“I thought I had to choose. I thought I could have one or the other. My career or love. I was happy with my decision, I knew I was one in a million and that I should be grateful and I was—I swear, I was,” she says that last part quickly, as if she’s afraid that I’ll accuse her of not appreciating what she has, but she forgets that I’ve watched her career over the last eight years, watched it grow, watched her work her ass off, watched her do everything she could to make sure her fans were always put first, even if it meant meet and greets and extra tour dates that pulled her past her physical capabilities. I’ve watched her sacrifice so many things, such as her own comfort and her own happiness, to make this career happen. If there’s anyone on this earth who knows that Willa Stone deserves the fame, that she’searnedit, it’s me.
“But I felt it in my soul. That deep gnawing, a hollow loneliness, I tried to ignore. Sometimes, late at night, I’d lie in my bed alone and wonder if I had chosen wrong.” Her tongue comes out to lick her lips, but she never breaks eye contact with me. “If I should have given it all up, settled down, found someone I liked well enough, and gone in a different direction. And when I did, I felt a different pain, knowing that if I did, I couldn’t have what I already had: performing and making music and sharing it with the world. I told myself I could have only one of the others. And I was okay with it, until recently.” She licks her lips, looking at me, eyes glimmering as her lips tip up in a small smile. “Until recently, when I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could have both.” My heart breaks and heals all at once, and I lift my hand, putting it to her cheek and tipping it up before pressing my lips to hers, unable to express myself with words, but hoping that my touch could say it all for me.
That I’m promising to do everything in my power to make sure that Willa Stone gets to have it all, forever.
TWENTY-FIVE
LEO
“Can we sit outside for a bit?” Willa asks as we walk up the front porch steps of my house later that night. After letting Willa pet the animals to her heart's content, we washed up and ate at the restaurant on the property, the two of us the only ones there. I surprised Willa by moving her to a bonfire near the edge of the property and making s’mores. We laughed, ate, and kissed until it was time for us to leave. Her voice is soft, and I turn to her, putting a hand to her chin and tipping it toward me. Staring down into her warm brown eyes, I speak words that hold so much honestly, they ache.
“Whatever you want, Willa.” Her lips tip up a bit, and I bend, pressing mine to hers in a soft, sweet press before breaking apart and resting my forehead to hers. “I’m gonna get a beer—want anything?”
“Can I have a glass of that peach wine?” she asks with a little smile, speaking of one of the many goodies we bought at the farm, most of which are in an oversized bag in my hand. I nod, then gesture towards the swing we put together the other day.
“Go sit, I’ll get it for you.” She eagerly settles on the swing, kicking off her sneakers and tucking her feet beneath her. Shelooks perfect on the porch she helped me repaint and decorate, sitting on the swing she insisted I needed. I am once again reminded she is meant to be here.
With me.
Moving through the house quickly, I grab a beer and pour her a glass of wine before stepping outside and handing it to her. She takes it before I sit, then lifts her legs and drapes them over my lap. When she settles into my side, that same, familiar feeling of peace moves through me, and I realize I could do this every single night, sit out here with Willa and just…be.
“Thank you,” she murmurs a little while later. “For today. It was…it was perfect.”
“There’s no need. Thank you for coming with me. I hope it was a good first date.”
“A lot of firsts today,” she says, pressing her lips into the side of my neck. “Getting ready for a date with my girls. Peach picking, going to a petting zoo. S’mores.” I smile, remembering all of those and the joy on her face with each moment.
“I want to give you all of the firsts I can, Willa. You tell me what you want, and I’m going to make it happen.” I hope she realizes just how much I mean it, how I really would give her anything, so long as it made her happy.
“We could have another first, you know,” she murmurs, her voice low, somehow changed. When I look down at her, she’s already looking up at me, mischief written across her features. She reaches down, setting her wine glass to the floor before grabbing my beer and doing the same.
“Oh?” I ask with a raised eyebrow, but instead of responding, she moves, rearranging her body until she’s straddling my lap, her dress pooling around her hips. Between her closeness and the mischievous tilt of her lips, my cock goes hard. “Willa—” I start, but I don’t know where the warning is headed. There’s no way I would stop whatever direction she wants to take this.
“I’ve never…you know…outside,” she says, her voice a low murmur as those perfect white teeth bite into her lower lip.
“I sure as fuck hope not,” I reply, and with a mind of their own, my hands move to rest on her knees before sliding up and down her soft skin. Her breathing hitches as I repeat the movement, stroking casually from her knees up her thighs. Each time, my thumbs go just a bit higher on her inner thigh.
I love this most of all, teasing her. Constantly teasing her.
“We could…” she starts, her words trailing off as a flush spreads across her skin.
“We could what?”
Her tongue dips out, wetting her lips, and this time, my thumbs move up, grazing along her panties. I bite back a groan when I find they’re already damp.
“We could... You know... out here. On the swing.” My eyes drift shut at the mere idea, at this sweet woman before me, asking me to once again give her everything and knowing damn well I can’t say no.
I can never say no to Willa.
“We could what?”
“You know,” she murmurs, hips shifting.
“We could...kiss?” I guess, knowing it’s the wrong answer, but pressing my lips to hers all the same in a heated touch. My tongue slides along hers, her hands moving to behind my neck. When I break the kiss, we’re both breathing heavily, her hips continuing to shift to try to get something from me.
“More than that,” she breaths. My cock twitches at the need in her voice, and on their next circuit of my hands on her thighs, I graze more intentionally over her center.
“Or I could finger you out here, right on this swing.” I drop my head to press kisses to her neck, and she tips it to give me more room to taste her skin.
