Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WILLOW
Taking a step back from the wall, I spin around, my eyes slowly taking in the current appearance of the shop.
Everything looks exactly how I envisioned it.
After I get all the merchandise on this wall, I just need to meet with Miss Maggie about making some different baked goods, then just some small finishing touches and we’re ready to go for Harvest Fest.
This area isn’t as well known for maple farms, but it’s been a tradition that was started years ago when there were more sugar makers.
The festival is always held before the new year, before the farms start to get ready for tapping season.
As of right now, we’re the biggest seller of syrups in Sugar Hill Hollow, although there’s one other farm that remains our main competitor.
Prescott’s Sugar House.
I haven’t heard what their plans are for Harvest Fest and I can only hope that our store out shines the one they have on their property. They never opened one in town and tend to draw in more people who want to see the process of how syrup is made.
Regardless of what they’re doing, I know this has to be successful.
Otherwise, I might as well just pack my bags and get the hell out of this town.
The boxes I bring over to the wall have shirts and mugs packed inside.
There was a company I found from the next town over that was able to get the order filled within two days.
I pull a few out and find a home for each of them on the new shelves.
There’s only one box left when the bell above the front door dings.
I know exactly who it is without even having to look.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I didn’t get a chance to make dinner.”
My heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice and I take a second to silently scold the betraying organ inside my chest.
Lifting my gaze away from the final box of shirts, I look over my shoulder at Jace. “Hey,” I say, offering him a smile. “That’s okay. I told you that you didn’t have to worry about dinner.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “If someone doesn’t worry about feeding you, you’ll starve.”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself, Jace,” I argue, rolling my eyes as I let out a soft laugh.
“Yeah, I know,” he says, stepping deeper into the store as he closes the distance between us. He bends over, lifting a stack of the folded shirts. “But it’s not a crime to let other people take care of you too.”
My breath catches in my throat and my heart pitter patters to its own vulnerable beat as he steps up beside me, handing me the stack. I swallow roughly, pushing the emotions away. Why do I let him have this effect on me? “What are the dinner plans then?”
“Come over and let me cook for you.”
“Jace.”
He lifts a brow. “Willow.” He shakes his head as I open my mouth to argue. “Before you tell me that I don’t have to, I’m well aware. I want to.”
His stare is unwavering and it’s chipping away at my resolve. Arguing with him is useless at this point. I know Jace Miller better than I know anyone else. When he has his mind set on something, good luck at changing it.
My chest heaves as I let out a deep breath, biting back my grin as I turn back to the shelves and slide the stack of shirts onto them. “Okay, you win.”
“I only play to win,” he says with a wink before distracting himself with breaking down the empty boxes.
Damn him and the effect he has on me.
“Can I at least help dry them?” I hop up onto the counter, folding my hands in my lap as Jace pushes his hands into the soapy dishwater. Both cats sit on the floor by our feet with Dr. Grey licking her fur and Snoop just watching.
Jace shakes his head as he scrubs one of the plates with a sponge. “Nope.”
“I didn’t know you were such a good cook.”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he rinses the plate and sets it in the drying rack. “I’m just full of surprises.”
“You are,” I say softly, crossing my ankles over one another. Jace’s eyes are trained on mine as he sets the last dish down and twists the towel around his hands, removing the remaining liquid before he tosses it onto the counter.
Both of the cats scatter from the room.
He’s standing less than two feet away from me and it only takes him a step and a half to close the distance between us. He stops in front of me, his arms hanging by his sides as I tilt my head back to look up at him.
My ankles instinctively separate, my knees parting slightly. His gaze is hooded, lips parted as he studies my face.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is hoarse and thick with lust. He’s looking at me like he wants to devour me.
His hands reach for my knees, pushing them wider as he steps between them.
His right hand lifts to cup my chin and he drags his thumb against my bottom lip.
“I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked on your knees with these pretty lips wrapped around my cock. ”
My stomach does a somersault, my breath hitching as my heart pounds harder. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. The tip of my tongue darts out to touch his thumb.
His nostrils flare, his gaze snapping to mine.
“Fuck, Willow.” A moan rumbles in his throat as I open my mouth wider.
He pushes his thumb between my teeth, pressing down on my tongue as I wrap my lips around him.
I suck on his thumb, and his eyelids flutter shut. “You drive me fucking crazy.”
I grab his wrist, not letting him pull away, and hum my approval.
“This is so fucked up.” He drags his thumb from my mouth and his other hand finds my waist. “I’m not supposed to want you, but I can’t help myself.” He pulls me to the edge of the counter as he presses into me, his right hand slipping around the back of my neck. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
There’s only the material of his pants and the thin material of my panties and leggings separating us.
It’s impossible to not feel how hard he is.
My mouth is instantly dry and my hips start to grind against him, his erection pressing against my clit.
A jolt of pleasure ripples through me. “Yes,” I half moan, a ragged breath escaping me.
“I need you to know before we go any further, I can’t give you anything more than this.” His eyes are on mine. He doesn’t give me a reason why and I don’t want to ask.
“We’re just friends,” I remind him, the words tasting bitter as they roll off my tongue. “This doesn’t have to change that.”
His lips crash into mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth. He’s acting like he’s starved and I’m his last meal. When he pulls back, we’re both panting. He rests his forehead against mine, as if he’s having to restrain himself but he can’t bring himself to lose physical contact.
“If I remember correctly, I believe I have a debt to pay,” he murmurs, his eyes roaming over my face, lingering on my lips before trailing back up to my eyes. “Are you ready to collect?”
His voice vibrates through my entire body, the low timbre sending a shiver down my spine.
“Yes.”
His fingers travel down the sides of my ribs, tracing the curves of my abdomen before dipping beneath the waistband of my pants. His lips nip at mine, his tongue dipping into my mouth as he pushes my leggings halfway over my ass, stopping when he reaches the counter.
“Put your hands on the counter and lift your hips for me, baby,” he growls, pushing his fingers under the hem of my panties. “Now.”
The marble countertop is cool beneath my palms and I do as he says, putting my weight on my hands as I lift myself from it. In one fluid movement, he hooks his fingers around my panties and leggings, sliding them down my legs and over my feet.
His hands wrap around my ankles, his eyes traveling along the insides of my thighs, pausing as they reach my center.
“Fuuuck,” he moans, dragging out the word as his eyes flash to mine.
“Willow.” He releases my ankles, stepping back between my legs as he parts my thighs.
His fingertips dig into my flesh as he slowly lowers himself onto the floor in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I breathe as a nervousness rolls in the pit of my stomach. Jace hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls me so I’m balancing on the edge of the counter.
He flattens his palms on the insides of my thighs, inching closer to my pussy. “Repaying my debt.”
“I—” I start, my eyebrows cinching closer as my anxiety builds. I can’t catch my breath. My thighs push against his hands, trying to close. He looks up at me, blinking twice as the realization washes over him. “Jace.”
“You’ve never done this before,” he says quietly, his voice catching in his throat. There’s no question in his words and there’s no need for me to confirm, but I shake my head anyway. “God, I love that.”
“What?”
He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, his eyes dark as he inches closer to the apex of my thighs. “I love that I get to be your first.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he pushes my thighs wider. “I love that no one else has ever tasted you before.”
“I don’t—I don’t know what to do.”
A smirk dances across his lips. “You just relax and enjoy it, baby.” He lowers his face, his breath drifting across my flesh before he plants a kiss on the tender flesh of the inside of my thigh. “Let me make you feel good.”
“Okay,” I whisper, dipping my chin as anticipation dances in the pit of my stomach.
And then he licks me.
My entire body quivers, my pussy clenching as he drags his tongue against me, rolling it over my clit. “Oh,” I breathe, the word transforming into a moan. My heart pounds erratically against my ribcage as he sucks my clit between his lips and slides two fingers through my lips.
“You’re soaked,” he groans, looking up at me through hooded eyes. He lowers his face again, moving his hand out of the way as he flicks his tongue against my clit.