Chapter 19 Willow #2
I hum, thinking it over. “I’m not really sure. For so long, my plan was just to go to school and get a degree and try to make something of myself. But then I met Olivia, and everything changed.” I snort softly. “Well, I guess meeting you three changed things first.”
“In a much better way, I hope.”
“Definitely. Well, at first, I was convinced you three were going to ruin my life. Or kill me. But instead, it turned into something amazing. I guess my point was that ever since Olivia came along, I haven’t really had a chance to think about the next thing.
I was dealing with her offering me money and a place in the family.
Then she wanted me to get married. Then Misty died.
Then Olivia showed her true colors, and everything after that has just been us running from one thing to the next.
This feels like the first chance we’ve had to catch our breaths in a while. ”
“Mm,” Ransom agrees. “It’s kind of weird, honestly. But after being chased down and shot at, I’ll take a break any way I can get one.”
“Hell, yes,” I murmur. “What about you? Have you and your brothers talked about what you might want to do once this is all said and done? Without Olivia making your lives difficult as X, you’ll have a lot more freedom.”
“We’re all definitely looking forward to not having to do odd jobs for her anymore, that’s for sure.
Other than that, I don’t know if we have a plan yet.
I’m sure Vic has the beginnings of one, at least, because that’s how he is, but Malice and I are more in the moment.
Just trying to get Olivia off our backs completely before we start planning anything else. ”
“That makes sense,” I whisper, nodding. “I think it would be good if you guys had the chance to mess with cars again. I don’t know if that was something you started just because you needed the money at the time, but I know you in particular miss it.”
There’s a warm huff of laughter, and Ransom’s breath ghosts over my skin. His hands move over my sides, making the water ripple around us.
“You know me so well,” he murmurs, and I can hear warmth in his tone.
I shrug. “I just remember that it was like your happy place. Where you went when you needed a break. You’d be in the garage messing with your bike or with a car, and you always seemed to enjoy it. I want you to have that again.”
“One day,” he promises. “And I’ll teach you all about it too if you want. You’ll be able to rebuild an engine in no time.”
A little laugh bursts out of me. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, before we ran away to Mexico, you would’ve said you weren’t sure you could ride a motorcycle, right? But you did great.”
He does have a point there. I can remember the wind in my hair and the way Ransom rewarded me for learning to ride on my own.
“It was more fun than I thought it would be,” I admit. “And less scary.”
“See? I know what I’m talking about. When we have room, we’ll get bikes. I’ll pick out a really nice one for you and teach you more about riding.”
I can tell he’s excited about that prospect from the way his tone has picked up. He’s also touching me more than he was before. His hands glide over my skin, wet and leaving a trail of heat as they go.
His thumb skates over the inside of my elbow, and I shiver a little at the sensation. Somehow over the course of the conversation, he went from barely touching me to letting his hands roam over me in slow, easy patterns. It’s old habit, his natural instinct when he’s around me.
At first, I didn’t really notice it all that much, caught up in the conversation, but now it’s like it’s all I can focus on, and I swallow hard as his touch starts to affect me, turning me on.
There’s still that haze of unease that settles over me, but I don’t give it any oxygen, focusing instead on how good his fingers and palms feel on my skin. His touch has always comforted me, even when I didn’t want it to, and now it’s making me feel wet between my legs in a way that I’ve missed.
“Ransom,” I whisper, his name spilling from my lips.
“Hm?” He sounds languid and content, but then seems to notice what he’s doing. “Oh, shit. Sorry, angel. It’s just habit. I’ll—”
He starts to move his hand away from me, but I reach up and stop him before he can.
I fit my hand over his, and it feels right.
At first, I just leave my hand there, letting it press over his, feeling his touch against my skin.
Then I slowly and tentatively start moving his hand downward a bit.
I guide it in a caress down my arm and then back up, over my shoulder.
I let his fingers feather over my neck and then move them down to my chest.
My tongue darts out, licking my lips, and I pull his hand downward even more, letting it rest against my breast for a second.
“Willow…” Ransom breathes. “You don’t—”
“Shhh,” I murmur back.
He falls silent, but I can hear the way his breaths are coming faster now, and I can feel the way his heart is racing a little, where his chest is still pressed against my back. His cock twitches, and I’m aware of it against my back, thick and hot.
I guide him to cup one breast and then the other, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over my nipple. The roughness against that sensitive, damp skin makes my breath catch, and a moan pours out of me before I can help it.
I push his hand harder over my chest, arching as my breast presses into the fullness of his hand.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my nipples hardening even more.
Ransom seems content to let me direct this, not pushing for more or letting his hand go anywhere I don’t lead it. He groans when I urge his hand down lower, sliding it over the planes of my stomach and then to my thighs.
His cock is rock hard against the small of my back, and I feel it when his hips twitch upward. He doesn’t move more than that, and I let out a breath, closing my eyes, focusing on how his hand feels on me.
I let his fingers drag over the scarring on my thighs, not even a little self-conscious about what it must feel like to him.
We’re past that in every way we can be, and I know my scars don’t bother any of my men.
They’ve seen all of me, everything I have and everything I am, and they keep choosing me. They keep wanting me.
“Goddamn,” Ransom hisses, and his fingers tighten slightly on my thigh before relaxing. “You have no idea how good you feel, pretty girl. You’re so—”
He cuts himself off with a groan, and I swear I can feel that noise against my back and between my legs.
My pussy is throbbing now, desperate for attention.
It’s been a while since I felt this kind of need, this kind of desire.
Those first couple of days after being rescued from Troy’s cabin, I wasn’t sure if I ever would again.
But my body hums with a current of desire, and I slide Ransom’s hand down between my legs, letting it press against the heat of my crotch.
He groans again, cursing under his breath, and this time, my hips push up, grinding against his hand.
The friction feels good, but it’s not quite enough. Carefully, I press one of his fingers into me, and my head falls back against Ransom’s shoulder when it breaches my entrance. It feels so familiar, so right, and I have to remember how to breathe.
“You’re so fucking wet,” Ransom pants. “You feel so fucking good. I wanna make you feel good, angel.”
“You always do,” I gasp back.
I work my hips, grinding against his hand for a bit before drawing those fingers up to circle around my clit. I press his hand there, silently urging him to keep going, and then work my own fingers into my soaking wet pussy.
“Ah!” My breathy cry echoes around us in the bathroom, and water splashes a bit as I thrust my hips up. It’s so good and not enough all at the same time.
“There you go,” Ransom murmurs. He buries his face against my neck, breathing hard against my skin. “Take what you need. Did you miss this? Does it feel good?”
I nod, breathless. My fingers work deeper into my pussy, and I add another one, trying to fill myself up to the brim. Ransom’s fingers keep drawing circles around my clit, and I gasp in pleasure as it rocks through me.
Slowly, I slide my fingers out of myself and then replace them with Ransom’s. His hands are bigger, rougher than mine, and two of his fingers fill me up enough that I’m writhing and bucking in place against him.
My breath comes in short pants, and I can feel the orgasm growing. It’s slower than usual, as if it’s had to be coaxed out of hiding, but that heat is there, building in my gut and spreading out through me.
Powerful. Undeniable. Inevitable.
I moan, gasping Ransom’s name, grinding against our hands as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them against my g-spot.
“You wanna come?” he whispers. “Then come. You can do it. You’re so close. I can feel it. You’re safe, pretty girl. I’ve got you. You can let go.”
When the orgasm hits me, I bite down on my lip hard, shaking and arching through it. Ransom lets me keep his hand where it is, and his fingers stroke against my inner walls as they ripple and spasm around him.
A low chant of, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” spills from his mouth, and I can feel his cock throbbing against the small of my back.
Then there’s a rush of wetness and heat against my back as his cum jets out beneath the water, his cock pulsing over and over with each spurt. The feel of him coming, even if it’s not inside me, is enough to draw out my climax, making me moan roughly as the rush of pleasure crests again.
We’re both breathless in the aftermath, leaning against each other while our hearts thud in unison.
After a drawn out moment, Ransom presses a kiss to my bare shoulder.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
My brows furrow as I blink. “For what?”
“For coming like that. This was supposed to be about you getting what you needed. I wasn’t trying to make it about me or me getting off.”
I smile, touched by the way he always finds a way to put me first, to take care of me in big and small ways.
“Don’t be sorry,” I tell him quietly, wrapping my hand around his. His fingers are still buried inside me, like he’s not ready to lose that connection yet. “I liked it. I like that you could get off just from feeling me come. It makes me feel… I don’t know. Good. Seen.”
I can feel him smile against my skin, and when I tip my head back to meet his lips in a kiss, he meets me halfway.
For once, there’s no rush of discomfort, just the warm haze of the afterglow, and I savor this moment. It’s like being wrapped up in a cocoon of warmth and safety, and it feels like some of the jagged shards in my heart fall away.