Page 30 of All the Promises We Break

“I ask you out here to talk and you accuse me of bait and switch? Let me make it clear. That’s not what this is.”

“There’s athis?”

“God dammit,” he growls, as he lifts me off the ground and folds me over his shoulder.

“What the actual fuck!? Put me down.”

“Shut it.”

Wes marches off into the full darkness of the middle of the yard. He doesn’t stop until we hit the oak tree. This oak has been here for about a hundred years or more. The trunk is as stable as our family is. We always joke about how there were Sawyers here before us.

I’m set on my feet and attempt to come out swinging. Wes knew I would, so he holds my elbows tight to my sides as he backs me up into the bark of the tree. “Shut up,” he growls again, even though I’m not saying anything. He stands there, his warm breath brushes against my cheek.

His body reads fire. His eyes read something deeper.

I growl back, “Make me.”

Wes slaps the tree about a foot above my head, turns, and walks away. Stunned, I’m frozen in place. He stalks about ten feet then says two words I didn’t think he would say.

“Fuck it.”

He storms back to me, pinning my body to the tree with his. He slides his hand up the left side of my neck. His fingers tuck into the small space left by the curve and he devours my lips in what feels like a fit of rage. His other hand moves into position on the part of the tree he slapped seconds ago.

I want to touch him, but I also don’t want to have him reject me. His body grinds against me in a way I haven’t felt before. When we kissed on the couch, he was so soft and tender. It was like dragging a feather across my skin. When we kissed in the driveway, we took it up a notch.

He gripped me like a life jacket or something. He was drowning but he wasn’t. This… this is, for me, like the feeling I get when I’m watching a movie and I wait and wait for that first explosive kiss between the hero and heroine. You’re on the edge of your seat, then wham! It hits you like a lightning bolt and the electricity moves up and down your body.

Instead of my hands doing the talking, I let my body interpret instead. The harder he pushes against me, the harder I push back. Our bodies feel like they’re almost connecting in the way they would if we were naked. He grinds against me. I can feel the rough bark leaving imprints in my back. I can feel him imprinting everywhere. My neck. My lips. My chest and lower still. I can hardly breathe but in a good way.

His last words to me were fuck it. If that’s how he feels…

I gather enough courage to touch him. The belt loops of his jeans are what I find first. I wrap my fingers tight around them and pull. His cock hits differently than it has during this danceso far. It shocks the hell out of me and feels so good at the same time. I can’t hold back how I feel anymore.

If anyone had been within ten feet of us they could have heard me moan against his lips. I can feel my own pulse between my thighs. Every thought I’ve never had before is rushing through my head. What would he look like naked? What different positions would feel good? How would he feel inside me?

I feel like I could explode at any given second. Just as I decide I will let my body do whatever it wants, Wes eases away from me. His hand that was above me over the tree slowly descends to the back of his head. The one that was cradling my neck is now covering his mouth, which for once is in a stunned silence.

I’m left a panting, near orgasmic mess, leaning against the oak tree that used to hold my tire swing as a little girl. “What did I just do?” he asks.

Before I can answer, I have to swallow hard about three times. One, to remember who I am. Two, to remember where I am. Three, to find words that make a sentence. “If… if you don’t know, we’re in bigger trouble than I thought.”

“This isn’t funny, Hayley. Nothing about this is funny.”

“What are you afraid of, Wes? My parents? Eli? What? What are you so fucking afraid of?”

“Me!” he shouts. “I’m afraid of hurting you. God dammit. If you were ever hurt because of something I did, I’d never forgive myself. I know who I am, I’m not the guy for you, even for a fling.”

“Is that what you want? A fling?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Fucking hell.”

He’s torturing himself and we haven’t even done anything yet really. “Come here.”

“I can’t be close to you right now.”

“Well, I’d think that would be safer than being picked up in the motion lights and having to explain why you look like you do, and me being with you while it’s happening.”

He looks down then turns his back. “Jesus Christ, Hayley.”

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