She blinked. "You don't?—"
"I haven't thought about kids in years, Willa. I stopped thinking about the future in 2020." I held her gaze. "And then you showed up in that hunting blind and I started thinking about it again." I shook my head. "Not because of kids. Because of you."
She was very still.
"You, and the dog, and the burnt eggs," I said. "That's what I want."
Her chin wobbled once. She got it under control fast.
"That's it?" she said.
"That's everything," I said.
She pressed her face into my throat and I held her in the cooling water…felt her breathe. And it felt strange to enjoy the sensation of someone breathing against me, when I’d been buried so long.
We had a lot to deal with. A lot to learn about each other…a lot to unwind and take on.
But I would stick around.
I would stick around as long as she wanted me, kids or not.
THIRTEEN
Willa
Forrest got at least one item checked off my to-do list right away.
Sleep still fogged my eyes…muddled my mind. I was too cozy, too warm, too happy where I was, curled up in Forrest’s bed as morning light crept through the curtains.
I felt him get up; felt the bed move as he rose, then came back a few minutes later. Tried to snuggle up to him…but he was at the foot of the bed now, crawling under the blankets, spreading my?—
I let out a breathy sigh.
His tongue was on me.
I let my head fall back with a moan, staying in that dreamy, half-asleep place, letting myself enjoy it without forcing myself to pay more attention. It made the sensation nebulous and somehow more specific, pleasure concentrated in that one place.
His voice was muffled under the blanket; his big hands on my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful…so fucking beautiful…”
My hips started to move all on their own, rocking up toward him over and over, chasing the sensation. My fingers gripped the blanket and I woke up just a little more, wanting to be here and wanting to stay on the cloud.
He hummed against me and I gasped, my back arching off the mattress. I was still half-asleep and it didn’t matter. My body knew exactly what it wanted and it was this—Forrest Holt, his mouth between my legs, his hands holding my hips. The orgasm was building fast, rising, rising…getting close to the tipping point where the whole world narrowed to his tongue, his lips, the barest hint of teeth.
I cried out and that was the thing that finally woke me—my eyes flying open to stare at the unfinished timber ceiling, my hips rocking into Forrest’s mouth. He worked me through it, but he didn’t let up, rising just enough that he could watch me when he plunged two fingers into my pussy.
“Morning,” he said, voice still rough from sleep. His fingers were pumping into me, his thumb on my clit.
I wassosensitive…couldn’t speak. I let out this garbled string of syllables instead, and Forrest laughed.
“Got you that good, huh?” he asked, teasing. His brown eyes were warm in the morning light, everything around us molten. “Want me to stop?”
I shook my head, gripping the sheets.
He fingered me harder.
Again.Again, I was coming again. I rocked myself into his touch, taking him deeper on my own momentum, clenching around him. He added another finger, giving me everything, and I keened.
