Against the Rules (Even The Score #4)

87. king

CHAPTER 87

KING

THE WEIRD BLOCK

My heart leaped to my throat at the sight of her, hurrying up to me with her hood obscuring her hair. I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear her sharp intake of breath when she saw me.

The stitches actually felt like stitches now—and not like I stapled my forehead for fun—but the improvement didn’t mean anything. I knew how I looked. I knew how Willow saw me. I drew in a deep breath, gearing up for the apology, when she yanked the door open and ushered me inside.

Lights flickered overhead and she pushed down her hood.

Willow.

Her glasses fogged up from the rain and she pulled them off, hurrying to wipe them with her shirt and those beautiful dark whiskey eyes were too big. Too wide. Too full of shock.

"You’re—you’re soaked," she whispered.

I didn’t know how to respond. Numb, I nodded.

"When did you—how did you?—?"

"My truck broke down last night," I explained. Each word was more of a mumble than a real thing because I was so fucking embarrassed and ashamed. "The address didn’t come up right for the Uber and there was an accident, traffic—I had him drop me off at West Briar."

"You walked from West Briar? "

It wasn’t a long walk but in the rain it was miserable. That didn’t matter. I had to see her. So I walked.

"Willow." I swallowed. "I’m?—"

"Stay here."

She rushed over to a laundry basket and returned with thick, purple towels. I didn’t know what to do with them. I took one look down at my jeans, denim skin by that point, and the hoodie that I could’ve wrung out. The towels were too nice. I held them out, six inches away, unsure of where to go from here.

"Take off your clothes."

I glanced down at her, silent.

"Take off your clothes," she repeated and motioned for them. "I’ll put them in the dryer."

How could I explain it?

I scared her and the terrified look on her face wormed its way into my brain, scraping out pieces of me until all that was left was that look, imprinted behind my eyelids.

"Willow, I’m so sorry?—"

"Okay," she said simply, trying to tug my hoodie up until I took over and pulled it over my head. Her fingers went to the button of my jeans and I took out my phone and wallet before shrugging them down. I peeled off my socks and my shirt until I was left in my boxers. I was quiet. I really couldn’t say anything.

She dumped my clothes in the dryer before coming back, towel in hand. With a slow breath, Willow traced her fingers a few inches below the stitches. A trail of warmth grew where she touched me. Gently, she dried off my hair.

"Willow, I’m sorry," I croaked.

"I know."

"I shouldn’t have hit him. I got his number from June, I told him I was sorry. I’ll tell him in class."

"No, you won’t."

I took the towel from her when she offered it and kept drying myself while she walked up the stairs. At the top, she motioned for me to follow.

Up to her room?

In nothing more than a pair of blue boxers, I gazed up at her, like a stunned animal, post-tranquilization. She slowly gestured, her voice soft. "Come upstairs, Tattoos."

My steps were clumsy as I stumbled after her.

Holy shit. Willow’s room.

It was painted in soft pinks and purples. There were tons of posters on the walls and pictures everywhere. Books and records lined her bookshelves and her three guitars—her prized possessions—were on stands in the corner, next to a desk with stacks of textbooks. And there was the bed, covered in about a million fluffy blankets.

While Willow closed the door, I drank everything in, turning around to see another new fact of Willow.

"The stitches are from the party?" she asked, handing me a new towel.

I nodded.

"They look horrible, King."

"This is better. I did the first ones myself, those popped, I had to go in?—"

"You stitched yourself up? "

"It’s been a long time since I’ve done it. I guess I forgot how."

Willow sat on her bed and rested her chin on her hands, clasped together, before she spoke again. "Can you leave the towels on the desk and come here?"

When I imagined coming over, I pictured apologizing in the garage, a tossup for what would happen next. I didn’t think she was going to be so gentle with me. I didn’t deserve it.

I took my place in front of her. "I panicked. I’m so sorry."

"I know," she said and patted the blankets.

I sat next to her, equally as clumsy as the rest of my movements. "My—uh—my dad?—"

"June told me everything."

"And you—you let me in?"

"King, I’m so sorry that happened to your mom, and I’m so sorry that happened to you."

"My family was protecting my dad and I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want to ruin everything."

Willow pushed up from the bed and swung her leg over to sit on my lap.

I stared at her, shocked.

"When you left, that scared me. I didn’t know if you were okay, if you were hurt, or worse."

"I didn’t know if you wanted to see me again," I admitted. "You had this look on your face, you were so scared. I lost my temper and I never, ever want you to see me like that."

"King, I was scared for you. And you were put in a corner. There’s a difference."

My hands gripped the blankets, it felt wrong to touch her, but she touched me, stroking the side of my face while I struggled with my words.

"I’m really sorry."

"I’m sorry about the party," she said. "It was the worst."

"It’s my fault."

"No, it’s mine. Elijah was building towards doing something crazy like a stupid, ticking time bomb, and I should’ve recognized the signs, but I didn’t."

Willow hugged me.

I couldn’t move. Not one inch. All while Willow pulled me closer. She was so warm and so soft. Smelled so good. That was all Willow.

The tension relaxed in my shoulders as I took up her space, finally touching her too. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, pressing my cheek against her skin, being as close as I could.

I closed my eyes. "I want you to know how sorry I am."

"I know, baby."

"You make me feel soft," I confessed. "I’ve never felt soft before."

"Do you like feeling soft?"

"Yeah. I do."

There wasn’t anything different about the blood in my body or my organs, nothing physical that changed, it was something deeper than that. I knew at that moment I would’ve done anything for her.

"I love you."

She kissed my hair again. "I love you too." The minutes passed and Willow hummed, her voice light. "How do the stitches feel?"

"Better. Not…great."

"No strenuous activity?"

"No heavy machinery for a while."

"Hey?"

I had to pull back to see what she wanted, and my blood heated when her eyes dropped to my lips. I didn’t hesitate. I cupped her face and kissed her, tilting her back to me, keeping her any way I could.

I had no idea the night would be anything like this.

Kissing her again, my lips traveled from the curve of her mouth to her jaw. "I love you."

Willow broke away from me and took off the hoodie— my hoodie.

Only a tank top underneath. I could clearly see her nipples through the fabric. No bra. I didn’t have enough time to drool before the tank top was gone.

"Oh, fuck," slipped out of me.

The only thing I had was the boxers, there was no hiding how hard she had me.

"I love you," she whispered, slipping off my lap to pull her pajama pants down. Those were going too? I fumbled with something to say while Willow stood naked in front of me.

Her fingers were quick and she hurried me along to take off my boxers until I shoved those away too.

Back on my lap, she licked her palm.

"I love you," I told her, my voice hoarse. "I love you so much—" Willow wrapped her hand around my dick and my words stuttered. " Fuc—fucking Christ ."

"I know how to make you feel better," she murmured.

She ran her hand down my shaft and fuck—I wasn’t ready for that. I gripped her hips, then her waist, her thighs, struggling to figure out where I could put my hands while she mentally and spiritually fucked me over.

"The—the—" I groaned. " Fuck, Willow."

My body throbbed for her, and I needed to kiss her again but when I tried to kiss her neck, she pushed me back.

She raised up on her knees. "I want you to feel amazing, baby."

"You always— fuck, " I grunted when she ran my cock along her slit. She was warm and wet, slick to the touch. I dug my fingers into her soft thighs. "You’re—I?—-"

"I want you, Tattoos."

My body went taut. Nothing could’ve gotten me harder.

But something was wrong.

Willow and I could have penetrative sex but that was a marathon, it took time to prepare before the big finish line. Jumping into it was something we’d never done before.

It was so hard to think about while she rocked against me.

"Willow—"

"You’re so thick ."

"We need to slow down," I said, like I wanted that.

"Do you want sex?"

Gazing up at her, I couldn’t lie. "Yes but?—"

"Do you want to fuck?"

"I don’t think you can?—"

"What do I feel like?"

My cock throbbed. "You feel like heaven."

"Do you want to fuck?"

"I want to fuck you so bad, my body’s aching for it." I dug my fingers in her skin. "I want to watch my cum drip out of you and then I want to cum in you again?—"

"I want to make you feel good," she whispered and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. "I want to see that look on your face when you’re cumming deep in me."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I know you want that too."

"Fuck, I do."

"If you don’t want sex right now, that’s okay?—"

"You know I want sex." I was so fucking hard, my balls hurt. "I want sex."

She rolled her hips, taking me another inch while I panted against her, happily drowning in the overwhelming sensation of her . Willow’s pussy enveloped me like a fucking hug after being away for years. Hell. I couldn’t think of anything else.

"You feel so fucking good," I groaned.

Willow’s thighs stiffened.

She rocked against me, but something was wrong.

We weren’t moving and there was this…tension. I felt her grip me before, but this was different, a kind of a weird block. I never felt it during any sex I ever had. It wasn’t a bad feeling for me, but my muscles recoiled as I realized what was happening.

"Willow—"

"No," she choked out.

"This isn’t working?—"

"No, no, no?—"

Her words were choppy and I could feel her body tighten as she tried to take me deeper, forcing my cock inside of her. I pulled her off of me, holding her tight. "Willow. Stop. "