more muscular. Eric’s skin, especially his back, was covered in tats, and EJ has only a spray of ink on his shoulder and biceps.
Reaching up, I caress EJ’s cheek, enjoying the feel of running the tips of my fingers across his beard. Eric was too full of himself ever to mask his handsome face with a beard. Then my hand wanders over his shoulder to his back. I feel the tiny puckered scars I’d touched last night while we made love. My finger searches and finds another, then more.
His eyes don’t open, but he exhales and I quickly pull back my hand. I close my eyes. I can’t deny that when I look at him my thoughts spiral into a tangled web with images of the past.
Emotion makes me suddenly tired, dog tired, and I want to sleep but I can’t. I feel shaky good and shaky anxious. Probably because so much has happened since my breakfast date with EJ and that wasn’t even twenty-four hours ago. My life that’s been like a stalled train on the tracks has moved at breakneck speed since I lowered my walls enough to let EJ in. That’s another way this has been like Eric James, and it’s not a comforting memory to recall that ended with me smashing full force into catastrophe.
Suddenly, I feel the need to put a bit of distance between us. The thoughts in my head have returned to a troubling blend. I’m disappointed that they’re marring what’s been the most incredible night I’ve ever spent with a man. I’ve got to pull it together before EJ wakes. It’s going to be hard enough getting through our first morning together without him clouding my emotions.
The past is the past.
This is my now and I’ve got to figure out how to be completely in it. I’ve spent too many years held in the void caused by hurt and my unanswered questions because of Eric James.
I carefully climb out of bed, grab my cell off the night table, and head into the bathroom. From the hook on the door, I take my long white fuzzy robe, pull it on, and then move to the kitchen.
Leaning into the window above the sink, I spot the lights on in Ivy’s house. Remembering that other revelation from last night—her being EJ’s sponsor—I know talking with her is a must even if I wasn’t hard pressed to run to her first with all the details after having slept with EJ. It still stings that she didn’t tell me of their involvement, and I dislike feeling she’s been secretive with me.
I need to have her explain that one to me so we can move past it fast and I can progress to trying to make sense with Ivy of my feelings for EJ. I definitely need someone to tell me I’ve not lost my mind getting involved with him. There’s no one else in my life I can think things through faster with than her and I’ve got a lot I need to think through this morning.
I check the clock above the oven. It’s 5:00 a.m. I wonder if she’s awake. It’d be rude to text her if she isn’t. I reach for my phone anyway.
Me: You up?
Ivy: Yes, what’s going on?
Me: Can I come over? I could really use a cup of coffee and a friend right now.
Ivy: Did something happen at dinner last night? Are you all right?
Me: Yes. No. Not really sure. Too much has happened. I don’t know what to think or feel about any of it.
A rough breath pushes out of my lungs now that I’ve put what I’m feeling down and can see my thoughts in words. I wait for an Ivy inquisition. No bouncing ball. No rapid reply. My anxiety stretches and then there’s a ding.
Ivy: I’ll make coffee. Come over. Front door will be unlocked.
IVY IS SITTING AT her small dinette set with two mugs poured, waiting for me. Her face clouds over when she sees me.
“Willow, what happened?”
Oh no…I must look as discomposed as I feel. I shake my head, trying to organize my thoughts and get a grip on my emotions as I sink down on the chair across from her.
“It’s EJ, isn’t it?” She has an exceptional gift for getting at the heart of things without being told any details. Though probably not very exceptional in this circumstance since she knows I had dinner with him last night. “He finally told you everything, didn’t he? Are you all right, sweetie? I know it was hard to listen to what he had to tell you, but I’m glad you did.”
Her face—gee, it’s intense—momentarily blocks me from grasping the meaning of her words. My mouth opens then I swallow down what I’m about to say.
What does Ivy mean by everything?
Hard to listen to what he had to tell me?
I nod because I’m suddenly more interested to see whe
re her thoughts are going to take us than mine.
“It must have come as a shock to you,” she says, her voice gentle. She leans across the table, her eyes bright with concern as she puts her arms around me and hugs me tight. “You’ve got to know, if I didn’t think he was sincere, I would have never kept my mouth shut this long. I had to let EJ do it his way. But now we’re here. He’s finally told you the truth and the only thing that matters is how you are, Willow.”
“Overwhelmed.” It’s the best that I can do, and it’s the truth. Overwhelmed by what happened with EJ and overwhelmed by whatever this is with Ivy. “I woke up this morning quite shaken.”
“I’m not surprised. I can’t even imagine what it felt like for you to hear the truth about what happened between the two of you after all these years.”
Hear the truth about what happened between us?
I stare at her as she does a quick visual checkup on me. Damn, she’s waiting for a response. “Last night was unexpected in a lot of ways. It’s hard to know what to feel.”
Ivy nods firmly. “He loves you. I can see how that’d blindside you. I’m not even a part of this, and it laid me flat when he first showed up in Capitol Hill at one of my NA meetings, telling me out of one side of his mouth how he wanted to make amends to you for what he did and in the next breath how he loves you. I wasn’t exactly his biggest fan seven years ago.”
Her head tilts to the side, her expression an Ivy mime of disapproval as she waits for me to catch up to her, but I can’t. Seven years ago? Why did Ivy go there…and then the blood halts in my veins because I know.
My thoughts and emotions are a frantic whirlpool inside me. It’s as if I’m plunged into murky water, sinking farther and farther into a darkness I don’t want to go into and can’t escape.
Everything makes sense, too quickly, at once.
Why I’ve been dreaming of Eric James.
Why I’m obsessed with EJ.
Why he’s the only man to attract my notice since Dean.