Page 27 of Finding Home (Willow Valley #1)

TWENTY-SEVEN

CHLOE

I feel like I’m going to combust. The last week has been pure torture.

Ever since my trip to West Bridgejaw, Everett and I have been flirty with each other, and I swear there were a few times he was going to kiss me.

He’s asked to practice braiding more, and I showed him how to french braid.

We’ve spend a few nights with me sitting between his legs as he’s brushed my hair and braided it, and I’ve wanted to curl up in his arms after each one.

Instead, I headed to my room where I got myself off to thoughts of Everett before wrapping myself around pillows, wishing it was him.

It’s the last weekend before Mrs. Simpson’s surgery, and she insisted on taking Lila for the weekend.

She picked her up from school today, and Everett will pick her up Sunday night.

I’m heading to Incahoots tonight for Colton’s birthday, and hopefully I can crash at Brinley’s after, because I don’t know how much longer I can take flirting with Everett.

It’s loud as I push open the door to Incahoots. There’s live music and so many people packed in here that you have to raise your voice to be heard. I find Colton near the front of the dance floor and hug him.

“Happy birthday,” I yell over the music.

“Thanks.” He looks at me. “Where’s your drink?”

“Just got here. ”

He nods. “Go get a drink. You owe me a dance or two tonight. Don’t think I’m letting you leave without those.”

I grin. “As long as you think you can keep up.”

His grin is wicked, and I make my way to the bar, grabbing a drink and taking in the room.

I find Ryder and the girls off to the side and join them.

We’re a couple drinks in, dancing and laughing, when Brinley elbows me in the side and lifts her chin to the bar.

I turn to look and spot Everett leaning against it, watching us.

I hold his eyes across the room as if it’s just us as he takes a sip of his beer.

He doesn’t move, just stands there staring at me.

I huff and turn away, dancing with my friends.

As the song changes, Colton comes up and offers me his hand.

I take it, and he spins me into him, pulling a giggle from me.

We easily slip into the moves, and I’m grinning from ear to ear when he spins me out and a set of hands grab my waist. I look up until I meet Everett’s eyes.

He takes over the moves, and I follow him.

“I was dancing with someone,” I say indignantly.

“I saw,” he grunts.

“You could have asked for a dance.”

He spins me, but I notice how his hold on my hand tightens like he doesn’t want someone taking me away the same way he took me from Colton.

“Or I could have done this,” he says.

When the song ends, I go to step away, but his grip on me tightens again.

“I’m going to dance with Colton. You kind of stole me away mid-song.” When he doesn’t let go, I whirl on him. “What the fuck is wrong with you right now?”

He raises a brow but doesn’t say anything.

“Why won’t you let me go?”

He steps closer until I feel his breath dance across my cheek. “Because I don’t like seeing someone else’s hands on you.”

I jolt back and glare at him. “You don’t get to have some possessive moment over me.

” I lower my voice so only he can hear me.

“We fucked once , that’s all.” I step back.

“I’m not your girlfriend. You made no moves for anything more than text flirting or flirting in your kitchen.

You want to get possessive and grumpy, prove that you have a reason.

Until then, I’m going to dance and go out with whoever I want. ”

My chest is heaving as I spew all of that out, and I feel so much better. He stares at me, and I turn to walk away when his hand comes to the back of my neck, stopping me. My heart is racing, and I close my eyes, hoping this means what I think it does.

He spins me to face him again, his hand still on the back of my neck as he pulls me in close until our lips are only centimetres apart. He growls one word before his lips are crashing to mine in the middle of the dance floor.

“ Mine .”

I melt into him as he takes control of the kiss. My arms wrap around his neck as his hands find my ass. His kiss is possessive, like he’s trying to use his lips and tongue to brand every part of my mouth with the word mine .

He nips at my bottom lip, and I moan. I want him to pick me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. I want to climb him like a fucking tree. Now that the tension has finally snapped, it’s consuming me like a fire, burning every piece of oxygen, every piece of me until nothing is left.

High-pitched whistles and cheering pull me out of the fog enough for the reality of what just happened to hit me. We’re standing in the middle of Incahoots making out like a couple of love-sick teenagers. I’m panting and staring at him. His expression gives away nothing about what he’s thinking.

He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m getting you out of here and into my bed.”

“Yes,” I moan, and he grabs my hand and starts leading me out, but I stop him. “I have to let Brin know I’m leaving.”

He looks over the crowd and calls her name, but I notice she’s already looking at us, a stupid triumphant grin on her face. He does something I miss, and she gives him two thumbs-up.

“Let’s go,” he says, finally dragging me outside.

He leads me to his truck, helping me in the passenger seat before he rounds the truck and starts it. The drive gives me enough time to get in my head and start thinking what the fuck is happening ?

When we get back to the house, he helps me out and doesn’t drop my hand as we make our way inside.

He pins me against the door, but before his lips can find mine, I’m doing something stupid and stopping him. He pulls back and assesses me. He doesn’t push, just gives me time to gather my thoughts to say what I want to.

“I don’t want to just be some fuck,” I finally settle on.

He closes the distance between us, our noses touching as he holds my eyes.

“Do you really think I’d spend my nights brushing and braiding your hair if you were just some fuck?

Do you think I’d have a note in my phone of all the little things you like if you were just some fuck?

” My breath catches at his admissions, but he presses on, not giving me time to process them.

“Chloe, I’ve fought this for far too long, and I’m done fighting it.

So unless you tell me you don’t want to, I plan to kiss you again, and then I plan to take you to my bed where I have every intention of keeping you up all night as I make you come over and over, calling my name. ”

I close the distance between us, fusing my lips to his, and he groans. I jump, and he catches me as I wrap my legs around his waist and he presses me against the door. His erection presses against my centre, and I break the kiss as a moan leaves me.

“Bed,” I mutter, and Everett is spinning and carrying me up the stairs as I trail kisses across his face and down his neck.

He drops me on the bed and says, “Strip.”

I quickly shove my leggings and panties down my legs, toss my shirt to the side, and unclip my bra, my breasts bouncing free.

“Even better than the first time,” he says, running a hand down his face.

“Your turn. If I’m naked, so are you,” I say.

He smirks and takes his shirt off before undoing his belt and jeans and pushing them down his legs. The ache between my legs is too much to ignore right now. My hand snakes between my breasts and down my stomach, my finger finding my clit.

He groans. “Spread yourself open for me, North. Show me how you please your greedy pussy.”

I do exactly as he says, using two fingers to hold myself open and another to circle my clit. “Oh, God,” I moan.

“No,” he practically barks. “You may be the one playing with your pussy, but you’re playing with it for me . You moan my name.”

“ Fuck , Everett,” I say as my finger picks up speed. It dips down, and I push it inside myself.

Everett wraps his hand around his cock, giving it long sure strokes. “You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

My entire body heats as a blush spreads across my skin.

“I’m close,” I moan.

“Good girl. Come for me, Chloe. Come all over your fingers as you call my name.”

His instructions do it, they send me over the edge, my back arching off the bed as my orgasm tears through me and I call his name.

When I look at him again, the feral look on his face has the ache between my legs growing again and tells me I’m in for it tonight.