Discreet by Nicole French

21

Iawoke the next morning much like I had the day before: content and bathed in light. But the warmth that spread through me had little to do with the sun that was already warming up my small shack, and more to do with the long, golden limbs wrapped around me like trees roots. For the first time—maybe in my life—I didn’t feel like someone who was drifting. Will was becoming an anchor in my crazy life, and as the realization hit me, I released a long sigh.

This was what it felt like, I realized. Relief.

“Everything okay?” His voice rumbled against my cheek. “I can hear you thinking.”

I hummed as his hand slid down my naked body, coming to rest on my hip. “Just realizing that I’m happy. Here with you. I kind of forgot what that felt like.”

It was the truth. And maybe I had never really understood what it felt like to be happy with someone. I had spent most of my time in college running from a life I desperately wanted to escape, working to reinvent myself as Maggie Sharp, musician, rather than Ellie Sharp’s poor daughter. Even years after, when I first met Theo, that feeling of running, that tension with myself, had never really disappeared. And in the end it had gotten worse the longer I’d been with him, too.

Here with Will, the tension was gone. Mama, Theo, everything about the world that hurt so consistently, seemed to disappear when I was with him. With him, I was simply Lil. And I had never felt more like myself.

Will’s big body relaxed into mine. “Me too, Lil. Me too.”

I turned onto my side to face him. “How did you sleep?”

He stretched, his mouth spreading into a lazy grin that made my toes tingle. He really needed to smile more. He had no idea the kind of effect it had on me.

“Probably better than I have in a really, really long time,” he said as he pulled me close again. “Maybe I need to sell the house and live in a shack by the water too.”

I giggled as his nose burrowed under my hair. The soft kisses he pressed into my neck caused goose bumps all over my body, and the hand on my thigh slid inward, brushing against the soft hair there, broad fingers teasing.

I arched against his light touch, but even as I did, my body reminded me that I was in absolutely no condition for a fourth round of Will-style loving. I was right: Will did not sleep very soundly at all, but it seemed that he had found a remedy for it. Twice more in the night, he had woken me up with deceptively soft kisses, teasing shapes from my body that I didn’t know I could form, sounds I didn’t know I could make. He was insatiable, and so, apparently, was I, meeting him kiss for kiss, yank for yank, until we collapsed each time in a glowing mess of sweat and satisfaction, only to do it again mere hours later.

“Ohhhh, no,” I told him, pushing his hand as I rolled away. “I am way too sore for that this morning.”

He popped up on his forearms, caging me against the bed. “Is that so?” he asked mischievously as he pressed himself between my legs.

His warm body fit to mine, reminding me once more of just how good it felt to have this man inside me. We matched like jigsaw pieces, my subtle curves to his hardened lines. I welcomed where he demanded, like our bodies were cut to match. At the feel of him, long, ready, and seeking entry, my thighs opened of their own accord. But while Will captured my mouth with another one of his kisses that made it hard to think, I pushed him away regretfully. I wasn’t interested in living on ibuprofen for the rest of the day.

“Yes, that’s so, Baker,” I said, then gave him a quick peck and rolled out from underneath him. “A girl needs a little time to recuperate, unless you want me out of commission for more than a few hours.”

Will lay on his side, letting the sheets fall down his body, tenting over the part of him that apparently did not need a rest at all. He caught me staring at it, and gave a crooked little grin that almost had me ready to jump him all over again, sore lady parts be damned.

So instead, I focused on the parts of him that were a little less tempting.

“You need a haircut, do you know that?” I said as I turned around to pull a swimsuit out of my dresser. “You look like the Abominable Snowman.”

Going to sleep with wet hair had caused Will’s locks to matt and stick out at hilariously bad angles all around his face. He was still disgustingly handsome, but this wasn’t a good look.

Will snorted. “From the Claymation movies?” He watched appreciatively as I pulled on the spandex.

I nodded. “Minus the blue skin, pretty much. You scared the hell out of me when I first met you, you know.”

He stroked his beard, which had been trimmed again. “I cleaned up since then.”

“Not that hair. Babe, you’re practically sporting dreadlocks back there. And not the kind that anyone should ever have.”

Will pulled at one of the tangled strands on his shoulder. “Who’s going to cut it? I don’t want strangers touching my head, Maggie.”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t realize you were such a snob. But you know, I am the daughter of a hairdresser, dude. I’ll do it. If you dare let me.”

Will eyed me suspiciously. It made me want to smack him with a pillow and cover his face with kisses.

“I don’t know…” he said. “I’m very protective of my look, you see.” He mimed like he was fluffing his hair in the same way you might expect from an old-time movie actress. It was so antithetical to his unkempt looks I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yeah, you are a total prima donna,” I replied. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

Will grinned. It lit up the room so bright, I stumbled, even though I was currently standing still.

“I thought you liked my hair,” he argued. “You grab it whenever I kiss you. Or, you know, do other things to you.”

I rolled my eyes, but laughed when he caught my hand and pulled me back on the bed with him, trapping me once more against a pillow.

“Mmmm,” I moaned as his lips covered mine. “Will…Will!”

He tugged aside my suit and kissed down my neck.

“Don’t make me stop,” he said, the tip of him just barely sliding inside. Honestly, it was kind of hard not to take him once he was down there. That’s how big he was. “Please, baby. You have no idea. No fucking clue how much I need you right now.”

My mouth fell open as he pushed a little further, and my thighs opened without a thought. And of course my body, the traitorous thing, was totally ready for him, welcomed him deep in spite of the slight ache. He seated himself, setting his teeth on my neck as he did.

“Touch yourself,” he said against my skin as he began. “Please, baby. I’m—shit—I’m not going to last long.”

I had no choice but to obey, sliding a hand between us to feel that junction where our bodies met, where his skin slipped and skidded over my own. My fingers settled over the sensitive bundle of nerves that, together with Will’s movements, would set me alight in no time. At the feel of my fingers finding their rhythm, Will moaned into my neck.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice hot and heavy. “Fuck, baby, I can feel you squeezing me. Lil, you’re so…uhhh…you’re so damn tight!”

“Please,” I begged, though for what, I didn’t know. My body arched up, already knowing its path, knowing the direction it was going. A warmth, a glow was already emanating directly from our joining. We were a star, about to reach its supernova. A few more thrusts, a few more pulls, and together we’d explode.

“I want to feel you come,” Will said as he pushed slightly up to drive in harder. “I want to feel you squeeze my dick, baby.”

He bent his head down to take one of my nipples between his teeth. But instead of licking or sucking lightly, with a gentle touch the way most men would, he bit, just a little harder than was strictly necessary. The shock of pain was exactly what I needed. My fingers doubled their speed. My body tightened, clenched. And then it burst open.

“WILL!” I cried out, my hands falling to the side as my body seized up.

“Fuck, yes, baby,” Will shouted as he drilled further in. “That’s it, beautiful. Fucking hell that feels fucking good!”

His shoulders shook as he let go himself, shaking out the long release that seemed to take him several seconds, even a minute to complete. It allowed me to stretch mine out as long as I could until slowly, eventually, we both fell back to Earth together, safe once more in each other’s arms.

“Goddamn,” Will mumbled, his voice muffled in my hair. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

His body flattened atop mine, fully relaxed despite the mess I knew I’d need to clean up when he moved.

But now the morning sun was streaming inside in hot rays. And the unopened windows seemed that much more stifling than last night.

“Off,” I said, shoving at his side. “Hot.”

“Spoilsport.” Will sighed with regret, but finally rolled the other way off the bed and let the sheets drop from his naked body as he stood up. I practically had to wipe my chin.

“All right,” he said, making no attempt to cover himself as he searched the room for his now dry briefs. He located them, and spoke as he pulled them on. I curled into myself while I enjoyed the show. “How’s this for a plan: I swim with you across the lake, then you can maim me—I mean, cut my hair. But only in your suit, so I have something nice to look at. After that, we can come back and work on the property. If you think Lucas can handle it.”

I nodded happily. I didn’t really give a fig what Lucas would say about any of this. I was just thrilled that Will wanted to spend the day together as badly as I did.

When I said so, he stopped and grinned again, shining light through the cabin that was ten times brighter than any ray of sun.

“Haven’t you figured it out, yet?” he asked as he rubbed his nose against mine. “I’ll pretty much do whatever you want, Lily pad.”

I smiled into his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

One hour,one swim and a fairly naughty shower later (apparently I didn’t care that much about my sore parts), Will was sitting on a chair in the middle of his kitchen with an adorable frown on his face while I draped a towel around his shoulders.

“Look at this,” I admonished him as I combed out his thick mane. “When was the last time you brushed your hair? This is a rats’ nest, sir. It’s atrocious.”

Will sniffed, but kept his gaze pointed obediently at the floor. “I’ve been going for the mysterious mountain man look. It helps me play hard-to-get with the ladies.”

“I’m not sure your strategy is working,” I replied. “Look at what happened last night.”

He leered at me through the hair I’d combed flat on either side of his face. It was immensely unflattering, even for him.

“Maybe you should do it like this,” I said. “It’s brushed down, but with your hair in your face, you’re totally unfuckable.” It was a lie, but it was fun to rile him up.

Will sniffed and muttered something like, “More like unrecognizable.” But that didn’t make any sense.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied quickly. “Look, I actually like it long, all right? If you have to do this, keep it long enough to pull back. Nothing too short.”

I opened my mouth to argue that his cheekbones were dying to be shown off, and his hair kind of shrouded his good looks. But at the same time, I found that I agreed. Will’s hair was sort of synonymous with his character. It was impossible to imagine him with the short, average cut that most men would have.

“Just a trim and some shape,” I assured him as I continued combing out his waves, marveling at just how many shades of blond and brown there could be on one person’s head. His hair really was beautiful. I didn’t blame his vanity at all. “How about this?” I ran my hands over his beard, and Will hummed under my touch. “Would you ever let me shave this off?”

He twisted around, clearly appalled. “You don’t like the beard either?”

I hid a smile and shook my head. “No, it’s not that.” And it wasn’t. Though previously I’d never much liked men with facial hair, Will’s fit him. “I just…I want to see what you look like. I want to see your whole face.”

Slowly, Will and I were learning to bare ourselves to each other. I just wanted to see everything he was. I wanted to see his whole self, inside and out—whatever that was.

He blinked at me, then turned back around. “Maybe one day,” he said, though his tone wasn’t particularly optimistic. “But not today.”

I decided not to press my luck.

We remained comfortably silent while I snipped away at his hair. I hadn’t done it in years—not since college, when I used to cut boys’ hair in my dorm for extra cash. It was one of the skills Mama had given me, and not something I would forget easily, working meditatively through the layers.

“You all right down there?” I asked at one point, realizing it had been a good fifteen minutes since either of us had said a word.

“Yeah,” Will practically purred with a deep sigh. “Your touch just feels…good,” he murmured with closed eyes. “It feels…right.”

The word hovered in the air for a minute, but I was more shocked to discover how much I agreed with the sentiment than with the fact that he had said it. Will’s eyes opened, their green piercing through my confusion.

Hastily, I nodded. “Good,” I said, turning back to his hair. “Good.”

I continued snipping, letting my mind wander as I did. Not for the first time, I noticed just how nice his house really was. The paintings that scattered the walls were real, not cheap prints, and the mid-century modern furnishings were the kind that looked comfortable, but cost an arm and a leg in real life. I was no interior design whiz, but everything in the place seemed to be top-of-the-line. Which led me back to wondering just how he was able to afford it.

“Will?” I asked as I combed out another lock to cut.

“Hmmm?” His voice was thick with hazy contentment. He was really enjoying this, and I almost hated to ruin it.

“What did you do in New York?”

“Mmmm what?”

“For Benny Amaya,” I said as I snipped a few inches off the back. “What did you do with him?”

I couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders tensed visibly. “I…I was his assistant.”

I frowned. That made absolutely no sense. An assistant wouldn’t just take off the way Will had—not without throwing away an entire career. And he wouldn’t have had the means to live like this without a job for four years.

“Then how could you afford a place like this?” I pressed. “Why don’t you have to work?”

Will opened his eyes and twisted toward me. “What’s the likelihood that you’re going to let me be completely vague about this kind of thing?”

I tapped the closed tips of the scissors on the heel of my palm, like I was thinking. “Oh…slim to none.”

I tried to keep it light, but the truth was, I needed him to be totally honest. Will shoved me out of his house last night because he couldn’t deal with opening up to me. I needed to know that wouldn’t happen again.

Will sighed and turned back around. “I helped Benny promote stuff. But the money for this place came from…a trust fund,” he said. “I decided to put it to good use.”

Oh. So…Will was rich. And his parents were rich. And his people were…rich. Well, that certainly did explain the nice furnishings.

“So you took your trust fund and ran?” I asked before I could stop myself. But really. It was one thing to hate your parents, enough even that you couldn’t comfort your mother when her husband died. In my own way, I could kind of understand that. I had had plenty of moments with my own mother where enough was enough. But it was a total other thing to do it while accepting their money.

“I never said I was a good man, Maggie,” said Will quietly. “In fact, I think I keep telling you the opposite.”

I paused. He said it so matter-of-factly, it about broke my heart, especially since I knew the opposite to be true. Will was a good man—a very good man. If only he’d let himself acknowledge it.

“Then I know you better than you know yourself,” I said, coming around to bend down in front of him. I pulled strands of his hair on both sides to compare their lengths. “Because I don’t believe that for a minute.”

He caught my hand and pulled it around to kiss the palm, keeping his face pressed into the sensitive skin for a moment longer than was necessarily. “And you have no idea how grateful I am for that.”

He released my hand, and I went back to cutting his hair in silence. I didn’t press him any more on his decisions, and he didn’t offer.

“All right,” I said sometime later. “You’re done.” I brushed off the remainder of hair still on his towel, then pulled it off his shoulders and shook it onto the floor with the other clippings.

“I’m going to shower,” he said, shaking his hair side to side like a dog. “How do I look?”

I perused his big body—the way his hair now fell in gentle layers just to his shoulders, making the clean lines of his collarbones stand out in high relief over the flat planes of muscle and stacked abdominals. Good Lord. What had I just done?

“You look good,” I said, my voice suddenly thick.

Will’s gaze traveled up and down my body, still clad in only my swimsuit. It was a typical sport one-piece—certainly nothing even close to the skimpy bikinis that would be out all over the lake by midday. But I knew without looking that everything I had was standing at attention, plain for him to see.

“You sure you don’t want to join me, Lil?” he said. His gaze lingering over my breasts for a moment before dragging back up to my face. “The water’s warm, remember?”

I should have laughed. That was a seriously corny line. But Will’s expression, suddenly free of the heavy curtains of hair, carried absolutely no humor in it—only lust.

I cleared my throat. “I—I’m good, thanks.”

His mouth curved in another half smile. One that brought out a shadow of a dimple under his thick scruff.

“Shame,” he murmured as he turned toward the stairs. At the top, he stopped. “Before we go, I’ll give you a tour, all right?”

I looked up from where I was still trying to cool my rising body temperature. “Really?”

Will shrugged. “It’s the least I can do after kicking you out last night. I want you here, Lil. Everywhere.”

“Sounds good.”

I grinned, and when Will grinned back, I had to hold onto the counter to keep standing up straight. Maybe it was better the guy never smiled. He could do real damage with those pearly whites.