“So you don’t want me, then. I get it.” He rises to his feet, glancing around the restaurant like he wants to destroy the entire place. His jaw is tight, his eyes narrowed. He looks intimidating.
A little mean.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” I start, but he cuts me off with just a look.
“Don’t try and make me feel better, Katie,” he says bitterly. “I ruined it. This. Us. I should’ve never lied. Not that you’d have been with me if you knew the truth anyway. And now I’ve gone and fucked it all up.”
The waitress appears with the check and he pulls out his wallet, handing a credit card along with the bill back to her. The minute she’s gone he starts in again. The lack of sake is forgotten—thank goodness.
“I don’t have a lot of regrets in my life. I can’t, or else I’d believe it was all just one big regretful moment after the other, you know? But I do regret not telling you. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.” He turns away from me, blowing out a harsh breath. “I’m sorry. I can say it a thousand times, but I know it won’t change anything.”
It changes everything. I want to say something else, something more, but what? My lips part and I reach for him, my hands catching on his shirt, clinging to him. He looks down at my hands, then slowly lifts his head, our gazes meeting.
“Say we have another chance. Please.” He starts to laugh, shaking his head. “I’m going to sound like my father right now, but I need your forgiveness. I need it. I don’t think I can live without it.”
I tug on his shirt, hard. He can’t talk like that, like . . . what? He can’t live without me? I need to shake some sense into his head. “You can survive just fine without me,” I murmur, not wanting anyone else to hear us. Not that anyone is paying us any attention in this crowded restaurant. “You’ve done it for years.”
He laughs again, the sound almost painful. “It was a miserable existence, Katie. Katherine.” His expression turns somber and he touches me. Drifts his fingers over my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear, touching my cheek. “I should probably call you Katherine. That’s what everyone else calls you.”
“I like it when you call me Katie.” I like it when he touches me, too. Despite everything, I feel comfortable with him. And I feel comfortable with hardly anyone. “What do you want me to call you?”
He frowns, his fingers pausing on my cheek. “What do you want to call me? Major asshole?”
I start to laugh despite our serious conversation. I can’t believe he just said that. He cracks a smile, too. “No. I just . . . with everything that happened earlier, I got sort of confused. I called you Will and I wouldn’t mind if I could keep calling you that.”
His hand drops from my face and he leans in close. “Is that what you want to call me?”
“Would you be offended?”
“Sort of. I don’t know. I need to get used to this.” He slowly shakes his head, blows out a harsh breath. “For you, I’ll be whoever you need. Whatever you want, Katie.”
Whatever I want. Those words are loaded with so much promise. I know he would give me whatever I wanted. If I were a mean girl, I’d take total advantage. Demand he get down on his knees and beg for my forgiveness, make him humiliate himself in order to earn my approval. He’d deserve no less. What he did to me was . . . horrible.
But his intention was never to hurt me. I realize that now. So why deny myself what I want when he could make me happy? Would I rather live a miserable existence all alone and missing him?
“Do you mean that?” I ask.
His eyes seem to glow as he watches me. “I will never lie to you again. I mean every word I say.”
“Then take me back to the hotel,” I murmur. Feeling emboldened, I rest my hand on his knee, that electric connection we have coming to life, sparking between us.
The moment the waitress returns with his credit card, he’s grabbing my hand and practically dragging me out of the restaurant, muttering quick apologies to the people we bump into as we exit. The sidewalk has cleared and we walk hurriedly toward the hotel. I’m thankful I wore my sneakers instead of heels. His stride is long as it eats up the sidewalk and I have to walk twice as fast to keep up with him.
No words are spoken, but the urgency between us is palpable. Undeniable. We enter the hotel side by side, the hushed quiet of the lobby making me feel obvious, like I’m wearing a sign around my neck that says, Hey! We’re running to our hotel room to get naked.
I school my expression, going for cool and collected, while inside my stomach is on a tumultuous roller-coaster ride, climbing high and dipping low again and again. My hand is clutched tightly in his as he leads us to the bank of elevators, hitting the up button, and the doors behind us automatically open as if waiting for us.
The moment we enter the car, he hits the ninth-floor button and the doors slide shut. His arms are around me, his mouth hovering above mine. “Is this what you wanted?” he murmurs just before he kisses me.
His mouth on mine is exactly what I want. What I’ve craved for days. Weeks. I clutch him close, my arms sneaking around his neck, my fingers playing with the soft hair at his nape. He presses me against the elevator wall, a low groan sounding from deep in his chest when I part my lips and meet his tongue with my own.
The doors sweep open silently, a soft ding indicating we’re on our floor. He releases me as fast as he grabbed me, taking my hand and leading me toward my hotel room. “Is your room okay?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder to look at me.
I nod, unable to speak. My lips tingle from that too brief kiss. My entire body tingles. I want this, but I’m also apprehensive. I’m still not wholly comfortable with sex. Our first experience together was good, but I struggled to relax.
I still struggle.
We stop at my door and I pull the card key from my purse, inserting it into the slot. He stands just behind me, one hand at my waist, the other pushing my hair away from my neck so he can place his mouth there, at that sensitive little spot just behind my ear. He breathes me in, his lips parted, his teeth grazing my skin, and I shiver, pushing open the door so the two of us practically fall into the room.
The door shuts behind us and then we become a frenzy of hands and arms and legs and stumbling feet, our mouths finding each other, parting when he removes his flannel shirt, finding each other again only to separate when he tugs my cardigan from my arms. Clothes fall to the floor, shoes are kicked off, the only sounds our heavy breaths and connected mouths. I hear a clattering sound and I know he just tore off his glasses and set them . . . somewhere.
God, they could be anywhere. I’m so overcome and he is, too, both of us reaching for each other, hands sliding beneath clothes and warming cool skin. The room is dark though the curtains are still wide open, the buildings standing tall just beyond the thick glass like mighty spheres of light. They cast a soft glow within the room that renders us into nothing but shifting shadows that meld together, only to come apart.
And then drift together again.
His arms are around me, his mouth fused with mine, his hands slipping beneath the hem of my T-shirt. His fingers are hot as they brush against my skin, along my sides, igniting a restless heat that starts low in my belly. It’s all happening so fast I can hardly catch my breath, can hardly think, but maybe that’s a good thing. My body is running on pure, basic need and it’s a wildly exhilarating ride.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers into my neck, his warm, damp lips moving against my skin and making me shiver. “Whatever you need, I want to give it to you.”
I pull away from him so I can see his face, his eyes glittering in the dim light, his chest rising and falling, brushing against mine. I’m filled with the need to tear off my shirt and tear off his so we can be skin to skin. Heart to heart. “All I want is you. The real you.”
“It’s yours. I’m yours.” He brushes the hair away from my face, his fingers drifting across my skin, his gaze hot as it roves over me. “I’ve missed y
ou like this.”
I suddenly feel shy, which is ridiculous because he’s seen me naked. Vulnerable. At my worst times and my best. He’s seen me in every way possible, he knows me better than anyone else, and I realize in this single, heart-stopping moment that he is the only person in this entire world who understands me, who knows me inside out.
And I can’t deny it any longer.
I’m in love with him.
She whispers my name again and again as I kiss her. I don’t even notice at first exactly what she’s saying. I just keep my lips on hers as much as possible, my tongue sweeping inside her mouth, my hands wandering everywhere I can reach. I’m consumed with her, consuming her, and when I end the kiss to let her catch her breath, my forehead pressed to hers, I realize exactly what she’s saying.
Will.
I don’t correct her because I’m just running with it. It’s a little uncomfortable, her insistence that she call me Will. And truly, she’s the only one who makes it okay to be Will Monroe. But it’s not who I am. Not anymore. My father has been a source of shame for so many years, the minute I could shed the name like a snake sheds its skin I went for it. Doing it legally turned into such a giant pain in the ass that I almost gave up, but it had been worth the time and money. So I could rid myself of William Aaron Monroe once and for all.
Yet here I am, allowing Katie to call me Will again. Reveling in it, really, because once upon a time, many years ago, there was a girl held captive and I was the boy who saved her. And though everyone cast their suspicions upon me, I prevailed because the girl never deviated from her belief in me.
She still hasn’t. The suspicions are constantly flung at me. The enemy is the one who’s now being held captive, yet his evil manages to permeate our lives.
I’m fucking sick of it.
Tonight, in this anonymous hotel room in this anonymous city, Katie and I need to purge ourselves of the memories and the pain and the bullshit once and for all.
Without a word I guide her toward the bed, walking her backward until her legs bump against the mattress. Kissing her softly on the lips, I gently push her shoulders and she falls onto the center of the bed, her mouth rounded in a shocked O. I tear off my T-shirt and let it drop to the floor. Unbuckle my belt and pull it through the loops on my jeans, dropping it on top of the T-shirt, the buckle clanking against the floor.
Laying myself bare for her.
Katie watches me, her eyes seeming to rove everywhere, all over me. She doesn’t stop me from undressing, her eyes wide and full of curiosity. It’s easy to forget that she’s never been with anyone else, at least not in an intimate way.
I think of who else she’s been with and I avert my head, clenching my jaw. It makes me sick to my stomach, what happened to her when she was only a child. If I could change anything, I would change that. What she suffered was . . . too much. That she’s so strong and survived it, overcame it, leaves me in awe. Now it’s up to me to take care of her. Remind her again how it can be between two people who care for each other.
If I had the chance, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would kill him. Tear him apart with my bare hands, all the while making sure he knew exactly who was squeezing the very last breath out of him. I’d not only kill him for her, but I’d do it for me. For the young boy that I once was, for all the chances he tried to steal away from me. For the mere fact that he tried to mold me into himself yet it didn’t work.
For that alone, I win.
I fucking win.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to look at her again, see the uncertainty on her face, and I want to ease it away with my words. My promise.
My vow to her.
“I tried to deny how I felt about you,” I say, undoing my jeans and pushing them off my hips so they fall around my feet, leaving me in just my boxer briefs, and I kick them off. “I’ve denied it for years. From the moment we met, you touched me. I just didn’t realize it then because I was young and stupid. Lost and ruined. And so fucking angry that he put me in that position. I didn’t want to be anyone’s hero.”
She blinks up at me, her lips parting as if she wants to say something, and I shake my head, needing to get this out all at once.
“That first interview—seeing you, all grown up, so damn beautiful—made me realize I wasn’t over you. I’d never gotten over you and I was curious. I had to find you. When I did, I told myself, ‘I’ll talk to her just once. I’ll make sure she’s safe.’ But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t resist you.” I kick my jeans out of the way, kneel down to tear off my socks, and then I crawl onto the bed, until I’m right in front of her, on my hands and knees.
Fitting.
Her arms go back, her hands braced on the bed as she leans away from me, and I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t mess this up. It feels like this is my last chance.
“I’m in love with you, Katie. Not just because we share a connection from our past, but because I think you’re an amazing, thoughtful, giving woman. And I want to be a better man for you. I want to earn back your trust, I want to ensure your safety, but more than anything, I want you in my life. I need you.” I pause, unable to read her expression. She doesn’t look like she’s upset, but hell, I don’t know. I’ve never told a woman that I love her before.
I’ve never told anyone that I loved them before. I’m not one hundred percent sure if I even know what love is. But whatever I feel for Katie has to be the closest thing to it.
“You’re in love with me.”
I nod, fear strangling my insides and making me unable to speak.
She rears up on her knees and pulls her T-shirt off, tossing it over the side of the bed. “If you can bare your body and soul to me, then I should be able to do the same for you.”
My heart is pounding as she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, the cups, simple white satin trimmed with lace, loosening around her chest. I get up on my knees and practically lunge for her, stopping her from pulling the bra off because I want that privilege.
“Let me undress you,” I whisper, smoothing my fingers along her bra straps, touching the soft skin just beneath. She shivers, goosebumps chasing after my touch, and I gently tug the straps down her arms until they fall at her elbows. She shrugs out of the bra and remains before me, her breasts on display, those pretty pink nipples hard and tempting.
I cup her breasts and she closes her eyes, tilting her head back. I play with her nipples with my thumbs, moving closer to her until my mouth is on hers once more and I’m devouring her.
She moans into my mouth and I’m overcome. Overcome with love and lust and need. I ease her back onto the bed, my mouth never leaving hers, fingers fumbling with the snap and zipper of her jeans. I spread the denim as wide as I can get it and touch her there, caressing the sensitive skin of her lower belly, tracing my fingers along the edge of her panties.
I wanted to take it slow. Kiss her all over her body, drive her wild until I have her begging for me. But my plan is completely waylaid by the feel of her skin, the sounds she makes, the taste of her mouth and tongue. My cock strains against my boxer briefs as I move down her body, raining her skin with hot, desperate presses of my mouth. I don’t linger, I’m moving on pure, primal need, and I tear her jeans down her legs until they’re stuck around her ankles and she’s kicking them the rest of the way off, giggling against my lips and making me chuckle, too.
That we can laugh during sex is . . . huge. Major progress for the both of us. I was never one to linger. I treated sex almost like a job, eager to get my satisfaction and then move on.
Not with Katie. I may not be lingering this time around, but that’s only because I’m so anxious to be inside her again, I feel close to blowing in my damn shorts.
“Will.” She rests her hands on my head and I glance up, my gaze meeting hers, then sweeping over the length of her naked body. I study her like this, laid out before me as I lie on my elbows in between her spread legs, clad in a pair of tiny white panties and nothing else.
Meaning, she’s trying to kill me.
“Yeah?” I practically croak but damn, I’m overwhelmed at having her this close, this naked, and having to actually conduct a conversation.
“I love you, too,” she whispers, her eyes glowing in the near-darkness. “I just wanted you to know that.”
I move back up so I’m lying on top of her, her legs between mine, my cock nestled close. We’re face-to-face, chest to chest, and I can feel her heart racing.
Mine is, too.
I curl my arm around the top of her head, my fingers playing in her hair, and she closes her eyes, her lips parting on a soft sigh. “This isn’t impossible, is it?”
She opens her eyes, frowning a little. Getting that crease between her eyebrows like she does when she’s confused. “What isn’t impossible?”
“Us.” I nuzzle her cheek, inhaling her scent. I don’t think I could ever get tired of smelling her. “We can make this work, can’t we?”
“All we can do is try,” she whispers, her arms slowly going around me as she holds me close. Her hands drift across my shoulders, her nails lightly scratching my skin, and I shift lower, resting my head in the crook of her neck. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“Nothing’s ever easy for us,” I murmur, pressing my mouth against her skin.
“That’s true.” She pauses in her scratching. “My mom is mad at me.”
“Your sister hates me.”
“So does Lisa Swanson,” she adds.
“That bitch can suck it,” I mutter, making her giggle. The sound warms my soul, fills me with so much happiness I could burst. Here I am nestled up close with the woman I love and suffering from a serious case of blue balls, but I don’t care.
Talking with Katie, sharing with her, laughing with her . . . is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?
Or will I somehow fuck this up, too?
I scratch Will’s back, touch his soft hair, skim my fingers down his arm, tracing the line of his biceps. He’s lean but muscular, heavy but keeping most of his weight from sinking me into the mattress, and he’s so warm. His skin is practically on fire, and I can feel his erection pressing urgently against the front of his underwear.