I pull my shorts up at the next pause. We won’t be finishing this.
“Good. I’ll be waiting for the postman every day.”
I sit up on the bed.
“Call me if you need anything, okay? Good night. I love you.”
He ends the call and tosses the phone on the desk. His eyes are pinned to the floor while he sits there, looking tortured. His chest heaves in and out, and the only sound is coming from the police sirens on the TV.
“Dallas,” I finally whisper.
He lifts his head, and my chest aches at the unease on his face.
“Shit, Willow. I’m fucking sorry.”
He pushes out of the chair, his erection not as visible as before when he was about to screw me but still there, and then he storms out of the room.
Tears slip down my face.
Another rejection.
I’m done lying to myself.
I’m done thinking he’ll change.
Fuck Dallas Barnes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dallas
I deserve the rain pouring down on me in front of our hotel room. I deserve to get sucker-punched in my fucking face, mugged right here on this sidewalk, and stabbed in the back for how I treated Willow again.
My cock is hard. The taste of Willow’s sweet pussy is on my tongue. My head is not only blasting with thoughts of how turned on I am, but also of how terrible of a man I am.
I did it again—treated her like shit and walked away while in the moment.
Willow deserves someone better than me, someone who isn’t a mess. But why does it kill me to picture her having that someone? Why can’t I get her out of my head and stay in this miserable place, as I promised myself I would months ago?
I shake my head in agony. What would it look like to Lucy if I fell for someone else? That would hurt her memory, show I was a shitty husband, make it seem like she was replaceable in my eyes.
I bang my palms against the motel’s brick wall. But, Jesus, fuck, what about me?
I clench my hands and stalk back and forth, depicting a serial killer.
Would it hurt Lucy if I moved on?
She’s gone.
Hell, knowing Lucy, she’s probably smiling down at me. She begged me to find someone else to love and made me promise I’d eventually move on, for my daughter’s sake and mine. I agreed, lying to her on her deathbed.
But who wouldn’t when time was running out and you didn’t want to waste your last words arguing about giving your heart to another woman?
I never thought it was possible. The thought of touching another woman made my skin crawl.
Until Willow.
Can I stay confined in my miserable bubble? Keep my heart in reserve because I’m terrified of losing someone I care about again?
I tilt my head up to stare at the dark sky.
“Lucy, baby, tell me what to do. Am I making a wrong move or being a fucking idiot?” I whisper while a million thoughts rush through my mind.
The bed is empty when I walk back into the motel room. I look at the window first, like a dumbass, considering the window is right next to the door, and I would’ve seen her leave. The bathroom light shines through the bottom of the door, and I hear the shower turn on.
Lucky for me, the door isn’t locked. My hand is shaking when I open it while taking a deep breath. I make out her breathtaking silhouette through the thin shower curtain at the same time I hear her crying.
Damn it! I’m a fucking asshole.
I take a step into the room and say her name.
She doesn’t reply.
I repeat it, louder this time.
Silence.
I strip out of my wet clothes, and when I climb in across from her, she pushes me back.
“What the hell, Dallas?” she shrieks. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” is all I can muster. Sorry for scaring her, for turning her down, for acting like an asshole. Why am I always fucking up with her?
Her tears get lost in the water. “I’m sick of your sorrys. I’m done, Dallas.” She throws her hands up. “Done with your bullshit games. I refuse to be some toy for you to play with when it’s convenient for you.”
She winces when I stretch my arm out to move her fiery-red hair from her face, so I can see her beautiful green eyes better.
Today was a good day. We had fun. I told her shit no one else knows. I felt our babies in her stomach for the first time. We kissed. I had my hand in her panties and fingers in her pussy.
Then, I fucked it all up.
“No more bullshit,” I whisper. “I promise.”
“Your promises don’t mean shit,” she says with a snort, throwing my words back at me. “It only makes you look like more of a jackass each time.”
I am a jackass.
“Tell me what you want me to do. How can I make this right?”
“Let yourself live!” she shouts. “Get it through that thick skull of yours that it’s okay to move on, for your sake!” She stabs her finger into my chest. “For your daughter’s sake!” Her finger moves to my stomach. “For my fucking sake!”
I cup her cheeks with both hands. “I’ve tried,” I ground out. “I’ve tried telling myself I shouldn’t do this with you, but maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. I’m not supposed to be fighting it.” I caress her soft skin. “Neither one of us is supposed to be fighting it because the only thing that feels natural is this. Us together.”
“No,” she breathes out. “You only fight shit that you don’t want to happen.”
“Trust me, fighting it means, it’s all I want to happen.” She shakes her head, and I wipe away her tears. “Say the word. Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you want me to leave this shower.”
She breathes in deep breaths and stays quiet.
“Do you want me to leave?” I stress.
She pinches her lips together and won’t answer.
“Or would you rather I did this?”
She gasps when I fall to my knees and inch her feet apart. I run my hand up her leg and straight to the opening of her pussy.
“Answer my question,” I demand.
Instead of pushing me again, she slips her hand into my hair and moans. “That. I’d rather you did that.” Her nails dig deep into my scalp before I make another move. “Keep going.”
And that’s what I do.
I situate one of her legs on the edge of the bathtub, and her body trembles at the first swipe of my tongue.
The taste of her is sweet.
Fucking heavenly.
I could eat her out for the rest of my life and never go hungry.
I apologize with my tongue.
Own her with it.
Beg her not to turn her back on me and plead to her to give me another chance.
If my words aren’t convincing enough, I hope my tongue can do the trick.
“Shit, that feels so good,” she mutters when I drive two fingers into her pussy and flick my tongue at her opening at the same time.
My dick stirs when I peek up at the image I’m getting. I’m on the verge of combusting from the view of Willow grinding her pussy into my face. I don’t stop until I know she’s on her way to falling apart.
“I’m close,” she chants over and over again. Her foot arches off the edge, and she holds the back of my head in place as she lets go, her juices running onto my tongue while she moans out her final release.