Page 62 of Never Been Worse

“Yeah,” I whisper into her neck. I knew it would be like this with her, all-consuming and soul-changing, but I don’t think I understood the magnitude of it as I continue sliding in and out of her, filling her with each thrust. Her legs move, wrapping around my hips, tightening to urge me on before her nails dig into me.

“More. Please, more,” she begs

“I don’t want to?—”

“Fuck me, Wes. Please, I need you.” That snaps my delicate tether on reality and common sense, and I pull out before slamming in. She moans loudly with that, head snapping back, back arching with all-consuming pleasure. I shift, placing my palms beside her head, caging her in. I hold her eyes as I start fucking her hard, pounding deep, giving in to what we both need.

“I’m close,” she whispers, something I knew because of the vise-like grip on my cock.

“I know,” I groan, grinding into her with my thrust. “I know. Me too.” I continue to fuck her, liking watching her hold off, waiting for me to let her fall. I never told her that was something I liked, having the control of her orgasm, but somehow, as seems to be her way, she just knew.

Finally, I can’t hold off much longer, so I groan as I pull out. “Now, baby.” Then I slam in deep, feeling her pussy spasm around me, her body going still as she comes apart, and I follow her, pushing in deeper as I come, moaning her name into her ear, knowing I’ll never say another name like this again in my life.

TWENTY-THREE

WES

I’ve been up for a while. I’m a morning person, always have been, something that for most of my life was a pain in the ass. It’s rough when you're in a band, going to bed at two in the morning, only for your body to wake you up at six.

But for once in my life, I’m grateful for this trait of mine. That’s because I’ve been lying here, Harper’s naked body curled up into mine, her breathing soft and easy as I rub a hand up and down her back, occasionally brushing her hair back and savoring this moment. I don’t know what version of her I’m going to have when she wakes: the one who jumped or the one who’s scared, but either way, I’m ready.

Because last night only cemented that I’m never letting Harper go.

Although the sex was fucking phenomenal, last night was about connecting with her on a deeper level, and the smile on her face while we cleaned up. It’s about how after, we stayed up late, laying together and talking about a future where there’s no pressure. It was about Harper’s walls finally tumbling down, about her fear abating for just long enough for me to slip in.

Aboutbeingwith her, truly and finally.

About Harper being officiallymine.

“Morning,” her voice says, croaking with sleep as she shifts.

I look down at her and smile, shaking my head.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I whisper, brushing her hair back again.

She blinks, and I think she may have fallen back asleep before her green eyes are on me once more, a smile on her lips.

“You seem serious,” she says before rolling on top of me, her bare chest to mine. My hands move again, shifting her hair and running them down her back. She sighs in pleasure, her eyes drifting shut with the gentle movement. She likes that, getting her hair played with, and if she wants to make that noise and face every time, I’ll do it forever.

“Just...thinking.”

“What about?” she asks, resting her chin on her hands folded on my chest. Looking down at her, I feel it again, that feeling like finally, I have that…thing I’ve been missing. Watching Stella and Riggins fall back in love made me yearn for a story of my own, wishing for someone to be that for me.

Except now I feel like I’m living my own story, like I’ve been blessed to find this person,my person, after so many years of thinking she didn’t exist. It’s a relief of sorts, but there’s a niggling feeling in the back of my head.

“I’ve spent the last few years feeling guilty,” I start to explain, then move my eyes to stare at the ceiling, avoiding Harper’s curious gaze.

“Guilty? How so?”

I look at her quickly, shaking my head to make sure she knows it isn’t about us.

“I live a life thousands of people wouldkillto live. Living my dream, touring the world, playing music. I have more money than I could ever need and spend every day with my best friends. I go out, I party, I can have any woman I want.”

“Excuse me?” Harper says cutting me off, humor in the world as she pinches my side.

“I only want you, little wife,” I whisper, eyes genuine as I brush her soft hair back. “But the last few years, it’s felt…routine. Boring. Like I was missing something.” Her breathing hitches as if she knows what I’m getting at, but I keep talking. “The parties lost their glimmer, lost their excitement after a while. These once-in-a-lifetime events turned ordinary. It’s a strange feeling, becoming numb to something another version of you would have given everything to have. But seeing you last night reminded me of howluckyI am.”

“You worked hard, honey,” she whispers, her hand reaching up to brush the backs of her fingers along my scruff.

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