Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
SOPHIE
W ithout so much as a sound, I lay Julian down inside his crib as gently as I can. He stays asleep. Even though he’ll most likely awaken again an hour from now before he settles down for the night, I still crave a moment of downtime.
Like he’s done every night for a few weeks now, Will helped me put the girls to bed. But Gwen and Heather were particularly wired tonight, so it took a bit more coaxing than usual to get them down.
When I waltz back into my living room, Will is already settled into the sectional couch with half of my chenille blanket covering his legs. The scent of licorice tea hits my nose before I spot my mug, and my heart melts.
I could get used to this evening routine.
Shit, I think I have gotten used to this routine already.
In a matter of weeks, Will has grown tendrils that have woven their way into every crevice of my life. We haven’t even defined what the hell we are. Because we’re definitely more than friends. Friends don’t make out on the couch and slap each other’s asses in passing. Friends don’t feel the pooling desire I feel right now as I settle myself as close to him as I possibly can without sitting right on top of him.
It’s all been so organic. So natural. Like he’s always been a part of our lives. In a way, he has. The past year has only been an interlude. And now, everything has fallen back into place.
Everything is right again.
Will wraps his arm around my back and squeezes me tightly against him. The warmth emanating from his body is a refuge from the coolness hanging in the air. The evenings are starting to get below freezing now, and even though the house has heating, there’s still a nip of cold that won’t leave until spring.
Despite the comfort he brings me right now, a shred of doubt overshadows his warmth, bringing a thin coil of ice to my chest. Earlier this afternoon, I couldn’t help but notice the split second that Will’s body lit up with panic when his phone rang.
But it all went away so fast. Then I had to go feed Julian, and by the time I was done, there wasn’t a trace of panic or worry left in his gaze. I didn’t dare ask him whose name had shown up on his phone. Like I said, I don’t know what we are. The last thing I want to do is start acting overbearing or nosy when we haven’t even defined our relationship yet.
Will’s lips touch my forehead. “How are you feeling tonight?” he whispers against my ear. His hot breath lights up my senses. Minutes before, I was exhausted, but now, feeling him so close to my sensitive spots is enough to get me wired.
“Like I want to kiss you.” I push the phone call incident to the back of my mind. He’s here, now. That’s what matters, right?
Plus, I can’t get my mind and body to think of anything except his intoxicating presence.
Will’s dark eyes peer down at me with tenderness. “Are you sure? You seem … tense.”
Huh. I take a moment to survey my own body and find out he’s right. I’m holding a bunch of tension in my shoulders and jaw.
I lean forward to grab my mug of tea and take a sip. I’ve got a few suspects for why I’m feeling this way. “I do want to kiss you.” But I know I’m going to get worked up. Will’s mouth does exactly what I crave for it to do. And his hands know exactly where to go on my body, cupping and stroking and pinching in all the right places. “But …” I trail off. How do I begin to explain?
I want to take things further. No—I crave it. Need it. The accumulation of gentle touches over the last few weeks has me on the edge of crumbling apart. Will doesn’t know that I’ve ended every evening relieving this pressure alone under my duvet, secretly wishing it was his hand touching me instead of my own. He doesn’t know I’ve been silently moaning his name into my pillow while he sleeps on the couch.
But it’s not that simple. First off, Julian is in the middle of a sleep regression. Just perfect timing. He’s been waking up every thirty minutes these past few weeks, usually until it’s at least midnight. And by the time Julian has been asleep long enough for me to be emotionally and physically ready to switch gears, I’m ready to collapse from exhaustion.
Second, it has been over ten years since I’ve been with someone other than Matt. Back then, I was in my prime. I could practically get any man I wanted. I was confident in what I wanted, and I went for it.
But now, imagining Will seeing all of me—absolutely all of me—fills me with dread.
Although I have to admit, the idea of seeing all of him is almost delicious enough to completely wave my worries away.
Will doesn’t wait for me to finish my sentence. Instead, he gestures for me to rotate. I obey, leaving my back facing him.
“Drop your robe from your shoulders,” he whispers. His light stubble tickles my neck as he plants a few soft kisses there.
“Will,” I begin, my voice already filled with objections. I can’t do this again. It’s torture. Sweet, delicious torture.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he interrupts. His hands settle on the top of my shoulders, which are still covered by my fluffy robe. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. But let me ease some of that tension.” His fingers slowly begin to massage the tight muscles where my shoulders and neck meet; an involuntary moan escapes my lips at the sudden relief it brings me.
I close my eyes and revel in the sensation. “May I?” Will’s hands give the collar of my robe a light tug. I nod quickly without opening my eyes or my lips, and Will doesn’t waste a moment. Slowly, his hands move down toward my collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth against my skin. He grabs the sides of my robe and begins to pull it down from my shoulders. The chill hits my bare skin now that my shoulders and upper back are exposed, but Will’s hands return to touch me again, making it all worth it.
His fingers expertly knead at every spot holding tension. My head falls forward, almost involuntarily. Making the most of my motion, Will gently pushes my hair away to the front.
“How are you so good at this?” I ask, my voice slightly hoarse. Every contact of his fingers against my skin radiates sparks throughout the rest of me.
“For one,” he begins, “you desperately need it. So, I wouldn’t need to be particularly good for you to get something out of this.” His soft chuckle reverberates through me. “And two, I’ve spent the past few weeks studying.”
“Studying what?”
“Studying you.” I shiver when he presses his lips in a soft kiss at the nape of my neck. “What you like. What your body responds to. What you need.”
Fuck, this man.
“You pour so much of yourself into your family. Into your work. But at the end of the day …” He leans forward again, his lips against my ear. “Who takes care of you?”
“Hmm.” I’m starting to melt against his chest, and the heat that’s pooling between my thighs is almost unbearable. I’m about to burst into flames.
“That’s all I want, Sophie. I want to be the one who takes care of you. Who gives you what you need. And I don’t want you to feel pressured, not even for one second, to have to somehow give back. Because just being here …” He strokes the top of my shoulders in a feather-light touch. “Getting to touch you like this … You’re giving me more than I ever dared hope for.”
God, I want to turn around and kiss him, already. I want his hands to dare and explore every single part of me. But when I open my eyes, I see the phone in my peripheral vision that’s lying on the table, which shows me it’s 8:30 p.m. Anytime now, Julian will start crying for his evening snack.
Will’s hands stop moving. “You’re tensing back up. Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” I take a deep breath and crane my neck to look at him. God, he’s beautiful. “You’re saying and doing everything right. I just can’t help being on edge because I know this moment is about to end.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, beginning to deftly massage my skin again. “It’s happening now. Let yourself enjoy it. You’ve earned this.”
I close my eyes again and do my best to relax. But despite Will’s perfect touch on my skin, I’m nearly holding my breath five minutes later.
This is unusual. Julian should have woken up by now. What if something’s wrong?
“Sophie,” Will whispers again. “Do you want me to stop?”
No. I don’t want him to stop. But now that the thought of something happening to Julian has crossed my mind, I have to go check on him. “I’ll be right back.” I stand without even glancing back at him. My focus is singular as I head toward Julian’s room.
I slow down as I approach his room. Gently easing the door open, I peek inside, blinking a few times to adjust to the darkness. Julian is right there, fast asleep on his back, his mouth slightly open. The reassuring sound of his slow, deep breathing fills the room.
Relief floods through me. My baby is safe. For the first time since he’s been born, it seems like he isn’t on the verge of waking up.
Feeling a bit shell-shocked, I return to the living room. As I enter, I lean against the door frame, my eyes unfocused. There’s so much happening in my head that I can’t make sense of any of it.
The nearly uncontrollable desire that pulls me towards Will. The shame of revealing my new body. The confusion and edginess for Julian, thinking he may wake up any time now, but hoping he won’t.
“Sophie?” In just a few strides, Will is in front of me, his hand cupping the side of my face. He lifts my chin so that I’m looking into his eyes, concern darkening his angular features. “I’m here. What do you need?”
Something in me snaps. My hands race up to his chest and I grab hold of his shirt as if I’m holding on for dear life.
Fuck the fear. I’ve had enough.
“I need you,” I rasp, seeing his pupils darken at the sound of my words. But I don’t wait for him to catch on. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and urgently pull his lips down to mine.
I pull down so fast to bring our mouths together that our teeth collide; Will’s body immediately responds by pressing me into the doorframe, and I feel myself melt against the heaviness of him. I snake my fingers into his hair and relish the sensation of his hand pulling down the fabric of my robe at my shoulder.
I gasp in need of breath, and we both come together again, needy, hungry. I sigh against his mouth when he slips a hand underneath my robe and lifts one thigh up against him, squeezing the soft flesh underneath.
“Fuck, you’re so soft.” Will groans as he pulls away from my mouth; a whining sound escapes my throat in complaint but turns into breathy sighs when he starts peppering kisses across my collarbone and up my neck. I close my eyes and lift my head, which is spinning like an out-of-control Ferris wheel, to give him access to my most sensitive spots. I lower one hand from his hair and slip underneath his shirt to feel the smooth, taut muscle of his back.
He nips at me gently with his teeth and my breath catches. “Will,” I moan almost involuntarily. I need more of him, now. “Touch me, Will.”
A soft groan escapes his throat in response, and he makes his way down from my neck in a trail of kisses and soft nips; his fingers on my thigh travel higher to grab a solid handful of my ass, and the one knee holding me up weakens.
With his free hand, he splits the fabric of my robe away from my chest, leaving my breasts bare. His fingertips graze over the soft skin there, teasing me, until his thumb strokes my nipple. I shudder.
Never in all my life do I remember needing someone so much, and feeling this wanted in return.
It’s my turn to travel down below Will’s belt and grab hold of his firm ass; he rolls his hips firmly into me in response with a groan. “You’ll be the death of me.” He manages to say against my collarbone in a raspy voice, right before his mouth moves to my nipple.
A few flicks of his tongue and I’m putty in his arms. I can’t hold myself up anymore, and despite Will pinning me against the doorframe, I know he won’t be able to hold me for long. Will is muscular, but I’m tall and strong, too.
“Bring me to my bed,” I whisper against his forehead.
Will’s mouth leaves my breast to look up at me. I didn’t know it was possible, but his almost-black eyes are now even darker, with his pupils blown up like saucers. Seeing him look up at me like this threatens to unravel me. “Are you sure?”
I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. “Yes, please, Will.”
His body shudders at my words, and he obeys, lifting my other thigh up; I wrap my legs and arms around him as our mouths collide once more. Somehow, Will carries me into my bedroom as our tongues explore each other. He’s even stronger than I gave him credit for.
Even though our movements are hungry, frenzied, Will is gentle with me when he settles me down against my mattress. Our mouths come apart, and he simply looks at me for a moment while his hand sweeps a stray strand of golden hair away from my face. The gesture is so tender that tears well up in my eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, taking his time to admire me. “Words can’t even explain, Sophie. Can I show you how beautiful I think you are?”
He lifts his upper body just enough to reach the belt of my robe, and I freeze. The light at my end table is on, and he’s going to see me. He’s going to feel me.
I asked for this; I want this. Yet I’m terrified.
“What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I immediately breathe out. “Please don’t stop. But …” My eyes lower in embarrassment. “I’m not …” Is he still going to think I’m this beautiful when he sees all of me? “I’ve had three kids, Will, and I?—”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” He gives me his corner smile and strokes my cheek. “What if I told you that I touch myself in your shower every night I’m here when you’ve gone to sleep, trying to imagine just how good it will feel to touch all of you? How beautiful you must be everywhere?” His words send shockwaves to my core. “If you’re not ready, I won’t press you further. But trust me when I say, there is nothing below this fabric that won’t blow my mind.”
For a moment, I’m breathless. But he pulls a gasp out of me when he kisses the valley between my breasts. I sigh at the softness of his lips. “Let me show you, Sophie. Please.”
I look down at him, feeling my entire body humming. I swallow and nod.
“I need to hear the words, Sophie.” His voice is unsteady.
“Yes. Show me.”
I hold my breath as his hands untie the belt of my robe, then slowly part the fabric to reveal what’s underneath. The cool air of the room hits my belly, forcing a sharp inhale out of me.
Underneath the robe, I’m wearing nothing but my silky, seamless underwear. Will lifts himself up to take a good look at me. I clench my jaw in anticipation. His mouth is agape, and one hand strokes over the angry red marks that nearly cover my belly in its entirety. I shudder at his gentle touch.
“Just beautiful,” Will whispers, right before bringing his lips down to my stomach. One by one, he kisses my stretch marks, and I close my eyes to lean my head back; it’s too much. I’m overcome by a tidal wave, and as Will worships my body, a tear escapes my eye.
Matt never touched my stretch marks. He never made any comments about them, either, but he purposefully avoided them like the plague. And for the last several years, I was certain I would never feel this beautiful again.
This loved.
“You’re a force of nature,” Will groans, his face pressed against the soft, scarred skin. He’s said this so many times that I’m beginning to believe it. I weave my hands into his hair and open my eyes again. “These scars are a reminder of that. Don’t ever forget it.” His eyes trail up to mine. “Thank you for allowing me the privilege of seeing you.”
The pressure within me is too much. I need him to touch more of me. “You haven’t seen all of me.”
He emits a soft groan, then brushes his hand at the edge of the fabric below my waist. A thousand prickles traverse my body. “I know.” My breath hitches as he slips his fingers underneath the waistband.
As much as I want him to continue, I need to fix this inequality between us. I grab his wrist to stop his motion, my gesture urgent. “Wait. I get to see you, too.”
His lips twist into his usual teasing smile. “Only if you ask nicely.”
I groan. “Please, Will.” My fingers trail to the hem of his shirt. “Let me take this off.” He obliges, and I frantically pull the shirt away from his chest, revealing the smooth muscle underneath.
It’s not my first time seeing Will without a shirt. Far from it. So I knew what to expect. But combined with everything else I’m feeling in this moment, seeing him like this is electrifying.
He’s a God damn piece of art.
“Now, may I touch you?” His eyes are nearly begging.
A fragment of a memory flashes through my mind. As much as my body is screaming for me to say yes, I can’t help what I say next.
“Not yet.” I struggle to keep my breathing steady, but I shoot him a coy smile regardless. “On your knees.”
He made me beg for his help once. Now it’s time for payback.
But the urgency of the need burning deep within me almost makes it feel like payback on myself.
Will’s eyelids get heavy, his gaze focused on the only piece of fabric separating him from seeing all of me. “Yes, ma’am.” He kneels at the foot of the bed, keeping both hands just inches away from my skin.
“Beg for it,” I say.
“Please, Sophie.” His gravelly voice echoes through all my limbs.
“Please, what?”
“Please let me touch you. Let me make you feel good.”
I nearly give in at his words. Instead, I wait, locking eyes with his, enjoying the torturous tension, until I simply can’t bear him not touching me for a second longer.
“Yes.”
A groan escapes him; rough hands push against my thighs, pressing me back against the mattress. I can’t help taking advantage of our closeness to run my hands all over the hot, smooth skin of his back, just before his hand slips underneath the fabric once more. I draw in a sharp breath.
At first, his movements are slow, teasing. He circles around my centre, at the crease of my thighs—everywhere except where I’m craving his touch. I moan in complaint and dig my nails into the side of his stomach. “You’re torturing me,” I rasp.
This is my karma.
A throaty laugh escapes his lips. “I have waited ten years for this very moment. So forgive me if I want to take my time.” He cups his hand around me, all but really touching me. I gasp at the warmth of it. “Do you have any idea of all the things I’ve done to you in my mind? Everything I’ve imagined this would be?” He sighs, and I feel his hands shake. “None of it compared to this. Not even close.” When his thumb strokes my most sensitive spot, I gasp again.
“God, the sounds you’re making.” As his thumb circles and strokes, he slips one finger inside me. My whole body jerks. “And you’re so wet. Fuck, Sophie …” His mouth finds mine again, and we melt together; I moan against him as his fingers and thumb keep stroking, thrusting, circling me in all the ways I need.
Pressure mounts within me, and not just from the intoxicating pleasure Will is giving me, but from everything in this moment: his closeness, his warmth, the way he reveres me with his entire being. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right, and?—
“Will,” I cry out frantically. “Oh, God, Will, I’m?—”
The pressure explodes from within, and wave after wave of pleasure courses through me; it ripples from the tip of my toes to the roots of my hair, settling deep in my very bones. Will doesn’t let up, his hands softly stroking me through every wave of aftershock. My vision goes black for a moment, and if I wasn’t lying in bed, I’d collapse underneath him like a house of cards.
Finally, Will’s movements slow; his hand moves away from my centre and gathers the fabric of my underwear to pull it down my now putty-like legs. As he pulls it down, he trails his lips along my thighs, once again placing particular attention on the stretch marks I have there.
Will straightens and looks at me. Reverence hits his eyes. I no longer feel any shame over my body; a new sense of peace has settled all over me, nestling deep within my soul. “You’re a fucking goddess, Sophie. I can’t get enough of looking at you like this.”
Despite my release, the pressure starts mounting again. This wasn’t enough. I need more. From him. “Will,” I gasp, sitting up to clasp his belt. “I need you, now. I want you inside me.”