10. PRESENT DAY – August #2
She loosens her arms, and her knees do this weird jerky thing. Like she almost drops down, but she stops herself too suddenly.
I put a hand to her shoulder. “You’ll be at a good height if you kneel.”
Willow, more confidently, lowers to her knees. My build blocks most of the water spray, so she’s not being drowned. She rests an uncertain hand on my ass. “I might not be any good at this.”
“You don’t have to be good.” I hold the back of her head, more tenderly. “We’re in this together.”
Her lips rise, excitement flickering in her brown eyes.
I palm my erection, and I drink in Willow’s body and emotion before taking her hand in mine and showing her what I like. Wrapping her hand around the base of my shaft.
She opens her mouth. Tentative. I arch my hips forward since she’s not moving her body or hand.
“Wider,” I instruct. “Wrap your lips around your teeth.”
She does, uncertain.
I nod to her. “That’s it.” Her lips glide against my hardness, taking me in her mouth, and the sensitivity shoots up my spine. Christ, that feels… “Fuck.”
She pulls back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no. That felt amazing.”
Willow brightens, and she tries again. My muscles pull taut, just watching my erection fit between her lips.
Fuuuck. My hand tightens on the back of her head. “Willow,” I groan, and her free hand descends between her spread knees. Touching herself.
I light up. On fire.
Her teeth suddenly scratch my flesh. I try to stifle a wince, but she sees and pulls back. “Sorry, did I—”
“It’s okay.” If I wasn’t so pent-up and if I didn’t want to please her so badly, I’d probably coach her to try again.
But I descend to my knees. “Will you stand up?” I ask.
Her face falls. “It was that bad?”
Shit. “It wasn’t close to bad. I just want you too much.”
Her breath comes short and aching, and she kisses my cheek before standing. I drape her leg over my shoulder, our gazes diving deep, and I skim my lips against the inside of her thigh before I suck her clit. Kissing her heat.
“Ahh, I… oh my God . ” She clenches my wet hair. Body rattling and twitching in arousal.
She tastes like bliss. An ecstasy I want to drown into, and she taps my shoulder, alerting me that she wants to come with me inside of her.
We’ve fucked enough that I know that tap , and I drop her foot gently and then lift her at the thighs.
Breath jettisons from her mouth. “Garrison,” she cries in want.
Our lips are parted and skim, as though to kiss, but we can’t catch our breathes. Tension pulled, and I bring her back to the tiled wall.
She buries her head in my shoulder. “Please.”
I push into my girl. Slow, carefully, and she gasps into a shudder. Her body trembling against me. My eyes almost roll back. God, the sensation, the warmth, her wetness—it’s overwhelming.
Holding her, I rock, thrusting my hips, and the friction ignites between us. Steam making it hard to breathe, and the raps on the door and drunken complaints to “hurry up” are distant.
It’s just me and her.
It’s been us for a while, and I’m not letting her go. Against better judgment. Against all odds. I’m not leaving this girl.
She hangs onto me, and I fill her up, in and out. Muscles burning for more and longer, but we reach that peak together.
Once I feel her contract around me, it’s over. I come, groaning out her name, and she cries into my neck. Pleasured cries.
Slowly, we come down, and we end up sinking to the bottom of the tub. Water raining on us, Willow is more tucked into herself, forearms covering her chest. Head bowed down. Sometimes after sex, she gets like this. More cerebral and closed-off.
But she’s across my lap, sort of between my legs, and I have my arms wrapped around her frame, holding her in the position she feels most comfortable.
She nestles her head closer to my chest.
“You replaying it?” I ask against her ear.
She nods.
“Well, just so you know, Willow Hale,” I breathe, “I loved it and I love you.”
Willow smiles, then looks up at me. “I loved it too.”
I nod, already knowing. But it feels good hearing that she’s not second-guessing anything. After a few minutes, letting our heart rates descend together, we rise, and I wash her hair. She scrubs shampoo through mine. We laugh and joke, and everything feels about normal.
Except we’re not in Philly.
London.
I’m here just for now. By the time we exit and dry off, we realize the music isn’t on and the chatter is gone.
“The party must be over,” Willow says, knotting a towel around her body. Black-rimmed glasses back on.
I could wear clean clothes from my duffel, but I think she’d feel more comfortable if we both went out in towels. So I tie a towel at my waist.
“I’ll check.” I open the door, and I see a graveyard of college debauchery. Spilt alcohol, bottles, cans, and cups—so many fucking cups. “Yep, it’s over.” I don’t see Tess or Sheetal, but I’m guessing they’re in their room or maybe they went out to a bar.
I grab my duffel, and when we exit into the common area, I roll my eyes at the sight of Salvatore.
Willow pales, holding breath.
At least the douche is cleaning his mess, plucking bottles off the kitchen counter and shoving them in a trash bag.
We exchange a glare but no words.
He makes a show of looking from her towel to mine. He zeroes in on my tattoos. Then to my girlfriend, he says, “If you need anything, Willow, just call me.”
Don’t be a dick.
Don’t be a dick.
I bite down on my teeth.
“I’ll be fine,” Willow says softly and turns more to me. “That’s my room.” She motions to a door past the kitchen. Her phone suddenly rings, and I can’t see who calls but concern cinches her brows. “I have to take this—” She leaves quickly for her room.
Not even glancing at me.
Something is wrong.
I’m about to follow when Salvatore says, “She’s been acting strange ever since December.”
My jaw tics, hating how he’s acting like they’re BFFs and I’m no one. “Yeah?”
Bottles clink as more fill the bag. “Her whole mood changes when she gets these phone calls.” His eyes hit mine. “I thought it was you that was calling.”
Not me.
I’m officially freaking the fuck out.