11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Willow
I can’t believe Gunnar just thought it was okay to ship me up here and take my chance to work away from me.
Who the fuck does he think he is?
I walk into the kitchen to make something to eat, but I’m too pissed at him. He acted just like Jake tonight, taking my choices about my work away from me!
Ugh, I need to sit down. I need to relax so I plop down on the couch, and turn on the tv, but my mind won’t stop racing.
Gunnar isn’t like Jake. Waitressing isn’t my career and this isn’t the same. He was being a good boss and keeping me away from a potentially dangerous situation. Fuck him for being right.
Those assholes down there are just like Jake, that’s for sure. Thinking they can just touch my body however they want, and make lewd jokes that aren’t appropriate for them to make. Especially considering most of them have wedding rings on. Those poor women . At least Jake was decent enough to not subject a woman to his bullshit full time.
I wish I had someone like Gunnar looking out for me in Nashville.
Damn it! That thought has me pacing back into the kitchen.
I want so badly to be mad at him, but I’m just not. I’m really mad at myself for letting it happen again. I had the choice to shut them down, I know Gunnar would have supported everything I wanted to say.
Call me crazy, but the protectiveness from Gunnar has me all worked up. I’m plenty pissed he sent me home, but damn if my panties aren’t soaked from him being all alpha tonight.
The way he just came in and took charge, fuck that was hot. If only he pushed me up against his office door and … No. I can’t go there. He pushed me out the door and up the stairs.
But now the thought of him pushing me up against the door is doing something to me.
Knowing that he’ll be at work for a few more hours, and that he won’t actually touch me the way I want him to, I pull out my vibrator from my side drawer in my room. The best I’m going to get tonight.
I peel off my skin tight jeans and lay back on the pillows of my bed. I conjure thoughts of Gunnar gripping his cock in the shower, moaning through his own release while staring right at me .
I’m right at the peak before my own pleasure when I hear a soft knock on my door.
“Willow,” my name sounds strangled on his lips.
“Oh God,” I cry out. I’m not sure if I cry out in shock or pleasure at my name from Gunnar’s deep voice.
A moment of hesitation. “What are you thinking about, darling?”
Fuck. Two can play his little game.
“You getting yourself off in the shower.”
My bedroom door is ripped open, his wild eyes find mine. His eyes rake down my body to where I’m holding my vibrator, hips bucking off the bed, an orgasm is within my reach.
“You thinking about how it would feel to have my cock in you right now?” A smirk on his lips.
“Yes,” I squeak out.
That asshole sits in the chair in the corner of my room, watching me.
I pause for a second. “Do you plan on watching?”
“Sure do.” He crosses his ankle over his knee and leans forward, watching me intently.
“Well, then at least help me get there.” I half beg, still trying to sound like I’m in control.
“Tell me what you need.” He leans back in his chair. “You need me to touch you?”
Hope springs in my chest. “Yes. Please touch me.”
“If I were to touch you, I’d start by taking each of your hard nipples in my mouth, sucking and nipping until you’re begging me for more. ”
He stands and walks closer to my bed, grazing his palm over the peaks of my nipples through my barely there shirt.
Moans escape me, and I close my eyes to envision what that might look like, feel like.
“Open your eyes, darling. I’m not done.” He smirks down at me. “When you were begging me for more, I’d crawl down that beautiful body of yours, reach both my hands under that perfect little ass and haul you to my mouth. First I’d lick every bit of you, taste you, until you were coating my lips. Then I’d suck right here, and lick away the pain.” He places his fingertip to my clit and applies the slightest bit of pressure. “Then I’d add these two fingers, to replace that plastic excuse you have. I’d rub inside you until I found the spot that drives you over the edge.”
“Oh God. Please. Please do it,” I beg, writhing on the bed.
He places a knee on my bed and swings his body over mine, hovering over me. He takes my vibrator from my hands, moving it in and out, and hitting my clit with his palm. His mouth covers mine and takes over.
I reach behind him, clawing at his broad back, trying to get any more friction he’s willing to give.
“Come on, darling. Give me what I want from you,” he drawls into my ear.
At his urging, my orgasm hits, and I ride it out against his hard body covering mine .
Once the aftershocks finish, Gunnar rolls onto his side and cradles my body against his. “I really just came up here to see if you were okay.”
I stare up at him, “I’d say I’m more than okay now.”
“I hate to say this, but I have to get back downstairs. Half that group is still here. I just wanted to apologize for being an asshole earlier. But Mack might kill me if I don’t leave right now.”
I don’t want him to leave, but I get why he has to. “Okay. Apology accepted. And I’m okay. Really. Go.”
Gunnar gets up, walking to the door. I throw on my underwear and I follow behind him. He stops and looks back at me before closing the door. “Want me to bring your dinner later?”
“Um, yes. Rule number one here, I’ll never say no to food.” I laugh.
“You got it.” He winks and leaves me warring with too many feelings on the couch. He acts like he doesn’t want to be with me, but then he goes and gets me off like that?
What I wouldn’t give for a drink right now.
I’m on my third episode of Gilmore Girls when Gunnar comes upstairs early. I pause the show and get off the couch to take some of the takeout boxes from his arms .
He looks exhausted, worn out from a bad night that started because I didn’t just stand up for myself. A pang of guilt shoots through me.
“Night didn’t get better?” I ask.
He places the rest of the boxes on the island and leans against the counter. He stretches his arms over his head, revealing a sliver of the washboard abs under the tee he wears for work.
I practically salivate at the thought of running my hands over those abs.
“You could say that. The other half of that group didn’t leave, and I had to cut them off, and then call Brad to get them out. They were pissed we kicked their buddy out, and pissed we cut them off. They were hellbent on causing trouble tonight. Brad didn’t help their anger either.” He scrubs his hands down his face.
I sidle up next to him and bump him with my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault they’re jerks.” He looks down at me. “I made your favorite, buffalo chicken salad and a side of sweet potato fries.” He reaches across the island, handing me two boxes. “Well. To be honest, Mack made it, not me.”
I brush my hand against his when I take the box, and he pulls his hand back as if I’d shocked him.
“Thanks.” I walk back to the couch. He follows.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, letting Gilmore Girls drone on in the background. I sense that he needs the quiet first. His eyes are stuck on the TV and since I know he doesn’t love Rory and Lorelei the way I do, he is thinking hard about something.
Gunnar breaks the silence first. “What happened to you in Nashville?”
I freeze at the question. It’s not exactly a secret, but it’s not public knowledge either and it’s damn embarrassing. I definitely don’t want to spill it all to Gunnar. He’ll probably think I’m a weak woman who can’t fight for what she deserves, and he’d be right.
“How about you tell me why I can’t drink, and then I’ll tell you the story of Nashville,” I counter.
I know there’s more to that rule than he lets on, especially after how he acted tonight with those guys. That anger is something I haven’t seen before from him.
“You can’t drink because I know firsthand what it does to you when you’re only drinking to keep the pain at bay. The pain comes back and with the added bonus of the regret for what you’ve done when drunk. The cycle just keeps on going and it only digs you deeper into the pain.”
“And how do you know that?” I whisper back.
He sighs, readying himself for the conversation.“When I got out of the military, I spent a lot of nights drinking to avoid dealing with what we saw on deployments, the friends we lost. But one of my best friends, I lost him one night on patrol. It was the four of us, my brother, Hernandez, Smith, me. A sniper took Hernandez out before we even knew there was danger in the small village.” A pained look passes his rugged features, softening his face. “Anyway, after that there was a lot of gun fire, and one of the villagers stepped on an IED right next to me. I was thrown and took a lot of shrapnel to the back. I got out shortly after that. It was the end of our last deployment. And I couldn’t bear to stay in without Hernandez.”
I reach out to place my hand on his. “And then you came home and drank yourself stupid to forget, like I was doing.”
He nods. “It took me about a year of fucking up my life, an arrest for assault that got dismissed in court, and a lot of disappointment from my parents. My Pops sat me down and told me how it was going to go, kind of like Lorelei does with you girls. But instead of listening, I grabbed my keys and drove. I ended up here when I ran out of gas, and saw this old place just sitting. Darlene from the diner told me about how the owner had passed recently and his wife hadn’t wanted to keep it going. I bought it the next day with no plan or place to live, but here we are. Once I bought this place, I never drank to forget again.”
I place my hand on his thigh. “Gunnar, I’m so sorry. You must think I’m such an entitled brat, crying over music.” Unshed tears well in my eyes thinking of his pain.
He pulls me into his lap, holding me close to his chest. “Of course I don’t think that. Pain calls to pain. I’d never judge what caused it. But if you’d like to share with me now, it might help to get whatever it is off your chest.”
“That’s what the scars on your back are? From the -”
“Yes.” He places me back on the couch, turns and lifts his shirt over his shoulders for me to see. His back is riddled with puckered skin.
“Oh, Gunnar.” I softly run my fingertips over the skin. I think back to all the times I’ve seen him without a shirt on. I was too busy ogling his muscles that I never paid attention to how badly the scars mar his skin.
He pulls his shirt back over his torso and turns to face me, leaning with one arm draped over the back of the couch.
“I guess it’s my turn now, huh?” I gulp. “My manager, Jake, was stealing money from me. He negotiated all my contracts with the venues I sang at, and I never questioned him. He was always a little sleazy, making sexual jokes, inappropriate touching. I chalked it up to it being the industry. But when I learned that others were making almost triple what I was at the same gigs, I started pushing. He got pissed, and started dangling bigger gigs in front of me. Like opening for Calvin Taylor. Something I thought was already in the works. Then he told me that I would need to sleep with him if I wanted this job. Obviously, I refused. But the damage was done. Everything clicked into place, it wasn’t normal industry standard, it was sexual harassment.” I shifted in my seat under Gunnar’s gaze.
“Is that all?” he asks when I don’t continue.
“No. There’s more. I started digging. I found more than a few other women who he had done this too as well. I told him that he’d go down for what he’s been doing and I wasn’t going to allow him to do this to any other women.” I sigh deeply.
“You’re a firecracker, so I can imagine the threat didn’t go over well.”
“Unfortunately for me, I ran out of money long before attitude, and since Jake has more connections in Nashville, I got nowhere with what little money I had in savings. He paid every single woman I had on my side to not say anything against him. No manager or agent would take me on after that. I lost my case without anyone else coming forward. He spun some story of a jilted lover trying to ruin his name. Said I was trying to get on Calvin’s tour to ruin his marriage, and since Calvin and his wife are America’s sweethearts, everyone believed him, and turned on me. Since then, I really have lost any and all respect for the people in the music industry. I love singing but now that it isn’t an option, I just -”
“Feel lost?” Gunnar offers.
“Yea. Lost is a good way to describe it.” I rest my head on his chest as he rubs my back.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, darling. What does Lorelei say about it all? She’s a wise woman. ”
I grimace, “I actually haven’t told anyone the whole story except for you. Addy knows some of it, but only that he was sleazy and stealing money. I haven’t told her about the court case, or my lack of funds.”
“Willow. You need to tell your family.” Damn, he used my real name, not darling.
“I know. I know. I promise I will. I’ll see if the girls want to grab dinner soon. Then maybe they can be there when I tell Mom. I’m just not ready yet.”
“You don’t have to be right now, but please think about it?”
I nod in agreement. I will think about it. But for some reason, he’s the only one who makes me feel safe enough to share this part of my life.
Maybe it’s the way he trusted me with his story, or the way we’ve slowly gotten to know each other, building trust with each other and not forcing the other to share anything they weren’t ready for. I know there’s no judgment in anything he says.
He continues to stroke my back and we fall back into silence watching Gilmore Girls on the couch together.
Soft snores come from the gentle giant under me, so I cover him up before shutting everything off and going to bed myself.
I am emotionally exhausted after bearing everything to him.