The test was heavy in Willow’s hand as she stepped into the living room. Her insides roiled.
Blake was on the couch. His face was so clear, she had no idea what he was feeling or thinking. But then, he’d been like that most of the day.
How he was able to hide his emotions so well, she had no idea. It was probably better that way, though, wasn’t it? If she knew he was anxious, it would definitely make her more anxious.
He patted the spot beside him on the couch. “Come here, honey.”
She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped walking. Giving herself a small shake, she closed the distance between them, lowering beside him. He immediately shuffled closer, arm going around her shoulders.
Swallowing, she looked up at him. “I can’t look at it.”
His arm tightened around her. “How long will it take?”
“Maybe another minute.”
One small nod. “Whatever it says, whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together. It’ll all be okay.”
She tried for a smile, but she was too nervous to muster it.
Blake opened his mouth, but then he frowned, gaze shooting across the room to the hall. Suddenly, the test slipped from her fingers, disappearing behind a cushion. A second later, Mila walked into the room.
Willow jumped to her feet and moved over to her daughter. She lifted her into her arms. “Baby, what are you doing up?”
Mila scrubbed her hands over her eyes. “I’m scared.”
Willow’s heart gave a thud.
“What are you scared of?” she asked, even though she already knew. She felt Blake at her back, hand smoothing along her spine.
“That man I saw today. Do you think he’ll be back?”
Willow’s heart broke.
“He’s not coming near you, Mila.” Blake’s voice was hard, edged with a darkness Mila probably wouldn’t recognize for what it was. Willow did.
Mila leaned her head on Willow’s shoulder, curling into her body. “Can you both come sleep with me?”
She pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Of course, darling.” She carried Mila to the bedroom, tucking her beneath the blanket before crawling between her daughter and the wall. Blake lay on Mila’s other side.
Immediately, Mila closed her eyes, snuggling into the blankets. “I like it when you’re both here.” Mila’s voice was a whisper into the pillow.
Willow looked up at Blake. The teddy bear nightlight cast a red haze over his face, the glow and the shadows making him appear even more dangerous than usual.
He reached behind the pillow, grabbing her hand. Immediately, she laced her fingers through his. Touching him was like holding his strength in her hand, feeling it pulse up her arm.
How many times had Willow lain in bed, waiting for her daughter to fall asleep, wishing Blake was right there with them? Not just over the last three years, but even before that. There’d been so many nights she’d sat beside the crib, sleep-deprived. Empty. Lonely.
She felt none of that now.
Blake’s gaze heated. And there was something else. An unspoken promise. That he would continue to be there. Watching out for his family. Present both physically and emotionally.
The anxiety that had been eating away at her all day suddenly fizzled, and in its place, a calm. A whisper that she would be okay. A gentle reassurance that even if the stick turned pink, Blake would be there, more present than last time.
A small smile touched her lips, the first one in a while that wasn’t forced. Slowly, she leaned her head back into the pillow, eyes shuttering, allowing the comfort that her family gave her to relax the muscles that had been tense for so long.
She didn’t know how long her eyes had been shut, but when Blake’s hand tightened, her eyes snapped open. She realized Mila’s breaths had evened out. Their daughter was asleep.
It was time to look at the test.
Shuffling down the bed, she took Blake’s hand again as they reentered the living room. Willow stopped. “Can you look first and tell me?”
He moved forward without hesitation and lifted the test from behind the cushion. He scanned the screen, and again, nothing changed on his face. The man was completely unreadable.
When he looked up, he studied her carefully. “Not pregnant.”
A small frown marred her brows. She stepped forward, taking the test and looking at the screen. He was right. Not pregnant.
Blake’s arms wrapped around her waist. “We can test again tomorrow.”
She gave a small nod. She was never late. She’d been so certain that it meant she was pregnant. Was it possible the chloroform had messed with her hormones? Could it do that?
She peered up again, wishing the man would show her some sort of emotion. “How do you feel about a negative?”
“If you’re not pregnant, then we’re not meant to have a baby right now.”
She gave a small tilt of her head. “Right now?”
There was a short pause. It was heavy. Thoughtful. “I would like to have another baby. But only if and when you’re ready. And if that day never comes, that’s okay too. Because I already have you and Mila, which makes me the luckiest guy around.”
Willow ran her hand over his shoulder, smoothing the material of his shirt. She’d never even considered having another. Not after how tough it was with Mila. But she loved Mila so much that her chest ached. And just now, in the bedroom, she’d felt a level of peace in whatever this outcome would be.
She quieted her voice. “I think, maybe, there might be a time I’ll feel ready to have another. I’m slowly learning to trust that things won’t be the same as they were before.”
His hands went to her cheeks. “I guarantee you they won’t be the same. I won’t let them. I’ll protect your mind as strongly and fiercely as I protect your body.”
That final little barrier around her heart, the one she hadn’t been aware still existed, crashed down. He had all of her.
“I love you,” she whispered.
He pressed his head to hers. “I love you so much it physically hurts.”
Leaning up, Willow kissed him. And in that kiss, she tried to give him everything. Every little part of herself that he already owned.
Immediately, she was lifted from her feet. Her eyes remained shuttered, but she felt him moving, a door closing behind them. Then he held her against the door, her core pressing against his hard stomach.
The kiss was primal, and it was hungry, causing tiny flickers of heat to ignite deep in her belly.
Willow curled her fingers against his shoulder, digging them into his skin as deep moans attempted to escape her lips. He swallowed all of them, his tongue swirling in her mouth, dueling with hers.
The way the man kissed her was everything. It was her comfort. Her salvation. Her refuge.
Warm hands brushed across her lower stomach seconds before her shirt was torn over her head.
Then his lips were grazing down her neck and her chest. He sucked a nipple through the bra and her back arched, a whimper escaping her lips.
A second later, the bra fell, and his tongue slid over her tip, thrumming it.
A shudder slithered up her spin, the heat in her abdomen spidering through her system. The man played with and licked her nipple for endless minutes, knowing exactly what tormented her most.
When he switched to the other, his tongue swirled that peak in exactly the same way. Sucking and nipping.
“Blake, please.”
His mouth remained for another second. Then he stepped to the side, lowering her gently on top of the low dresser.
His finger slid into the waistband of her jeans and underwear. She didn’t even need to be told to lift her hips, they did of their own accord, the need for there to be no barriers between them too strong.
Two muscled hands wrapped around her thighs, tugging her right to the edge of the dresser. He bent, head hovering over her. For a moment, her breath caught, the ache between her legs throbbing in anticipation.
Then his lips closed around her clit and he sucked, using his tongue in the most intimate, drive-her-crazy kind of way.
Willow’s teeth sank into her bottom lip to silence the cry. Blood soared between her ears as the most intense pressure built in her core.
Every swipe of his tongue, every vibration from his lips, pushed her closer to the edge. The small thread that was her sanity was moments from snapping.
Her breaths became choppy, back arching.
Then suddenly, she felt Blake’s finger at her entrance. Her body jolted, but he held her firmly with his other hand around her thigh.
Slowly, he entered her, the warm invasion a gentle torture. His mouth continued to swipe and play as his finger slid in and out.
“Blake…” She writhed and ground her hips, the flames in her body so close to catching and lighting up the entire room.
Suddenly, he crooked his finger, pushing against a place inside her that he knew drove her crazy. That’s when the thread broke. Her muscles bunched, the orgasm ripping through her with an intensity that exploded through her entire body.
She opened her mouth, but suddenly, Blake was there again, mouth taking hers, silencing her cry.
Blake straightened. Willow’s beautiful breasts rose and fell, pressing against his chest with each deep breath. His hands went to his shirt, then his jeans, removing every scrap of clothing while only briefly losing her lips.
She was fucking magnificent. Every inch of her.
Taking hold of her hips, he was about to lift her and carry her to the bed when she grabbed his wrists, halting him. “I want you here. Like this.”
It was like gas on a fire. Blood roared so loudly between his ears that it was deafening.
Reaching across, he opened the top drawer for a condom. With the pregnancy scare, it felt best. And she didn’t question him. In fact, just as he was about to cover himself, Willow took it from his fingers.
Slowly, so slowly it almost killed him, she slid the latex over his length. Her fingers applied more pressure than they needed to. And she grazed and played with his hardness as she went.
The thing had barely made it all the way on when he was tearing her hands off him, growling deep in his throat. Then he was there, right between her heated thighs.
The woman robbed him of his sanity. Of every scrap of self-restraint and patience he had.
“Forever,” he said quietly, lowering his temple to touch hers. “You and me, we’re forever.”
He’d known she belonged to him since the first day they’d met. And that knowledge had never waned. Never shaken. Not even on their darkest days had he questioned whether they should be together.
“Forever,” she whispered.
He sank deep inside her, reveling in the soft sigh that fell from her lips and bathing in it. It was the same for him. An ache that would never subside.
He didn’t move right away. Instead he paused, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to her neck. Feeling that deep connection to the woman he loved, and thanking God that they’d found their way back to each other.
His lips trailed up, taking hers, tongue pressing between her lips. Slowly, he rocked his hips back, then thrust forward. He swallowed her quiet moan.
Then he did it again. And again.
Every thrust annihilated him. Every touch burned.
Her hands wrapped around his neck, threading through his hair. Immediately, he lifted her, stepping to the side and pressing her back against the door.
He pushed deeper. Thrust harder. Faster.
It wasn’t enough. None of it was. Lowering his head, he latched on to her throat, sucking and licking, never slowing his pace.
Her hands lowered to his chest, scratching down his skin. She hummed and whimpered, every sound pushing him to move faster, inching him closer to breaking.
One of his hands closed over her breast. Pressed and massaged. He could feel her walls tightening around him.
He was so damn close, he almost hurt. It was pleasure and agony meshed into one.
A low growl rumbled from his chest.
Her nails scraped down his heated skin again. With his thumb, he grazed across her nipple, and her eyes shuttered, back arching. Finally, she shattered around him.
Blake kept thrusting, his pace never slowing. He watched her, needing to see the depths of her desire. But too soon, at the twitching of her walls around his length, his own climax tore through him, so powerful it almost sent him to his knees.
His mouth crashed back onto hers. Giving. Taking.
He thrust until he physically couldn’t move anymore. Until every part of him had been given to her.
When the waves stopped crashing, and his heart slowed, his temple returned to hers, and they took a moment to be still. To hold each other. To feel and absorb the intimacy of what had just taken place.
