Page 44 of Playboy Pitcher
“Willow…” he groans between kisses. It’s that groan that clouds my judgment. It turns a clear window opaque, crossing all kinds of lines and wires in my head. “Tell me to stop.”
I want to. God, I have to…
But I don’t.
Even when his fingers slip underneath the lace. Even when they trace the wetness around my opening. Even when one sinks deep inside me, causing us both to gasp.
“Jesus, you’re wet,” he rasps against my lips, slowly pumping his finger in and out.
Closing my eyes, I toss my head back, bucking my hips to his maddening rhythm.
“Fuck my hand, Willow,” he commands hotly, and I obey, chasing his finger every time he draws back. When his thumb finds my clit, I cry out.
“No…” I gasp, but it’s too late. The combination of his wicked finger and expert thumb tosses me into a tidal wave that crashes me onto a rocky shore, and I come.
I’m still trying to catch my breath when I feel him reach inside his boxers. In that moment, reality hits me like a bucket of ice-cold water.
“I said no!”
Ben pulls his hand back just as I shove my mine against his chest. My body is on fire by the time I climb out of bed and stumble toward the window. Unsurprisingly, everything is quiet outside. It’s almost six a.m., after all. Most of the sane world is just waking up to start their day.
Then there’s me.
There’s us.
Two people who let things go too far and almost made a huge mistake. Two people who are about to take the most sacred of vows and shit all over them in the name of greed and revenge.
For the first time, as I look out over St. Mary’s, Georgia, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Maybe Dad had his reasons. Maybe I should sell the team to Drake and walk away with a clean slate.
I glance down as Ben lets out a frustrated sigh behind me. “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted—”
Turning around, I brush past him. “We have to be at City Hall in two hours.” I avoid his eyes as I climb back into bed and pull the covers up to my chin. “We should get some sleep.”
There’s a moment of tense silence. “Right,” he concedes, a hard edge to his voice. “I’ll take the floor.”
“I’m not making you sleep on a hotel room floor. We’re grown-ass adults. I think we can sleep in the same bed for one night.”
“Sure. For one night.” The words are clipped and distant. I can’t blame him. The Jekyll and Hyde shit I just pulled probably gave him whiplash. This time as he climbs into bed, he mimics my position, edging close to the opposite side of the king-size bed.
“Ben?”
“What?” he growls.
“Happy wedding day.”
Chapter Fifteen
Standingin the parking lot outside City Hall, I stare down at the official paper in my hand. The world buzzes to life around me, but it feels like I’m not a part of it. It’s like I’m standing on the fringe. Not inside or outside, just…there.
We did it. We actually did it.
I’m married.
And exhausted.
Even after my grand proclamation about getting some sleep, I never shut my eyes. My mind kept churning. Replaying what almost happened. Remembering the feel of Ben’s lips and the taste of his kiss.
No. Sleep never came for me. Instead, I watched the minutes tick away on my phone until my alarm blared, shooting me like a cannon out of bed and into the bathroom.
