I’m not there yet. But I’ve got to end her torment.
I slide a finger through her slick folds and inside her. Beyond tight, she immediately clenches around me. Christ.
Her legs vibrate, and her forehead presses harder into my chest. “Garrison. Ah…”
I pulse inside of her a couple times and continue circling her clit. It happens so fast. Her abdomen spasms and her cries bleed into the air. Her hand whips to my wrist to stop my movements. Too sensitive. Too gone.
She curls up on her side, even with my hand still against her heat. Like she’s cocooning herself against me. My head is floating, a billion miles in the sky. So wrapped up in this girl.
Her flesh glistens with a light layer of sweat, and I brush back her hair so that I can see her face. “You okay?” I ask.
“Mmmhmm.” Her breathing is still heavy.
I can’t last much longer. I remove my hand from her panties, my fingers slick. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Promise—”
She catches my wrist to stop me.
Veins pulsate in my dick. “Willow,” I whisper. “I have to go jack off.”
“I know,” she says, still out of breath. “You can do it here, though.”
Here?
“In your bed?” I lick my lips. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I want to…um…watch you.”
I smile. “Seems fair.” I just got to watch her orgasm. I lie on my side again.
She smiles back. “Do you need—”
“Don’t offer it, if it’s just because you think you have to,” I say, stopping her. “I don’t need you to touch me if you’re not ready.”
Hesitation fills her gaze. “You sure?”
“Yeah. This is enough.” I didn’t even think I’d be doing this tonight. I slide my pants to my ankles and kick them off. Just in my boxer-briefs, I slip my hand down the fabric, gripping my rock-hard dick. Unlike her, I don’t close my eyes.
I keep them open and attached to Willow as I stroke myself.
She watches me with parted lips.
She looks at me like I’m an otherworldly thing too good for this Earth, but I’m lying next to her jacking off while literally wearing a devil’s costume.
In my soul, I know, hell is where I’m from.
february
38
willow hale
On one of the best days of my life, it has to be pouring. Rain pelts the roof of the courthouse, and I guess it should feel ominous. But I couldn’t be happier sitting in the first row beside Garrison and my dad.
My dad.
I’ve been referring to Jonathan Hale as my father for almost a year now. He reached out to me, wanting to have a relationship. Wanting to get to know me.
Our first real meeting as father and daughter was accompanied by Ryke and Lo, but it told me what I needed to know.
Jonathan Hale isn’t perfect. Not in the slightest. But I’ve never had a parent fight to spend time with me. My mom let me run off to Philly like she was tossing feathers into the wind, and long before that, Robert Moore rejected me just on the assumption that I might not be his daughter. Maybe deep down he knew.
And he’s here.
In the very back row.
He’s the only part of the day that clouds the happiness. I don’t peek over my shoulder again to check if he’s still in the courtroom. I know he has to be.
Garrison holds my hand tightly, giving me encouraging nods. The fact that he’s here with me through these giant moments in my life—it brings about this wave of comfort and longing. For a future. One that lasts forever with him.
Lily leans over Garrison, at the end of the first row with Lo, to whisper to me, “They’re here.”
Okay, I have to glance back this time. Sucking in a breath, I rotate a little. But four bodies block my view from Robert Moore.
Daisy, Ryke, Connor, and Rose walk down the aisle, and Daisy rings out her sopping wet hair, drenched from the storm. Her other hand rests atop her round belly, baby due any day now.
They came here just for me. It’s an overwhelming feeling knowing that so many people care. This isn’t a birth or a wedding. It’s just one of those unique pivotal moments in my life that I didn’t think would matter to other people.
But I see that it does.
My glasses mist, and I quickly rotate to face the front. Not wanting them to see me cry. I take my glasses off, wiping the lenses with my shirt.
When I turn back, they’ve already slipped into the second row. “Thanks for coming, everyone,” I tell them.
“Wouldn’t fucking miss it,” Ryke says.
I put my glasses back on and hold his gaze, which has been easier these days. My relationship with Ryke isn’t so awkward anymore. And I couldn’t tell you the day that it changed. It was a slow, gradual process to accept that this intimidating force in my life is also my big brother.