Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance(70)

He crushes me to him in the wake of our orgasms. It feels like he wraps his entire body around me. I nuzzle in closer, with him still inside me, damp chest against my cheek, steely arms clutching me around my back.

I open my lips to say the words he wanted.

But it’s him who drops his cheek against my head and rasps, “Thank you.”





24

Cade

I wake up hot and hard.

And smiling.

Willa’s hair is in my face, and her breath is making my neck feel damp and sweaty. She’s sprawled her long limbs over mine and pressed her body so close that all I’d have to do is shift her a few inches and she’d be lying right on top of me.

I’m not especially comfortable. And I fucking love it.

I always kind of chalked up my dry streak to aging, to being past it at thirty-eight. I know I’m not old but I feel old some days. Worn out and lacking the energy it takes to start a new relationship. Too tired to deal with the highs and the lows and the inevitable drama.

But Willa Grant invigorates me.

After having the best sex of my life, I dragged her to the kitchen and fed her. I made us pancakes.

We talked. We laughed. But when she smudged a bit of syrup on her lips, I couldn’t resist licking it off. And that turned into me getting her on all fours, right on the hardwood floor in the kitchen. Which turned into a shower. Which turned into slamming her into the tile wall until we both came again.

She told me she couldn’t take anymore, but when I yanked her into my bed with me, I disappeared beneath the covers for one more taste. And it turns out she’s a big fat liar because she absolutely took more.

I should be exhausted right now, but apparently my dick didn’t get the memo. Because he’s up and ready to defile the twenty-five-year-old sprawled out in my bed. Again.

“Down, boy,” I murmur, reaching to adjust myself in my boxers. Willa stirs when I move, but my opposite arm comes around to the dimples at the small of her back, pressing her against me.

I don’t care if it’s physically uncomfortable. Having Willa close is comforting. It’s like having Luke under the same roof. I know everyone is safe.

I wish I could say I felt the same way about Luke’s mom. But I don’t. The only times Talia crosses my mind are when I’m feeling wounded or insecure. When that bitter taste crawls up my throat and I think about the years I wasted trying to make things work with her when deep down I didn’t want them to.

The worst part is, I can’t bring myself to regret it because I have Luke. And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Willa moves her head to my chest, sliding her fingers through the sparse hair. “Shh. Go back to sleep. I’m having the best dream.”

The thought that Willa is another of the best things in my life crops up, but it scares me. It feels too soon. She feels too young. It feels too . . . impossible.



“What are you dreaming about, Red?” I lift my head and drop a kiss to her silky hair.

I feel her chest shake a little, her breasts pressing against me. Even the metal of her piercings is warm, because of course she sleeps naked. “That my hot boss banged my brains out last night.”

I shake my head.

“No, for real. You should see this fucking guy. All dark and broody with a massive dick.”

“Willa.”

“These big, calloused hands to go with his big, round ass—”

“Woman.” I flip her onto her back, the sound of her giggle music to my ears. I lie on top of her, propped on my elbows. She’s got this playful smile on her face and creases on her cheek from the pillowcase. She looks like a sleepy, creamy, green-eyed goddess.

I shake my head at her again. I do that a lot. It used to be out of annoyance, now it’s more like . . . disbelief.

“Is woman how you say, Thank you for all the compliments, Willa?”

“Keep teasing me and I’ll fill your throat with my cock to shut you up again,” I grumble, but it’s playful. And she knows it. She’s figured out how to interpret me, rather than being offended by me.

She knows when I’m joking, or when I’m grumpy. And when I am, she just rolls her eyes at me or walks away.

I guess that’s why she opens her mouth like she’s ready to take me there again, but then her eyes widen, and she slams a hand over it. “Oh my God. Morning breath. I’m sorry.”

I laugh. After what we did last night, a little morning breath won’t scare me off. “Willa, I was with you while you were barfing. Your breath will never be worse than that.”

She gasps from behind her palm like she’s offended. “Asshole!” And that just makes me laugh harder.

I press a kiss to her forehead before leaning over to whisper in her ear, “Lucky for you, I won’t be able to smell your breath with my dick in your mouth.”

She laughs silently at that, covering her face with both hands as her body shakes. I flop down beside her and let her infectious happiness take me over.

We lie here—laughing, hands roaming, bodies tangled—but before long, she pulls me back on top of her, slides down my body, and tells me to fuck her mouth.

“Okay, so like . . .” Willa wrings her hands in her lap as I start the truck. It’s like stepping outside of my house has reality crashing down all around us, and she’s freaking out. “How are we handling this?”