The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Actually, I am,” he said, a hint of a smile playing around his mouth.

“Are you sure?” She still frowned, apparently not convinced.

Ethan nodded, holding her gaze. “I thought about what you said. You were right. About everything. I went over to the house tonight to talk to Amanda.”

Willow’s eyes widened, but she didn’t draw back. Something shadowed her face, doubt or fear. He didn’t want it to sit there long enough to need identification.

“It’s over,” he said. “The… waiting, fighting, all of it. We’re filing for divorce.”

Instead of delight or relief or anything remotely selfish, her gaze softened with a sad kind of sympathy. “Oh, god. I’m sorry, Ethan. Are you really okay? Don’t lie to me.”

He smiled because he couldn’t help it. If asked, he would’ve never said he was holding back from her before, but the feeling of wanting to get absolutely lost in the wonderful woman standing in front of him, lost in every way… well, it was new.

Instead of answering, he cupped her face in his palm and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I haven’t done a goddamn thing to deserve you, Willow Kensington.”

“We can agree to disagree,” she answered with a teasing smile.

His face was already nestled against her neck when he murmured, “Is anybody else home?”

“If they were, you would be legitimately dead,” she answered, lifting her leg to tug him against her. “Literally. Ashlynn has a gun. Never come here again.”

“I had to. It was important.”

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, she pulled back and shot him a look. “Important enough to risk your life, or at the very least, an appendage we’re both quite fond of?”

He nodded, drinking in every detail of her face, of the way her body looked pressed up against his, pushed up against the wall. His arousal surged, and he imagined all the things he wanted to do to her. He wanted to haul her ass up those stairs to that damned purple bedroom and throw her down on her bed. He wanted to mount her and kiss her and do everything to her, with her. He wanted to claim her, mark her, greedily take everything she’d give him.

“I love you, Willow,” he said, looking into her eyes. He felt both satisfied and a little guilty at the joy that transformed her countenance, at the sultry promise in her gray gaze as she looked at him like he’d just given her the world.

Instead of responding with words, she dropped to her knees, fingers hooking on his waistband and worked at the button, popping it open.

“Shouldn’t we…?” He indicated the stairs, but Willow wasn’t stopping. His soaked pants hit the floor and she repositioned herself, grasping him at the base and looking up at him, teasing him for just a moment as she flicked her tongue out to lick the tip.

Thoughts of further protesting their location lingered for a moment, but as she took him all the way into her mouth and he grasped the wall for support, more pressing matters required his attention.

Her mouth felt incredible, but after only a minute he tugged her back up. She waited for his lead, unsure why he was stopping her, and then his mouth crushed hers again, hand tucked around her waist, anchoring her body to his.

“I want you,” he murmured against her lips, his hands roaming up under her shirt, teasing the flesh beneath.

“I can tell,” she answered, a grin sneaking in between kisses.

Taking the lead, she grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him into the living room, over to the couch. Before he even got the chance, she reached for the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head. Her jeans were swiftly abandoned on the floor next. She glanced up to make sure he was following suit, but instead caught him motionless, his eyes hungrily traveling every curve of her body.

“Feel free to jump in anytime,” she said lightly.

“You’re distractingly beautiful,” he stated, a sensual smile lighting up his handsome face.

Nodding as she stood and reached for the buttons on his shirts to assist him, she said, “So are you, hence the need for clothing removal.”

For all her playful bluster, once she got his shirt off, her hands moved over the muscular planes of his body and she couldn’t help but sigh. Stealing a glance up at him, she caught his amused smile and rolled her eyes.

“God, you’re too good-looking. And you know it.”

“I have to be, to make up for being such a pain in the ass,” he told her, his blue eyes twinkling.

A short burst of laughter distracted her from his body, and he took the opportunity to rid himself of the rest of his clothes.