Chapter 26
Blair
“Sit down,” Wes orders, pointing to the island when we step into the cabin.
Doing as I’m told, I head for one of the stools and take a seat.
The house is quiet. Is everyone asleep now?
No, probably not. Ledger’s probably on his laptop in the basement, checking for leads.
He’s been down there a lot lately. Santi’s personal truck is still parked beside the cabin so I know he must be here too.
Is he watching TV in his room? Rhett, I suppose he could be asleep—with the way he’s been drinking I’m surprised he even got up this morning.
I push all thoughts of them away for the moment. A feat I haven’t been able to do much of lately.
Wes moves to the refrigerator, opening it to pull out a plate wrapped in foil. Quickly, he tosses the foil away and places the plate in the microwave.
“You haven’t been eating in the mornings and you’ve only been picking at the dinners you’ve been here for,” Wes says, turning to face me while the meal warms up. “Why?”
I shrug. “Eating full meals like I have since arriving here isn’t actually the norm for me.”
“It’s not?”
With a shake of my head, I explain. “Growing up, I had learned to eat light because at any minute we’d have to run. I cramp really badly when there’s any food in my stomach and I’m on the run. It’s easier not to eat.”
“But you’re not on the run now,” Wes points out, crossing those thick, muscular arms over his chest as he watches me.
“No,” I agree.
I’m not running yet.
But that’s the plan. I’ve been found once, and it’ll happen again.
It won’t take long before the next threat comes.
Especially since this is the last place the previous hitman had been before his disappearance.
And before that, when I first arrived, both bodies—albeit charred—had been found in or around Caddawalk.
It won’t take a genius to pick up that this is where I’ve bunkered down.
Wes watches me closely. “So if you’re not running, why aren’t you eating?”
I don’t want to lie to him but I know Wes and Ledger are friends.
Anything I say will end up in Ledger’s ear, I just know it, and together, they’ll try to stop me.
The microwave dings, saving me from answering his question.
Wes pulls out the dish, grabs silverware and brings it over to the island.
Rather than place everything in front of me, he places it beside me.
He leaves to pour a glass of water then he returns to the island and sits beside me.
“My guess,” he starts as he cuts up the salmon and asparagus. “Is that you’re thinking it’s time to move on. Am I right?”
I stare at the food he’s breaking down into small pieces, opting to remain silent on the matter. Wes chuckles.
“I can tell you right now that if you left, the four of us would rip the world apart chasing after you.”
I snort in amusement. “I don’t think I’ve made that much of an impact on your lives. Especially not Rhett’s.”
“You’d be surprised,” Wes says simply as he puts down the utensils and looks over at me. “Rhett still has a moral compass. If he thought you were in trouble, he’d step up to help you. He may be an ass about it, but he’d still be there when you needed him.”
I don’t know about that.
I’ve seen the way he stares at Santi when Santi’s not looking, the heat and longing—dim, but there beneath the haze of cool detachment.
He loves Santi, he just doesn’t want to admit it.
And he works hard at his job, I’ve seen it myself the first week here.
I bet that has to do with impressing Ledger.
And when he and Wes chat at the end of the day, Rhett’s words are spoken a bit softer and there’s less tension humming through his body.
Rhett knows that Wes is a safe space, where he doesn’t have to be so guarded.
When it comes to me, however, there’s no love lost. He either outright glares at me or avoids me as much as possible, even before the fight the other day. There’s no one I trust less right now than Rhett.
Which is sad because I do see who he could be beneath his rough exterior and I like the possibility of that other side of Rhett coming to life.
“You’re probably not going to want to hear this,” Wes says slowly as he gives me a sheepish smile. “But you and Rhett are a lot alike.”
A scoff slips past my lips before I can stop it.
“I’m tempted to be offended,” I say, playfully affronted yet only half-joking.
Wes chuckles but then explains. “You both see yourself as separate from the rest of the world. Rhett exiled himself, but you were forcibly exiled by your father. Neither of you know how to be a part of it without the fear of failing somehow. For you, it’s failing to fit in and be accepted.
For Rhett, he’s scared of caring about anyone and having them ripped away again. ”
Well… shit. I guess I do see some parallels between us. A reluctant smile plays on my lips.
“I’m not sure which one of us would be more disgusted by how right you are, me or Rhett.”
Wes laughs out loud at this, his face brightening. “It’s hard to always be right, but someone has to be so I’ve taken up that torch.”
I laugh with him. As I do, some of the tension I’ve been carrying around with me ebbs away and my heart swells. How is Wes so good at reading people? It’s kind of scary… but I like it. I feel vulnerable yet safe with the large giant sitting beside me.
“Are you ready to hear how you’ve changed me?” he asks after we’ve both stopped laughing.
The mood in the room shifts, thickening with something pleasant but unnamed. I nod curiously. Wesley’s eyes grow hooded. He opens his arms out wide and beckons me.
“Come here.”
I hesitate, only for a second, though. In that second, I question my sanity.
This could be a bad idea. Haven’t I had so many of them already?
Shouldn't I be learning from my mistakes? Maybe, but I don’t stop as I climb off my stool and into Wes’s lap.
He adjusts me so that I’m straddling his legs, his between mine, and I’m facing the plate of food.
When I’m settled, he reaches for the fork, stabs a piece of salmon and brings it to my lips.
“Open up,” he orders, his voice growing deep and husky.
I shiver in response, my heart starting to race now. Doing as I’m told, I part my lips and let him feed me. I chew and swallow and Wesley hums his approval. Then he repeats himself, stabbing salmon and bringing it to my lips. This time, as I chew he leans forward and whispers into my ear.
“You’ve reminded me that I have a soul, Blair,” he murmurs. “I’ve been neglecting it, ignoring its presence for too long.”
His free arm wraps around my waist to pull me closer to his hard chest. He smells of woodchips, campfire, and chocolate.
It’s a perfect, calming scent and I want more of it.
I suck in a deep breath and in response, a shiver slides down my spine.
There’s no doubt that Wes can feel it, holding me as tight as he is.
“The first time I laid eyes on you, it was like waking up from a dream and realizing I’ve slept too long and wasted so much time.
I’m weak and hungry.” His voice shakes as he feeds me another bite.
It’s not until I close my lips around the salmon that he continues.
“It’s not a hunger that food will sate. It goes deeper than that, Blair.
This ache inside of me, it’s my soul telling me that it’s starving for something real.
I can feel it thrashing around, trying to reach the thing it craves the most.”
Wes shifts his hips and I can feel the length of him against my butt. My face heats and another shiver rushes down my spine. His lips skim across the back of my neck as Wes feeds me another bite of food, this time it’s garlic and cheesy asparagus.
“I want this,” Wes whispers as his arm, banded around my waist, shifts and his hand lands flat on my stomach. It trails upwards until he roughly grabs my breast.
I gasp in surprise. “Wes—”
“Shh,” he interrupts, kneading my breast as he leans forward to kiss my neck.
“You’re used to a semblance of control. But right now, you’re mine to take care of, Blair.
I’m in control and you’re going to love every second of it.
But you have to be a good girl, okay? I’ll give you what you want.
Better yet—I’ll give you what you need. All you have to do is relax and do as you’re told. ”
He feeds me another bite and I take it because I want to be good for Wes. I want to be his. I want to feel safe and in Wes’s arms, that’s what I am. Safe. Watched over. Protected. When he grips my breast harder, I groan and squirm in his lap.
“Everyday since your arrival, I’ve found myself floundering, not sure how to feed my soul.” His hand travels over to my other breast to grab and tease me. With his other hand, Wes feeds me another bite and waits until I’ve swallowed before continuing.
“And it’s only now that I realized how to feed it.”
“How?”
He hums thoughtfully before his hand slides down my chest and teases the waistband of my pants.
“Do you really want to know?” he whispers.
I nod. My breath catches as his fingers slip beneath my waistband. His hand cups my mound and I choke as the tips of his fingertips slide far enough down to tease my clit. When he applies pressure I shift my hips forward in an attempt to grind against his hand.
He chuckles. “That’s right, baby girl. I’ve got what you need. I’ve got you.”
Wes circles my clit as he offers me another bite of dinner. This time, too focused on the pleasure building between my legs, I turn my head away from the fork coming toward my face.
“No more food,” I object.
Wes’s fingers stop toying with my clit. I whine in protest and he chuckles in response.
“You want more, baby girl?” he asks. At my nod, he tuts. “Then you have to finish your dinner.”
“I’m not hungry for food, Wes.”