Page 45 of Lone Wolf in Lights
The words landed heavily, reverberating through Eli’s chest. He swallowed hard, the impact of her gesture reaching deep into places he rarely let see the light. The ornament was a photograph of his mother and Miranda hugging. “How did you get the photograph?” he managed.
“Jaxon gave it to me,” she said.
He could barely breathe, move...anything. “Willow, I...” His voice trailed off, lost amidst the swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
Her smile was tender, laced with an understanding that went beyond words. “They’re part of you, Eli. And seeing how much they mean to you... I wanted to honor that.”
The gravity of her kindness anchored him in the moment, rooting him to the spot beside her. A swell of something he couldn’t quite name—gratitude, affection, reverence—washed over him. It was as if she’d woven a thread between their two souls, stitching together something he thought irrevocably broken.
“Thank you,” he managed to say, the simplicity of the words inadequate for the weight of his gratitude.
Their eyes locked, and in that instant, Eli felt the walls he had meticulously built around himself begin to crumble. The need to be close to her—to share in the solace she offered so freely—pulled at him with an urgency he hadn’t realized he was capable of feeling.
“Come with me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, as he scooped up her hand, leading her away.
They wove through the throngs of people. The city hall loomed ahead, its stately columns promising the privacy they needed. He pushed open the heavy door, and they slipped inside, the echo of their footsteps mingling with the hallowed silence of the grand hallway.
His pulse quickened as he searched for an unlocked door. A janitor’s closet, perhaps, or an unused office—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the space behind it.
When he finally found one unlocked, he opened it, and tugged her inside.
Willow’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened. “We can’t just go into a room here,” she gasped, the words barely above a whisper.
“Can’t we?” he challenged.
Before she could protest further, he shut the door behind them. The room was steeped in shadows, the faint glimmer of streetlights filtering through a crack in the blinds.
“Trust me,” he breathed against her ear. He gathered her in his arms, hot and hard now. As he pressed against her, his restraint shattered, and with a growl that rumbled from deep within, he pushed Willow against the closed door. He crashed his mouth against hers in a fiery kiss that spoke more to any words he could say. His lips moved against hers with a fervency that left no room for doubt of his gratitude toward her, his tongue tangling with hers in a dance that was both primal and achingly intimate.
The world outside the walls seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them. Here, in this moment, he allowed himself to feel everything—every minute of his wanting her—as their lips crashed together.
The urgency of his kiss gave way to a frenzied undressing, hands grappling with the stubborn denim that encased her legs. With a swift tug, her pants were discarded and so were his. Without pause, he sheathed himself in a condom.
She panted against the door, and he stepped forward, hooking her leg onto his arm, pressing the tip of his cock against her entrance. The air was thick with desire as he gripped her hip. Her breath hitched, and it was the only invitation he needed, he surged forward in one swift stroke.
She moaned loudly, and he ate the sound with his hungry kiss.
His world narrowed to the rhythm of their breaths, the squeeze of her sweet, slick heat against him, clenching tighter. Every moan that escaped her lips was a call he answered with a deeper thrust.
She clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, urging him closer, deeper. He grabbed her other leg, and she wrapped both around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. There was no space for thoughts—only the electric slide of skin on skin, the sweet friction that built a wicked fire.
As the pleasure rose, time seemed to warp. Seconds stretched into eternity; each moment filled with sensation that burned hotter with every touch. And when the heat spiraled down his spine moving toward completion, he thrust forward hard, bucking against her, as her cry of release soared over him.
When his mind returned to him, Willow shifted, lowering her legs, her movement drawing Eli’s gaze to hers.
Her eyes sparkled, her lips curling into a smile that reached deep into his core.
“Your gentle side has its charm,” Willow teased, breathless. “But whatever side that was of you—I really,reallylike it.”
He chuckled. “Good, because apparently, I have no control around you.” He took her chin, sealing that truth with a kiss.
Fourteen
Two weeks had flown by in a whirlwind of sweet and sizzling late nights with Eli and endless Christmas crafts. The Christmas market was only five nights away, and Willow felt Christmas magic sweep over all of Timber Falls. She threaded her way through the clusters of laughter and chatter in the bar, her heart swelling as she took in the scene before her. The whole crafting group was there, working hard to finish as many crafts as they could before the market.
“Look at this one, Wills!” Aubrey called out, holding up an ornament shaped like a moose, its tiny antlers wrapped in shimmering twine.
“I absolutely love that one,” Willow said. “Keep it for me. I want to buy it for the bar.”
