23. Normal
Normal
Willa
T wo and half weeks later, I am finally heading back to my little cabin so I can report back to work. I have missed the ranch, my students, the normalcy of my life. Nash and I sit in the back of his SUV while Grant drives us. A two hour drive has me reflecting on the weeks as Nash attends to a work emergency. He has been putting out fires over the last week due to the time he took off to care for me. I fought him to work. To not tend to me every time I moved or wanted something, but he refused. Even now, he has his palm resting on my thigh, giving it a squeeze every so often. To the point I believe he does it more for his comfort than mine. Turning back to look at him, he gives me a wink that melts my heart in the middle of his tongue lashing to the poor soul on the other end of the line.
For two weeks, I lived in a fancy house, overlooking a lake as large as the ocean from where I stood. The house sat up on the hill a bit from the others, giving a perfect view from any mammoth-sized window on the back of the house, the back deck, or my favorite, his heated infinity pool. Nash has tended to my every want and need. No intimacy other than a few minor make-out sessions. Definitely not for the lack of trying on my part, but he denied me, saying my body was not ready. His concern was also for my mental state. Huh, my mental state. Not sure that has ever been classified as normal or intact in medical terms.
Again, my reaction to Brooks' attack left me numb and tearless. I refuse to shed tears over the attack, but no one else sees it that way. I even heard my pa talking to Nash a week ago on the back deck after dinner about my state of mind. I held my tongue because I was in no mood for another argument over my emotions. Bruises have healed, my face looks eighty percent better. Ninety-five percent better when I push through the pain to apply makeup. Which is exactly what I did today because I need to feel like a living human. The need to feel pretty. The need to not have Nash’s whiskey eyes look at me in pity anymore.
With all going on, Nash and I have tread around the issues we need to work through. He has continued to send me emails daily so I had more to read than just my “naughty” books as he calls them. I am now caught up to his last year in the army, bracing myself for the email coming. Which is why maybe I did not get one for the past two days. I know this is hard for him, but damn, I need him to let me in.
Blake secretly told me he was attending a veterans PTSD program before the accident. That he has kept in touch with the group virtually since we have been at Nash’s house. That information alone made my tears fall. Nash is fighting his demons not just for him, but for us. Solidifying what I mean to him.
Yes, we seem to have this crazy connection with a past we were thrown into it seems, but we are so intertwined with each other, it hurts physically to be apart. He gets me on a whole other level than anyone ever has. All my quirks, which are a lot. Nash knows how to break through my tough exterior when I need it the most. Lets me rant when I need to, to be stubborn to an extent and even lies with me in the rain. My missing piece has been given back to me, and I plan on keeping it until the end.
* * *
NASH
Grant pulls in to park in front of Willa’s cabin. But I can’t seem to look away from this precious, alluring woman sitting next to me who has me worried by how quiet she has been on the ride over. Granted, I was on the phone troubleshooting for a good bit of the drive, but she just has a far off look in her eyes. She must be compartmentalizing the month in her head, doing her own troubleshooting and worrying. For me, I know this needs to be the time I lay my cards on the table with her. After all the shit she has gone through, all the time we have spent apart for years.
Willa slides out the door quickly before I can grab her hand. Rushing out behind her, she yelps when I pick her up bridal style to carry her in.
“Nash, seriously.”
“Yes, seriously. Indulge me please.” She huffs under her little grin. Secretly, she loves me to dote on her. Secretly under her tough, fierce exterior she is a true lover and cuddler. I also know better than to say that to her face because she will try her damndest to beat me up. I chuckle to myself because it is pretty adorable when she tries, only for me to lock her wrists together in one hand and tease her with the other, making her forget why she was irate with me to begin with.
“What is that grin for?” she asks as I put her down on the couch in her living room.
“Just thinking about how I use my handsome looks and charm for good.”
“Oh really there, Cowboy.” Sitting her on the couch, looking into her icy blue eyes is all I need to push forward.
“Of course. But right now, I need to tuck those away and be serious with you for a few.” She nods, as if knowing what I am about to say.
Deep breath in, I stand up. Another deep breath in while pulling my shirt off over my head, I start, “These are the scars I have to remember the day several of my squad were killed. Let alone the dozen other civilians and kids that were murdered. For whatever reason, I was spared and spared as a whole. I had two other men make it, but one lost his legs, and the other lost his arm and body was severely burned. Shards of metal ripped through my muscles and tissues with a broken leg and shoulder. For physical injuries, that was all, while the others lost so much more. For years now, I have not been able to come to terms with any of it and how those lost had so much more to live for. To go home too. I have Fletcher because the first several months I was home, I would hit the ground every time there was a loud noise. High stress moments trigger panic attacks for me, which then make me hallucinate back to the scene. I have been sedated more times than I can recall, and the nightmares are hell.”
Willa slowly stands up and walks closer to me, cautiously reaching out to me. Closing the gap between us, she gently glides her fingertips down my side, and I try to hold still as she touches what has been so forbidden to me for so long.
“My need for control for so long, especially during sex has been because I have not wanted others to see me. To touch me and be disgusted like I am. Hands are kept away from my body. Kissing is not allowed. To not be swept up in the moment. Keeping focus and control has been my endgame. Pleasure and get out.”
“Nash…” she whispers in a long sigh. “You make so much more sense now. You have told me time and time again to love my scars, the stories they tell. It’s time you do the same. I can’t begin to relate what hell you went through or losing people in such a circumstance, but I also know, from being around my grandpa, shit happens. Life happens with all its dirty mess. We live in a beautiful but cruel world. The stories he would tell my brother and I and photographs he shared of his time at war was horrific. He was so brave and so are you. You don’t have to tell me the story now. Don’t be mad, but Blake let it slip that you had joined the Veterans group, which I think is wonderful. Just don’t shut me out. If you still have a thought of walking away from us, then just do it now because my heart is like a truck, and you leaving will push it to the salvage yard. There will be no rewiring or gasoline filled dreams left for me.”
Bringing my hands to her face to pull her to my lips is satisfaction. “You have always been the only one, Willa. It has only ever been you my heart was searching for.” Kissing again, I hoist her up around my waist and head to the couch.
“You coming back in my life a month ago had me feeling more like myself than I had in a long time. I have wanted to wake up, to be alive and be thankful. That is because of you. The thought of losing that because you fear I am not strong enough or handle my moments.”
“That is what you are calling them?” She smiles, trying to bring light among the conversation. “Apollo, Nash. Can’t you tell that I am madly in love with you. Apparently always have been.”
“I love you, Willa. So damn much.”
“Make love to me, Nash…Please.”
“I will, baby, but let me taste you first.”
We both stand, hurriedly stripping each other of clothes, before I carry her back to her bed. I lay down on the bed and let her straddle me.
“Closer,” I growl, “Closer, I need to taste you and make you scream first.” Dipping my palm past her clit ring, I smear my fingers in her wetness. “You are already so wet for me, Cherry.” Not able to hold back any longer, I raise her up by her ass cheeks to set her on my face. Before she can even argue, my tongue swipes up her pink wet folds. She moans, and I watch with my eyes as she places her hands on the headboard. My hands clench her ass, slowly pushing and pulling her over my mouth and tongue as I suck, nibble, and lick at her juiciness. She is fastly coming undone, as I twirl my tongue inside of her, moaning my name. I promised I would make her scream it. Shifting one of my hands to massage her clit while I continue to lap her, my cherry begins to buck against my mouth, and it is an immaculate sight to watch her unravel on top of me. Willa’s body shudders out of her orgasm as she shouts my name. My cock now painfully bulging, I flip her down to her back and hover above her. I line myself up at her opening and slowly push in.
“Nash, More!” she yells.
Grunting and groaning, I am trying not to say every explicit word under the sun during this moment. But, “Fuck, you are so tight, Willa. You were made for me. Every part.”
Wrapping her legs around my waist so I slide deeper in, she pulls me down to kiss her.
In and out, in and out, as our sweaty skin slaps against each, making the best noise while I ready myself to release inside of her.
“Wait for me, Cherry.”
“I’m trying. Please, Nash, fill me up.”
Slamming back into her several more times, she is withering beneath me. “Now, Willa. Now.” I feel her sex clench around my shaft, milking me for every last drop, her fingernails digging into my back as we stare into each other's eyes. Bodies hyper aware of the other post, the most intense experience of my life. “Good girl, Cherry.”
“That was the best make up sex ever,” she says exhaustingly.
“Agree,” I murmur, kissing her red, swollen lips. Only to begin again.