Page 27 of Bring Me Back
A scream tears from my throat. It’s not pain, but not exactly pleasure. At least not at first. He grips my upper arm, squeezing hard and burying his face in my neck. He bites the flesh between my neck and shoulder, holding himself still inside me as my body adjusts.
“Holy motherfucking shit, Willow. Fucking hell. I knew you would feel like paradise, but fuck.” He pants heavily against my skin. “I’m gonna move. Don’t tense, baby. I promise I’ll take care of you.”
I know everything he’s saying is true, but convincing my body to listen is another problem entirely. Every muscle I possess is flexed tightly, screaming against the intrusion while my mind begs him to never leave. I’m gonna feel him for days, but I’ve never been so completely possessed by a man. Truth be told, I’ve only ever been intimate with one other man, and it was hardly a romantic experience. I bury my face against his shoulder as his thrusts become more and more reckless. His tempo is brutal, punishing even. I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I laid eyes on him, and it’s more than I could’ve ever imagined. He punctuatesevery thrust with a groan, his control slipping further and further away. I wanted him wild, and that’s exactly what he’s giving me. Pure, unsullied lust and need. More pleasure than I’ve ever felt before, even at my own hand. He plays my body as if he designed every nerve ending himself.
“Oh, god. Beck I-” pressure builds behind my eyes, blood rushing to my head and further south. “I don’t…I can’t…oh, fuck.”
Coherent thought is lost on me. The only thing I can focus on is the way he makes my body beg for him. The bed frame creaks under his force, the wood groaning. He slides one hand up, tweaking my nipple as his tongue delves into my mouth and his pelvic bone grinds against me just right to drive me absolutely fucking insane. I’m gonna come. Years of orgasm-less, unsatisfying sex did not prepare me for the things this man is capable of.
“Come for me, pretty girl. Come all over my cock,” he demands, one hand gripping my throat loosely as my body obeys his commands. I shatter, my body convulsing around his, and I grip his arms so tightly I know he’ll be bruised tomorrow. He swells inside me, the sensation palpable, but his thrusts never loosing their rhythm of brutality.
“Mine. Every fucking inch of you is mine,” he growls, the need building in me all over again. Just as I reach the peak, he hikes my leg up over his hip. The tip of his cock pummels deeper into me, and I come with a scream. Myheart stutters in my chest, and I feel him explode inside me, the muscles in his back tightening to the point of pain as he pours everything he’s got into me.
My head falls back against the pillow, his resting against my chest as we both struggle to calm our racing hearts. His breath comes in pants across my sweat-soaked skin until it evens out. He drops to his side, his weight covering half of my body. My heart rate evens out inside my chest, and the reality of what just happened creeps in on me. I do not regret a single moment I’ve ever spent with Beckett.
But a poisonous thought creeps into my mind. I really just slept with a man who isn’t my husband.Fuck, I’m still a married woman.
“I can feel your mind spiraling, Willow. Don’t go there.” He tugs my body closer into his side, wrapping a powerful arm around my waist and gripping me tightly. I bite my bottom lip and nod quietly, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. I hate feeling even an ounce of guilt about this, but I can’t help it. I gave my body and my heart to Cooper, and I meant it. Even though he didn’t. Even though he betrayed me and turned that commitment into something horrific, I’m still struggling to feel like I didn’t do something wrong.
“I’m married.” The sentence hangs in the air between us as I chew the skin on the inside of my mouth. I can feel a hint of panic rising within me, and I fucking hate being this way. Cooper doesn’t deserve myloyalty or respect. I left for a damn good reason, and I deserve to have happiness in my life.
“No. You aren’t.” He says so matter-of-factly it interrupts my downward spiral. Sitting up, I give him a questioning look, waiting for his elaboration.
“I’m pretty sure I was there.” I joke, my mind a hurricane of anxiety, confusion, and the remnants of the euphoric feelings Beck gave me only moments ago.
“Lily Miller is married. And you haven’t been her in a long fucking time. Willow Hawthorne is free as the breeze, baby.” He smirks, his face half buried in the pillow next to me. He speaks with so much confidence, I can’t disagree. I am my own woman, and the only power Cooper has over me is whatever I give him. And I choose to give him nothing.
How can I when everything I am and everything I have already belongs to Beckett?
seventeen
Three nightsof Willow falling asleep in my arms and I know I’m done. She’s ruined me for any other woman, and I’m more than happy with that reality. She asked me to sleep in the master bedroom, the one I designed to perfectly match the subtle hints she’s dropped over the years. This was always supposed to be our space, never anyone else’s.
Tonight, Jaxon and I are attempting to cook dinner before she gets home from work, and the whole experience is so domestic. He’s telling me about his upcoming graduation, and I’m thinking about all the ways I want to help him make his dreams come true. I’ve never really imagined being anyone’s dad before, and I know Jaxon is practically a man now. But I want to be here to support him in any way he’ll let me.
“I really feel like art school is the way to go for me. Imean, I know my mom isn’t exactly happy with that, but when I think about the future, I feel like that’s where I see myself.” Jaxon says, chopping vegetables and dropping them into a bowl.
“Your mom loves you, Jax. She just wants you to be happy, no matter what that means. Yes, you are incredibly smart. And I’m sure your mom has probably made jokes about you not wasting your potential, but she would always cheer you on. You know that.” I’m not sure how encouraging I should be here.
“I just feel like…look at everything my mom has done for me. Look how hard she’s worked to build some semblance of a normal life for me. She’s always protected me, shielded me from every bad thing she possibly could. Wouldn’t I just be throwing all her hard work away to give up on the life she dreams about for me just for art?” He doesn’t look up from the cutting board, but I can see his brows furrowed. This is eating at him, and I think it’s totally unnecessary. Willow loves Jaxon more than she loves herself. I truly believe she would celebrate any choice he made, even if she didn’t quite agree.
“You’re right. Your mom has worked her ass off and sacrificed so much to give you the lifeyoualways dreamed of. She did that for you. So you didn’t end up in the same vicious cycle of bullshit and abuse with your father. If you think for even one second she would want you wasting that opportunity on something that didn’tbring you the most joy you could possibly find, you’re wrong.” Pulling the dish of marinated steaks out of the fridge, I lean against the counter just staring at him.
He won’t look up from his task, and I know he’s lost in thought. I’m right. We both know it. Willow isn’t a controlling mom by any means. Ultimately, we both know the reason she left Jaxon’s dad in the first place was to give Jaxon and herself the life they really deserve. No matter what that looks like. I reach for the dish to take it to the grill, but his words stop me in my tracks.
“She’s different with you,” he says quietly. “She’s…softer. Like she doesn’t have to be on guard every second of the day. As shitty as it sounds, I’ve never seen my mom relaxed. We’ve lived our entire lives like we’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But here with you, she feels safe. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance to see my mom that way, Beckett. I figured we would be living in fight or flight until my dad found us and made me watch as he killed her. I know that sounds twisted as fuck, but it’s what I always thought would happen. That I didn’t have a choice but to follow in my father’s footsteps because he wouldn’t ever allow any other course. But you gave us a different direction. And for the first time I’m actually thinking about what I want to make out of this life.” His confession burns through my chest. For a child, even a young man, to live that way is fucking disgusting.
“That man is not your dad. He may have hada hand in creating you, but he has nothing to do with the man you’re becoming. It’s not in spite of him. That’s beneath you. This life is for you, Jaxon. No one else.Thatis the life your mother fought for you to have.” He nods solemnly, and the sound of my phone ringing disrupts the emotional moment between us. Blocked caller flashes across the screen, and my gut clenches. “Take these to the grill, and I’ll be right out to help you. I have to answer this.”
He smirks, carrying the dish outside and shutting the door. I swipe to answer quickly, concern already building inside my chest.
“This is Helo.” I say, already knowing who calls from a blocked number each and every time.
“Mr. Hayes. This is Sebastian. I think we may have a problem with our little arrangement. I’ve had a man following your shop girl. Very few problems, he says she’s really quite boring. However, he doesn’t believe he is the only one following your woman.” Arsenio sounds uninterested, and I’m sure he has better things to do with his time and energy than police my personal life.
“What do you mean? He saw someone else trailing her?” Putting the phone on speaker, I pull up the camera feeds at the shop.
“Two different someones to be exact. A man, greasy, disheveled, drives a piece of shit car and takes pictures of her from a distance. The worst surveillance I’ve ever heard of, honestly. Whoever directed him to do soobviously doesn’t care about his sloppy behavior. I believe it may be in your best interest, and in the best interest of Miss Hawthorne, to venture out of town for a few days. Let things die down and see where this shadow of hers ends up. Would you like me to facilitate an extended vacation of sorts?” His Spanish accent sounds so professional as he tells me to leave town and avoid surveillance. I really do live the strangest life sometimes.
