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I make an amazing fucking boyfriend. I let that thought settle in. I’m on the right track. After making Willow French Toast for breakfast, I draw us a bath while she cleans the kitchen.
“Hey,” she calls out, framed in the bathroom door. “You exceeded my expectations. Breakfast was delicious.”
The wolf in me rises at the sight of how Willow’s still so fucking innocent. She’s fidgeting with her fingers, covering her hot mound. I stop the water, pulling her into my arms.
“You’re so warm,” she moans.
I trail hot kisses over her neck and run my tongue down the length of it. Drawing in a ragged breath, I pull away from Willow. I could fuck her on sight every time we cross paths. I step into the bathtub, guiding her before me in the steaming water.
“This is relaxing.” Willow’s head drops back onto the crook of my neck.
I grab the bar of soap, lathering my palm. With gentle finesse, I run the flat of my hand over around the bend of her tit.
Willow writhes against me. Her hands slide over my muscular forearms. All of a sudden, her fingers stall. She turns my right arm over in her lap, pressing her thumb over the inside of my elbow.
“Hey,” her voice goes tiny, “I thought I examined all your tattoos. What happened here?”
Beneath the faded snake tattoos are scars. I tell Willow and remind her it was my left arm she critiqued the night in her bed.
“But what happened? Knife fight?” She twists around, lips corked in a smile. “The other guy got stabbed?”
My lips hardly move. “Nah. Dead.”
There’s a slight twinge in Willow’s muscles. She’s frightened by the answers to her own questions. Taking a tentative bite of her bottom lip, Willow asks, “Were you playing, um, hero for another girl?”
I remember everything about the day my brother was taken from the park. Even the inside of the car because it hauled me half a block. My arm was pinned inside of the closed door. My fingers were numb for the longest. The entire time Jamie was missing, seven whole days, I felt his hand clutching mine. He was begging me to help him.
“No, Willow.”
“Oh.” She tenses while I’m a ton of bricks beneath her. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, Cam. Even though I’m not given the same courtesy.”
I toss a cold-blooded, “And?”
“And? Camdyn, you literally had to add your perspective to my life after our run. And you have a say in my life. And you have the audacity to hate the word no when exiting any other mouth but your own.”
“Ye wee arseholes from Clan MacKenzie are gonna die.” The man had said. He’d been sitting inside of the castle on the playground at the tallest slide. Mom’s eyes were on Lachlan and Rory in the toddler area while Jake sucked at her tit.
Time moves backward. A hundred fucking moments converge in my mind at once.
“Keep an eye on your, bràthair.” Mom told me about ten minutes prior, wagging her finger, giving the usual reminder about the public restroom. She pressed a hard kiss to Jamie’s forehead and then mine too. “Ye are such a good big bràthair, Camdyn.”
Willow stiffens at my chest. “Sorry I asked, Cam. You said no drama here, so I’ll shut my mouth . . . I just want to be there for you the way you’re there for me.”
My hand, which was caressing Willow’s center, locks in place around her throat. A vicious, unrelenting craving possesses me. Water splashes over the sides of the tub as she attempts to turn to look at me. I haul her legs apart and force her to squat over my cock.
A violence I thought was contained when I first had Willow swirls inside of me. My dick impales her, driving to my balls in a single thrust.
A hard scream slams from Willow’s throat. “Cam—”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” I growl into her ear.
Hot tears glaze Willow’s eyes as she moans. Her pussy twitches around me, and her muscles ease. Looking back with frightened eyes, she expects mercy now, begging, “Cam, please. I love this. But I want you to go slow.”
Reaching for the column of her neck, I run my palm softly down the silky length. The only threat between us laces into my tone. “You have a single word at your disposal, Willow.”
