CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PASSION POUNDED THROUGH Zane’s veins as he took Willow’s hand, apologized to the others about suddenly feeling ill, and quickly paid the bill—leaving an exorbitant tip, along with an extra two hundred bucks in case they wanted dessert and more drinks. Hell, he’d have paid thousands to get out of there without any questions. He was pretty sure Ben didn’t buy his too-ill-to-stick-around act, but he didn’t care. He had tunnel vision. Willow had taunted him all evening with seductive looks and tempting brushes of her leg, her fingers, her gaze, until he felt imprisoned by a web of arousal.
Every step toward her car was a test of control. When they reached the dark, deserted corner of the lot where he’d parked, he took her in his arms and finally—finally—kissed her as he’d been dying to do all evening. His mouth moved over hers, devouring its softness with urgency. He tried to throttle the dizzying current racing through him, but when his hand touched her thigh and she rocked against him, he couldn’t hold back. He’d waited all night to feel her, and he pushed both hands beneath her dress, filling his palms with her exquisite ass. His breath sailed from his lungs in a sigh of sweet relief, like a drowning man getting a foothold on dry land.
He kissed her again, stumbling to the far side of the car without breaking their connection and trapping her between the cold metal and his hard body. He ground against her, pushing his fingers between her legs from behind, teasing her slick heat. She moaned into the kiss, moving her hips and widening her stance to allow him better access.
“Need you, baby,” he said between kisses.
“Take me.”
Keeping hold of her with one hand, he moved his other to the front, thrusting into her velvety heat and earning a sweet, sexy sound. She palmed him through his pants, stroking him to the same rhythm as he moved over the secret spot that drew a delicious whimper from her lips. He swallowed the sinful sound as she continued stroking him and driving him out of his mind with every tight stroke of her hand.
“I need more,” she pleaded.
A quick sweep of the lot assured him they were out of eyesight, and he dropped to his knees and ran his hands up her thighs, kissing them as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She spread her legs wider, the scent of her arousal drawing him in, but even though they were alone, shielded from anyone who might come or go from the restaurant, he loved her too much to take her here. He touched his lips to the tender skin below her belly button and rose to his feet, lowering her dress.
“Not here, baby. I don’t want to chance anyone seeing us.”
“Take me to the bridge,” she whispered.
“The bridge?” The covered bridge was about a mile from Tasker’s Chance and had been known as Make-Out Point when they were in high school.
“Yeah.” She pointed to his mouth. “You have lipstick all over your face.”
He wiped his face on his sleeve, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him.
“Come on, big boy.”
Ten minutes later they parked just beyond the covered bridge, which offered an even more majestic view of the town than the restaurant had. He reached over and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it.
“Why are we here, baby?”
“Because I’ve never been here with a guy, and you were my first, so I wanted to experience this with you as my first, too. Nobody comes here anymore. It’s all ours.” She took off her heels, opened the glove box, and popped the hood. With a coy smile, she stepped out of the car.
He followed her to the front of the car. She lifted the hood, and he was astounded to see the blue-and-green blanket they’d made love on all those years ago. She rubbed her shoulder against his before grabbing it and closing the hood.
“You’ve kept it all this time?” As he helped her spread out the blanket, memories rushed in—the scratch of the blanket on his knees rivaling the softness of Willow’s nubile body. The worry about the abrasions it might leave on her back. The fear of coming too soon, or too hard, or saying the wrong thing.
“I took it with me when I went away to college,” Willow answered. “It’s been with me ever since.”
“Baby . . .” He grasped for words, but how could he put into words emotions that felt like they were expanding too big for his body? “We were so young. Everything was new and bigger than life. And it still feels that way.” He reached for her hand. “You planned all of this? The dress, the tease, the blanket. Wills . . .”
She shook her head, and her hair tumbled forward, framing her beautiful face. “Not the hard part at the restaurant,” she said shyly. “But I had hoped to drive you crazy enough that you’d want me by the time we came here.”
He laughed. “That I’d want you? Was there even a question?”
“Well, you’re not very sexual, so . . .” She hooked her finger into the waist of his pants and tugged open the button, slowly working his zipper. “Sometimes a girl has to . . .” She struggled to tug his pants down his hips. “Go the”—tug, tug—“extra mile.”
“Is that so? I only want you every minute of every day.” He gathered her against him. “Baby, the minute you said you’d help me with this crazy scheme, you went the extra mile. And in doing so, you unlocked my heart and claimed the part of me you’ve always owned.”
The emotions in her eyes rivaled those in his heart. She crossed her arms, gathering the hem of her dress in either hand, and drew it over her head. It floated down to the blanket like a whisper. They didn’t speak, didn’t reach for each other, as they undressed. Their love transcended words, and space, and time. Moonlight shimmered off her skin as they came together, and he lowered her to the blanket. He crushed his mouth to hers, driven by memories of the past and hopes of the future. There was no elegance to their lovemaking, no finesse or careful, tender moments. Raw, unbridled passion propelled them into fierce thrusts, clawing fingers, and moans of pleasure. And still it wasn’t enough. He needed to see her, to be claimed by her.
Holding her tight, he rolled them over, giving her the reins. With the moon at her back, blond tendrils cascading over her flawless breasts and her sexy, full hips moving in time to his thrusts, she rode him hard, looking every bit a goddess. But to Zane, while she was stunning, her hair and physical attributes were like makeup for an actor. They were what everyone else saw, not what made her the woman he loved.
He saw her generous heart, which nearly bubbled out with every smile. He felt her tender and carnal touches, which burned him to his core. He saw treasured memories he’d held for so many years, he knew he’d take them to his grave and follow them up to heaven. When he saw her with Louie, he saw the mother she’d become, and one day, the old and gray doting grandmother she was destined to be.
She flattened her hands on his chest, moving along his shaft with a blissful look in her eyes—the deep pools of emotions that tore at him when they were apart, and drowned him when they were together.
He pulled her down on top of him, kissing her over and over again in a series of chaste, needy kisses, and rolled them over again.
She smiled up at him as he slowed them down.
“You love me,” she said with such confidence it filled him with joy.
“Always have. You’re my best friend, Wills. My frosting queen.” He laced their hands together and lowered himself over her.
“I know. I mean, I really believe it all the way to my bones.” She drew in a ragged breath and turned her face, pressing her lips to their joined hands before meeting his gaze again. “This is our new moment, Z. Our forever moment.”