Page 49 of The Bookbinder's Guide to Love

Of course, the old man had been retired and that probably made it easier for him to develop his friendship with Sera. Wes didn’t want to wait until he was old to start having a life.

He’d thought he wasn’t like his dad, but he’d just picked a different career. Not a different life.

“It was so hard to write. I kept crying. I can’t believe he’s gone,” she said.

He took her hand in his. “Me either. I keep expecting him to stick his head around the corner and tell me a better way to do this.”

“Or offer me a cup of tea,” she said.

“Do you want one?” he asked.

“No. I have a nice buzz going and I don’t want to wreck it. For the first time since you let me know Ford was gone, I’m talking and thinking about him without crying.”

He hugged her. He felt the same way. He’d hated the years wasted cutting Grandpa out of his life because he’d been stubborn. Regret was a heavy sweatshirt around him. It was useless to indulge in it, but he couldn’t help himself.

What if he’d answered that email Grandpa had sent? What if he’d come back to Birch Lake before Grandpa died? What if he’d met Sera before he’d been an ass to her?

Wes couldn’t change any of that. He always had regrets. It seemed he spent as much time looking back as he did making mistakes.

Still, a part of him believed sending that letter hadn’t been a mistake. If he’d come to town sooner, maybe she wouldn’t have been the woman he’d met that morning in her shop.

“He lived a good long life, and whether he meant it or not, I’m glad I met you through him,” Wes said, refilling her wineglass and getting another beer for himself.

“Me too. You are totally not what I was expecting.”

“Same.”

She was so much better than anything he could have imagined. And that was why she was messing with his head, giving him all the feels. Interfering with that lonely bubble he’d been comfortably living in.

There was a mellow calmness sitting in this house next to Wes. He pulled her more fully into his arms, lifting her up onto the table and moving to stand between her legs. His erection was hard against the inside of her thigh, but his mouth on hers was gentle.

The table behind her was wooden but smooth and it creaked as he hit his hands on its surface next to her hips.

He took his time kissing her, exploring the recesses of her mouth. This kiss touched off small fires inside her. She slipped her hands under the back of his T-shirt, running them up his spine and pulling him closer to her. His hands were everywhere. His fingers found her nipples, circling them as his tongue made small patterns against hers.

She pushed her hands into his pants, feeling the scratch of the fabric as she cupped his butt and shifted around until she felt the ridge of his cock against her center. He tasted like wine and Wes. He lifted her up with one arm and pushed her sweats down her legs. She scissored until the pants were at her ankles and then kicked them off.

Wes pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside before stepping back and taking his off too. She leaned back on her elbows so she could see him better. Running her eyes down his body, taking in the muscles of his shoulders and arms, then moving down to his stomach and his hard-on. He stepped between her thighs and she shivered in anticipation, ready to feel him inside her again.

Him. Not his dick. Not sex just so she’d have an excuse to hold someone and not have to feel. This was all the feels centered around one man. She wanted to find a place to escape and hide to try to protect herself, but looking at him, she couldn’t.

He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Like the heroine of a book that was written about the two of them. All those fantasy heroines she’d ever been while lost in a book paled to what Wes made her feel. No book boyfriend could hold a candle to him in this moment.

But instead, he used his hands to hold her thighs open. She felt the warmth of his breath on her center and then his tongue on her clit. She reached for his head, gliding her fingers into his thick hair.

She rotated her hips, directing his tongue to the spot she wanted. He used one hand to hold himself up as the other moved over her body, fondling her belly button and then inching higher to pinch one of her nipples. She arched her back, everything building to a release inside her.

She shifted and reached lower to take his erection into her hand, stroking him and swiping her finger over the tip. She wanted more. She wanted his dick in her mouth while he was eating her out.

But she couldn’t get to it.

“Move around,” she said, her breath coming in gasps as his tongue kept flicking against her clit. She was almost coming.

“Not until you come...unless you don’t like this,” he said, taking the hand that had been pinching her nipple and thrusting his fingers inside her.

“It’s working,” she gasped out. Her pussy tightened, and as he thrust in and out she orgasmed around his fingers, tossing her head back on the table in bliss.

He moved over her as she was still pulsating as he thrust into her. He held himself there and she felt her body tightening around him. He brought his mouth down hard on hers, and he tasted of sex and Wes. He kept driving into her, harder and faster, and she wrapped her legs around him, lifting them higher to get him to go deeper.

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