Текст книги "Perfectly Imperfect"

Автор книги: Harper Sloan

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

I TURN AWAY FROM THE monitor and run my hands through my hair. Nothing today is falling into place. That’s a fucking lie. The actors are flawless. They’ve hit their stride and every take seems to get better and better. I should be thrilled, but my head isn’t in the game.

Which makes no sense.

I’m finally behind the camera, directing and producing a film I’ve been working on for the better part of five years. A film I’ve put my own blood, sweat, and frustrations into beginning with the screenplay. This is my moment. This film is my baby. I should be fucking thrilled.

Instead, I can’t get one stunning brown-eyed woman off my mind. I can’t stop seeing the same fear Alessandra eludes to in Willow’s eyes. I know she’s been through shit, but I’m beyond frustrated I can’t just fix it, and I have a feeling that until she’s ready, I might be doing more harm than good by coming on as strong as I have.

“Fuck,” I expel.

I know this isn’t going to be easy. Thrusting her into my insane life seems to be the least of my issues. Mia and everything that comes with her are another reason I’m about to come apart. They go hand in hand with the spotlight of my life. I’m floundering, and the only time I feel sane is when that woman, my fucking woman, is looking at me as if I hold all life’s answers when I can’t even seem to answer my own.

Last night, I knew she wasn’t herself. It took a few messages from her to realize that my little doe was drunk off her ass. Adorably so. I spent the rest of the night fucking my hand over the image of her lips around me. Then this morning it was as if she didn’t have a clue. The look on her face, even though it didn’t do fuck all to dim the erection I’ve been sporting since, has had me a mess all day.

I crave her.

And honestly, I’m not sure how to handle it if she were to walk away now.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and after calling out for everyone to take five, I look down at the screen.

Willow: Okay. Clearly, I was a lush last night. But, yes, I meant every word. I’m nervous, slightly embarrassed, and not entirely sure I will be able to go THERE without a few little freak-outs, but Kane … you make me feel safe at the same time you burn me alive with how much I want you. So, yes. I meant it. Just hold my hand and help me get there.

I don’t respond, but fuck if my smile doesn’t hurt it’s so big.

Yeah, baby, I’ll hold your hand. Fuck yeah, I will.

Tonight, I’m going to show this woman just how much I want her, and I’m going to make sure she enjoys every second of me holding her hand.

“REMEMBER WHAT I SAID, OKAY?”

I give Kirby a nod and the reassuring smile she needs to see I’m ready and feeling the weightlessness of my decision to give myself to someone who makes me feel safe.

Her own expression shines with so much happiness it’s infectious. Before I know it, we’re both laughing and the few crewmembers left milling around are giving us a wide berth. We probably look manically insane, but God, does this lightness inside me feel euphoric. She walks away to the waiting Cam and car that will take her back to her family.

Turning around before she climbs inside, she calls out toward where I’m standing. Ignoring the few photographers I can see through the darkness around us just a few yards away, she screams, “I won’t wait up! Enjoy getting back on the bike again!”

God, she has no shame. I chuckle and turn, but halt in my steps. Kane laughs softly and smiles in Kirby’s direction before looking over at the photographers who are now snapping away. His expression hardens slightly before it washes just as quickly as it came.

“Come on, Willow,” he tells me, and his hand hits my back, a place I’ve begun to love having his touch, before guiding me toward his trailer. “I know it’s late, but I just need to grab a few things and then we can head out when Cam gets back.”

“Out being?”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see his eyes smile from my view of his profile.

I step inside, the scent of all that is Kane permeating the air around me, assaulting my senses in a rush of woodsy-like freshness. The pure rush of it causes my body to physically shudder. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, savoring the alluring scent.

When I open my eyes again, he’s staring at me with an expression of pure rapture. Me, Willow Tate—as if I’m a meal he can’t wait to devour. A drink he’s been craving after years lost in the desert. Like I’m the only thing he can see, and at this moment, I believe him.

“You all right over there?” His voice vibrates through my body, and I gesture with a nod of affirmation. “Do you want to talk before we leave?”

“We probably should. Or we can talk wherever we’re going. Which is where?”

“I’m staying at a friend’s house while we’re filming here. Not too far from my own house, the one you’re in, but it will allow us the privacy we need.”

He turns away with a wink and grabs some paperwork off the table, his phone, and tablet, and places them in a messenger-type bag.

“Hey,” I call, and he turns to give me his attention. “Why are we staying in your house, and you’re staying somewhere else? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to have just put us up somewhere? A hotel even?”

His eyes shine brightly. At this moment, his handsome face looks less roughly rugged and more youthful in his enjoyment. “Because, Willow, I love knowing that you’re in my bed.” He bends down, his full lips firing the nerves in my own when they press against me briefly before lifting away just enough for his lips to dance over mine as he continues to speak. “Easier it might have been, but I wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking about you no matter where you called your home away from home here. I can’t even tell you what it does to me when I think about your body wrapped in my sheets. How you walk across my room in the morning to get into my shower. And the image of your body, naked, in that shower while water runs over every inch of your skin … that definitely didn’t make it easier, but fuck if I don’t love knowing you’re there.”

“Oh … wow.” My breathy words come out quickly, and with his face so close to mine, I’m rewarded with watching his pupils dilate. He’s as turned on as I feel right now. I swallow thickly, the sound seeming to echo around us. “Wouldn’t … don’t … do you not want to be there with me … doing those things?”

His pupils grow even more until the bright blue of his eyes is almost completely covered. “Fuck, you can’t say that kind of stuff to me, Willow. I’m hanging on by a thread right now.”

“I know the feeling,” I tell him honestly.

“Don’t doubt that I wouldn’t rather be there with you, not for a second, but I know you wouldn’t have been ready for that without trusting me. I didn’t, and still don’t, want to push you for things you aren’t ready for. I guess, to answer your question, I was selfishly pleasuring myself while I waited for you to make the move and let me know you’re ready.”

“Kane?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You make me crazy nervous.” The desire in his eyes dims slightly, and his head cocks slightly to the side in question, spurring me to continue. “Well, you don’t, but I’m … God, this is embarrassing.”

His hands come up and frame my face, moving in closer, but not touching me past his two warm hands. Comforting. Strong. Reassuring. But most importantly, not judging me.

“You know I have a lot of issues with how I see myself. It’s taken me a long while to get to where I am right now, standing in front of you and even telling you all of this. Bottom line, intimacy and fear run hand in hand with me. I’m so afraid, Kane, that deep down when you see me, all of me, you will be so unsatisfied because I’m not even close to the women you’re used to.” I rush the last of that out in a breath of words, and I would question whether he understood me except for the rapidness of his breathing and the slight flare of his nostrils.

“I won’t tell you again, Willow,” he starts, his voice a deadly calm. “Those women hold nothing to you. They aren’t the ones I want. You are. If I have to knock each and every one of those fears out of your mind, I’ll gladly do it if it means you understand, without a shadow of doubt, that when I look at you, I fucking love what I see.”

“And that, Kane, is what scares me the most. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to let it all go to get there, no matter how hard I want to.”

His eyes go soft. “Give me your hand then, Willow, and let me take you there.”

I follow Kane through the doorway and look around the entryway. What the heck am I doing? I can hear Kirby and her family laughing somewhere in the back of the house. I turn to look at Kane as he walks in behind me and give him a shaky smile.

When Cam came back to get us, I know it was his intention to take us to the house he’s staying at, but Kane’s words about why he has me in his space had me speaking up and telling Cam to take us here. If Kane was shocked, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gave Cam a small nod and turned to look out his window, but not before I saw the smile that took over his face.

And not once during our short drive here did he let go of my hand.

Even when we arrived, he only let go long enough for me to climb out behind him, but the second I was out of the SUV, his hand was back in mine. He’s taken my words to heart, and he is showing me that he understands my needs by taking my hand and literally helping me get there.

“I’m going to let Kirby know we’re here so she doesn’t freak out if she wanders over to my end of the house.”

He doesn’t respond; instead, he starts walking deeper into the house, his hand still holding mine. When we round the corner that brings us into the large family room, each of the three Evans family members look over at us in shock.

“Willow!” Alli jumps up and runs to give me a hug. She smiles one of her adorable innocent smiles and looks over at Kane. “Hi!”

“Alli,” Rob starts. “Come on, little one, it’s way past your bedtime.”

She continues to stare up at Kane but defiantly rolls her eyes at her father. “But Dad! Mr. Masters is here, and I heard Mommy tell you that he is going to melt Willow’s pants off her. I gotta tell him that’s not okay.”

“Oh, my God,” I rush out.

“Allison Marie!” Kirby gasps.

Rob just shakes his head before bending down and playfully throwing his daughter over his shoulders. “Sorry about that.” He shrugs and takes Alli laughing toward the kitchen, and I’m assuming the back stairs that will lead to their end of the house.

When they’ve cleared the room, I look over and narrow my eyes at Kirby. She holds her hands out and laughs. “Oh, whatever. I could say something to defend what I said, but both of you know it’s true, so just shut it.”

Kane laughs and I look over at him. He isn’t embarrassed; if anything, he loves this.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you have plans?” Kirby asks.

“We still do,” I tell her and try to tell her to shut up and leave with my eyes.

“Ah. I see. Well, carry on, children. I’m going to go up and spend some time with my crazy kid and husband. Have fun and all that.” She grabs the television remote and clicks the power off, moving to leave the room. “Hey, Wills, I saw a few bikes in the garage earlier.” She doesn’t give me a chance to respond, which I’m sure was intentional since she was giving a not so subtle reminder to me to buck up before she leaves the room laughing.

“She’s interesting,” Kane tells me, his mouth near my ear and his breath making my whole body tremble.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

This time, I reach out and fold my hand around his, walking back the way we just came and pulling him toward the stairs leading to my end of the house. Each step I take has my heart beating more and more erratic. Even though I feel like I’m about to swallow my tongue, I’m positive I need to make this move, especially since he knows how nervous I am. I want him to know that even with that, I have no doubts about where this is headed.

“Willow?” he asks when we step through the threshold and into the bedroom. His bedroom.

I turn to him, dropping his hand and trying not to pass out with how quickly my breaths are coming now. The violent pounding of my heart takes over my body until I feel like I can hear the blood roaring through my veins. He takes a step forward, the warmth of his nearness bathing the front of me. We aren’t touching, but it feels like he’s consuming every inch of my body.

“Are you nervous right now?”

I nod.

“Tell me why.” His demand, steady and calm, gives me the courage I need to tell him. To open a vein and bleed my insecurities.

“I’m not perfect,” I whisper.

“And neither am I, Willow. I don’t want perfect. What so many see as perfect, to me, is fake. Perfect isn’t achievable naturally. No one, and I mean no one, is perfect.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even done speaking, but one long finger comes up and presses against my lips before I can speak.

“No, let me finish. There isn’t beauty in perfection. It’s as fake as the image the word projects. Beauty is found in imperfection, Willow, because to admit you’re not perfect means you’re admitting you’re not whole and absolute. When I think of myself, I see someone willing to admit he’s as far from complete as it gets because, in order to get to that perfection, I need to find the other part of me who will make my life better. To take all the faults I have and fill them, and only then will I be there. You see, the way I see it, the only way to become perfect is to find that perfectly imperfect person who brings it out of you.”

When he stops, I swear I might have stopped breathing. How am I supposed to respond to that?

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice strong and sure.

“Yes, Kane. Nerves or not, I do.”

“Then let me show you what I see when I look at you.”

He brings his hands up, framing my face once again in a way I’m quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of. His warm eyes implore, begging me without words to let him continue. I do not intend to stop him, regardless of the butterflies currently taking over my system. I’m all in.

When his lips touch mine, my whole body comes alive. My hands fist the soft cotton of his shirt, and I breathe him in. Our mouths move together, and when I feel his tongue sweep against my own, I moan deeply into his mouth. Each kiss we’ve shared before now feels like child’s play compared to the way he’s indulging in the taste of me—the same I am him.

It’s a slow build of power. Our desire rises with every twist and slide of our tongues. My hands release their hold of his shirt, and I slowly press them down, gliding against his cotton-covered muscles, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against my palms. My fingers tingle with each drag against his body.

Before I can move the hem and touch him the way I’m itching to, he spins me around and pulls my back to his front. His mouth returns to my body, and he presses softly against the sensitive skin just below my ear. My neck, branded in the heat of his wet kisses, has the tension of arousal coiling tighter and tighter with each slow drag.

“Your taste makes me feel like a drunk man, Willow,” he hums against the soft skin where my neck meets my shoulder. “I’m never going to get enough of it. Open your eyes, baby.”

I obey his command and gasp when I see he’s managed to move us in front of the mirror. The image of his large body behind mine makes it look as if he surrounds every inch of me. The heat combined with his kisses and hands makes me incapable of looking away from the image before me.

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off that mirror. Do you understand?”

I watch his lips move against my neck, my eyes moving from the erotic image up to his eyes, burning brightly, daring me to look away. I nod, but gasp only seconds later when the hands he had resting on my hips come up and start to unbutton my vest.

“This, this is so sexy. When I saw you earlier, all I could think about was what it would look like if you had just this on. The way your breasts would be on display for me to feast on. And I would feast until you were begging me, Willow. You would tell me how much you want me to move my mouth down your body as I pop each of these buttons open.”

His words end when he pulls the last of the three buttons open; he drags the garment from my body and drops it to the ground. His hands come up and cup each of my full and aching breasts.

“And then I turn those pleas into prayers when I deny you what you want until you’re as desperate for my touch as I am for yours.” He presses his hips into my back, his erection thick and heavy against me. “Only once I had you at the very edge would I dig my fingers in these hips I’ve been dreaming about and turn my mouth to the rest of you. I’ve been dreaming about having your thighs hugging my head for months, Willow. Months of wondering what you’ll taste like, how you’re going to scream my name when you come against my tongue, how you’re going to cry and plead for me to fill you.”

I gasp when his hands move from my hips and around to the button of my jeans. My eyes widen—not in fear or from nerves, but in anticipation. He laughs a wicked one full of promise, leaves my jeans, and before I can think of protesting, he pulls my shirt up and over my head, leaving me standing there in a barely-there black lace bra.

“Fuck me,” he rasps. “Beautiful.”

“Touch me,” I whisper huskily. Every word he’s spoken has created a web of confidence that wraps around me.

“I will.”

“Yes,” I pant.

“No.” His word is definite, but before I can let disappointment consume me, he does instead.

His deft fingers work quickly to snap the button and pull the zipper down, and then I feel his hand press into my jeans, cupping my core and rocking his hand against the wet material of my lace panties.

“You’re dripping for me, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes half-mast and full of lust. The hand not currently wreaking havoc to my senses moves from my hips and he cups my heavy breast, his thumb and finger pinching my erect nipple through the material of my bra. “Do you feel how badly I want you?” he questions, rocking against my body.

I nod and my head falls back to his shoulder, watching him through the mirror as his lip goes between his teeth, then I feel his own moan vibrating against my back.

“You’re stunning, Willow, but when I see you like … fuck.” His breath comes out in a harsh hiss, and I shudder against his hold. “When I look at you, I see a woman who could bring me to my knees in a second, but like this, you have me begging to stay there.”

I moan shamelessly when he slips my panties to the side and one long finger pushes into my heat, curling and pushing against the tight walls inside me. A rush of wetness follows when his thumb presses and rolls against my clit, and I cry out as the coil inside me wraps so tightly its pleasure is consuming every inch of my body. I’m so close to shattering into a million blissful pieces that my trembling body would fall to the floor if he weren’t holding me captive against his strong hold.

My eyes start to grow heavy and his protest rumbles against my back, the noise coming from deep within him. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, Willow. See what I see. Watch your body responding to my touch. See how beautiful you are to me.”

He adds another finger, pressing them both deep into my body, stretching while he thrusts them in time with the hips rocking against my back. His free hand comes up and presses just under my stomach. I tense for just a second, but that second was all he needed. He makes a noise of protest before those wicked fingers plunge in deep, the hand against me pulling me tightly to his body.

“Every sinful curve on your body makes my mouth water. I want to run my tongue over every inch of you, tasting and biting until you have no doubt that what makes you tense with apprehension makes my cock hard to the point of insanity. Your body is meant for mine, and there is no place in your mind for you to doubt that.”

“Please,” I plead, not even sure what I’m asking him.

His eyes fire and his hand travels up my stomach; the rough pads of his fingers against my soft skin until his fingers hook the cup of my bra and pull it down, freeing my breast to his eyes and touch. Seconds later, his groan of satisfaction is filling the air as one hand pinches and teases my nipple while his fingers continue to build me up on a crest of pleasure.

“Kane.” I gasp his name, my hand coming up to hold his wrist. He gives me a hard look assuming I’m going to pull him back, but I press against his arm and push him deeper into my body, finally losing the ability to hold myself up when he hits that spot deep inside me that has me crying out. This time his name isn’t a soft gasp of air, but a loud burst of noise that matches the power firing through my body.

I come, my wetness soaking his hand, and I watch, unable to look away, as he closes his eyes and lets out a moan of his own. His fingers continue to move and the waves upon waves of ecstasy rush over me until my lungs are straining for air.

When the last stream of pleasure leaves my body, his eyes burn into mine, and he tells me again in a command that leaves no room for bending, “Watch.”

His fingers give one more thrust before he pulls them from my heat. I watch with wide eyes as he brings them up and closes his lips around them. His eyes close and his moan is loud and sure.

“Fucking delicious,” he grinds out in a thick voice after licking the last of me off himself.