Page 78 of Back for More
“So,” Wes says as we stroll toward our respective parked cars, so slowly that it’s probably obvious we’re trying not to run. “My place?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“It’s an order.” He spins me around, pushes me up against my car, and kisses me so hard I can’t breathe, and I don’t need to because this kiss is giving me life. When he finally pulls away, he says, “Follow me.”
“Yeah,” I say with what’s left of my voice. “Consider yourself followed.”
When I pull up behind him in his driveway, I can’t help but feel like even though I’ve only been here a couple of times before, this feels so much more like coming home than it does when I park in the circular driveway out front or the garage in the alley behind the mansion. Wes waits for me and takes my hand as we walk up to his front door. I’m sure we’ll be more careful when we’re outside together once my father is back in town, but for now it is a small and treasured joy to be able to touch him like this when we’re not at work.
As he is shutting the front door and literally breathing down my neck, I say, “You need to feed the cat first…”
His shoulders slouch. “Right.” He shakes with laughter. “We’ve waited this long…” He goes to the kitchen, shaking his head.
While he’s in the kitchen, I stay where I am and quickly remove my blouse and skirt and shake out my hair. I am casually leaning against the wall by the door where we kissed that first time I was here, only this time I’m wearing a black lacy bra and panties with garter belt, silk stockings, and heels, like it’s no big deal.
“Okay,” I hear him say. “That’s one pussy taken care of. Where are you?”
When he steps into the foyer, I slowly unhook the garter clips from my stockings while staring at him. He clenches his jaw and his eyelids get heavy, and his voice gets so deep, I swear it hits my G-spot. “You’ve been wearing that under your clothes all this time?”
“Yes.” I blink innocently. “But I’m already on my third pair of panties for the day.”
I expect him to lunge for me, but he takes his sweet-ass time walking over while kissing my whole body with his eyes, and I am nothing but nerve endings and heat by the time he places one hand on my thigh, hiking that leg up. With his other hand, he lightly fingers the scalloped edges of my bra, and the impossibly hard bulge in his pants is pressed up against me. He dips his head to lick and suck at the exposed flesh of my breast. He slides his fingers inside me but just barely, making a guttural sound when he feels just how slippery it is in there. He stares down at my body, fully appreciating how this lingerie accentuates my curves. And I appreciate that he appreciates it. I do. But for Christ’s sake, I am trembling and sighing, and I have never begged for anything in my life, but all I can manage to say after a few minutes of this agony is, “Now, Wes. Please.”
I slap my hands over my eyes because he’s so gorgeously sexy when his nostrils are flared and he’s studying me like a naughty professor, I can’t look at him anymore. I hear his pants drop to the floor and he pushes my panties to the side, and he puts me out of my misery. Taking in a sharp breath, I wrap one leg around his, hook my arms through his arms, grab on to his shoulders, and ignore the picture frames that fall from the wall and crash to the floor. The whole house could come crashing down around us and I wouldn’t let go of him or let him stop fucking me, because this is my shelter now. Being this close to Wes protects me from everything.
His grunting and panting are a dirty, heavenly monologue, and I focus on it, memorizing it and interpreting it.To be or not to be with you like this—it’s not a question anymore.I’ve been on the brink of orgasm all day, so the shockwaves are already taking me over. I don’t know what he’s thinking about to keep from coming, but I never want this to end. I’ve seen Wes use his body and strength to carry and build and cultivate things, and I have loved watching all of it, even when I hated loving it so much, but now that he’s using it to plow me, I am quite sure that he was made for this. I know thatIwas made for this.
When his voice gets higher and his thrusts get faster, I hold on tighter and say a silent prayer that it feels as good for him when he has his release as it does for me.
It is so clear that we are both struggling to refrain from shouting out “I love you” when we come, but that’s okay. I don’t want any confusion for either of us the first time it’s said out loud. In English. He rests his forehead against mine while he catches his breath. He’s so vulnerable now, I feel a lump forming in my throat.
It seems insane that we held all this back for so long. All that distance I tried to keep between us, in miles and in obnoxious words, it has only served to propel me toward him even faster and farther now that I’ve let go.Snap, like a rubber band.The sting of impact is a delicious jolt, and I am finally awake.
I have this strange feeling that I might already have what I want, and I would do anything to keep it.
Wes wipes away a tear from my cheek before I’ve even realized that I’m crying.
Again.
I just can’t stop, it seems.
“Hey,” he says. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yes. So okay.”
“Good.”
“I’ve just been trying, for so long, to prove to myself that I can live without you, and I don’t know if…” My lower lip is quivering so hard, I can’t even finish the sentence.
He kisses my wet cheek. Once, twice, three times. “You can live without me. I just want you to want to live with me.”
“I do,” I whisper. “Oh God, yes, Wes, I do.”
