Page 125 of Sweet Distraction

That’s a huge admission I’ve been dancing around with tricks like saying I’m falling for him. Well, I’m way past falling.

I shut the door gently and slide in beside him.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs as he pulls me against him so that my head is on his chest. I trace the lines of his tattoos, much like Poppy does, as his chest rises and falls.

We lie there for a few minutes, the darkness wrapping around us, before his voice breaks the silence. “I’m terrified of the hearing.”

“I know you are, but I think it’ll be fine.”

“I have a past. It’s not horrible, but it’s been public. Wild years. Exaggerated headlines. Bad decisions.”

“We all deserve a little grace for the things we did when we were younger.”

“I hope that’s true. But what if it’s not enough? What if I lose her, Willow? What if—”

I press my fingers to his lips. “Shh. We’re not thinking things like that.”

“But—”

I kiss him to stop the words. To stop the negative thoughts. It’s a slow, tantalizing kiss, as I try to anchor him to this moment. To me. To everything he’s become instead of everything he’s afraid he used to be.

And he lets me own this moment. He allows me to direct us to a place where sensation and feeling rule. And when my hand trails over his chest, down his stomach, and dips beneath his waistband, he handcuffs my wrist.

“No.” He growls low in his throat and flips me gently onto my back. “You took care of me on tour . . . and now I’m going to show you how good it feels to be taken care of in return.”

His mouth trails down my stomach lighting a fire in its wake and burning his touch into my memory before positioning himself between my thighs.

He looks up at me in the dim light as he leans down and kisses me through my panties. His breath is a whisper against my skin. I arch reflexively into his mouth as my nerves sing, and my body aches.

I’m aware of the ache at my core, and of the tremble in my thighs as he slides his tongue along the edge of my underwear. The tip of his tongue teases, taunts, and tempts.

Our eyes meet through the dim light, and there’s a darkness in his gaze that’s equal parts hunger and adoration. A look that owns me in unexpected ways.

Almost as if he’s confused which one should take center stage. Almost as if he’s never had to choose before.

I reach down and thread my fingers through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp as he presses his mouth hard against me, lips parting, tongue insistent and slow through the fabric. I grip his shoulders, helpless, dizzy against the sheets, and desperate for more.

He pulls my panties aside and glides a finger inside, featherlight. My body answers him instantly, greedy and wanting. Hungry and insatiable. He takes his time, hot breaths, featherlight touches, and murmured praise.

When he finally puts his mouth on me, I arch. I want to call his name, but can’t form the sound. For a moment, the world telescopes to just this. To just us. To his warm tongue and the searing-hot pleasure. His rhythm is careful. Patient. Methodical. Skilled.

The orgasm is a slow build. The crest of a wave that pushes me up then pulls me under with an intensity I revel in.

“Come on, Wills. There you go,” he murmurs, his lips against my belly as he lets me ride out my high.

And I do, but my thought as I come down is how he deserves to feel the same. How I want to return the favor.

He protests when I push him off me. When I press his shoulders to the bed and lick my lips in anticipation.

“Turnabout is fair play, right?” I say suggestively. He sucks in a breath as I trail my finger down his chest right to where his cock bobs in his pants.

“By all means.” He chuckles then groans as I waste no time taking him in my mouth.

And I don’t mess around. The very first bob of my head takes him all the way to the back of my throat until it can’t go any farther.

“Fucking hell, Wills,” he groans out, his hand going straight to the back of my head and fisting in my hair there.

It urges me on, the way my name sounds in his gritty voice. The way it feels to know I’m bringing him as much pleasure as he did me.