“And you definitely don’t need me here—you’ve got friends, your job, this cabin. You’ve gotfucking Jordy and his shitty jokes.”
“Jordy… what?” She blinked rapidly, her expression full of confusion. “Logan, you can’t just leave—nobody gets in or out until the sun comes up.”
“I’ll climb it,” I said, grabbing the pack and slinging it on my back. “I climbed out of that fucking ravine with you dying on my back and a hundred Creepers clawing for me, I’m pretty sure I can manage a damn wall.”
As I moved to leave, Willow stepped in front of me. “Stop it!” she demanded. “Whatever’s going on, we can fix it.You don’t need toleave.”
Tearing my eyes from hers, I growled. “Yeah, I do. I can’t be here with you. Not like this.”
There it was. My confession—part of it, at least—laid bare between us like a sacrificial lamb. Chancing a look, I found Willow’s face a riotous symphony of emotions—her eyes flared wide, her mouth floundering, her trembling hands twisting in the skirt of her dress. Panic rose and fell from her expression like a series of tidal waves plunging toward shore.
“You know what?” she said in a quivering whisper that grew louder and angrier with every word. “You’re right,you should leave.” Still trembling, she turned slowly away only to spin right back around, an accusatory finger pointed at my chest. “You should definitely leave!” she shrieked.
Swiping an article of clothing from the open drawer behind me, she slapped it to my chest. “Here, take your shit and fucking leave.” The clothing fell to the floor as her hands slappedmy chest a second time. “Go, Logan—leave! What are you waiting for? Get the fuck out of here—get away fromme!”
“Stop it!” I yelled, dodging her onslaught.
“Go on then, fucking go!” she continued, tears and fury flowing.
As she slapped her hands to my chest for a third time, I grabbed her wrists, hauling her up against me. Her softness crashed against my hardness. My heaving chest to her heaving breasts. My desperation breathing in perfect synchrony with hers. She lifted her chin and stared at me, the glint in her eyes holding both a challenge and a dare.
“Just go,” she whimpered feebly.
“Fuck you,” I growled, giving myself one last second to change my mind…
And then I kissed her.
My hands went to her face, into her hair, to the back of her head, my tongue delving deep inside her mouth the very instant her lips parted. Willow’s arms went to my neck, squeezing me to her, pulling herself up against me and matching each plunge of my tongue with a frantic parry of her own.
Roughly skimming the sides of her, I squeezed and kneaded her from hips to ass, grabbing each taut cheek in my hands. Her nails scoured my neck before dragging down the front of my shirt and dipping beneath it. One hand went to my back, while the other grabbed for my belt, jerking it open.
We tumbled backward, tripping over the fallen pack on the floor, my back crashing into the same dresser I’d been tearing apart only moments ago. Grunting in pain, I swung Willow around, lifting her up onto the rickety structure, our mouths and bodies never breaking contact.
Her fingers were in my hair, her legs wound around me. My hands were up the skirt of her dress, ripping her underwear down her legs. We broke apart only for a moment; Willow’s eyes were hooded, her lips wet and swollen, parting farther with each panting breath. Yanking my shirt off over my head, I seized her face, my fingertips digging into her cheeks, taking her mouth with mine once again. We kissed faster, harder, our mouths crashing together in sharp, hungry bursts.
“Logan!” Impatient, she rocked herself against me in a desperate, erratic rhythm. Hard to the point of pain, I cursed as I grappled with the zipper on my jeans, shoving them down my legs and shaking them away. My hands returned to her thighs,bunching the liquid material of her dress up around her waist. Gripping her hips, I yanked her to the edge of the dresser.
We locked eyes.
Everything… slowed… down.
Poised at her entrance, wet and ready for me, I pushed slowly inside of her, groaning as her body squeezed mine. Gasping, Willow pitched her hips forward, taking me the rest of the way in. Her fingertips found purchase beneath my shoulder blades; mine dug deep into the fleshy part of her thighs. Her heels bore down into the back of my ass while my feet fought to keep from slipping across the floor.
Everything sped back up again.
The dresser slammed into the wall with each furious thrust, only to teeter forward as Willow swung her hips toward mine. Tearing my mouth from hers, I dropped my face to her neck, biting down. She moaned even as she cried out; her hands found my hair again, clutching fistfuls, and twisting painfully.
I increased my speed, Willow’s frenzied whimpers spurring me on. Fabric tore, something crashed to the floor, the dresser continued to brutally strike the wall. My muscles tensed, my orgasm building too soon, leaving me struggling to keep pace. Heaving growls erupted from low in my throat. Once… twice more, I thrust inside her and then I was shoving her away and pulling free from her body. Gripping the edge of the dresser, I groaned through my release.
Breathing hard, I looked up to find Willow with her cheek pressed to the wall and her mouth hanging open, red lipstick smeared across her face. A light sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and chest. Her dress straps were broken and hanging, the top half of her dress sagging below one perfect teardrop breast. With every ragged intake of air, her chest noticeably rose, forcing the slinky material to slip even lower. Her skirt remained gathered at her waist, her legs were still splayed apart, quivering ever so slightly.
Fucking hell—if I hadn’t just finished fucking her, one look at her like this would have had me ready to go.
“Are you… okay?” I asked, hoarsely.
Willow rolled her head along the wall toward me, her eyes glassy.
“Hey,” I said, placing my hand on her thigh. “You okay?”
