Perfectly Imperfect

  "I think they should know. They deserve to know," Mia speaks, and we all look at her. "If you're serious about not letting this be public knowledge, the next biggest scandal to rock Hollywood, then the only other people who should know are them. But that is my load to carry. I refuse to let you guys do that. By keeping this from your parents, it would only hurt them. By not knowing, they would miss out on knowing their grandson and he would miss out on their love. Regardless of how he came to be, it would be heartless to keep him from them."

  I give her a reassuring hug, feeling so proud that she was able to come to a decision on her own.

  "Then it's settled. No more secrets between us, but the world will never know. This is no one else's business but the Masters family," I tell the room and instantly feel like some of the heavy currents that had been filling the room dissolve around us.

  This won't be stress-free to withstand. I'm sure the coming days and months will even be painful at times, but I know without a shadow of doubt that for me, this will be the easiest hardship I could endure. I'm strong enough to handle whatever is gossiped and lied about me and my relationship with Kane. I would be able to stand tall alone, but with Kane at my side, I know there is nothing that could ever be said to tear us apart.

  I know the truth.

  We know the truth.

  And the love that wraps that truth up in a protective bond is stronger than anything that could ever attempt to knock it down.

  WE LEFT KOLE'S HOUSE NOT long after we had all agreed to Willow's plan. I know I'm not the only one who hates this, but seeing the determination she has to not only bear this load, but also to come together in order to hold Mia up when she isn't able to do it herself has me falling in love with her all over again.

  I wasn't kidding when I told her this wouldn't go away. That it will get so much worse before there is even a possibility they forget about us. This is entertainment news gold.

  I've lived this life for so long that nothing the media says fazes me anymore, but it wasn't always like that. When I was young and impressionable, the lies they would come up with about my personal life made my desire for privacy take a backseat. I fed into every rumor, lie, and truth, giving them all of me until I had nothing left. Then I realized that they would say what they wanted regardless of my denial or verification.

  They want blood, and it didn't matter who is sliced and damaged in the process. From that moment on, I never opened my mouth to give them gasoline to build a fire. Until earlier.

  But my sweet Willow has never had to deal with this.

  Until recently, she couldn't even see past the hurt a few people in her life had inflicted upon her in order to see her own beauty and worth. Their judgments, on such a small scale, had changed the way she was able to see herself. Those lies became a false reality. All because she let those judgments break her.

  I'm not stupid. I know how far she's come. She went from hiding herself from me to openly giving. She's gone from the safety of shadows and stepped into the spotlight. All of this she did by herself, but still, I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried about what will happen when the judgment and scorn are on a much larger scale.

  She's throwing herself to the wolves in order to protect my family and giving up her reputation in the process. She will, without my confirming that the baby isn't mine, be labeled as the woman who broke up Kane and Mia, even though there was never a Kane and Mia to break. They will search her past for dirt. Rip apart everything about her. From how she is dressed, to her hair and makeup, and what she eats. Worst of all, knowing this was one of her biggest mental weaknesses, I know they will take the body I love and throw some bullshit label on her. They will turn her healthy, curvy, fucking perfect body and deem her unworthy because she doesn't fit the mold that society has put on a woman.

  I fucking hate this. I hate every second of what she's suggesting. However, I also know that she's right. It kills me to admit that even knowing what will happen. But, in order to protect my nephew, his life has to start off without the backlash that will follow if the real story of his conception was out there. This isn't just some sordid story about me meeting another woman when my supposed girlfriend is pregnant with my child. That would be forgotten about. Hell, it happens all the fucking time. No, this is much worse. This wouldn't be forgotten. They could milk stories out of this for years.

  The supermodel who was cheated on.

  The brother of Kole and Kane Masters, two widely famous names in Hollywood, being a dangerous drunk who all but raped a woman.

  The 'bastard' child created in a drunken rage.

  What my nephew would have to deal with would follow him his whole life. So like it or lump it, I know what Willow is demanding is the only way to keep him safe and allow him to live a somewhat normal life.

  So yeah, this doesn't just fucking kill me because of what could potentially hurt the woman I love. It's a big part, but it's not the only working piece determined to tear me in two.

  My brother's drinking problem has become something that is a danger to those around him. He has not only shamed his marriage during this, but in my eyes, no matter what Mia says, he raped her and foolishly created a life. He had been spiraling out of control long before this--to the point that I don't even recognize him anymore. He is a monster, and in order to follow through with Willow's plan, we would be protecting him as well as the son that he demanded Mia abort when she told him the baby was his.

  "It's going to be okay," Willow whispers into the darkness, easing my mind as if she had been able to see inside my head while I fell apart beside her.

  I give Cam a glance as he drives through the empty roads toward home before dipping my head closer to where hers has been resting against my shoulder. Making sure her ears are the only ones that can hear me.

  "I know, baby," I tell her even though I hate it. The words burn as they fall from my mouth, leaving behind a taste of pure acid.

  "We'll talk when we get home, and I'll make sure you actually believe those words."

  I can't help it. Even though I feel like I might physically vomit right now, leave it to Willow to strip it down and call me out.

  By the time we pulled up to the gates, it was going on four in the morning. The once-crowded entrance to my house now only held a few stray reporters, which was typical in the early morning hours.

  On a normal day, it is never like this. A circus that holds you locked in your own home as they swarm around. Sure, you see them around, but they don't hunt you down like they did tonight. I know it has everything to do with the news hitting about my relationship with Willow. Because of my show earlier, it probably won't be dying down completely for a few days.

  They had never seen me act like that. Even when I didn't hold on to my privacy with everything I had, I still didn't confirm a relationship as I did tonight. Fuck, even with Jenn, the only other woman they had been able to confirm, I was never the one who verbalized it. I let my reps do the job for me just like with anything else big in my life; it had never really meant enough for me to put myself out there.

  Until Willow.

  And I would do it again and again if that were what she needed.

  But now that I've made some hugely publicized romantic move, they're going to think that means I'm now an open book. They'll stick around, for a few days or maybe a week, and hope that my newfound sharing will also include Mia's pregnancy.

  It's this next wave of invasiveness that I'm the most worried about.

  "Okay, Kane. Out with it. Tell me what's had you silently brooding since we left Kole's." Willow pulls off the sweater she had been wearing, and I almost swallow my tongue. Her thin strapped shirt thing the only thing under that sweater. Had I known that the breasts I love so much had been free this whole time, it might have been able to calm my nerves.

  No, I think when she moves to sit on the bed to remove her heels. There's no fucking way this sight would have been able to calm me down. Her chest sways with each movement she makes, and
I'm pretty sure I don't even remember my name anymore when she bends forward to do something with her shoe. Those full, huge tits strain against the tiny little straps and become best friends with gravity, almost slipping free.

  "Shit," I groan and feel my cock harden. The last thing I need right now is a hard-on when this conversation is so important, but she should know better than to give me a view like that. I close my eyes, drop my head back on my shoulders, and start to imagine every nasty and disgusting image that I can.

  "Are you doing that on purpose?" I accuse incredulously.

  She giggles softly under her breath, and I know she is very aware of what she's doing to my body.

  "Fuck."

  Her chest jiggles with the laughter she's trying to keep in only spiking my desire for her to immeasurable heights.

  "As much as it pains me to say this, please cover up, baby. You know how much I love your tits, and right now, the temptation is almost too much. Right now, as much as I want nothing more than to sink inside you and reassure myself that we're going to be okay, I need to be able to talk to you without distraction."

  She sits up, those tits continuing to sway in that red shirt like she's a matador taunting the hungry bull inside me. Her own arousal for what I want is written all over her face. Her eyes the darkest of brown chocolate, her pale skin pink and glowing, and her lip held between her teeth.

  "On second thought," I say and pull my own shirt off while toeing out of my shoes. I keep my eyes locked on hers as I work the button on my jeans and swiftly kick them off before standing before her completely bare. Her eyes widen, the lip falls from her teeth, and her gasps shoot around the room in a breathy echo. "Get up," I command.

  She stands instantly and together we work at removing the few things left in my way. Our chests heave and the air that is rapidly falling from our lips dances between us. Her eyes never leave mine. We stand just a touch away from each other, but I feel her surround me.

  This isn't about me wanting her body, which fuck I do. This is all need. My need to feel her warm and real against my body when just hours ago, I was terrified I would never have this again.

  My hands grab her hips, dig into the soft skin around them, and I lift her up my body. Her own hands come to my shoulder as she lifts her legs around my hips, opening herself to me completely. Her pussy settles against my waist and my hard cock settles in heaven. My eyes close and a low moan thunders in my chest when the sensation of having her warm wetness cradling me shoots a fire-like dance up my spine.

  When I feel her ankles lock behind me, one hand slowly glides up her spine until I cup her neck and pull her head into my shoulder, dropping my lips to her neck when the movement exposes the silky skin to me. I wrap my other arm tight around her waist and move to sit on the mattress.

  After settling us so that my back is resting against the headboard, not letting her move an inch from my hold, I let out a deep breath.

  This right here is everything.

  The woman I love, the one who loves me back, wrapped around me. Our hearts pound against each other's chests while we take comfort in the adoration between us. It feels so much more profound than that. When I have her, skin against skin, heart against heart, I feel like everything in my body and mind becomes complete.

  Our connection pulls tight on the invisible cords that link our souls until there is nothing left to do but become one.

  This right here is all I need to know that all is right in the world.

  "It's going to be okay," she mumbles against my neck, the words muffled.

  At this moment, I believe her. I still need to explain to her just what could happen and get her reassurances while she's right here in my arms. Nothing between us while we strip more than our clothes off, open ourselves completely, and have a conversation so raw we're going to need this physical grounding to one another.

  "Willow." I sigh and tighten my arms around her, pressing her tighter into my body. "They're going to do everything they can to keep this story front and center in everyone's eyes and mind. Trust me, I know this needs to happen, but I need you to really understand what will be coming while you selflessly throw yourself on the media's sword."

  She tries to lift her head from the hold my hand has on her neck, and I grudgingly allow her to lean up but shift the arm that had been holding her neck to her shoulders and only give her enough space to lift her head and turn to meet my eyes.

  "I understand, honey." She comforts me with a small smile. "I have no illusions about what will happen when I'm not just Kane Masters' girlfriend, but the woman who allegedly broke up what they believe was Hollywood's two top players and their love child."

  "Baby." I sigh and drop my forehead to hers, keeping our eyes locked. "They're going to do whatever they can to hurt you because you will be the villain in this scenario. Regardless that I've confirmed our love, they will see Mia as the 'woman scorned' and they won't forget. Look at Brad and Angelina. She will always be the other woman, even if in their case it was true, regardless that they're very happy now, married, and have children. It's been years. She was ripped apart and knowing that will without a doubt happen to you, it fucking unmans me, Willow. I can't protect you in this situation. They win."

  Her arms loosen from the hold she had around my neck and she shifts with the small leverage I allow until her hands cup my face and her lips are moving against mine as she speaks.

  "You're wrong. We win. Our love wins. They can say what they want. Hate me, make me the villain, and do their worst to try to rip me apart. They only win if we let them, and that will never happen. I know you're thinking of the worst here and trust me, I thought the same things, but nothing they can say about me or us would devalue our love. When I look in the mirror, I won't see the things they will most likely say about me. I'll see me, Willow Tate, the woman who isn't perfect, but she is perfect in her imperfections. They are not allowed to have that from me. I'm not weak. I no longer fear words meant to tear me down because I'm better than that. I love me for me. I love me for you. And I love you because you were the one who gave me this beautiful love, taught me how to see myself, and there is no one who could ever come between that."

  My hold on her tightens until I know it couldn't be comfortable for her, but she continues to hold my jaw, her lips just barely on mine, and our eyes refusing to break their connection until I show her that I believe her words. She gives me a wobbly smile and presses her lips against mine before tucking back against my chest.

  I can't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotion that hits when I realize just how beautiful she is right now in the naked confidence that she's showing me. Bared in every way that she could be to leave no doubts between us that we will weather whatever storm follows because what we have can't be broken. Not when I'm holding the strongest woman I know in my arms.

  With her held tight in my arms, I lean my head back. I only let go long enough to lift my hips and pull the duvet out from under us, wrapping it around our bodies and settling in. I keep her against me as the sun starts to climb high in the sky and not even then do we part. We both sleep, peacefully, with the knowledge that nothing will come between us.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  GOOD GOD, WHAT IS THAT noise?

  I move my head from the warm pillow of Kane's chest and lift my body, my muscles complaining when I move from the same position I had been in when I fell asleep.

  Kane's erection makes me jolt upright when the hardness hits me roughly against my clit. He lets out a long moan with the friction created by my movement.

  The noise that had woken me from the best sleep I've ever had powers through the silence around us and I jump again. Kane just rolls his head as an even deeper moan falls from his lips.

  All thoughts of the ringing phone are forgotten when his lids lift and his normally bright blues are simmering a light navy with the hunger his lust is building.

  "Is that yours or mine?" he asks, his voice thick with sleep and arousal.


  "Mine." I gasp when his hips move, gliding his erection through my wetness.

  He leans his head forward and gives me a wicked grin. "Then up you go. If that's who I think it is, they won't stop until they talk to you, and I want you interruption-free."

  I gulp and then regrettably climb from his lap with his hands guiding me by their firm hold on my hips. His eyes continue to burn into mine, and I doubt I'm the only one feeling empty without the physical connection we had held through our early morning rest. Just as our relationship has proved when we're together, even in sleep, just the thought of being apart isn't bearable. Our bodies crave one another just as fiercely as our hearts do.

  "The phone, baby," he reminds me with that thick, deep voice full of unspoken promises.

  "Right." I nod but don't move. My eyes roam over every exposed inch of him, making it impossible to look anywhere else.

  My phone stops its annoying ringing. I watch the ridges of Kane's abdominal muscles flex as he silently laughs. His arms move from their relaxed position next to his body and fold behind his head. I follow the movement slowly before letting my stare move to his face. He cocks a brow, in either question or some sort of silent dare. My pulse spikes, and I let my perusal of his body continue, sweeping my eyes from his to the stubble along his jaw. His dimple comes out, knowing that I'm getting drunk off him.

  His tan skin, lightly peppered with dark hairs, makes my palms itch to roam over his chest. I continue down, back over the hard angles and planes of his form, until I see the evidence of his arousal standing long and thick against his body. His long legs, thick thighs, and those big feet end my journey of his flawless masculinity.

  I step forward, ready to climb back on him, but my phone picks that moment to remind me of why I had ever left the bed--his arms--to begin with.

  "Crap." I sigh, as longing drips from my exaggerated exhale.

  I turn, reluctantly walking from the man my body craves greedily.

  I search in my purse for the offending device and grab it as another burst of noise sounds.

  I give him a silent apology when I see he was right about the caller and press accept, then speaker, before returning to the bed. I give in to my need for his touch, crawling in and tucking my body to his side. My head against his chest, arm on his abs, I sigh when I see his erection still in my line of sight around the phone.