Me: Sorry, peaches. Wish I could do something to make things better for you.
Peaches: Me too. Is the invitation to come back to your place still open?
Me: Fuck yeah. Want you here even if that means you have to work. Like having you around, Willow. Like it a whole hell of a lot.
I pull down my sweats, step out of the gray fabric, and am greeted with my cock standing straight the hell up. Where I’ve been tempted to take care of business before, I’m not now.
Peaches: Oh, I’ll have to work. It shouldn’t take me all day though. I’ll be there in about an hour.
Me: I’ll be here. See you soon, peaches, real soon.
Peaches: Yeah, you will. Also, I’m cooking dinner tonight, so be prepared.
Me: Lookin’ forward to it.
Once that’s settled, I head into the shower, and while my cock might want me to wrap my hand around it, there’s no goddamn way that will happen. Not when the woman who tastes and smells like peaches will be back in my arms sooner rather than later.
10
Willow
The tears I’ve been holding back finally let lose, it’s a combination of everything hitting me all at once. My grandmother is being well taken care of, better than I could have ever imagined. It still doesn’t make it any easier when I see her in such a fragile state. And for a moment, I thought she remembered me, only to call me by my mother’s name. I went along with it while dying inside. Then things went from bad to worse. She flung her tray at the wall when she couldn’t coherently verbalize what she wanted. Brenda saw the situation unfold, started to diffuse it while I went and found her baby doll. She calmed down shortly after I placed it in her arms. Brenda, along with the other staff, didn’t have to say a word. I gave them a quick nod and slid away, saying a silentI love youto my grandmother.
Jace’s text came at the right time. I needed a little bit of good, and working at my house or at the office wouldn’t bring that. Nope, I’d think of everything under the sun that I needed to fix, the numbers blurring in front of me, and screwing up isn’t what an Ashford would do. The office has been full of interruptions, which is part of the reason I’m behind as it is. Plus, my father will no doubt be there, watching everyone with a scrutinous eye, me specifically.
A short car ride later, I stopped by my house, checked the mail, watered my outside plants on my porch, and then did similar with my inside babies as well. After a quick switcharoo with my clothes, transferring the dirty ones into the correct hamper that has two dividers, one for darks, and one for lights, I moved to my closet. When I’m with Jace, I can wear clothes that are made for comfort, my favorite kind. I packed a couple of pairs of panties, two bras, a pair of socks, jeans, a cute shirt, and then my usual jogger-style sweats and tank top. I threw in a pair of sneakers just in case and then scoured my closet for something brunch friendly for Sunday. It took some time before I landed on a dress that is fashionable enough to please my mother and expensive enough to make my father happy. I grabbed the deep purple with flower print knee-length dress along with a pair of nude high heels, keeping that on the hanger while I stuffed the rest into my bag.
Then I grabbed my other bag with all of my work. It’d be easier to finish this work in my home office with the dual screens, but I’d rather be in the comfort of Jace’s presence even if I’m inside while he works on his boat. By the time I had everything gathered, it looked like I was moving into Jace’s house, on a permanent level. Well, minus my plants, flowers, and valuable items I’ve received from my grandmother before she moved into the memory care center.
Now, I’m on the road leading to Jace’s house, tears steadily streaming down my cheeks, and I know I need to dry my eyes. Except that’s easier said than done. I take a deep breath and hold it for five seconds before letting it out. I repeat this process a few times, an exercise I learned in therapy. Of course, I didn’t see one until I’d moved out of my parents’ house. Neither of them would ever willingly admit the effect they had on me growing up. Truth be told, I could probably do with another refresher after Sunday’s brunch.
The moment Jace’s driveway comes into view, the tightness in my body loosens its hold on me, and while it may only be Friday and I may have overpacked and may overstay my welcome, that’s a bridge I’ll cross when I come to it. I didn’t see the need of traveling between both houses or, furthermore, being seen by my father or his assistants to be questioned to death.
I pull in next to his truck, put my car inPark,and exit the vehicle. I never did ask him what’s in the garage. Obviously, his truck is too big to park inside it. The oversized tires and slight lift make it abnormally tall. The reason for it is to pull his boat, or at least it was before he purchased his house and now has a dock at his disposal. The truck isn’t brand new, isn’t even sparkling, but like Jace said, there’s no reason to buy anything else. Still, it makes me wonder what he has in his garage. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was another toy of some sort.
A smile tugs at my lips as I grab my bags, one on my shoulder, the other two in my hand. I lug myself and them to the front door, juggling it all to twist the handle and step inside. The view to the backyard makes me plop the bags near the front entrance and walk through the house.
I’m more grateful than ever that I had the forethought to change once again, this time into a pair of jean shorts, a tank top, and a pair of flip flops. My hair is in a ponytail, and my sunglasses are dangling from the small dip of my shirt.
My breathing intensifies, my pulse races, and my thighs instantly press together to relieve the ache Jace unknowingly has built inside of me. I step out onto the back deck, my eyes scorching a path down his nearly naked form. Okay, fine, he’s not completely naked, but he’s lacking a shirt, and his shorts are hanging low on his hips. The sun is gleaming off his muscled form, making my mouth water.
“Hey, peaches.” He looks up from whatever he’s doing, hands slightly greasy, and sends an easy smile my way. Jace is more than aware of the troubles I have going on, and while he handles me with care, he also doesn’t press the subject, for which I’m more than thankful for. Sometimes, talking about your problems is healthy and can be cathartic, but this isn’t one of those times.
“Jace.” His gaze blazes a path down my body. I see the way his body responds, the slight pull of his chest going taut, and maybe I’m imagining it, maybe I’m not, but I’m pretty sure his cock flexes beneath his black swim trunks.
“Want nothing more than to wrap you in my arms, peaches. I’m filthy, though. Don’t want to mar all this beauty,” he says, striding toward me with a purpose.
“Maybe I want you to dirty me up, handsome.” I barely get the words out before he’s on me, hand fisting my ponytail, wrapping it around his fist, tilting my head up as his mouth lands on mine. Jace McKay devours me, his tongue paying homage to mine, assaulting my senses in every way possible. I’m caught off guard at first, though I shouldn’t because Jace always takes care of me. The past twenty-four hours have proven that tenfold.
“There’s no maybe about it, Willow. The only question I have is, how far do you want this to go?” He pulls back from our heated kiss. It’s a hell of a hello and one I want for as long as humanly possible.
“First, I want you in my hands and mouth.” His mouth is back on mine the moment I get the words out. I moan into his mouth, enjoying the way he dominates our kiss. It’s hot and I’m becoming increasingly turned on. Then he adds lifting me and walking to the mix. Each step he takes has my core sliding up and down the hard length of his cock. The seam of my shorts presses on my clit. His hand slips beneath the fabric, palming myass, the tips of his fingers sweeping along my skin and making me all the hotter.
“You want me, peaches, I’m yours for the taking.” He walks us through the house, my leaving the door open when I went outside is doing us a lot of favors. He closes the sliding door behind us, and my back meets the wall.
“Jace.” He keeps his hand locked in my hair, and I slowly lower my legs.
“What do you want, Willow?” My hands press against his chest, pushing him back in order to have some room to work.
