WMIS 03 Play With Me (25 page)

“Good,”
Natalie grins. “It’s going to be a lot of fun.”

Steven
stands, holding his beer in the air. “I want to propose a toast. To my family,
which has grown by leaps and bounds this past year. I am a blessed man, to be
surrounded by good men, beautiful women, and the most amazing babies ever
born.”

“To
family!” Luke’s dad agrees, and everyone drinks, and then breaks off into
conversation again.

As
we’re finishing dessert, the sky opens up. I knew I smelled rain earlier. We
are, thankfully, under a covered patio, and most of the food has been cleared away.
The four brothers work together to cover the now-cool grill, and we take the
babies inside out of the humidity. For the rest of the afternoon, a football
game plays on the television and adults play card games with the twins. The
babies are fed, rocked, changed and fussed over.

Luke,
Stacy and Brynna’s parents all leave.

Will
and I are lounging at one end of a large leather sectional couch, watching
football, my head in his lap. I yawn and feel my eyelids droop.

“Hey,
lazy bones, are you ready to go home?”

“When
you are. I’m in no hurry.”

He
smiles gently down at me, his eyes soft. “I love you,” he mouths.

I
grin up at him, happily, and run my hand down his smooth cheek. “You’re so
handsome.”

He
grabs my hand and kisses my palm. “Let’s get out of here.”

He
helps me out of the couch and we say our goodbyes, which takes another half
hour. Will’s mom, Gail, hugs me close.

“Please,
come back soon, Meg. We enjoyed you.”

“Thank
you,” I murmur shyly.

“She’ll
be back,” Will comments as he kisses his mom on the cheek.

I
tilt my head back as we step outside and enjoy the rain. It’s dark now, and the
rain is heavy, but not cold. It’s that warm, late summer rain that feels like
tap water.

“I
love the rain this time of year.”

“Great.
Get in the car, babe.”

I
laugh over at him. “You don’t like the rain?”

“It’s
fine, but you’ll get sick if you don’t get out of it.”

“No
I won’t, that’s a myth.” I wave him off and stand in the rain for a minute
longer, then join him in his car.

“Are
you always this stubborn?” he asks.

“How
long have we been seeing each other?” I ask.

“A
while. More than a month.” He responds and pulls away from his parents’ house.

“Then
you should know by now that I’m always this stubborn.” I grin sweetly as he
chuckles.

“So,
about those texts you sent me…” He turns hot blue eyes on me and offers me a
half smile.

“Yes?”

“Gonna
make good on them?”

“I
don’t know your mood seems to have improved without me needing to resort to
oral sex.” I feel my phone vibe in my pocket and I pull it out as I laugh at
Will’s scowl.

Tell
your bf thx for the $250k.

“Pull
over.”

“What?”

“Pull
the fuck over.”

Chapter Nineteen

“What’s
wrong?” His voice is panicked but I can’t look at him. I have to get out of
this car.

Now.

“Just
pull over, Will.”

“Are
you sick?”

“Yes!
Pull over!”

We’re
in a remote part of Seattle, mostly deserted, and dark. The sky has opened up
even more, pouring rain as if someone has turned on a faucet.

He
skids to a stop at the side of the road, and before he even puts it in park, I
barrel out of the car, slam the door and start walking, fast, in the
headlights.

“Meg!”
he calls from behind me. “Megan, stop!”

“Leave
me alone, Will.”

“What
the fuck has gotten in to you?” I hear him gaining on me, his feet shuffling in
the gravel on the side of the road, so I twirl and confront him.

“How
dare you?”

He
stops in his tracks, his eyes wide with fear and worry and holds his hands up
like he’s being robbed.

“What?”

“I
told you not to give her any money.”

“Fuck.”
He hangs his head and props his hands on his hips, both of us ignoring the rain
falling in sheets around us. “Meg…”

I
spin on my heel and start to stomp away from him again, but he grabs my arm and
spins me back to him. “You’re not walking home.”

“Fuck
off, Will.”

“Megan,
stop this.” He takes both of my shoulders in his hands and holds me in front of
him, and all I can do is glare at him, panting. My anger is palpable.

“I
told you, Will. You saw how it was last week. Why in the hell would you do
this? She’ll just keep coming back for more. She would have gone away if you
would have just left it alone.” I can’t stand the break in my voice as I feel
the tears mix with the rain on my face.

“She
never would have gone away, sweetheart.” His voice is calm now, but firm. I
shake my head back and forth and bury my face in my hands.

“I
don’t need you to clean up my life!” I step back out of his grasp and look up
into his face illuminated by his headlights, water running down the sides, his
hair soaked and plastered to his head. “I can handle this myself.”

“Megan,
that woman is toxic. She drains you, financially and emotionally. You don’t
need her.”

“I
know that! You think I don’t know that?” I throw my hands in the air and march
in a frustrated circle.

“I’m
trying to help you.”

I
stop, my back to him, and shake my head, hands on my hips. “I asked you not to
help me like this.”

“Look
at me.”

I
stay where I am.

“Look
at me, Megan.”

“Will,
you betrayed me.”

“I
did not fucking betray you!” He yells, and I whirl to look at him. His eyes are
feral now, and his hands are in fists at his sides, every muscle taut with
anger and frustration. “I paid off a woman who hates you for existing so she’ll
never bother you again. She signed a contract, Megan. She can never ask you for
another dime.”

“What?”

“Let
me finish. That woman is the reason you can’t tell me you love me. That.
Fucking. Woman.” He shakes his head in frustration and turns away from me, then
turns back. “If I have the opportunity to remove her from you, why wouldn’t I
do it? The money is nothing to me. She is the reason you have trust issues. She
is the reason it’s so hard for you to show people you love them.”

“What
are you now, a shrink?” I ask with a smirk, and then hate myself for it when I
see the hurt in his eyes.

“I
know you,” he murmurs quietly. His chest is heaving. “I love you, Megan.”

I
love you too.

I
can’t make the words come out.

“I
love you, Megan.” The words are stronger now, louder, and he’s willing me to
say them back.

I
turn and start to blindly walk again, my steps quick, away from him, from his
car, from all these fucked up feelings that I just don’t know how to trust.

Suddenly
I’m in his arms, and he’s carrying me back to the car. He sets me down, ass on
the hood and pins me, his hands on the hood at my hips, his face level with
mine, nose millimeters from brushing the tip of mine, his eyes on fire. He’s
glaring at me with love and hurt.

“I.
Love. You. Megan.”

“Will.”
It’s a sob. I take his face in my hands and brush his cheeks with my thumbs.
“Will.”

“I
love you,” he whispers, his lips so close to touching mine I can feel them
move. I close my eyes and feel the tears on my face. I can feel the hot tears
on his face, running into my hands, mixing with the warm rain.

I’m
hurting him. And it’s killing me.

“You
can’t say it.” It’s not a question.

“I
can show you,” I whisper.

He
closes his eyes for a heartbeat, tips his forehead down to mine, and then
suddenly grips my hips and pulls me to the side of the hood of the car and
peels my sopping wet jeans roughly over my hips and down my legs, throwing them
on the ground in a wet heap. My eyes are wide and on his, mouth gaping open.

“Someone
could drive by.”

“I
don’t give a fuck,” he growls and sinks to his knees, pushing my thighs apart
and burying his face in my core. He licks and kisses and sucks on my lips, my
clit, pushes my metal against my nub, making me plant my feet on his shoulders,
grip his soaked hair in my hands and lift my hips off the car, coming apart at
the seams, crying out, not caring who can see or hear us.

He
stands and shoves two fingers inside me roughly, pushing and pulling them
quickly, teasing my clit with his thumb, and he’s kissing me in the same way,
with frustration and anger and I grip onto his shoulders, holding on for dear
life.

“Will.”

“You
are mine, damn it. I will protect you from anyone and anything, do you
understand?” His eyes are narrowed, on mine. “I don’t need your permission to
make you safe.”

Before
I can answer, he’s kissing me again, and pushing me over into another orgasm.

He’s
claiming me, branding me in a way he never has before.

It’s
fucking hot as hell, and I want him. I want to be his. I love him more than I
ever thought possible, and that scares the living hell out of me.

He
pushes the hem of my jersey up under my armpits, dragging my bra along with it,
unveiling my breasts and feasts on them, pulling and biting the nipples
roughly. I let my head fall back and cry out in pain and pleasure, loving his
mouth and hands as they assault me.

He’s
never been this rough.

Suddenly,
he unzips his pants and unleashes his massive erection and I instinctively
scoot even closer to the edge of the car, needing him inside me.

“I
can’t wait,” he mutters against my mouth and slams himself inside me, hard. He
grips my hips and jerks me down on him, over and over, fucking me with all he
has, his eyes still pinned to mine.

“You
are so beautiful. You are everything, Megan. When are you going to believe
that?” He moves faster and harder until I feel him explode inside me, his
muscles tensing, and growling deep into my neck.

He
stays here, on me, in me, panting, for what feels like forever, before he
slides out of me, and steps back. “Stay here.”

He
zips himself up, straightens my shirt, and scoops my pants up off the ground,
walking briskly to the back of the car. He rummages around in the trunk and
walks back to me, a blanket in his hands. “Scoot off the car.”

I
obey immediately, and he wraps me in the blanket, plants a soft, sweet kiss on
my forehead, and suddenly the tears start again.

I
love him so much.

“Don’t
cry.” He lifts me in his arms and carries me over to the passenger side, and
gently lowers me down into the low seat.

Instead
of taking me back to my place, he drives us to his house, pulls into the
garage, and lifts me back out of the car, carries me inside, and up the stairs
through his bedroom and into the bathroom. He sets me carefully on the toilet
and turns on the hot water, then kneels in front of me, takes my face gently in
his hands and wipes the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs.

“Did
I hurt you?” he whispers.

I
shake my head no and bite my lip, looking into his soft blue eyes. He’s tender
now, the anger gone out of him.

“I’m
sorry,” I whisper.

“For
what, honey?”

I
shrug and look down but he tips my chin up to look at him. “For what?”

“For
hurting you. I don’t want to do that. You mean the world to me, Will.”

He
sighs deeply, relief written all over his face, and kisses me softly, then sits
back on his heels and smiles softly. “I know.”

I
nod, still feeling shitty.

I
want to give him the words. So much.

He
strips me out of the blanket and the remaining wet clothes, and does the same
with his own, takes me by the hand, and leads me into the hot shower. The
shower heads are still adjusted for me.

He
takes his time washing me, lathering up my body and my hair, and then rinsing
me thoroughly, before doing the same for himself.

“I
love your body,” he murmurs with a smile as he leads me out of the shower and
begins to dry me with a large, warm towel.

“Back
at you, football star,” I remark and offer him a half smile. He blows my hair
dry, and leads me to bed. “It’s a bit early for bed, isn’t it?” I ask dryly.