by Ginger Scott
I feel him deep inside, and then I lift until he’s nearly gone. His fingers glide up my thighs to my hips, pausing as I slide down him again. His hands trail up my stomach, up my ribs, and to my breasts. His fingers stroke my hard peaks like feathers, and I shiver from his barely-there touch.
We move like this, in sync, every movement tender and carrying so many unspoken words. We make love as if it’s both the first time and the hundredth—everything new, yet every touch familiar. My body reacts to the pressure of him hitting me inside, and I cry out when the shudders that rush through me become unbearable. I ache for more as each wave passes until I can’t hold my need back any longer. I close my eyes and fall down on him hard, again and again until his hips begin to lift to meet me and his hands slide down to my hips, driving me down on him harder.
“Fuck, Maddy,” he groans, and I cry out with a new wave just as I feel his warmth fill me inside. Will rolls me to my back quickly, his hands digging into my ass while I grip his shoulders and he rocks into me three more times, his chest shuddering with his final pump.
I lie still while he pushes into me as deep as my body will accept him then lets his head fall against mine again. Our skin is moist, and his breath is hot. My hands reach for his face, my lips craving his kiss, but before I can reach him, Will stops me, backing away enough to look me in the eyes, his cock still hard inside me.
His right thumb runs along my cheek and his mouth curves up on one side. I shift and the feel of him in me makes me tingle in my core, and I cry out, begging. Will’s smirk grows larger.
“Give me the look,” he commands, reaching down and stroking me just where his cock is still buried.
My lips part and a desperate breath escapes my chest. I shake my head slightly and wiggle my hips, desperate to push him deeper. Just as I do, Will moves back, not leaving me completely, but enough that I feel empty and my body quivers with the slide of his dick inside.
“Look at me,” he lowers his chin, “like you want it.”
My breathing becomes hard to control, and I try to move my hips closer, but Will only holds me in place, his grasp on me firm. I whimper and stare him in the eyes as he bends down, his mouth covering mine and sweeping against my lips softly until I feel a rough edge glide against my top lip and move to my bottom. He nips at my lower lip, tugging it gently between his teeth and letting go, leaving me hungry and on the edge of another orgasm by just barely touching me.
“Maddy, you know how to look at me,” he says.
I breathe slowly through my nose, finally understanding. My mouth curves gradually as my eyes haze and center on his, my focus narrowing until I only see the blue.
Until I own him.
And then he owns me, driving deep inside, again and again while I cry out and cling to him, collapsing beneath the weight of his body as every muscle exhausts and becomes weak from his spell.
All of me is under his spell. I need Will Hollister, and whatever hurt I felt is nothing compared to the things his touch can do to me. I am numb.
I am his.
Chapter Fifteen
Will
The first time I felt what it was like to be inside Maddy, to push against her warm and soft body, claim her mouth for mine, touch her the way I’ve dreamt of touching her for literally years, it was rushed and desperate. It was fucking. It was amazing fucking, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what she deserved.
Last night was about showing her what she means to me. I consumed her. I tasted every inch of her body over three hours, and I made her cry my name a dozen times. We fell asleep with a full moon lighting up the room through our hotel window, and I held her naked body against mine, proud that our flesh was sticky from our sex.
But when I woke up to her asleep in my arms, my heartbeat began to race with the realization of what had happened. Reality came crashing in. Lust can cloud judgment, and last night was selfish of me. There are things in my life—promises I’ve made in my brother’s memory, that I won’t break…ever. When Dylan needs me, I’ll be there. When Tanya asks for support, I’ll give it. And none of that is on them, just like their lives that Evan left them with aren’t their doing.
I promised myself that I would be patient, let Maddy really see the baggage I carry. If it was meant to be, then at the end of everything, Maddy would be there, and she’d understand. Lying here, the room quiet, miles between us and our goals—her dream and destiny—anything feels possible. It also all feels impossible.
I stroke her hair, tucking behind her ear the same curl—the only one in a pile of twisted yet straight strands that zigzag over her pillow and on my arm. For the last hour, I’ve thought about waking her, about getting those last bits off my chest and explaining this distorted life I live. My mouth opens, though, and words are caught. I’m unable to make a sound. It’s because I’m selfish, and I just want to lay here like this—pretending she was always mine—until I have to give her up.
My phone dings for the third time in just as many minutes, so I carefully slide my arm from under her neck and turn to the small night table on my side of the bed. I rub my eyes to focus them better as Tanya’s messages come into view.
Dylan’s going in for some blood work. If you’re up, let me know.
I breathe in through my nose slowly and turn to the side to see the creamy skin of the girl who owns me wrapped up in a pile of white sheets. I draw my finger along her jaw and she wiggles a little, scrunching her nose, and eventually one eye creeps open.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice raspy and her smile crooked.
Skinny Elvis.
“Dylan has a few tests, and I think Tanya could use my help,” I say, trying to keep my voice barely above a whisper. It’s early yet, and I don’t want to completely wake her.
“Oh, well…give me a minute?” She begins to push the blankets down and move to the opposite edge of the bed, but I stop her with my hand on her arm.
“You stay here, get some more sleep. It’s probably going to be mostly sitting around,” I say, holding her eyes captive. My gut hurts looking at her because there are more things we need to discuss—more things she needs to know—things I should have finished telling her yesterday before I claimed her and took her for mine. But that’s not how things happened. My control with her is nonexistent, and when I feel her give, I take. I take before I think, because I’ve waited to have her for too long.
Maddy licks her lips slowly, but she lays back down in the sheets, her shoulder scrunching toward her head on one side in guilt.
“Are you sure? I could get ready quickly,” she says, yawning through the last word.
I chuckle.
“Positive,” I lean down and press my lips on her shoulder. The blanket slides down her body as I move toward her, exposing her breast, and the sight triggers the animal inside of me that wants to avoid its responsibilities and instead stay here and take that breast in its mouth, sucking her perfect pink nipple raw until her body writhes and begs for me to sink into her again.
She follows my gaze and her lips curve up slightly as her hands move to my head, gently coaxing me to become the beast, guiding my mouth to her crest.
“Ah,” I gasp, curling my chin into my chest in avoidance.
“What’s wrong, Will?” she teases. “Don’t you like me?”
I groan then breathe out a laugh.
“Maddy,” I say, glancing up enough to see her hard peak tempting me. I graze it with my nose and she arches her back, so I lick the tip once, then suck it hard before forcing myself to sit up completely. “If I keep going, I won’t stop.”
Her bottom lip puffs out and her eyes hit mine as she blinks at me once. I close my eyes, shaking my head while I laugh lightly, then lean forward and pull the blanket up her body, tucking in the sides as she snuggles farther into the pillow.
“You, are bad,” I tease, kissing her head and standing.
“You’re the one walking around naked,” she chirps.
I look over my shoulder as
I move across the room, and I wink before kicking my boxers into the bathroom along with my pants.
“Just wanted to make you watch me walk away, baby,” I tease.
She moans out a tired laugh, but I know she’s not far from falling asleep again. It’s not quite six in the morning, and the sun is barely up enough to spill light into our room. I get dressed quickly in the bathroom, then splash cold water on my face, forcing myself awake and washing away those last few temptations lingering in my memory.
I grip the sink on either side and lean close to the mirror, looking myself in the eyes, finally chuckling and shaking my head.
“Okay then,” I whisper to myself. I’m going to walk out this door toward responsibility, but I’m also going to hope like hell that Maddy is right where I left her when I return. I won’t touch her again until I’m sure she truly understands what she’s getting with me. That feeling of faith, though—it’s back. I believe in Maddy—I believe in me and Maddy. She’ll understand, and she’ll be here.
She’ll be mine.
I get to the hospital by six thirty, and Tanya is kicking a vending machine as I walk from the elevator on the fifth floor.
“Give it hell, girl,” I laugh. She twists her head, looking at me over her shoulder then kicks once more, following it up with a single, loud laugh.
“It’s stuck,” she shrugs.
I nudge my head to the side and she steps to the right as I grasp the corners of the machine and shake it for a few seconds; a pack of Funyuns finally falls down to the hatch at the bottom.
“Oh my god, thank you, Will!” she says, pushing me out of the way and kneeling to reach her hand inside. She grabs the bag and has it ripped open within seconds.
“Hungry?” My eyebrows are high.
She stuffs two rings in her mouth and holds her palm flat against her lips while she chews, lifting a finger with her other hand, the bag dangling in a tenuous grip between her thumb and pinky. The bag shakes, so I reach up and grab her wrist to steady it. I don’t like her pushing herself so hard…so hard that she doesn’t eat.
“Starving,” she says, finally, stuffing two more rings in her mouth.
“You should have called,” I smile. “We would have brought you food.”
Within a minute, she’s crumpling up the empty bag and moving down the hallway. I follow her, and we stop at the water fountain.
“I didn’t really sleep at all. I was too busy watching him sleep. They monitored him all night,” she says, words spilling from her mouth a mile a minute. She stops long enough to guzzle some water, then stands and runs her arm across her mouth. Her eyes are like saucers.
“Maybe drink a little coffee, did you?” I laugh.
She exhales heavily, her shoulders sagging while her head rolls around in a slow circle as she stretches her neck. I pull her in for a hug and rub the place where her neck meets her back and she sinks into me.
“I have had, maybe, a gallon of coffee—yet, somehow, I still feel like I could collapse right here on the floor and sleep for days,” she says, her voice muffled against my chest. “But my brain won’t slow down. That…that’s the coffee’s fault.”
Her body shakes while she laughs. I let go and she steps back one pace. My hands stay on her shoulders while I look at her—the tired is amplified today. She’s been hospitalized for exhaustion twice since Dylan was born, and I fear a third time is coming again.
“Let’s get this blood work done and then you are going to lie down somewhere…” She opens her mouth, and I know it’s to argue with me about all of the reasons she can’t leave. I cut her off before she can. “You can stay here, so you’ll be nearby and won’t miss any of the non-updates I’m sure you’ll get, but I insist on the resting part. You have a family room with a bed. You’re going to use it.”
She blinks twice, her mouth a flat line, and her chest rises once, exhaling in defeat.
“This whole thing is killing me,” she says, her eyes pooling and the whites turning red.
“I know it is, but we’ve made it here. You’ve gotten him the best help in the world, Tanya,” I say, shifting to walk alongside her and cradling her to my side with my arm.
She wrings her hands in front of her, her eyes wide as we move along the sterile hallway, nurses rushing by with charts and trays with meds piled high. Sometimes I wonder how Evan would have done with all of this—if he would have been present at all. I used to think he would have. I gave him credit, but perhaps that credit wasn’t due. Time takes people off pedestals, and it makes golden boys seem less gold.
I let Tanya take the lead, following her into Dylan’s room. He’s sedated, but he always sleeps peacefully. His hands are curled where they rest on his stomach, and there are wires taped to his body in at least a dozen different places. Tanya sits down in the chair pulled near his head, on the opposite side of the bed from me, and she holds on to his arm, hugging it with her fingers.
“He’s my whole life, Will. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says, reaching one hand up to sweep the long strands of brown hair dangling across his forehead out of the way.
“I know,” I say, dragging a chair closer from the other side of the room to sit and face her. I press my hand on Dylan’s other arm and squeeze once. He doesn’t stir at all.
“They have him knocked out. They said it makes the blood draw easier. Less…jerking,” she says.
I nod.
“How’d last night go?” I ask.
“No seizures, but we didn’t expect any. They’re going to monitor him again tonight, and take some readings. The doctor said he’ll know more after they run some tests. They’ll call me in a few weeks, and maybe Dylan will qualify for a trial, some drug that’s supposed to hold off the seizures, maybe make him hurt a little less,” she says.
I nod again, then let my eyes move from her to the sleeping boy between us. I spend minutes watching him breathe. Eventually, two nurses come in and begin to fill vials with his blood. Dylan sleeps through the entire thing. I wait for them to finish before stretching out my legs and pulling my phone from my pocket. I felt it buzz while they were working, and my pulse has been racing excitedly ever since. When I see Maddy’s name, my mouth forms its automatic reaction, my lip curled higher on the right, my cheeks round like a boy who has just been told he’s getting everything he wants for Christmas.
MADDY: I’m awake. If it’s not too far, I’ll cab it to the hospital. Maybe bring you and Tanya some real food?
“You’re in love with her, right?”
I close my eyes and let my phone fall with my hands to my lap, but my smile doesn’t waver. I open my gaze on Tanya, and she’s smirking at me. She nods with a slight laugh.
“It was painfully obvious the moment you introduced her to me,” she chuckles. “You can’t make eye contact with anybody or anything else when Maddy’s in the room.”
“That bad, huh?” I don’t argue, and it feels good to share this with someone.
“Pretty bad, Will,” she says, her head falling to one side and her eyes staying on mine. She studies me for a few seconds, and I grow warm under her gaze.
“What?” I finally ask, shifting in my seat and giving my attention to my phone in the brief pause before she answers. I type quickly, keeping the screen just out of Tanya’s view.
ME: Please come. Forget the food. I’m making Tanya nap.
“She was around for the accident. She’s known you for a while, yeah?” she asks. I hold her stare, and for a second I wonder if she’s put this together completely. I finally give her a small nod confirming her question. I feel a sick rush hit my gut, but just as I always do, I pretend. Her life…it’s hard enough, and Maddy agreed.
“She was around us both a lot, and they went to the same school,” I say, guilt slamming into me from all directions because of how Maddy fits into Tanya’s broken puzzle.
My phone buzzes again, and this time I don’t even hide how excited I am to get a message from Maddy. It’s a small heart image. It�
�s stupid and childish, and I fucking love it.
“She loves you, too,” Tanya says, breaking me from my momentary giddiness. I glance up and our eyes lock. All I can do is give her a crooked smile, and hope like hell she’s right. “I like her, Will. I like you liking her.”
I look back down to the phone in my palms, to the stupid heart—pink and cartoonish. I breathe out a short laugh and nod my head.
“Thanks,” I say.
Maddy ended up bringing food anyhow, and after we all scarfed down burgers and fries, she insisted Tanya head to the hotel for a little while to shower and get some sleep. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe her state, so she didn’t argue, and I was glad. Maddy and I stayed with Dylan, and Tanya was back after a few hours, refreshed, but still not quite whole. She may never be whole, but she fakes it pretty damn well.
We all ended up staying in the hospital the second night. When Dylan had a seizure, Maddy refused to leave Tanya alone. I tried to explain that those weren’t anything new for him, that Tanya was used to them, but Maddy was running on adrenaline, and I know that sometimes it’s just better to let her win.
The exhausting marathon day and night has left everyone spent, and while I work to stave off the onset of a panic attack as I lay down on four seats by our airport gate, I worry that I’m really going to have to survive this trip alone. Maddy hasn’t let go of my hand once—clinging to my fingers during the drive and through every second of check-in, parting only for security—and only long enough to pass through the X-Ray machine one at a time. Her hand is in mine now, but there’s no strength in her grip. Her head is leaned the opposite way, her cheek smooshed against her fist, her body one nudge away from toppling over completely.
My heart is racing, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the flight or her. The woman at the gate begins to deliver garbled instructions, and I listen just well enough to recognize that we should be called to board in about five minutes. I swing my feet around, but don’t let go of Maddy’s hand. She startles, rubbing her face and looking at me, then she gives me a smile and snuggles in against my arm, her other hand hugging over my chest.