I pull my lips from his, and push at his chest. “Why do you love me? How can you still want me? I can’t give you what you deserve, Noah. We shouldn’t be together.” Tears roll down my cheeks. I thought for sure they dried up from all the crying I’ve done over this, but alas, they’re relentless; they’re always there to remind me of my flaws.
“Where the hell is this coming from, baby? I started dating you with this knowledge beforehand. I deliberated and came to the conclusion that there are no guarantees in life. Babe, I want you. Anything else that comes afterwards will be a bonus.” His lips graze the tip of my nose; my tears are still warm against my cheeks. I want so much to believe him, but I don’t. I believed Kurt once, and it turned out I alone wasn’t enough after all.
“I don’t know,” is all I can say in return. I can’t tell him I agree because I’m still so torn. I’m stuck in the tough spot between right and wrong, and even though I have Noah’s heart and his kind words as the assurance I need, I still can’t put all my faith in him. I’m too wounded to trust that deeply. “Can we not talk about this now?” I plead. It’s all too much—the hurricane, coming home with him, meeting his parents, asking me to move in with him—and my brain is on overload.
The only way to calm it and get it out of the danger zone is to give in to the feelings that got me here in the first place. “I need you, Noah,” I cry. I want his hands, his tongue, his heart, to wash away my pain. “I need you so much I can’t think straight. Make love to me.” I wrap my arms around his neck and the last tear falls as if it represents the end of all this sadness.
I have to believe him. I need to believe I’m enough. In his arms, underneath his body, I always am. He tells me he loves me. He shows me by giving himself to me. I see how important it is to him that I’m a part of every aspect of his life. All of this combined proves my biggest fear to be void. I am enough. I make him happy. I’m all he needs.
So why can’t I believe it?
“Make love to me . . .”
She doesn’t have to say that fucking twice.
“Come here,” I command. My eyes devour her; my cock is already hard and throbbing against my jeans, begging to plunge into her addictive warmth.
She responds to my palpable demand, her eyes dark and heady with the same need that courses through my veins. There’s something off, just a faint hint of iciness that I intend to thaw away with my hands all over her beautiful body. She has reservations, fears, insecurities that don’t mean a fucking thing to me. I wish she knew how much I love her—all those things included. Words sometimes aren’t enough, so I’ll show her. Make her never forget.
Dipping down to nip her neck, I palm her ass and grind our bodies together. The friction causes a delicate moan to escape her. “I love it when you purr like a kitten.”
She giggles against my neck. Her hand sketches a dick-jolting trail along my shoulders and back.
The sound of her happiness brings a contented smile to my busy lips. “I love making you do that too. Those little giggles sound like the sweetest music. They make me happy.” My lips glide over hers, pause and linger as they appreciate her delicious flavor. Mint and honey—I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s all Willow and I’ve grown to love that too.
“I love your unique taste, baby. It’s toxic—in a good way. An innocuous poison that keeps me coming back for more the way a junkie needs his fix.”
She kisses me back. Her tongue strokes mine, torments me with my favorite drug. Willow.
“I know what you’re doing, you know?” She speaks against my lips as her fingers rake through my hair.
I break our kiss and stare into her eyes affectionately. “I’m making love to you. Just like you asked.”
One brow arched, she places her hands on either side of my face. “No, you’re coddling me. And as sweet as it is, it’s not necessary. I don’t doubt your love for me, Noah. And you never need to doubt mine for you.” Her hand drops to my chest. One push and I’m against the wall. I nearly gasp, but smile instead when she grips my shoulders and lets her nails dig into my skin. “But I don’t want to think about all the things that make my mind run in circles. The point of this—of us together—is to make that all go away. So, in case I wasn’t clear before: I love you, everything about you. I love how you make love to me and how it takes me away to our own special place far from reality. Right now, though—I need you to fuck me. I need you to turn my brain off completely. I need all five senses to drown in you, and I don’t want to come up for air until I can’t take one more second of how good you make me feel.”
“If that’s not the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever heard—” I can’t even finish the fucking sentence. My tongue won’t wait another second to taste her. She may want control, but there’s no way I’ll submit. She’s mine. It’s time to show her.
Her sweater is soft in my hands as I pull it over her head. My eyes scan her body; I take in every inch of her goose-bumped skin. Her silky olive tone and sexy delicate muscles give a whole new meaning to the phrase eye-candy. I admire the tiny beauty mark that stands out against her flawless skin right above her belly button and the trail of adorable freckles blanketing her graceful shoulders. I’m unable to curb my hunger any longer. I unhook her bra; her hypnotic perfume drifts from her cleavage and I inhale deeply. “Delicious,” I growl. My tongue darts out to taste her.
Her head falls back; wisps of wavy hair graze my hands and tickle me. I don’t laugh though, because her tits are front and center, waiting to be devoured, and that’s some serious shit right there. With her chest arched toward me and granting me access, I swirl my tongue around her beaded nipple, finally draw it into my mouth, and suck.
“Oh yes,” she purrs in that way that drives me wild. “Just like that.”
I smile against her chest, then take turns with both nipples by pinching them between my fingers and nibbling them with my teeth. Her body quakes against mine, her knees become wobbly and weak. I anchor her by the waist in a strong grip to keep her steady, and fight the urge to dig my fingers into her supple flesh. It’s hard not to push every single limit.
Her hands become restless, skim my upper body and then fumble with the button of my jeans. “Off. Now.”
Our hands work together to unfasten my pants with whirlwind speed. I tug them down and kick them to the side. “Seems we have a thing for kitchens and tables, but I’d love to continue this upstairs in my bed.”
Without hesitation, she sheds the rest of her clothes and dangles the last of them—her black thong—from her index finger. “Lead the way.”
I clamp my lips together to stop myself from drooling. “Not a chance in hell. I’ll point you in the right direction so I can watch that sexy ass sway on the way up the stairs.” I spin her around by her shoulders to guide her to the stairway. My eyes land on the two dimples right above her perky cheeks. “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” I hum with an adolescent smack of my lips. But before I can reach out and grab her, she runs ahead of me. I catch up to her on the stairwell and slap her ass as she tries to escape.
“Ow! That hurt!” she cries as she eyes me over her shoulder. “But I totally liked it.” Her devilish grin stiffens my cock even more.
“Good, because there’s more where that came from, and you’ve been a very bad girl.”
“Is that so?” She’s breathless from bounding up the steps two at a time.
I narrow a ravenous gaze at her as I cage her in my arms against the wall.
“Then punish me. Show no mercy. I want you so deep my legs still tremble tomorrow.”
Jesus Christ, this woman can talk dirty. “You’ve been holding out. Yet another side of Willow Jones to fucking love.” My mouth smashes against hers, hard and fast.
“Take me,” she whimpers. “Take me now.”
Fuck the bed. Beds are for boring good girls.
I yank my shirt over my head and slide the confining boxer briefs down my legs. Free at last, I almost sigh. My dick is now front-row ready for the ma
in event. “Hold on to my shoulders,” I growl. She’s weightless as I lift her up and pin her against the wall. My lips attack hers.
She does as I say; her nails dig into the skin on my back. I waste no time preparing her for my cock—she’s ready. So wet and eager, my dick is jealous of my fingers—those fingers that have the honor of parting her glistening lips. I push into her with dizzying force. “Fuck!” I scream as I enter her, balls deep. She wants to be fucked? That’s what she’ll get.
“Harder,” she cries. She thuds against the wall as she uses it for leverage.
I pull back, then thrust even deeper. Her legs tighten around me as she screams. “Oh! God! Yes!”
“It’s just me. Give me credit where it’s due, baby. God has nothing to do with this.”
“Fuck me, Noah! Just like that.”
Her heels dig into my ass, and it drives me faster. Sweat starts to bead on our skin as we work up a rhythm that knocks an old photograph off the wall. We pay no attention to the crashing glass, enraptured by the way our bodies move together like a well-oiled machine. The metaphor pops into my mind; maybe not sexy, but it urges me to jackhammer into her.
The strain of keeping her elevated enough to fuck as hard as she craves becomes a distraction so I lower her to the floor and spin her around so her back presses against my chest. The wooden stair railing is sturdy—I built it myself—so I lean her over it and take her from behind. I pound into her with my fingers burrowed into her tiny waist.
She never misses a beat; she meets each and every thrust. Her hair cascades down her lean back and begs to be tugged. It’s so long, I wrap it around my wrist twice and pull until her head jerks backward.
“Yes! Yes!” she cries. She’s urging me to punish her. It’s a new thing for us—the bad girl act—but I love it as much as all the others we’ve played out in bed.
Holding her hair as I grind against her ass, I wind up and slap her cheek with an audible smack. She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she moans, and her body arches as I ride her faster.
I wonder where the sudden need to submit comes from. There’s usually an equal amount of control between us, but tonight she’s mine to do whatever I like. Bending her over until she can almost kiss her knees is obviously something she’s into.
I follow her lead even though I’m obviously the one manning this ship, and give her everything I’ve got. I want her to come before me—tonight is all about her—but I’m on the brink and holding back is nearing impossible. Reaching around between her thighs, I rub her clit as I rock into her. Her legs start to quiver as her wet core tightens around my cock. She’s close. I feel it. I know her so well, I can tell when her body is about to let go. It’s maddening and gratifying at the same time, to know someone so profoundly you can sense their reactions before they even happen. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” The double meaning lingers in the air as she constricts around me.
“Oh, Noah!” she moans while fisting the railing in a death grip.
She’s swept up in her climax and barely notices when I remove my fingers from her clit and suck my fingers. Jesus, what her delicious release does to me! “So good, Willow. Ride my cock while you come. Let it all go. Give me all of you.”
I bury myself with one last powerful plunge and empty into her mind-altering heat. She doesn’t protest when I yank her by the waist and collapse against her soft, sweaty skin. “Holy fucking shit! That was—”
“Exactly what I needed.” She completes my sentence, and allows me to hold on to her for as long as it takes to come down from our high.
“Ready to head back?” I kiss her bare shoulder. If we could stay holed up here for the remainder of our trip, I’d be happier than a pig in shit. But we can’t. Reality is right outside that door, knocking loudly, and we need to face it. And I’m not just talking about the hurricane. Willow’s got some serious doubts she’s been doing a good job of hiding. I don’t know what triggered them to come out and play, but I’m not a fool and I can tell she’s still not at ease. Sex distracted her for the time being, and I don’t want to prod her for more than she’s willing to discuss, but I can’t let her withdraw again. I don’t like when she second-guesses this—us. This woman is mine and I’m not letting go. Can’t she just accept that?
I want to focus on showing her how much I love her. I’m pretty certain I proved my case back there on the staircase and then again on my bedroom floor just a few minutes ago. But now she’s quiet and I can’t read the depths of her mind. If I could, I’d find a way to exterminate all her worries and fears like nasty vermin that have no place taunting her in the first place. I know she fears I’ll change my mind about the kid thing, but I won’t. I’ve always wanted kids, I can’t lie about that, but when I think about a life without Willow—it’s unfathomable. I can live without kids. I can’t live without her. I’ve never felt this way about a woman. I live to love her—it sounds sick, but it’s true. Life before her was dull and colorless. Ever since we’ve been together I see things differently and I never want to go back to that dark, empty world again.
Sprawled across my unmade bed, she stretches and emits the cutest sounds known to man. If she keeps purring like that I might have to pin her down for round three. “I wish we could just stay here,” she admits with an adorable pout. “But I’ve yet to meet your dad, and I know tomorrow will be a busy day. So, as much as I hate to get out of this bed, the party’s over.”
“No fucking way. It’s just getting started, babe. We’ve got all the time in the world to party hard and live it up. Together. We just have to do a little relocating for the time being.” I plan to keep dropping hints about our future. I don’t need more time to know I’m right. She’s the one for me, and I need her to know it without spooking her again. “Are you happy?” It rolls off my tongue like brain vomit.
“Of course, I’m happy. Aren’t you?” She jumps into a sitting position, her head tilted.
I join her propped against the headboard, free to trace circles over her bare thigh and take in her graceful beauty. “Happier than I’ve ever been. I want to stay this way forever, Willow. Do you?”
I bring my eyes to hers, where I hope to find honesty in her expression. When a person lies or doubts, they look down. They turn to escape the other person’s scrutiny. To my satisfaction, Willow’s hazel eyes meet mine with a sparkle of contentment that couldn’t be masked even if she tried.
I stop her before she has the chance to answer. “You don’t have to say a word. I know you do too. I can see it on your face. Your features are relaxed.” I bring my hand to her chest, resting my palm against it. “Your heart isn’t nervous. Your skin isn’t flushed. You’re at peace when you’re beside me. Doesn’t that tell you something?” I’m desperate for her to understand. “Can’t you listen to your heart and stop worrying about everything else? Don’t you trust me, Willow?”
Something changes and her eyes well up with tears. She brings her hands up to her face.
My heart sinks in my chest. “What is it, baby? Why do you get so upset every time I bring up the future? What are you afraid of?” I never cry. I’m pretty sure my tear ducts are busted or something like that. My body goes through the motions of grief, but never truly gets the release that washes it all away and brings relief. In this moment, I want to cry for her. I feel the lump in my throat ready to explode so that real tears can burst through and rid my heart of the pain it feels for this woman. Somehow I prevent it, but my body tenses. I worry that no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to fix the things that make Willow feel that she’s broken.
She lets out a sob that nearly breaks me in two. I’m a strong man, but there’s only so much I can take. I allow her to purge her deepest fears in hopes it will remedy her pain. “I won’t be enough. I know you say I am, but that’s now. I’ve been down this road before, Noah. Things change. But I don’t want to be the one to change your dreams. It’s normal to want children. That’s the natural next step when two people start a future together. A legacy—i
t’s the whole point of life. Who will tell our story? Who will be left to remember us when we’re gone?”
I understand everything she says. I get it in theory, but maybe I can’t fully comprehend the empty feeling she experiences by not being able to get pregnant. Without making light of her “flaws”, I hope to coax her with what my gut tells me to confess. “I need to say something without you freaking out. This one last thing before I beg you to stop doing this to yourself. Okay?”
She nods. Her hands tangled in her hair make it wild and unruly. Her blonde waves frame her tear stained face. Even like this, she’s so goddamn perfect and she doesn’t even know it because she’s so preoccupied by the one thing she feels makes her damaged. “Sure, say whatever you need to say. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t heard before from my mother or Sloane.”
I hate hearing her so cynical. To most men it would be a turn-off. To me, with Willow, it only makes me love her that much more. I can’t let her feel this way alone, and I won’t ever fault her for it. This is her burden and while I can’t fully carry it for her, I can let her know she doesn’t have to cart it along by herself. “Part of loving someone is loving all of them. This is part of who you are. I’m not defending your asshole ex, because let’s face it, he’s a prick for leaving you when the going got tough. But here’s why this is different—why I’m different. I knew this going in, Willow. I never treated you as an insignificant hook-up or a meaningless fuck, because that’s never what you were to me.
I lift my hand from her thigh, pick up her hand, and lace our fingers together. “That’s why I stayed away in the beginning. You’re too special. You deserve more. But here we are and I’m so in love with you, I can’t even think about a time when you weren’t a part of my life. I know what you can give me; I know what you can’t, and I swear to Christ I’m not going anywhere because you can’t have kids.” I pull her limp body onto mine and drape her limbs over me. I hug her so tightly our bodies feel one and the same. “I am not going anywhere, baby. Your mess is my mine. Good, bad, and all the in between, I’m here for you. For the rest of my life. Do you understand?”
After the Storm Page 18