I wiped my hands on my jeans once more, and walked over to her. I reached for her and she didn’t resist. “I don’t like not knowing why Mikey tried to hurt you.” I squeezed her hands once. “I sit here day in and day out, wondering if I’m losing what makes me strong. I know you doubt me sometimes, but Willow—” I brought both her hands to my face, guiding them from my ears to my lips. I wanted her to feel my words as I spoke them. “I know I messed up in Vegas. I know I’m the reason for you almost being injured in New York. I know I hurt you, and I know that is hard for you to forget.”
I pulled her along with me, as I backed up and took a seat on a stool. Placing my hands on her hips, I turned her around and sat her in my lap. I spoke into her shoulder as I admitted what had taken over my thoughts—to the point I couldn’t sleep—since it had happened. “The truth is, I feel guilty. Everything negative that has happened to you has been because of me. I’ve hurt you, and I’ve put you in danger, even though I had no knowledge of it.”
She tilted her head to the side, then rubbed my jaw with her forehead. Hot breaths tickled my cheek as she kissed her way to my ear. I squeezed her middle and kept my arms wrapped firmly around her, caging her in, keeping her firmly planted on my lap.
“I want you to understand that, even though things aren’t perfect right now, I will fight for us with everything I have. I will never give up on us. I promise.” I grabbed her pinky, and linked it with mine. “There is nothing that will ever come between us again. Not my thoughts, not an ex, and not my drinking.” I kissed her thumb, solidifying my word.
She rose and turned around, facing me. Placing one leg on each side of mine, she spread her legs wide, pushing herself up into my lap. She wrapped her legs around me, locking her ankles around my waist, inching her ass closer, until she’d closed the gap between our bodies. My body roused, coming to life as her ass sunk lower, giving me all her weight. I closed my eyes at the feel of her. I’d never wanted to kiss her so bad.
Neither of us spoke as she wrapped her arms around my neck, using the leverage to inch closer. So close, I could feel every inch of her through her flimsy shorts. My body burned with desire. Grabbing two handfuls of her ass, I started a slow, methodical rock, sliding across her heated core.
“Don’t ever feel guilty for something you have no control over. Mikey did what he did,” she said, continuing to follow my lead. “He’s in jail now, and once his trial is over, he’ll be back in prison.” She brought her lips to my jaw, barely skimming across my skin. Her warm breath caressed my cheek light as a feather. “I believe you when you tell me you won’t drink anymore, it’s just that—” Her back arched in my arms, her face almost even with my own. “I know what it’s like. Craving something. I know what it’s like, chasing that first high. It’s always in the back of your mind, taunting you—teasing you. The moment something doesn’t go right, it’s right there, begging you to come back, so you can at least forget for a little while.”
I gritted my teeth at the friction we were creating, and blew out a heavy breath. “It won’t. I won’t let it.”
“It will. It always does. I still think about it, Conner.” She groaned and moved her hips in circles over my erection.
I tugged on her hair with one hand, pulling her head back, while the other slid down the back of her shorts, grabbing on to her ass cheek. “The reason either of us did what we did, I’ll never fully understand. But I do know I never had you in the equation. I’ve done the math. Adding alcohol in only subtracts you.” I nipped at her chin. “In my mind, no matter what kind of high I gain, in the end, I will lose you. And I’m not willing to let that happen. Ever.”
I looked up just in time to catch the first tear spill from the corner of her eye, disappearing into her hair. It broke me and gave me peace at the same time. I let go of her hair and her face was level with mine. I ran the pad of my thumb over her cheek as a second tear fell.
“You made me cry.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I hate you.”
I wanted to lick every last tear track on her cheeks. I wanted them to disappear. I wanted them to have never been there in the first place.
“You love me, baby. And I love you.” I kissed her neck. Once, twice, three times, while she ran her fingers through my hair.
Leaning into her body, I pushed us up from the stool, and gently carried her over and set her down on the tool bench. It didn’t occur to me to go slow. Getting inside the woman I loved was the only thought I had. That, and knowing that no matter what happened next week—or next year, or five years from now—I was never letting her go.
She pulled her T-shirt and sports bra off in one swift movement. Then leaned from side to side as I helped her out of her cotton shorts and panties. She sat completely naked in front of me, spread wide. No lingerie, no makeup, and her hair was a mess, but she had never looked more beautiful to me.
Her hands moved quickly, discarding my T-shirt. Then her feet followed suit, pushing my shorts down my hips. In one swift movement, she scooted to the end of the bench and leaned back, wrapping her legs around my hips. Grabbing hold of myself, I guided my way inside, finding heaven on Earth. I could have wept at how good she felt. Her hips synced with mine; the transition so smooth, it was like she was made specifically for me.
Her sighs and moans drove me half mad. I went from thoroughly enjoying myself, to not caring if I ever got off again, as long as she did. I leaned into her, wrapping my arms around her back. Taking her breast into my mouth, I sucked hard, causing her nipple to pucker. I licked around the areola, making her moan again as I continued to plunge harder each time.
I looked up at her, and fell in love all over again. Her eyes were closed tight, as if she was experiencing so much pleasure, it was borderline pain. Her lips parted, and she let out shallow breaths, letting me know she was chasing her release. There was something about being present in that moment with her, watching her ride her own wave of ecstasy that had my insides twisting in so many knots, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to untangle them.
I brought my palms to either side of her face. My torso wasn’t touching hers, but I wanted it like that. I wanted to watch her. She pulled, pushed, and tugged on my wrists, bringing her hips up to meet mine in what seemed like a million miles a second. In the past, I tried a total of two times to not come before my partner. Neither of those times worked. But this…this was something different. My body knew automatically that it was giving, and wouldn’t be receiving until Willow was limp in my arms.
“I love you.” I hadn’t wanted to interfere with her blissful state, but I couldn’t help it. I needed her to know that I would die for her. I would work three jobs for her if it meant keeping a roof over her head. She had to realize that I understood what my past addiction would cost me if it raised its ugly head again, and from this point forward, I would never risk what I had with her for something as paltry as a drink.
When her breathing evened out, I focused on where our bodies met, watching as I pushed in and out, as deep as I could go, until I grunted out my own release.
Feeling a hundred pounds heavier, I limply fell atop her sweaty skin, still joined.
She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed, clearly having more energy than I had. “I love you, Conner. More than anything.”
I rubbed her back, letting her words wash over me, comforting me after I’d laid my whole heart on the table for her, bare. Every scar, every fear, every inconsistent beat, she’d seen. I closed my eyes, praying she’d still want it in the morning, after she had time to think about all I’d shown her. My scars told the story, and unfortunately, it was a messy one.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Willow
“Momma, I’m home!” I yelled from the front door, knowing she was in the kitchen, whipping up my favorites because I was visiting. She couldn’t resist.
Faster than I expected her to move, she was on me within seconds. Her arms engulfed my whole body, and she held on tighter than I remembered she could.
I loved her hugs. She put every ounce of feeling she had into them. By the time she let go, I knew exactly how much she’d missed me.
I pulled the cute purple bag out from behind me. “Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Oh, Willow.” She wiped her hands on her dish towel. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Having you home is enough.”
“I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks when she pulled the quilt from the bag. Her hands held it at one end as she unfolded it, so she could see the whole thing. I knew I had nailed it, and it made me feel good.
“Sweetie. I don’t know what to say.” She covered her mouth with her hand, shocked and grateful at the same time.
“Isn’t it cool? I thought you could put it on my old bed, since you needed a new one.”
My mom’s eyes never left the quilt. She ran her hand over each picture of us, as if she were going over every moment in her mind. She didn’t speak for a while. I couldn’t help but get a little emotional myself. We’d been through a lot. Most of it hell, and all of it my fault. But there were moments in between where we just loved each other. There were times when my mom was my best friend—my only friend—and there were times where I made her proud.
“This is the best present I’ve ever received. Thank you so much.” We held each other for the longest moment. It felt good knowing I’d made her happy. “I know you already know this, but…I’m so proud of you. Of the woman you’ve become.”
“Momma, stop. You’re going to make me cry.” I kissed her cheek.
“Oh, all right. Let’s eat. That will calm us down.” She folded the quilt and I followed her to the kitchen.
My mouth watered when I saw the quiche. She’d made my favorite, on her day. God, I loved her. As I gathered the plates, my insides pinched, knowing Conner was training—working his ass off for another opportunity. He wasn’t reminiscing with his mom about the good ol’ days, nor was he getting his favorite meal made for him with love.
“What are you thinking about? You’re frowning,” Mom said while bringing the napkins to the table.
“Conner.”
“What about him?”
“He’s just…he doesn’t have what I have, you know?” I bowed my head, thinking about my past. “Like me, he’s, uh…made mistakes, and his mom isn’t in his life.”
“That’s awful.” She patted my hand. “From everything you’ve told me about him, he seems like a wonderful young man.”
“He is, Mom. He’s loving and loyal. He always puts me first, no matter what’s going on. I just get so pissed off that he’s had to go through most of his life with little to no support. And I can’t help but think about what I put you through—the bad decisions I’ve made—yet you’ve never disowned me. You’ve always loved me, even when I didn’t love myself.”
“And I always will, sweetie.” She rubbed my arm and pulled me in for a hug. “I know you said you were taking it slow, but I’d like to meet Conner one of these days. You said it yourself, you love him, right?”
“I do.” I smiled, not even realizing it, until I relaxed my cheeks.
“I can see that.” She grinned. “What’s the harm in your mother meeting the man you love?”
“None, I guess.” I shrugged. “I just feel like I should tread lightly where moms are concerned, you know?”
“I get it. We’ll take it slow.” She nodded. “Maybe just a dinner?”
“Okay, we can do that.”
***
When I entered Conner’s backyard, it was nearly ten o’clock. “Hey, guys.”
Steele and Conner paused their conversation, as Conner stood up and greeted me with a kiss on the lips. “How was your mom?”
“She’s really good. She loved the quilt.”
“I knew she would. You worry too much about shit that doesn’t matter.” Steele and I both laughed, even though it wasn’t exactly a compliment.
“What have you guys been grilling?” I could still feel the heat radiating off the metal lid.
“Meat,” Steele said, flicking a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “All the meat.”
“Kind of late for dinner.” I ran a hand over the knotted muscles of Conner’s back. “You need rest.” I massaged the hard lumps at the base of his neck.
He made a sound normally saved for a private setting. “I wanted to wait for you to get home.”
“Richard is coming in for this fight,” Steele mentioned from the patio chair.
“Doesn’t he usually?” I’d never met him formally, but he normally made an appearance where a lot of money would be concerned.
“Yeah,” Steele answered. “But this time he should have another contract in hand. If Payne wins, it could change his life.”
“He’s going to win,” I said with no hesitation.
“I just want to make sure you’re ready mentally,” Steele said, and nodded toward Conner. “I know you don’t like the fame shit, but that’s part of it. You saw in New York—” He closed his mouth, taking in Conner’s facial expression.
“I get it,” Conner clipped. “I’ll do what I gotta do.”
“I’ve been thinking,” I said to change the direction of bad memories. “I’ve seen on social media how curious people are about you. The one interview we did kept most of them at bay. Maybe if we did another one, where I kept the questions focused on the sport and your future in the cage, it would tamp down some of the eagerness about wanting to know more about you.”
“I don’t want to do that. Look,” he blew out a frustrated breath, “I know keeping myself private only adds to the curiosity, but I can’t have the general public knowing what I’ve gone through. I just can’t.”
“Okay.” I eyed Steele, letting him know our conversation was over.
“We’ll do a light workout tomorrow,” Steele added. “Then…it’s fucking game time. You got this, man.”
“Thanks.” Conner leaned into me and kissed my cheek. “I’m going to hit the shower.” Silence fell over the backyard as he went inside the house.
“I’m worried,” I admitted as soon as I heard the click from the sliding glass door.
“Me too,” Steele agreed. “I kind of feel responsible. I mean, I pushed him into this, and Willow—he’s not ready. Not mentally.”
“I know. What do I do?” I asked.
“Just be by his side. He’s doing this for you, not for himself.”
“Me?” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I’m very careful about his fights and my opinion of them.” Conner was aware of my distaste for seeing him hurt, but I was supportive. I kept myself in the loop, always wanting to learn more, so that he felt like he had someone in his corner. Someone who loved him, no matter the outcome.
“He wants a future with you, doll. He wants you taken care of.”
“I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.” Doubt crept into my mind at my words.
“I know you can. He knows you can. But he wants to do it,” he said. “He’s never shown me his true potential before meeting you. He’s going to blow this sport up, Willow. I just hope you’re ready, because he isn’t. And trust me,” he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, “he will need you when all the noise gets too loud.” For the first time since I’d met him, I saw shadows in Steele’s eyes. His vulnerability was hard to watch.
I closed the distance between us and rubbed his shoulder, feeling like he needed comfort. “Hey,” I said. “I got him. I promise, whatever happens, I’ve got him.”
He scooted his chair back and stood. “God, if that douchebag doesn’t marry you, I will.”
I giggled and brought him in for a hug. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ve barely made it to the point where I’ll pee in front of him.”
“Damn, girl. You sure know how to kill a mood.” His right eyebrow rose just a hair. “Or start one. Now, I’m picturing you with your pants down.” He made his way toward the side of the house
, whistling.
“Goodnight, pervert.” I walked to the patio door, chuckling. I was so glad Conner had him. I believed in quality over quantity where friends were concerned, and he was a good one. I knew he loved my man, and would do anything for him. For me, it lessened my load somewhat, knowing there was at least one more person Conner could count on for things that I didn’t understand.
Conner was setting his alarm when I finished brushing my teeth. I slid under the covers and curled my legs so that my backside fit perfectly into his body.
“I love you,” he said as he wrapped an arm around me.
I hugged his arm tighter around my waist. “My mom wants to meet you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. She’s mentioned it twice now, so unless you want me to suffer twenty questions every time I talk to her, you’re going to have to take one for the team.”
He pulled on my shoulder until I turned around, so that we were facing each other. Darkness surrounded us, but I could see the blue in his eyes from the moonlight coming in through the window. His hand brushed the side of my hair softly. “Meeting your mom is no hardship. She’s a part of you.”
“I’d like to meet yours too.”
“Willow, I can’t—we’ve talked about this before, and I give you the same answer each time.” He rolled onto his back, and placed his palms over his eyes.
“But you haven’t tried to contact her in so long, maybe she’s changed her mind.”
He sighed. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do. And I appreciate the fact that you care. But—”
“But what?” I asked.
“I’m trying to say this and not sound like a dick.”
“Go on.” I knew he was going to sound like a dick.
He dropped his hands and looked at me. “You have to leave it alone. What’s done is done. It puts me on edge when you talk about it. Stop. Please?”
I frowned, knowing no matter what I said, he wasn’t going to hear it. Feeling defeated, I rolled back to my other side.
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