This
time, there’s no holding back.
I
can feel the urgency, the raw need in his kisses, and I want to give
it all to him. Whatever demons I’ve been fighting, Will has had
his own battle too, and now I need to show him that I’m his
now. Whatever some other girl made him question, however the past
made him feel, it’s different now.
I
belong to him.
We
stumble into the living room, Will stripping my shirt over my head
and yanking my bra down. His mouth closes over my breast, hot and
sinfully sweet, and I moan aloud, sinking against his wicked touch.
He teases and nips at my nipple, sending a shock of pleasure all the
way to my twisting, aching core.
God,
yes.
I
grab his belt and quickly shove his jeans down, wanting to touch him,
take a taste of the raw, hard length of him, but too soon, Will spins
me around and pushes me face-down over the arm of his couch. I gasp,
thrilled, and thrust back my hips against him, grinding against his
cock. Will lets out a growl, then he’s shoving up my skirt and
tearing my panties aside, landing a sweet, stinging slap against my
bare ass.
Oh.
His
hands slide around me, roving between my thighs to stroke
possessively at the molten heart of me. It’s hot and frantic,
and I moan into the couch cushions, pressing into his fingers,
needing more. Then Will parts my legs wider, and I feel him nudge
against me, one hand yanking my hips back, controlling, the other
tangled in my hair.
He
slams inside me in a single, devastating stroke.
God,
the feel of him: so thick, so deep. He withdraws, then thrusts again,
a pounding, punishing rhythm, but oh, how it sets my body on fire. I
arch back, grinding to find him with every stroke, clutching at the
cushions and whimpering in total surrender. Every plunge is a tidal
wave of pleasure building; every hard thrust drives me closer to that
crest. Will tugs at my hair, arching my body back up to meet him, and
then he’s grinding up inside me, god, so deep I have to scream
his name.
“Fuck,
Dee.” His gasp is ragged, an animal groan in my ear. He fucks
me wildly, and I can’t get enough. Nobody’s ever done it
like this before, nobody’s ever made me come undone the way I
feel when he’s inside me. Thrusting. Demanding. Every inch, so
deep. Already I can feel my orgasm start to shiver through me. I try
to hold it back, I want to savor ever touch, every hard, commanding
thrust, but Will has total control of my body and it’s all I
can do to take him, gasping, over and over as the shiver builds to a
crescendo and then I shatter with a rush of pleasure so pure, so epic
that I come apart with a cry. Will’s arms are around me,
holding me down, his body slamming hard and then I feel him come; his
animal groan mingling with my cries of pleasure until the last ebbs
of ecstasy drift away and we both tumble, sweaty, to the floor.
I
cling to him, my pulse galloping so fast it matches the pace of his
heartbeat, wild in his chest.
“Damn,
you’re going to kill me if we keep this up.” Will’s
voice is laughing and sleepy.
I
grin. “Get used to it, baby. I’m just getting started.”
I twist around to kiss him, damp and sweaty and pretty damn
satisfied.
This
is the beginning, I realize, my heart unfurling in my chest. This is
the beginning of love.
The
next Friday, I finish up work early at the office and we drive into
Charlotte with Will’s truck loaded with his best pieces of
furniture. He’s been working late into the night all week, and
I can tell he’s nervous; he’s uncharacteristically quiet
on the road, distracted and deep in thought.
“Your
friend is going to love those chairs,” I say, breaking the
silence. Will looks over, and I give him a reassuring smile. “They’re
so beautiful, I just want to sink into the leather and never get
out.”
“Maybe
you should take the meeting, not me.”
“You’ll
be great,” I insist. “Besides, it’s just one place.
There are tons of showrooms all over the country, designers, dealers,
all kinds of places to approach if this doesn’t work out.”
Will
frowns. “You think it won’t work out?”
“No!”
I reach over to take his hand. I bring it to my lips and drop a light
kiss on his knuckles. “I’m saying, whatever happens, your
work is beautiful. You should be proud of everything you’ve
made.”
Will
exhales, relaxing. He squeezes my hand, and gives a rueful look. “I
am. I’m just nervous, I guess. It’s a big change, and I
think a part of me is still wondering who I’m kidding.”
“Well,
I love them, so sign me up,” I declare. “And either way,
it’ll be fun to see your buddy again, right? I can’t wait
to hear all the stories about what you were like, all buttoned up in
New York.”
Will’s
smile slips, but before I can reassure him again, my phone buzzes.
“Ooh, it’s Eva!” I bounce in my seat, excited. “She
gets in later today, it’s going to be so much fun,” I
say, typing out a quick text. “We’re having a girls’
night in, and then brunch tomorrow, just like we always do. I’ve
missed her!”
“That’s
great. Do I get to meet this mysterious best friend?” Will
asks, teasing. “Or are you girls going to be painting your
nails and having pillow fights all weekend?”
I
snort with laughter. “Um, you’ve been watching too much
porn if you think that’s all we do. More like plotting world
domination and eating carbs.”
“I
stand corrected.” He grins.
“And
yes, I’d love you to meet her,” I add, feeling shy.
“Consider it a standing invitation. When I’m hanging out
with Lottie and Sawyer, too.”
“Then count me in.”
We
drive on, and I feel that glow, still so warm in my chest. I’ve
never had someone I wanted to introduce to the people in my
life—never dated anyone long enough for it to even be a
possibility. But I love the thought of spending time with everyone
together. It’s great how he’s fit so seamlessly into life
in Oak Harbor, but I have to admit, I’m excited to meet his
friend, Declan, too. Will showed up out of nowhere, and hasn’t
said much about the life he left behind. I’m curious about his
past, so hopefully Declan will have plenty of stories to tell about
Will’s history—especially after a couple of cold beers.
We
arrive around three, in plenty of time. Declan’s showroom is in
the arts district, on a great street lined with cool design stores
and boutiques.
“This
is it.” Will peers out the window, looking nervous again. “I
should probably go around back. There’ll be a delivery entrance
for me to unload.”
I
kiss him on the cheek. “You can let me out here, I want to go
sneak a look. See you inside?”
Will
nods and lets me out before driving on. I push open the front doors
and take a look around. Inside, it’s a massive converted
warehouse space, with all the original steel beams and exposed brick,
the perfect backdrop for the amazing furniture pieces set up around
the floor. It’s more like an art gallery than a store, and I
get excited just looking around at the funky lighting and hip,
streamlined samples on display. Will’s pieces would fit in
perfectly here, with their rustic, masculine look. I know from
selling houses how much is about selling a lifestyle, that vision of
your future world, and anyone walking in here would want the whole
package: a cool loft downtown, with Will’s chair set up by the
record player, or his table set up for a dinner party or big event
with friends.
“Are
you looking for anything in particular?”
I
turn. A guy with sandy brown hair and a friendly expression is
juggling an armful of paperwork. He looks exactly like this space:
casual and thrown together, but with the tailored details that give
away an eye for design. “If you give me just a minute, I can
help you out,” he adds. “Let me guess . . . new
apartment, you’re looking for something sleek and modern?”
“Good
call,” I laugh. “But no, I’m just here with a
friend. Boyfriend,” I correct myself, the word unfamiliar on my
lips.
Unfamiliar,
but nice.
“Are
you Declan?” I ask, looking around.
He
smiles. “The one and only.”
“Great!
I’m here with Will,” I explain. “He’s just
unloading around back. I’m Delilah.”
Declan’s
face brightens. “Great to meet you.” He reaches out to
shake my hand. “I can’t wait to see. He showed me some of
his pieces, years ago. I always said he should make a go of it, but
he was already climbing that Wall Street ladder. He insisted it was
just a hobby.”
“I
can’t believe he worked in finance,” I laugh, shaking my
head. “The guy looks like he was born in jeans, with a hunk of
wood in his hand.”
Declan
arches an eyebrow. “I guess he wasn’t kidding. The guy I
knew had a car service on speed dial and would drop five hundred
dollars on sushi without blinking an eye.”
A
door opens in the back of the room, and Will enters. He sees us
talking, and strides over fast. “Hey, man.” He greets
Declan with a hug, and the old friends slap each other on the back.
“What did I miss?” Will asks, looking back and forth
between us.
“Don’t
worry.” I rest my hand on his shoulder, “I’ve just
been hearing about your big city life.” Will tenses under my
hand. “It’s a shame there’s no good sushi in Oak
Harbor,” I add, teasing. “You’ll have to make do
with a good shrimp boil.”
Will
gives a strangled laugh. “Oh yeah. My local takeout place has
probably posted a missing person report by now.”
Declan
laughs. “Hey, I’m glad you made the break. I keep telling
all the guys, what’s a six-figure bonus worth when you’re
working eighty hours a week? I was afraid you’d drop dead of a
heart attack before you turn forty.”
“Not
anymore.” Will gives a small smile. “Now the only thing
that gets me up in the morning is the sound of the crickets.”
“I
should put you in a tourist campaign,” I suggest, teasing.
“Start a relocation program for burned-out city execs.”
“Don’t
even joke,” Declan says, making a face. “Every time I
call to catch up, everyone’s working around the clock on a
massive deadline, or scared layoffs are looming, or sleeping at the
office. This guy’s got the right idea, leaving it all behind.”
I
gaze happily at Will. “Yes, he does.”
“So,
where’s this famous furniture?” Declan asks, putting his
papers down. “I’m working with a couple of new designers,
staging sets for some movies they’ve got shooting near Atlanta
and I’d love some new things to show.”
He and Will start towards the
back, just as my phone rings. I check. “It’s Ash
Callahan,” I tell him, my heart leaping. “You guys go
ahead.”
“Good
luck,” Will tells me.
“You
too,” I whisper back.
I
take a deep breath and answer. “Delilah Morgan, real estate
solutions,” I say, trying to sound professional. I’ve
been researching all week, and everything I’ve learned about
the guy tells me that this could be a big deal. A really big deal.
“Hi
Delilah, sorry I haven’t been in touch before,” Ash’s
voice comes. “Are you still good to get together and go over
these Ocean Drive plans?”
“Absolutely,
whenever suits.”
“Let’s
say next week then. I’ll email over the specs, I’d love
to hear what you propose. Like I said, we’re looking for the
local touch. We’ve had some of the bigger firms pitch already,
but to tell the truth, I haven’t been impressed. I’m
looking forward to hearing your take.”
“Yup.
Great. See you then!”
I
hang up, and grip my phone. No pressure or anything. But this is when
I always pull it together, I remind myself firmly. Whether it’s
cramming for a mid-term on two hours’ sleep, or pulling off the
deal of a lifetime—something special happens when my back’s
against the wall. And this is no different.
I
think of Marcie, sunning herself on a boat somewhere. She has no idea
the lengths I’m going to in order to prove myself to her right
now, but in just a few weeks she’ll come back happy and
tanned—and ready to sell.
Sail on, Marcie. Sail right
on.
I
make a few more calls to chase some outstanding offers, then head
through to the back delivery dock, where Declan and Will are talking.
I don’t want to interrupt anything, this is Will’s big
thing, but I’m dying with curiosity at how it’s going.
When I see the smile on his face, talking animatedly about one of the
chairs, I feel a huge wave of relief.
“Hey.”
He looks up and sees me, and beckons me over. “Declan’s
going to take everything.”
“And
whatever else you can get me,” Declan adds, looking admiringly
at the pieces. “I already have a couple of designers in mind,
they’re going to flip. Don’t let him out of his
workshop,” he says to me, mock-stern. “I want him working
around the clock.”
I
laugh, sliding an arm around Will’s waist. “What happened
to escaping the rat race and taking things easy?” I tease.
Declan
snorts. “That was before I had my commission all lined up.”
“Yeah,
yeah.” Will rolls his eyes, but I can tell he’s happy.
“I’ll see what I can do. Another couple sets of the
chairs, and two more tables?”
“Or
how about one more set, and you just charge double?” I add
sweetly.
They
both laugh. “I like her,” Declan says approvingly.
Will
squeezes me close. “Best business woman I know,” he says,
and kisses my forehead.
“So,
are we drinking to celebrate?” I ask. “I want to hear all
about Will’s embarrassing past,” I tell Declan. “Drunk
escapades, crazy ex-girlfriends, the works.”
I
feel Will tense again, then Declan sighs. “Sorry, I just had an
appointment come up, I won’t be able to get away, after all.”