Chapter Forty-Three

Blake

T his is not going the way I'd assumed it would, but I also realize that if it bothers her this much, then she needs to get through it. She needs to explain what has happened to her, and at the same time, she wants to me to hear it. I'm going to sit here and listen. "This is not going to change a damn thing about the way I feel for you, but I hear you. I hear that you need to get this out, and I am right here to listen to you, Wills."

Her chest is moving up and down at a faster rate than I'm comfortable with. Reaching out, I place one hand on her chest, and with my other, I grip her chin. "Take a deep breath. In and out. Nothing between us changes, baby. I love you."

Finally, she gathers herself, squaring her shoulders, as if she's snapping into the alter-ego she uses on stage.

"Hey." I tilt her head back, so that our eyes can meet. "Don't become that person that you show to the world, the one that you become when things are going to shit and you need to put on a brave face. You do not have to do that with me. I want the good, the bad, the absolute fuckin' ugly, Will."

That mask goes off, and the tears start. "I miscarried by myself during the height of the pandemic because my ex-boyfriend didn't want the baby and was happy. Meanwhile, I was devastated. I lost a lot in that moment, including parts of myself, mentally and physically. I developed an infection, which resulted in me only having one ovary and one fallopian tube. It's not impossible for me to get pregnant, but it's going to be hard"

My heart breaks for her as tears stream down her face. I reach up, wiping them away. "I want a family—there's no doubt about that. I've always wanted kids. However, there are many ways for us to do that. If it can't happen naturally, then we can explore other options. We can adopt; we can investigate medical procedures. There are so many options, Willa. None of that matters to me—all that matters is that I have a life with you. That's the most important thing. I love you. There's nothing else..."

She sniffles, those blue eyes of hers shining brightly. "I love you too, and if none of this has scared you away, then I would absolutely love to be your wife, Blake Whitfield."

I let out the breath I've been holding and reach over to the side table, picking up the ring box I put there before this started. I pull the top off the box and put it in front of her line of vision. "I hope you love this."

Her gasp goes through her body so hard that I feel it. "Blake, it's gorgeous."

"I thought about it a lot." I clear my throat, getting emotional as tears shine in her eyes. "About what you'd like to wear on your finger, and what I'd like to see there. I knew it wasn't a diamond. While that's classic, it's not you. I researched, believe it or not."

She laughs; it's choked with sobs, and full of passion. "Tell me what this is, and why you got it for me?"

"It's moss agate." I swallow hard. "It encourages tranquility and emotional balance. I know as a songwriter, and someone who feels the way you do, that balance is hard for you sometimes, and I want to be a help for that instead of a hindrance."

Her smile is as bright as the ring when I slip it on her finger.

"Thank you for loving me, and everything that comes along with it," she says.

"It's not hard, Wills, and if I teach you anything in this relationship, I hope it's that you aren't hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done in my life." And those are the most truthful words I have ever spoken.

"I love you, Blake."

"I love you too."

Our eyes meet and the air between us crackles as we gaze at one another. Reaching forward, I wrap my hand around her neck and pulls her lips to mine. There's not much in this world I like more than to taste her kiss. After running my free hand up her thigh, I press it underneath the T-shirt she's wearing. "Can we get this T-shirt off of you, and celebrate Christmas the right way?"

She giggles, slipping the shirt up and over her head, showing me that she isn't wearing anything underneath it. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," I groan. "It's everything I wanted, and if I have my way we'll be celebrating every single holiday like this from now until the end of our time on earth."

"God, Blake. It's a good thing not many people know what you're really like—how sweet you are, and how much you care about others. They'd be fighting me for you, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be America's sweetheart anymore. I'd have to show my claws."

To know she'd do that for me? It means more to me than I'd ever imagined it would. "Please, baby, fight for me. I'll fight for you."

"Always, Blake Whitfield. I'll constantly fight for you. For us."

Willa

My arms are wrapped around Blake's neck as he flips me over onto my back. Spreading my thighs, I make space for him in between them and wait for him to show me exactly what he's about to do. His mouth is attached to my neck, making a meal out of my flesh, and it's everything I've been thinking about since the last time we were able to do this.

I pull away from him, giving him a look, because he's being a bit more serious than normal. "What are you thinking?" I question softly.

"That I'm about to fuck my fiancee, and I can't imagine how hot it's going to be when I can call you wife."

That's hotter than it should be—maybe because I'm a modern woman who appreciates being independent and doing things for herself. However, I'm also the type of woman who can highly appreciate that her man is about to turn her out, and I'm going to enjoy the fuck outta that.

I reach down and encircle my hand around his cock. Although this moment is hot, there's a part of me that wants this to be as sweet as can be. His large hand holds the top of my head as he moves down my body, placing kisses here and there. He shifts my clothes away as well as his with each kiss.

When we're naked, he drags his tongue down my sternum, straight to the middle of my body. Hooking my thighs over his shoulders, he dives in between them, and before I can say anything his tongue is making contact with my clit. "Holy shit, Blake." I blow out a breath. "I didn't expect that."

He looks up. "I know. I like to keep you on your toes—or your knees."

Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I laugh. But it's a laugh mixed with a sigh as he goes back in. "Oh my god..."

I close my eyes when he uses his thumbs to pull the lips of my pussy back, exposing my clit. Pressing up into him, I rock my hips back and forth before digging my fingers in his hair, holding him there.

"Blake..." I whimper. "Sometimes when I see you stick your tongue out on the field, I think about this and the things you do to me."

There's not a sound between us other than grunting, groaning, and passion. I used to worry about what people would think if they knew how I liked sex, and what I wanted a man to do for me, but Blake? He doesn't make me feel any other way than normal. It's important, this part of our lives, and I always want to be honest with him.

At my thigh, his cock is leaving a trail of moisture as he runs his tongue along my slit, preparing me for when he finally enters. Reaching down, I grab hold of his dick and start pumping.

"Willa, I'm strong, but not when you touch me like this."

"You don't have to be." I drag him up, hooking my thighs around his waist. "I'm ready." Tilting my head back, I let him take me, moaning as his length invades my body.

Together we thrust, a push and pull, and while I've had sex with others, it's never been as complete as it is with him. Gasping as he grinds into me, I hold on, and he takes me for a ride that'll haunt me when he's not around. It'll keep me going when we have to be apart.

These are the moments that make life worth it.