By the time the interview was over we were nearly at each other’s throats—Bethany and I—and Willow’s calm expression had soured to a scowl. Peter couldn’t get us out of there fast enough. The minute the cameras stopped rolling, Willow stormed away from me into the greenroom and grabbed her purse. I followed her to the car where the argument started.
“I can’t believe you let her trash me like that.” Willow’s face was red, her arms crossed in a fury.
“What do you mean?” I thought back to what Bethany had said, insulting Willow’s academic performance. “She wasn’t even that rude.”
“Fuck you, Charles. You have no clue.” She could have spat in my face.
Peter held his hands out and tried to calm us, but we both ignored him.
“Why are you being so hostile? I didn’t bring up college. She did.” I fumed, staring out the window. She was obstinate and loud, and I wanted out of this car with her.
“I struggled in college, okay? I had to get a freshman to tutor me in a few classes. How the fuck did they find that shit out? And drag me through the mud on public television? How will that look for my accounting firm!”
I felt the smack in the face that didn’t come but should have. Willow ranted, yelling and spitting even, but I held my tongue. I had no clue she had struggled with her grades. I had no knowledge of her having a tutor but thinking back it made sense. She had pulled away from me, or at least I thought she had. But what if that was not her pulling away from me? What if it was her digging deeper into her studies and I had read the entire thing wrong?
The shouting continued all the way home and up to my apartment. Peter washed his hands of us, leaving in the car and not joining us inside. The fury only got worse when we were alone too.
I was in for a horrible night.
18
WILLOW
Iwas hurt to say the least. Not that the media had dug into my past, but how Charles hadn’t even attempted to defend my honor. This damn contract had just struck a blow to my career, my firm, maybe even my friendships. I was furious, but I wasn’t allowed to say anything. We had promised each other that we would stay on neutral ground where we wouldn’t get into tiffs over our past. I paced the living room angrily until he cornered me.
“What the hell is wrong!”
My chest rose and fell quickly as the anger boiled over. I was trying to make this arrangement work, but he was pushing me closer to the edge of the cliff. And although I wanted to slap him, the desire for him that had accumulated far outweighed my urge to end this and leave. We had something. It was powerful, and it connected us, and it was the reason why we were together now, after all these years. If he couldn’t see what even the fucking talk show host saw, I would have to force him to see it.
I narrowed my eyes and moved toward him, pushing him hard into the wall. He parted his lips to speak, but I silenced him with mine. Seizing any opportunity for him to ruin this moment. We twirled our tongues around each other’s feverishly. I dug my nails into his chest as our kiss deepened.
He moaned inside of my mouth and tried to push me off him, but I resisted, taking his hands inside of mine, pushing them up against the wall. I felt him stiffen beneath me. I pressed my pelvic region into his to nurture the flames our argument had ignited beneath the surface. He regained control, pushing me away.
“No!” he yelled, “I’m not doing this with you.”
I scowled. Tears forming. He had to see it, to feel it. I knew he had, or else he wouldn’t have fucked me twice already. I wanted him to feel the connection, the power it held when we were together. I was sick of running from the past. He did not get to dump me then come back and use me. He had to feel something.
I noticed the way his pants bulged out. His feeble attempt to resist the urge his body had already begun to give in to was admirable. To entice him, I gradually slid my dress up over my hips to give him a preview of what he was about to get. I eased the sheer panties that felt like silk against my skin down. Inching them lower until they hit the floor. My eyes were locked on his as I stepped out of my panties, kicking them to the side. My nakedness was on full display. I walked over to him and yanked his sweater out to pull it over his head. He continued his resistance, and I continued to ignore it.
“Stop, Willow,” he protested.
I licked my lips.
We tussled some more until he had my back against the cold window. The glass chilled my skin as he glared at me with a mixture of contempt and lust. He gripped my wrists tightly. I returned his glare. He pushed two fingers inside of me aggressively.
“Ahh,” I moaned as I gritted my teeth together.
His strokes were quickened. Forceful. He was trying to punish me. Establish his dominance over me. I pursed my lips to let the bated breaths escape. The farther his finger went inside of me, the tighter his grip became around my wrists.
“Is this what you want,” he asked, pressed against my ear. Pleasure had paralyzed my tongue leaving me unable to speak. I nodded with the little motion I had. He nibbled on my earlobe. I rolled my eyes to the back of my head. My knees were close to buckling, and I was doing everything in my power not to slide down the window. “Are you sure?” he tightened his grip again. His velvety baritone voice was an aphrodisiac to my lower region. I tightened my lips around his fingers.
I swallowed and said, “Yes.”
“Hmm…how bad do you want it?”
I captured my lower lip with my teeth. He wanted me to beg for it. I rolled my tongue across my upper lip. “Not that much.”
He pushed his body into mine, pressing his full weight against me as his finger inched farther inside of me. The way his fingers explored my pussy freely indicated how wet I was.