“I’m kind of afraid what ideas Dorian would have given you,” I said on a laugh.
And soon we moved on to other parts of conversations, and I did not look at my mother again. I would have to find a way to make this work. For our family, and for the tightening in my chest.
But not in the moment.
By the time the evening wore down, and we decided to go to bed slightly early because of the wedding, I said my goodbyes and made my way to my hotel room. As soon as I opened the door, I nearly screamed when I realized there was already someone in there.
Weston held up both hands, his Henley’s sleeves pulled up to show off his forearms, his jeans worn and fit to his body. He wore no shoes, and his hair was messy as if he had been running his hands through it over and over repeatedly.
And my heart couldn’t stop racing, and it had nothing to do with being scared.
“I texted you. I’m sorry, baby.” He moved forward and cupped my face even as the door snicked closed behind me. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault. You told me you would be here.”
He brushed his lips against mine, and just like that, the pressure in my chest eased, and I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“You taste like champagne and strawberries.” He brushed his lips against my jaw and bit down gently.
I shivered in his hold, my toes curling in my flats.
“I only had one glass, but it was a very good glass.”
“Aston said he was sending along the best.” Weston bit along my neck, sending quakes down my spine.
“How was dinner?” I asked. He had gone out to dinner with his siblings, a small vacation for the four of them before their lives changed once again.
“Damn good. That Thai place that Dorian suggested was perfect for us.”
“He’s really good at that. Though I do know that Theo offered up a spot in his reservations.”
I pulled back and blinked. “It is damn hard to get into the Teal Door,” I said, speaking of one of my brother’s fine dining restaurants.
“I guess it helps to know the family,” Weston said with a laugh.
“You should go.”
“Not with my siblings. I’ll take you though.”
A smile crossed my face. “Yes?”
“Yes. Because it’ll be fun fucking you with my fingers underneath the table when nobody’s watching. A nice fine dining restaurant, when I get to have my fill.”
My face heated, and I patted his chest.
“You are terrible.”
“That’s not what you said the last time I had my face on your pussy.”
“Because I like it when I’m riding your face.”
“Do you want to do that now?” he asked, and I pressed my thighs together, already wet thinking about it.
“Maybe.”
“First though, I have a present.”
“Is it your cock?” I asked in my most pleasant voice.