15. Willow
15
WILLOW
“Maybe together we can get somewhere,” I belt out, singing along to my favorite playlist as I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself.
From the tiny room at the top of the stairs that I turned into my walk-in closet, I spot a figure jogging up my front path. It started to rain at some point, and is coming down pretty hard. I peer down, catching sight of Blackout before he vanishes under the roof of my porch. What's he doing here?
The doorbell rings, and then he knocks.
I should probably put clothes on, but a naughty little inner voice asks: Why?
He's seen more of me than most, including watching me come on Dragon's lap while he had his big dick in his hand. We're a little bit beyond modesty at this point.
Also, I’m feeling just frustrated enough at constantly getting interrupted when I’m with them that the thought of him helping me out of the towel and inspiring me sounds like a pretty good idea. So I tip toe barefoot down the stairs, clutching my towel so it doesn't slip, and open the door just a crack, the safety chain still on.
“Blackout?”
“Hey, you're home.” His deep green eyes sparkle like jade as he takes in what I’m not wearing. His lips quirk into a grin, and hair is glued to his skin in tight wet curls. “Bad time? Or perfect timing?”
“I don’t know. Will you behave if I let you in?”
He licks his lips like a hungry fox. “Not gonna make promises I can't keep with you looking like that, but I'll give it a try. Question is, do you want me to?” He leans his hand on the door frame, so his face is almost right up against mine, only the narrow open crack of the door between us. “I’ve got a thing or two I can teach you, I promise.”
I slide the security chain open. “Is that why you came?” Why is my heart beating so fast? Isn't this what I was hoping for?
He lets out a low chuckle as he comes into the house. “Haven’t come yet, honey. But actually, it's not. I got a favor to ask.”
I lock the door behind him, watching a little breathlessly as he shakes out his hair. He’s wearing a white t-shirt under his leather vest, and it’s practically see through and clinging to him like a second skin. So are his jeans.
“Want me to take some of this off so I don't get your place wet?” From the look in his eyes, he’s definitely noticed I’m staring. “Or do you want to do it for me?”
“Your boots at least, so you're not dragging water through the house. I'll find you a towel.”
He reaches out, making a half-hearted swipe for the towel I’m wearing. “Got one right there. I wouldn't mind borrowing.”
“Watch it!” I can't help but laugh at the grin on his face.
“I fucking am. You think I can take my eyes off you, girl? Jesus Christ.”
I stick out my tongue and run upstairs as he leans down to pull off his boots. Answering the door in a towel seemed playful, but should I get dressed now? Hm. I pull on pj pants and a tank top with a built-in shelf bra. It’s not nearly enough support, but feels like a good compromise. And it’s nothing that would, um, get in the way of wherever things might lead.
You know, just in case.
I make a point of throwing him the towel I was wearing. “Here.”
He snags it out of the air and presses it to his face, giving it a deep sniff. “Smells like you. Nice.”
Blushing, I scoot past him into the kitchen, while he dries his hair. “Do you want coffee or something to warm up?”
“Sure, if you’ve got it.”
“I work from home, on demand caffeine is basically my drug. Do you want it black like Dragon? Or are you a regular human who values their stomach lining?” I start the brewing process and turn just in time to watch him peel his wet shirt off. His torso is chiseled and muscular, with a particularly deep scar under his ribcage on the right. It looks like someone tried to run him through and nearly succeeded. As he towels off, I'll freely admit I watch. “Here, throw me the shirt and I'll toss it in the dryer.”
“Can have my pants too.” He lobs the shirt at me and it squishes when I catch it.
“Only if you're wearing underwear.”
He unbuckles his pants and lets them drop, revealing a pair of black boxer briefs that leave pretty much nothing to the imagination. Not that I have to imagine. I saw it all last night, but still… that's one heck of a bulge. A massive snake tattoo winds around his left thigh, mouth open and fangs out, poised to strike.
“That’s a big snake you’ve got,” I tease.
“Even bigger up close.”
“I'd lend you some clothes,” I yell over my shoulder from the little laundry room off the kitchen, “but I don't think I'd have anything that'd fit you. Maybe a blanket so you don't get cold?”
“I'm good. Thanks. And black is fine.” He takes the coffee cup off the counter and sets mine under the spout. “How do you work this thing?”
“Just hit the button next to the little picture of the taller glass. It’ll do it all automatically.”
I throw his stuff in the dryer and try not to ogle as I grab mugs and pull out the milk and sugar. “You said you needed a favor?”
Blackout leans against the counter with his hip cocked. It makes his abs stand out, and my hands shake a little as I fix my coffee. From the cocky grin, I'm pretty sure he knows exactly what that body's doing to me.
“Yeah, and I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself, know what I mean? It's a little sensitive. I’d like to put your address down for something I’m ordering.”
“Why? Don't you have an address at the club?”
He scratches the back of his neck, looking shifty as heck. “Personal business, and as much as I trust my brothers at the club, they gossip like old fucking ladies. I don't want this out in the open, at least not yet.” He sounds bothered by it, a little embarrassed. I'm so confused.
“Is it drugs?” I spin on him, glaring. “No, wait. Gossip? Oh my God, is it a paternity test? Divorce papers?”
Blackout stares at me like I’m a crazy person. “Drugs? Why the fuck would I want to run drugs through your—no, it’s nothing illegal, and since you’re asking so politely, no I don’t have a soon to be ex-wife, or any mystery kids. Jesus Christ. Forget I asked. I'll figure out something else.”
Now I’m going to die of curiosity and I feel guilty. “No wait, I was mostly kidding. I'm not saying no. Just, if it's so personal, why would you entrust me with it? You hardly know me.”
“I know character. If I make you promise not to tell something personal, you'll take that to your fucking grave. Am I wrong?” He raises a questioning eyebrow while crossing his inked arms over his impressive chest. The cool air has his nipples peaked. I drag my eyes back up to his face, where he's waiting. “View distracting you?”
I raise my chin defiantly. “A little, and no, you're right. I wouldn't tell. Is it a package, or?”
“Probably a letter, if anything. I have to send some shit and if they respond by mail I’d rather it come here first. I swear it’s nothing dangerous. It's not important to anyone else but me. I'll make it worth your while,” he promises with a sexy rasp that has my nipples tightening.
I sit down and sip my coffee to give myself time to formulate an answer. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything. I don't like it, I don't answer.” He sits in the chair across from me, leaning back with his right arm spread onto the back of the next chair. With where the table is, it looks like he's naked, which is actually less distracting than being able to see the anaconda in his briefs.
“Maybe I’m overthinking, but I want to be really upfront with you. Are you all okay with this?” I motion back and forth between the two of us. “All this flirting and fooling around? I know it’s just for fun, but I don’t want to break a rule that I don’t know about, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Myself included.
“You’re safe with the three of us.” He declares it like it's law, his voice dropping deep and blooming a little flare of horny energy in my belly. “We know the score, but no one else. You want to change that? Say so, but until then, you’re ours. Clear?”
There's no wiggle room with that kind of tone. “Clear, but did you guys have a meeting to decide or something?”
“Yes.”
“I was joking!”
He cocks his head to the side as he sizes me up, an invitation and a challenge rolled up in one. “I’m not.”
I'm not sure if I should be terrified or flattered. “So if I asked you what you meant by making it worth my while?” I trap the side of my lip with my teeth, suddenly nervous about his answer.
Blackout leans forward and grabs the front legs of my chair, pulling me right in front of him. “You ever come on someone's tongue? You said you’ve never gotten off during sex, but what about with a man’s fingers buried inside you while he tastes your fucking cream?”
My eyes are wide, and my heart is racing. I glance down. The bulge in his underwear is growing as I watch, and my memory of it is still crystal clear. I shake my head. “No one has ever offered.”
Surprise flickers across his face. “Never? You need to get us a fucking list of the guys you’ve been with because they need—nah, never mind. We’d fucking kill them.” From the viciousness of his growl, I actually believe him. He stands, putting that bulge so close I can make out the ridge around the head of his cock.
Blackout grabs the towel and spreads it on the table. He lifts me like he doesn’t even notice my weight and lays me down on the towel with a big, strong hand right over my belly.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a breathy whisper.
“I think you fucking know.”