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“It’s worth more than that now.”
I pause, my lips still against her neck. “Like how much?”
“Closer to five.”
I pull away from her so I can look into her eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“I’m not.” She slowly shakes her head, smiling.
“You’ve got five million dollars just hanging on your wall. A canvas with lipstick all over it.”
“It’s so much more than that.” Willow turns to face me, slinging her arms around my neck. “It’s a representation of my parents’ love. That my father was and still is willing to do whatever it takes to make my mom happy. She told me when she received that gift, she knew they would be together forever.”
“Aw, so romantic.” I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss the tip of her nose. “They’re setting standards that are impossible to meet, you know.”
She laughs. “I don’t need a five-million-dollar art piece, Rhett. I just want you.”
“And I can give you me.” My lips find hers, lingering for a bit before I eventually pull away. “All night long if you want.”
I kiss her again, getting lost in her taste. The glide of her tongue against mine. The low sounds she makes in her throat when I slip my hands beneath her skirt and grip her ass cheeks in my hands. I can feel the heat of her pussy pressed against my erection, and somehow I’ve guided her over to the door, where I’ve got her pressed firmly against it. I slip my hands beneath her thighs and she goes with me when I lift, wrapping her legs around my waist, her shoes falling off her feet and landing on the floor. I push her into the door, letting her feel what she does to me. Feeling what I do to her because I can tell. My girl is wet and ready for me.
“We probably shouldn’t do this,” she whispers against my lips at one point and I pull away, giving her the power and control to end it right now. We can straighten ourselves up and head back downstairs. Hang out with the family and watch the game on TV because it’s going to come on soon and I promised my dad I would watch it.
But then Willow sneaks her hand in between us, her fingers fumbling to open my khakis and I don’t bother helping her. She’ll get them undone. And when she slips her fingers into my boxer briefs and curls them around my aching dick, I forget about everything else, even football, and concentrate on the sensation of her fingers squeezing my cock.
Before I completely lose it, I shove her dress up, exposing her bottom half, my fingers slipping between her thighs. She’s hot and wet, and from those whimpers that I keep hearing, I’m guessing she wants it as bad as I do. I shove my khakis down with her help and within seconds I’m pushing inside of her, a muffled groan leaving me when I feel all of that tight wet heat surrounding me.
Pausing, I press my forehead to hers and breathe deep, trying to gain some control. She’s on birth control so we’re not using condoms anymore and I’m still not used to how fucking amazing it feels, being inside of her like this. Nothing blocking us--just skin on skin.
“Hurry,” she encourages. “They might start looking for us.”
That’s all I need to hear. I fuck my girl hard and steady, keeping up the rhythm I know she likes best, angling my hips and aiming for that secret spot deep inside her that makes her moan. I find her clit and rub it, my mouth fused with hers, my thrusting causing her body to knock against the door every few seconds. We’re so caught up in it all that I don’t even care if anyone can hear us, and I don’t think she does either, which is really fucking dangerous.
It’s only when we’ve both come and we’re clinging to each other, me panting into her neck when we hear a tiny voice sound from the other side of her door.
“You okay in there, Willow?”
I meet Willow’s gaze, my heart stopping. “Who the fuck is that?” I whisper at her.
“Um, I’m fine!” Willow calls, her eyes wide and full of panic.
“I thought I heard something knocking.”
“I dropped something and it uh, hit the door,” Willow explains, sounding completely out of breath.
“They’re going to serve pumpkin pie soon! Come downstairs when you can. Tell your boyfriend too.”
We hear footsteps grow distant, until they’re completely gone.
“I think that was my cousin. One of the twins.” Willow makes a face. “Oh God, what if she tells someone what she heard?”
“That won’t happen,” I reassure her with all the confidence I can muster but come on.
She might tell someone. Meaning, we need to head to the dining room. Now.
***
We cleaned ourselves up and made it downstairs in record time, entering the dining area just as Willow’s mom brought out a pumpkin pie, Iris’s mom following right after her with an apple pie. I take a slice of both and head for the game room as they call it, where there’s a massive big-screen TV and the football game is currently playing.
