Perfectly Imperfect(53)
“Fuck,” I expel.
I know this isn’t going to be easy. Thrusting her into my insane life seems to be the least of my issues. Mia and everything that comes with her are another reason I’m about to come apart. They go hand in hand with the spotlight of my life. I’m floundering, and the only time I feel sane is when that woman, my f*cking woman, is looking at me as if I hold all life’s answers when I can’t even seem to answer my own.
Last night, I knew she wasn’t herself. It took a few messages from her to realize that my little doe was drunk off her ass. Adorably so. I spent the rest of the night f*cking my hand over the image of her lips around me. Then this morning it was as if she didn’t have a clue. The look on her face, even though it didn’t do f*ck all to dim the erection I’ve been sporting since, has had me a mess all day.
I crave her.
And honestly, I’m not sure how to handle it if she were to walk away now.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and after calling out for everyone to take five, I look down at the screen.
Willow: Okay. Clearly, I was a lush last night. But, yes, I meant every word. I’m nervous, slightly embarrassed, and not entirely sure I will be able to go THERE without a few little freak-outs, but Kane … you make me feel safe at the same time you burn me alive with how much I want you. So, yes. I meant it. Just hold my hand and help me get there.
I don’t respond, but f*ck if my smile doesn’t hurt it’s so big.
Yeah, baby, I’ll hold your hand. Fuck yeah, I will.
Tonight, I’m going to show this woman just how much I want her, and I’m going to make sure she enjoys every second of me holding her hand.
“REMEMBER WHAT I SAID, OKAY?”
I give Kirby a nod and the reassuring smile she needs to see I’m ready and feeling the weightlessness of my decision to give myself to someone who makes me feel safe.
Her own expression shines with so much happiness it’s infectious. Before I know it, we’re both laughing and the few crewmembers left milling around are giving us a wide berth. We probably look manically insane, but God, does this lightness inside me feel euphoric. She walks away to the waiting Cam and car that will take her back to her family.
Turning around before she climbs inside, she calls out toward where I’m standing. Ignoring the few photographers I can see through the darkness around us just a few yards away, she screams, “I won’t wait up! Enjoy getting back on the bike again!”
God, she has no shame. I chuckle and turn, but halt in my steps. Kane laughs softly and smiles in Kirby’s direction before looking over at the photographers who are now snapping away. His expression hardens slightly before it washes just as quickly as it came.
“Come on, Willow,” he tells me, and his hand hits my back, a place I’ve begun to love having his touch, before guiding me toward his trailer. “I know it’s late, but I just need to grab a few things and then we can head out when Cam gets back.”
“Out being?”
He doesn’t answer, but I can see his eyes smile from my view of his profile.
I step inside, the scent of all that is Kane permeating the air around me, assaulting my senses in a rush of woodsy-like freshness. The pure rush of it causes my body to physically shudder. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, savoring the alluring scent.
When I open my eyes again, he’s staring at me with an expression of pure rapture. Me, Willow Tate—as if I’m a meal he can’t wait to devour. A drink he’s been craving after years lost in the desert. Like I’m the only thing he can see, and at this moment, I believe him.
“You all right over there?” His voice vibrates through my body, and I gesture with a nod of affirmation. “Do you want to talk before we leave?”
“We probably should. Or we can talk wherever we’re going. Which is where?”
“I’m staying at a friend’s house while we’re filming here. Not too far from my own house, the one you’re in, but it will allow us the privacy we need.”
He turns away with a wink and grabs some paperwork off the table, his phone, and tablet, and places them in a messenger-type bag.
“Hey,” I call, and he turns to give me his attention. “Why are we staying in your house, and you’re staying somewhere else? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to have just put us up somewhere? A hotel even?”
His eyes shine brightly. At this moment, his handsome face looks less roughly rugged and more youthful in his enjoyment. “Because, Willow, I love knowing that you’re in my bed.” He bends down, his full lips firing the nerves in my own when they press against me briefly before lifting away just enough for his lips to dance over mine as he continues to speak. “Easier it might have been, but I wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking about you no matter where you called your home away from home here. I can’t even tell you what it does to me when I think about your body wrapped in my sheets. How you walk across my room in the morning to get into my shower. And the image of your body, naked, in that shower while water runs over every inch of your skin … that definitely didn’t make it easier, but f*ck if I don’t love knowing you’re there.”
“Oh … wow.” My breathy words come out quickly, and with his face so close to mine, I’m rewarded with watching his pupils dilate. He’s as turned on as I feel right now. I swallow thickly, the sound seeming to echo around us. “Wouldn’t … don’t … do you not want to be there with me … doing those things?”