Chapter 23
THATCHER
It’s not just bubblegum.
It’s my favorite damn kind—the one I was obsessed with when I was a kid.
The kind we chewed at Little League, stuffing our mouths with it before practice, blowing bubbles we weren’t supposed to, laughing like we didn’t know how fast the world would get hard.
Sweet. Tangy. Familiar.
And it hits me so sharply it damn near hurts.
Because that scent is her.
Wrapped up in warmth and softness and need.
It’s innocence and heat tangled together, and it makes something primal rear up inside me. Delicious.
And I want to devour her.
Willow is everything I knew she would be—responsive and real and undone in my arms, breath hitching, soft body yielding like she’s been waiting for permission she never needed to ask for.
And when she comes apart beneath me—clinging, gasping, trusting me with sounds and reactions she didn’t even know she had—I know this isn’t a moment.
It’s a beginning.
I’m not finished with Baby Girl yet. Not by a long shot.
Something fierce and possessive locks into place in my chest, heavy and unmovable.
I don’t want just tonight.
I don’t want just her body.
I want all of her.
Her mornings.
Her laughter.
Her fear, when she’s ready to hand it over.
Am I sure? About ninety-five percent.
I won’t know the other five until I hear her truth.
But I know I’m not done.
I won’t be done.
Not until I’ve claimed every piece she’s willing to give—and proven, over and over again, that she’s safe doing it with me.