Page 21 of Valentine's Day Proposal

“You’re lying,” he said as the warm breath from his mouth breezed past my lips. “You’ve been lying since you came back into my life.” He pulled his fingers from inside of me and up to my lips, smearing the wetness they were soaked in across my lips. Then he sucked it off of them. Gently biting them before he thrusted his tongue back inside of my mouth. He released my hands and I clawed at his sides.

He was right. I had been lying to both of us. I wanted him. I wanted what I was supposed to have had seven years ago. I wanted that ring, the house, the 2.5 kids, a dog, a white picket fence. I wanted it all. And I hated myself for wanting it.

I tugged at the string on his jogging pants then slid them over his hips, freeing his cock. I wrapped my hand around him as I stroked him to his full hardness. He grew inside of my hand as I teased the tip with my thumb.

“Mmmm,” he groaned against my lips.

He lifted me up then slid me down onto him. I arched my head against the window as I bounced on top of him. Charles freed one of my buttocks and pushed harder into me. I gasped for air as he plunged deeper, pushing into my back wall. A tear formed in the corner of my eye as I struggled to moan. It hurt so good. The way he could make me hate and love him at the same time.

My eyes bored into his. The salacious scowl on his face stimulated my body in ways that left me vexed. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, pounding inside of me.

I could barely breathe. And my body was shaking beneath the surface. I tightened my legs around him and pushed myself farther down onto him. I wanted to feel him in the deepest parts of me.

“Fuck me,” I commanded. “Fuck me like you used to. Like when you loved me.”

His muscular hand squeezed tighter on my ass. His cock went as far as it could. I dug my fingernails into his back, clawing him like a wild cat. The battle between cold and hot were competing as the condensation forming on the window did its best to simmer the raging flames inside of me. My back screeched against the glass. I held onto him for dear life. We were dueling—silently but we both understood despite nothing being said.

He thrusted. I grinded. He tightened his grip. I did the same. I felt him throbbing inside of me and I knew we were nearing the end of this round. I felt the pressure rise as I boiled over. Closing my eyes, I opened my mouth to release the caged moan his kisses had suppressed.

“I’m coming…I’m coming.” My nails formed a trail across his back. “Ahhhhhh,” I released. I shuddered against him as my body climaxed. His cock penetrated my pussy so deep and so hard it honestly hurt. And when my scream of pleasure met the flesh of his shoulder and I bit down, I felt him release, spilling into me.

His thrusts slowed, the rage I felt abated—replaced with a desperate need for air. He pinned me against the window long after he pulled out. Our foreheads remained pressed together, both of us out of breath. I cried, the tears dripping down onto my sweater. I couldn’t let him go. The day had been too intense, the moment too overwhelming.

“Willow, we can’t keep fighting like this. And if we’re going to honor the contract, we can’t keep having sex either.”

His words didn’t sound hollow and stale. They weren’t rhetoric. This wasn’t the man who fucked me and threw a credit card at me. This was my Charles, the one I missed. The one I longed for day and night for years. The one who turned me to drinking and drove me to work long hours every night at work just to forget his existence. I hated him. I loved him. I didn’t want him anywhere near me, and I wanted him inside me again and again, all at once.

“Hold me,” I whispered.

I watched his lips turn downward at the corner. But when I staggered like a drunkard toward the bedroom, unable to walk because the orgasm had left me legless, he followed me. I peeled my clothing off and lay down. He climbed in beside me, wearing only his boxers. He curled around me, his chest pressing against my back. I cried.

“We have spent enough time hurting each other.” His soft words soothed an ache inside my heart.

“I know.” I held his hand to my chest tightly. “We have, and there is nothing we can do to undo the past.” I kissed his knuckles one at a time.

“We were so in love, Willow. What happened?”

“I’m still in love, Charles.” I sighed, scooting back into his chest harder. I had come to terms with my emotions long ago. Contract or not, being around him again had ruined my heart. I needed him as much now as I ever had. “I’m still in love.”

I waited for him to reply. Prayed that he would respond and tell me he, too, was in love. But I lay there so long the only response I got was light snoring. Either I had pissed him off again by breaking the “no love” portion of the contract, or he was afraid to admit he loved me too. He was still in bed with me, so that was a good sign, but I suddenly felt cold, like the way he held me was because I had ordered him to do it, and not because he wanted to.

Had everything he’d done since February been just to keep me happy, so I’d stay here? The tears came faster. I wasn’t a pawn. I wanted to scream it at him, but if tonight proved anything, it proved he was a great actor. The Charles I knew would have broke; he would have expressed his love once for all.

No, this wasn’t my Charles. He just looked like him. And I was just a pawn. I needed Mel. I needed my best friend to slap some sense into me before I turned into yet another tragedy of politics. I couldn’t let my heart betray my better judgment. This was an agreement. Nothing more.

19

CHARLES

When I woke up, Willow was still sleeping. It was peaceful watching her resting, but I knew the day would pose challenges for us. Selecting outfits for events always did. She was unique, eccentric, always wearing florals or some sort of flouncy material. Peter preferred her to dress more strict-professional with business suits or tailored dresses. I didn’t relish the thought of shopping with her, but I was looking forward to spending the day with her. Her tax season woes were over, and she’d allotted the next few months to campaigning with me.

I had the strong urge to push a few of her dark hair out of her face, but I resisted. I had already awakened before the alarm. If I woke her five minutes before it went off, she would be upset. So, I just watched her until the alarm sounded. Her eyes fluttered open, a groggy look on her face. We’d grown accustomed to waking together in bed, me on my half of the mattress on top of the comforter, her on her side beneath it. The over-under policy had been instituted when a chronic kink in my neck made it impossible for me to sleep on the couch any longer.

“Good morning,” I offered, shutting the alarm off. She yawned, closing her eyes for a few moments before she responded. I saw the dark circles under her eyes and wondered if she wasn’t sleeping well.

“Yeah… shopping day. Ugh.” Willow rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. Her expression belied her distaste for the day’s itinerary. Her fake smile was so obvious I chuckled.

“That excited?” I pushed myself up on an elbow and watched her roll her eyes. She was so gorgeous first thing in the morning.

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