Page 110 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

He shook his head. “That I can’t take credit for,” he admitted, taking his own bite of food. “Sebastian made the spaghetti noodles. I never got the hang of the homemade pasta like he did. I stick to the bolognese.”

“So Sebby can make lovely bouquets and cook? That’s so impressive!”

“Hmph,” he grunted, frowning and stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork.

I held in my laugh as I placed my hand on his forearm. “You’re an excellent cook as well,” I said. “And all the flowers you gave me were beautiful.”

I leaned forward out of my chair and kissed his cheek, then went back to my meal.

He seemed appeased by my words and my actions, and the rest of the meal passed by with us eating and laughing and talking about the days we’d spent apart since the beach.

“I still can’t believe Reid didn’t know who Tchaikovsky was.” I chuckled. I had my legs crossed underneath me, my shoes discarded under the table.

Wesley nodded, laughing too, his thumb rubbing my hand he held on top of the table. “I know. Nolan is still giving him a hard time for that one.”

I laughed again, then glanced at the clock in his kitchen, surprised that it was already after 09:00 p.m.

“Here,” I said, standing and grabbing both of our dishes. “Let me clean these before I go.”

I walked into the kitchen before he could say anything to stop me and felt him follow me. I turned on the sink and got the water hot, then worked on washing the dishes.

Wesley put the leftover food away and handed me his pots and pans as he did, working in tandem with me as we cleaned his kitchen, until his part was done, and he leaned against the wall, just watching me. I saw it then—saw a glimpse of us doing this together, night after night, first alone and then with little ones running around under our feet—and I almost dropped the glass in my hand from the shock of that thought.

A life. A future. A family. It was everything I’d always wanted but was too afraid to let myself dream of after Jack had his stroke. I didn’t want it with Lennox because everything with him always felt forced.

But it was different with Wesley. With him, I knew again that was exactly what I wanted, what he would give me when I was ready.

I turned the sink off and took a deep breath, closing my eyes and squeezing my shaky hands before drying them off.

The heat of Wesley’s body radiated into my back, and his hands worked their way from my hips to my thighs as he stepped up close behind me.

He brushed my long hair over one shoulder, and his breath tickled the back of my neck as he leaned in to kiss my bare skin. My head tilted back, resting against his chest as his left hand slipped inside the slit of my dress and then up my leg towards the spot I wanted him to touch the most.

A strangled noise left his chest as his fingers found my naked pussy, and his other hand gripped hard into my thigh. His hips pressed forward, and his nose slid up my neck to my ear.

“No panties?” he groaned, and I shuddered against him.

“I must have forgotten them,” I whispered.

“Liar.” He smiled. “Beautiful little liar.”

His lips met mine in a searing kiss, but he ended it before I could lose myself in it. I whimpered as he pulled away.

“What are you trying to do to me?” he asked.

He groaned again as I rubbed my ass against his hardening dick. I’d felt how hard he’d gotten during all our teasing and playing at the beach. I knew he’d rubbed one or more out after he dropped me off at home.

Before I could do anything else, though, he had me turned around and up in his arms, his hands under my skirt and gripping my bare ass. Our lips met again, and everything else disappeared. Every other thought gone from my mind save one.

Him. And being with him. Letting him take me in whatever way he wanted.

“Wesley,” I moaned out between kisses, vaguely aware he was moving through his house with my body wrapped around his.

My back hit the wall in the hallway, and he pressed one hand against it, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath. I rubbed myself against him, needing the friction, needing to feel something. My hands clutched at his shirt, trying to get it off him, to remove the barrier between his muscles and skin and my hands.

He let go of me and tore his shirt over his head, his hips pressing into me to hold me pinned against the wall. I raked my nails down his chest as his mouth found my neck, kissing, licking, and sucking at the sensitive flesh there.

The feel of his bare skin and the sensations from his mouth on my neck stoked the fire in my belly, making me yearn for more. My hands wrapped around his neck and up the back of his head, holding him there as he continued kissing me and moved us down the hall again.

---