“Baby.” I sigh and drop my forehead to hers, keeping our eyes locked. “They’re going to do whatever they can to hurt you because you will be the villain in this scenario. Regardless that I’ve confirmed our love, they will see Mia as the ‘woman scorned’ and they won’t forget. Look at Brad and Angelina. She will always be the other woman, even if in their case it was true, regardless that they’re very happy now, married, and have children. It’s been years. She was ripped apart and knowing that will without a doubt happen to you, it fucking unmans me, Willow. I can’t protect you in this situation. They win.”
Her arms loosen from the hold she had around my neck and she shifts with the small leverage I allow until her hands cup my face and her lips are moving against mine as she speaks.
“You’re wrong. We win. Our love wins. They can say what they want. Hate me, make me the villain, and do their worst to try to rip me apart. They only win if we let them, and that will never happen. I know you’re thinking of the worst here and trust me, I thought the same things, but nothing they can say about me or us would devalue our love. When I look in the mirror, I won’t see the things they will most likely say about me. I’ll see me, Willow Tate, the woman who isn’t perfect, but she is perfect in her imperfections. They are not allowed to have that from me. I’m not weak. I no longer fear words meant to tear me down because I’m better than that. I love me for me. I love me for you. And I love you because you were the one who gave me this beautiful love, taught me how to see myself, and there is no one who could ever come between that.”
My hold on her tightens until I know it couldn’t be comfortable for her, but she continues to hold my jaw, her lips just barely on mine, and our eyes refusing to break their connection until I show her that I believe her words. She gives me a wobbly smile and presses her lips against mine before tucking back against my chest.
I can’t hold back the overwhelming flood of emotion that hits when I realize just how beautiful she is right now in the naked confidence that she’s showing me. Bared in every way that she could be to leave no doubts between us that we will weather whatever storm follows because what we have can’t be broken. Not when I’m holding the strongest woman I know in my arms.
With her held tight in my arms, I lean my head back. I only let go long enough to lift my hips and pull the duvet out from under us, wrapping it around our bodies and settling in. I keep her against me as the sun starts to climb high in the sky and not even then do we part. We both sleep, peacefully, with the knowledge that nothing will come between us.
Not now.
Not ever.
GOOD GOD, WHAT IS THAT noise?
I move my head from the warm pillow of Kane’s chest and lift my body, my muscles complaining when I move from the same position I had been in when I fell asleep.
Kane’s erection makes me jolt upright when the hardness hits me roughly against my clit. He lets out a long moan with the friction created by my movement.
The noise that had woken me from the best sleep I’ve ever had powers through the silence around us and I jump again. Kane just rolls his head as an even deeper moan falls from his lips.
All thoughts of the ringing phone are forgotten when his lids lift and his normally bright blues are simmering a light navy with the hunger his lust is building.
“Is that yours or mine?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep and arousal.
“Mine.” I gasp when his hips move, gliding his erection through my wetness.
He leans his head forward and gives me a wicked grin. “Then up you go. If that’s who I think it is, they won’t stop until they talk to you, and I want you interruption-free.”
I gulp and then regrettably climb from his lap with his hands guiding me by their firm hold on my hips. His eyes continue to burn into mine, and I doubt I’m the only one feeling empty without the physical connection we had held through our early morning rest. Just as our relationship has proved when we’re together, even in sleep, just the thought of being apart isn’t bearable. Our bodies crave one another just as fiercely as our hearts do.
“The phone, baby,” he reminds me with that thick, deep voice full of unspoken promises.
“Right.” I nod but don’t move. My eyes roam over every exposed inch of him, making it impossible to look anywhere else.
My phone stops its annoying ringing. I watch the ridges of Kane’s abdominal muscles flex as he silently laughs. His arms move from their relaxed position next to his body and fold behind his head. I follow the movement slowly before letting my stare move to his face. He cocks a brow, in either question or some sort of silent dare. My pulse spikes, and I let my perusal of his body continue, sweeping my eyes from his to the stubble along his jaw. His dimple comes out, knowing that I’m getting drunk off him.
His tan skin, lightly peppered with dark hairs, makes my palms itch to roam over his chest. I continue down, back over the hard angles and planes of his form, until I see the evidence of his arousal standing long and thick against his body. His long legs, thick thighs, and those big feet end my journey of his flawless masculinity.
I step forward, ready to climb back on him, but my phone picks that moment to remind me of why I had ever left the bed—his arms—to begin with.
“Crap.” I sigh, as longing drips from my exaggerated exhale.