“Okay.” She exhaled a deep breath and kept her gaze on their intertwined hands. “My mother wasn’t interested in being a parent, so I guess you could say she emotionally abandoned me long before she actually left.”
“How so?”
She lifted her legs and wrapped her arms around them, not meeting his gaze. “She brought men home. Different men.”
His gut churned as she began to speak, anger filling him on behalf of the little girl she’d been.
She released his hands. “And she’d lock me in my room while they were over. Sometimes she’d forget to give me dinner because she was busy putting her face on, as she called it, so I went to bed hungry. But I usually couldn’t sleep, and I could hear them through the paper-thin walls of the apartment. I guess you could say I learned early on my feelings and what I needed didn’t count for much.”
His hands curled into tight fists. Maybe it wasn’t fair to make her relive these moments. “Willow, on second thought–”
She shook her head. “No. You wanted to know? I’m going to tell you.” Drawing a deep breath, she went on. “One day, Mom didn’t pick me up from school, and after I spent the afternoon at the police station, a woman from social services showed up to take me to my temporary home. Until they found my mom.”
“Except they didn’t,” he said, stomach twisting with pain for her.
“Nope. And that began my rotation of foster families.” Her legs slid back down to the floor with a thud, and she faced him again. “Some were decent, some were in it for the money, some had too many kids, most weren’t all that interested in our lives. If social services needed to add a younger child to a home, I’d get bumped to someone who’d take older kids, sometimes with no notice. Just pack your bag and let’s go. And by bag I mean trash bag.”
He winced and, for the first time, looked around her small apartment, really taking in his surroundings. The couch was generic, one you could find in any retail store, the pillows matching, but there were no personal mementos. No photographs of family or friends, nothing he sensed had sentimental value.
The desire to fill her place with warmth and family gripped him and wouldn’t let go. She deserved so much more than she had in life, and knowing she was sleeping on the sofa so Aurora would have a comfortable bed showed him she gave more than she took. Or expected.
“Enough,” he said in a gruff voice. “It hurts to hear how you grew up.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted? To know everything?”
He nodded. “I just didn’t know how much it would break my heart.” Grasping her wrist, he pulled her toward him, and she came willingly, her body falling on top of his.
“I need to hold you.” He needed to make her forget. Hell, he needed to put her story somewhere where it wouldn’t hurt.
He shifted positions until they were comfortable and he was stretched out on the couch, Willow’s sweet body cushioned on top of him. And then they were making out, his tongue sweeping through her mouth, desire pulsing through him. His cock throbbed against her core, and when she shifted her hips, she moaned.
Never breaking the kiss, he worked his hand between them and slid his fingers into her flimsy shorts and panties, finding her soaking wet. She rolled to the side closest to the cushions, giving him room to play. He dipped his fingers lower and spread her arousal around her sex, teasing her with long caresses and not so innocent pinches that had her squirming and arching into his hand.
“I wish we could go into the bedroom,” he said, his throbbing cock knowing it wasn’t going to get any relief tonight. But more because he wanted to make love to her and soothe her after he’d forced her to relive the memories.
She shook her head. “It’s Aurora’s bed for now, and no way do we have time to change sheets after. It’s making out like teenagers or nothing.”
He nipped at her bottom lip. “I’ll take the making out, but next time you’re coming to my place.”
“No arguing there,” she murmured, surprising him with how pliant and willing she was in his arms. “Now hurry up and make me come, because I don’t know when Aurora will be back, and I want to have time for you.” Her eyes gleamed with naughtiness.
Obviously she’d put the heaviness of their conversation behind her, something he assumed she’d learned how to do. Compartmentalize the pain so she could survive.
He refocused on Willow, gliding his fingers over her pussy back and forth, until he inched his way to her clit. A full-body shudder told him she was close, and he began to rub her in easy circles until she grabbed his wrist and positioned his palm exactly where she needed pressure.