Page 80 of Seein’ Red

He stops himself, face going white. I can see the color as it drains, his body freezing. Like he’s a robot who needs to be reset.

My insides leap, waiting for him to continue. For something I’ve wanted to hear for forever. I know I shouldn't get my hopes up. I did that once and got hurt so bad it’s taken ten years and an oops to fix.

The words don’t come though. Nothing does. Nash is still frozen, completely unmoving.

“You…” I prompt.

Nash blinks, coming to. “I promise that you won’t regret it.”

Won’t regret it. I sure hope not.

22

NASH

I almost said them.

Those three little words.

They were right there. On the tip of my tongue. Ready and waiting to be flung into the universe.

But I chickened out. Again.

At least this time I didn’t make up some lie that fractures us for another decade. Or worse—forever.

As I run the damp towel over my body, the tub gurgles behind me, the last of the water draining from it. Despite the weird soundtrack, my eyes are glued on Willa, inspecting her face in the mirror as she brushes her teeth. She’s up on her tiptoes, perched over the sink, perfect boobs on display, the itty-bitty sleep shorts she slipped on barely covering her ass.

This might be the most beautiful she’s ever looked. Which is saying something, because she’s beautiful all the time. But in this moment, I can’t help but fall for her even more.

Because I meant what I said. I want us to be a family.

I want this to be our every day. I want her to be the one I wake up next to every morning and fall asleep with every night. She’s the one I want to rush home to—to hear about her day, to tell her about mine. The one I want to raise kids with. The one I want to argue with over whether it’s an angel or a star on top of the Christmas tree, or what’s for dinner, or how to discipline our kid even though we know we pulled the exact same stunt at their age.

What’s the line from the movie she’s made me watch a hundred times? Something about how I’d rather argue with you than make love to anyone else. That. That’s what I want.

Although, I want the making love part too. I want all of it.

With her.

I drop the towel—knowing full well I’ll probably get an ear full for not hanging it up—and slide up behind my blonde goddess, wrapping my arms around her waist. My dick twitches, the soft fabric of her sleep shorts rubbing against it. She wiggles in my embrace, fighting back a smile, catching my eyes in the mirror.

“I need to spit,” she tells me, mouth full of toothpaste suds.

“That’s what she said.”

Willa groans, rolling her eyes, once again trying to wriggle out of my arms as she spits and rinses, but I don’t let go. Instead, I press my lips against her soft skin, right where her neck and shoulder meet. She coos, ass rubbing against my dick even more. If I wasn’t hard before, I certainly am now.

Twisting around to face me, Willa wraps her arms around my neck. The move is smooth, natural, like it’s a habit. And I fucking love it.

I don’t hold back, pressing my lips to hers, trying to make this moment last. I want to savor it, imprint it into my memory so that on a cold, rainy afternoon I can sit back and remember this feeling. Because it’s damn good.

But, I also need to up the ante. I need more of her. All of her.

I want to worship her—mind, body, and soul. Show her everything I can’t put into words. Because even though I can’t say them, I mean them. I feel them. Yet, they aren’t enough.

Running my hands down her back, I grip her ass, yanking her into me hard, our mouths still fused together. Willa yips into our kiss, but doesn’t fight me as I lift her up. She simply wraps her legs around my waist, grinding her core into me.

Fuuuuuuck….