Chapter 20 Willow
WILLOW
I stare after Victor as the door shuts behind him, my lips still tingling from the feeling of his mouth on mine. It was soft and far too brief, but somehow just what I needed.
My body hums with desire, and I have to swallow hard, fighting against the urge to go after him and beg for more.
Fuck, I crave him so much. So badly.
And with every hint I get that he craves me just as much, I become more and more desperate for him to let go and take what he wants.
But I know it’s a process. I know it’s not easy for him, and I won’t rush him.
Dragging in a deep breath, I shake my head to clear it, refocusing my mind a little. Since I’m already in the bathroom, I pee and wash my hands, checking my makeup to make sure that Vic’s light kiss didn’t smudge anything.
Once I’m sure there’s no way Olivia can tell what happened, I leave the peaceful stillness of the bathroom, stepping back out into the party.
It’s loud and grating, with people coming up to congratulate me every few minutes.
The food is probably good, since Olivia spared no expense, but it seems tasteless and dry in my mouth.
I force myself to swallow the salmon puffs and little canapés and whatever else, smiling perfunctorily and playing my role.
A large redheaded woman positively dripping with shiny jewelry comes up to me several minutes later, grinning.
“Congratulations,” she says, reaching out to take my hand. She covers it with hers, patting it hard enough that I can feel her rings knocking against my skin.
“Thank you,” I manage, trying to smile and look happy about any of this.
The woman winks. “Troy Copeland is quite the catch, wouldn’t you say?”
“He has a great reputation,” I answer, feeling my stomach go sour. I can’t say that Troy Copeland is a piece of shit who deserves to have his face beaten in, but I can’t quite bring myself to call him a catch, either—not even to keep up appearances.
The red-haired woman talks my ear off for a few minutes, then wanders away, only to be replaced by someone else.
Most of the women who greet me seem to want to talk about how handsome Troy is, but honestly, I don’t even see it anymore.
He’s got a classically attractive face, and if I didn’t know him at all, I might think he was good looking, but when I look at him now, all I see is a lecherous asshole.
But I play my role just the way my grandmother told me to, determined not to give Olivia any reason to lash out at the brothers. I let myself be paraded around with Troy, like some kind of prized horse or new car, and I pretend to be happy.
Every time he touches me, my skin crawls, and I have to fight the urge to jerk away and put as much distance as possible between us. I hate being near him, but I know I can’t show that, since we’re trying to sell this thing.
Eventually, I manage to get some space. Some of Troy’s golf buddies call him over, and he laughs.
“Time for some man talk,” he says, winking at me and then walking over to them with all of his usual swagger.
I take advantage of his absence to get some air, slipping up the stairs and down a short hallway to an outdoor terrace. I just need a break from the noise and the people, and my cheeks hurt from fake smiling so much.
It’s so much quieter outside, and the night air is cool against my skin. I breathe it in, trying to shake off some of the agitation from this evening.
After a few minutes, a quiet sound alerts me to someone else coming out onto the terrace, and I glance over in time to see Ransom step up next to me.
He keeps his distance, leaning on the railing a few feet away from me.
If anyone looked out and saw us, it would seem like we don’t know each other.
Like we’re just two people who needed to get some air away from the party.
That’s a good thing for appearances, but my heart aches, wanting to be close to him.
I stare out at the view over the city, the twinkling lights of buildings and the blur of headlights on the highway off in the distance. I swallow hard, wishing for so many things I can’t have.
“How are you holding up?”
Ransom’s voice startles me out of my thoughts, and I turn to glance at him.
“I—” My voice cracks, and I can feel the tears prickling behind my eyes, wanting to fall.
I have to swallow again, not wanting to break down here.
Not when I don’t have time to put myself back together before I have to go back into the party and pretend to be happy.
Not when I can’t just lose myself in Ransom’s arms.
So I drag in a deep breath and try again. “I’m okay. I just… hate this.”
He glances over at me, and I can see the pain and longing in his eyes. It mirrors the feelings in my heart, and I want to reach for him so badly.
I curl my fingers around the cold metal of the wrought iron rail instead.
“Hey. Look behind you,” Ransom murmurs.
I frown, but do as he says, glancing behind me.
There’s a small door a couple yards to the side of the arched doorway that leads back inside.
It looks utilitarian rather than fancy like so many other parts of this building, so I’m guessing it leads to some sort of equipment room.
Judging from the soft hum I can hear coming from behind the door, it might be where an AC unit and fan are kept.
“What about it?” I ask.
“Go inside,” he tells me. “It’s unlocked. I already checked.”
I furrow my brow, confused, but I trust Ransom completely, so I do it. The door opens at my touch, and I slip inside, blinking in the darkness.
It’s loud in here, the sound of the fan’s constant churning drowning out the pounding of my heart. A moment later, Ransom follows me in, and he closes the door behind him.
He wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me against his body. His hands roam, up and down my front and then over the curves of my hips, smoothing over the fabric of my dress. I can feel the firm warmth of his body pressed against me, and I relax into it, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply.
The smell of machine oil and grease fills my nose, but Ransom’s scent is there too, soothing and familiar.
He leans in, and I can feel his mouth at my ear. When he speaks, his breath tickles against my skin, making goosebumps spread.
“Remember how I sent you to your dress fitting with my cum inside you?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Well, I want to send you back to that asshole fiancé of yours with my cum dripping from your pussy. Malice, Vic, and I have watched you with him every second of tonight, and even though you’re doing an amazing job of pretending, I can see the sadness in your eyes.
And I hate it, pretty girl. I hate it so fucking much.
I want to wipe it away, just for a minute. Will you let me?”
My blood heats, and I moan softly, grinding my ass against his growing hard-on. I know it’s probably a bad idea, but tears sting my eyes as the weight of this evening bears down on me, and all I want right now is what Ransom is offering.
A reminder of who I truly belong to.
A reminder that there are good things in the world, not just lies and manipulation and cruelty.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Fuck, I wish we didn’t have to hide. I wish I could just be yours. All of yours.”
“You are ours.” He presses a kiss to my temple, his large hands gathering the skirt of my dress as he pulls it up to my waist. “You always will be, even if this is all we can have right now, these little stolen moments. You’re written in our bones, on our souls, and nothing can change that.”
The tears that I’ve been holding back slip down my cheeks, two small droplets trailing down toward my chin, and I lean back against him, feeling his warmth and solidness as I close my eyes.
“Fuck me,” I beg softly. “Troy’s ring might be on my finger, but I want your cock inside me.”
He shudders, his arms tightening around me as he hitches me close against his body. His lips find the side of my neck, pressing warm kisses there, and then he slowly loosens his hold on me.
“Bend over,” Ransom rasps. “Keep your skirt hiked up.”
I swallow hard and do what he says, bending at the waist as I hold the fabric of my dress up and out of the way. His fingertips skate lightly over my skin, then hook the waistband of my panties, dragging them down to my ankles.
I moan softly. Even in this dimly lit little room, I feel like Ransom can see everything, and my cheeks flush, but I don’t want to hide. Not from him.
“There you are, angel,” he murmurs, his tone almost reverent as he slides a finger along my slit. “Fucking beautiful.”
“Ransom,” I whisper, blinking back another tear before it can fall. Even now, I’m aware of the fact that I can’t afford to mess up my makeup, and I hate that I have to worry about it. That I have to think about anything except how much I need what’s about to happen. “I can’t wait. Please. I—”
“You don’t need to beg, pretty girl. Not this time. I couldn’t deny you even if I wanted to. Instead, I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, okay?”
There’s so much promise in his tone that it makes my heart stutter in my chest. I nod, my body tightening in anticipation, and over the sound of the fan running, I can hear Ransom’s belt jingle as he undoes his pants and draws his cock out.
Just like he promised, Ransom doesn’t make me beg or wait.
He rubs the head of his cock against my slick entrance for a second, gathering my arousal, and then he’s pushing his way in.
I whimper softly as my body stretches to take him.
I can feel every ridge in his cock, every single bump of his piercings, as he fills me up like he’s coming home.
My mouth falls open on a quiet noise, my legs shaking a little as his hips press flush against my ass, his shaft buried to the hilt inside me.
“You good?” he asks, adjusting his grip on my hips.