Page 40 of Darkened Truths
Yup. I’m screwed. Sex has never been like this, and I don’t think anyone else will compare.
TWENTY
RILEY
Having sex with Wesley tonight was definitely not on my Pointebreak bingo card, but I couldn’t have stopped it even if I tried. I like him. God, do I like him. Even over the course of a week, he’s changed how he acts around me. While Zander keeps his distance and only interacts when he needs to, and Julien is still his annoying brutish self—Wesley has become someone I feel I can rely on. And that scares me. I’m falling hard and fast for him. He’s the first guy since Rhys that I’ve felt like this with. And now I feel like a jerk for thinking of someone else after I just had the most mind blowing sex of my life.
He gets off the bed after the giggles subside to get a face cloth to clean me up. I really could use a shower, but this is a start. I lay still, my face flaming as he drags the warm cloth between my sore thighs. It’s so intimate, it should be illegal. Like we’ve crossed some invisible line we can’t uncross. He tosses it back in the bathroom, grabs some clothes from his drawer and gives me one of his large t-shirts to throw on as he pulls up a pair of boxers and lies on the bed.
I look down at it, unsure what this means. “Are you sure? I don’t mind going back to my room. I’m not sure the others would like that I’m here.”
He tucks some hair behind my ear and places a kiss to my lips. “Positive. Let me deal with them. Plus, you already told Ava you wouldn’t be home.”
He has a point; I just don’t want to cause any ripples between them. After pulling the soft fabric over my head, he pulls me against him on the bed. I curl up against his side and play with some tattoos I can reach. He has a lot of them. Most of them are black, but he has a few that are loaded with colors. It’s beautiful actually. Whoever the artist is did a fantastic job.
“Tell me something real,” he says.
There’s something in the way he says it, quiet and unguarded, that makes my heart twist. Like he needs to hear something honest to believe this. Like he wants to tether himself to me in a way that goes deeper than skin. And for a second, I want to give him that. Something true, just for him. Not the superficial crap, or the stuff everyone’s read in the newspaper or online about my family, but something specific to me. Something no one knows. After two killer orgasms, I feel like I could tell him practically anything. Orgasms must be a truth serum.
I go to speak, and James’ warning comes back to haunt me.Don’t trust too easily.Nothing about Wesley and his group of friends is easy. Nothing about my situation is easy, but he makes it bearable. And I hate the fact that I’m truly falling for this man, even though I know I shouldn’t. He’s going to cause nothing but heartbreak in my future. My father would never accept a man like Wesley. He doesn’t fit the cookie cutter image Michael likes to highlight.
“How about I go first?” He offers as my mind races through thought after thought. If left to my own devices, I’m sure I’d stumble down a rabbit hole and start rethinking every step I’ve taken since arriving here.
I clear my throat. “Sure.”
“As you wish,” he says as he nudges my shoulder. Then waits.
I draw my brows together as I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “Okay. Are you gonna tell me something?”
“I did.”
“Huh?” I ask again, confusion clouding every feature and thought.
“Princess Bride? The movie?”
I smile warmly, realization finally clicking. “Wesley,” I say with a fondness to my voice. He nods. “You’re named after Wesley from The Princess Bride?” Another gleeful giggle bubbles out of me and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling him.
“My mom loved the movie. My dad promised her if they had another boy, she could name him after Wesley.” His smile falters as he looks down at me.
“What about your brother?”
“Dead.” He speaks the word in the same sense. Dead. No emotion.
I kiss his chest and look up into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Wesley.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He looks up at the ceiling, his hand casually running up and down my back.
Shit, that got deep fast. I need to say something to get us away from this awkwardness. I want to know more, and I’m sure if, given the time, he’ll open up to me.
“My mom’s dead too.” I take a deep breath. “While that's well known, I have my doubts it was accidental.” I shudder and he holds me tighter, so I continue. If I share, maybe he will too. “She died when I was eight. It was a car accident. Rainy night, hard to see and all that jazz.” I grit my teeth to stop my chin from trembling and close my eyes, trying to remember the facts I’ve been told. “She was hit from behind and her car flipped a few times before landing in a ditch. Died instantly. Or that’s what I was told.”
“Jesus, Riley. I’m so sorry.” He pulls me tighter against him.
I hold my breath, warding off the tears that want to spill over. “I haven’t talked about my mom in so long, I’ve forgotten little things about her. Her smell, her smile, the songs she would sing me to sleep.” I smile sadly at the memory. “Dad bought me a music box with the lullaby she would sing to me, and I used that every night until I was ten.”
“What song?”
“Edelweiss,” I snort and laugh. Just talking about her, even the little things, brings a sense of relief, like a weight has been lifted from my chest. “Sorry.” I shift to sit up and he holds me against him.
