He moves closer, and his chest touches mine. "I meant what I said, Willow. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not ever letting anything come between us again."
My heart races faster, and I take a deep breath.
He cups my face, stroking his thumb over my lips. "I'm going to need your cooperation."
"My cooperation?"
He nods. "Yeah."
"For what?" I raise my eyebrows.
He leans down and kisses behind my ear.
I shiver.
He murmurs in a low growl, each word a hot brand on my neck, "To help me with this." His mouth trails from my earlobe down to the sensitive spot where my pulse hammers in my neck.
I gasp. My hands fly to his shoulders, my nails digging into his hard muscles.
He walks me backward until I'm pressed against the wall, his thigh sliding between mine, parting them. His hips grind against me, slow and deliberate. His erection pushes into me, making my pussy ache.
His lips brush mine, his breath fanning over my mouth. He adds, "I'm going to spend my life trying to make up for every second we wasted." He kisses my jaw.
I whimper.
He pulls back just enough to keep me wanting, then drops his hands to my hips, squeezing possessively as he drags me closer. His voice turns darker, edged with a roughness that weakens my knees. "I guess I need to remind you again who this body belongs to."
A knocking sound slams into the silence. The door bursts open. Jagger storms in, eyes wild. "Why are you still on the ranch?" he bellows.
"Jagger, stop!" I demand.
Wyatt straightens, shifting between me and my brother like he's ready to take a bullet for me. "I'm not leaving. Not unless Willow's coming with me."
"Dad told you to go," he snarls.
"Jagger, enough! He's staying!" I shout.
His gaze darts to me. "You've got to be kidding me!"
I lift my chin. "I'm not!"
Jagger points at me. "Go home, Willow."
"Don't tell me what to do," I snap back.
"Houston and I have some unfinished business, don't we?" he seethes.
"Jagger, go away!" I order.
"No. He's right. Take my truck to the house. I'll call you later," Wyatt says calmly, locking eyes with me.
"What?"
"Go on."
"Why? So you two can kill each other?" I ask in horror.
"He dug his own grave," Jagger mutters.
