Chapter 14
Bailey
I’m closing up the coffee stand by myself because I sent Jenn home since we weren’t very busy for the last couple of hours.
My phone goes off, and I look at it without thinking about who it could be. The second I realize it’s Wes I freeze. This man is haunting me, the ghost of his touch specifically. I should end it all right here and now. And then move, because I clearly can’t be trusted.
Wes: Ready to play, Angel?
Bailey: Whatever game you’re trying to play I’m not interested.
Wes: Say the word to end this then.
My fingers hover over the screen, right over the S and U. But I can’t bring myself to type the word. Instead of saying anything, I lock the screen, tucking my phone in my back pocket while I finish cleaning up so I can leave for the day.
Of course, when I pull up to my house I see Wes’s car in his driveway, so I quickly run inside hoping to avoid getting caught by him.
I let out a sigh of relief as I close and lock my front door.
It’s ridiculous that I feel like I need to do this.
It seems so silly to be running and hiding in my house just because an attractive man wants to drive me crazy, especially because my entire childhood was spent running and hiding for safety.
The yelling starts. First it’s my parents, and then Brandon starts yelling back.
I freeze in the chair I’m sitting in at the overflowing dining table as I try to eat my cereal.
My stomach is growling. I managed to find some stale cereal that doesn’t taste very good, but it will have to do.
We didn’t have any milk, so I have to eat it dry.
“Bailey.” Bryson steps in front of me, blocking the view of my screaming family members. “Go join Brynn in the bedroom.”
“But I’m hungry,” I whine.
“Take it with you.” He grabs the bowl, and pulls me from my seat, though I try to protest as he drags me to the bedroom where Brynn is already sitting on the bed with her hands over her ears.
I want to ask where Brent is because he always helps us, and he isn’t mean about it.
I think he’s at practice; he’s been doing that a lot lately.
Hockey has become his life, and we don’t matter as much anymore.
Bryson slams the door after pushing my bowl into my hand and I struggle to hold onto it.
I want to go out there and scream at all of them, especially when I see Brynn press her hands harder against her ears and the single tear that rolls down her cheek.
With a sigh, I climb onto the bed next to my sister, and share my cereal with her while I hug her against me.
“I just want them to stop,” she cries.
The yelling is getting worse and I hear something crash, so I hold Brynn even tighter.
“Me too,” I say quietly. Probably too quiet for her to hear, but I’m sure she knows. We all want it to stop. We all want to just be normal, but that’s not the world for the Collee kids. We were born to struggle.
The pounding on my door pulls me out of the memory, and makes my heart race. My fight or flight reflexes kick in while I try to bring myself back to the present. Where I’m safe and no one knows where I am to find me. Not that they would even care to.
There’s another harsh knock. I furrow my brow, turning toward the front door and opening it where I’m greeted with a sight I did not expect.
Wes stands there, tall, imposing, and intimidating with that permanent scowl on his face while he looks at me like I’ve pissed him off already when I’ve hardly done anything. The way he’s glaring at me immediately has me on guard. Especially when he pushes past me without a single word.
“What the fuck? I did not say you could come in,” I snap.
“I’m not a vampire that needs to be invited in.”
“You are breaking and entering, though. Get out.”
“Angel, you don’t make the rules here. Until you say the word, you’re agreeing to my terms and to my rules.”
I clench my jaw, wanting to argue, but the hum between my thighs at his harsh tone has me questioning several things about myself at this moment. Just like every other time we’re together apparently and my body responds in ways it shouldn’t.
I get a whiff of a scent that has my nose scrunching. “You smell like a horse farm.”
“Probably because I did some work at one earlier.”
“Didn’t take you for a cowboy.”
“I’m not one.”
“Great, well you smell. Leave.”
Wes looks around, and then smirks. “You have a shower.”
“And you’re not welcome in it.”
He steps toward me, and I narrow my eyes at him even more, but don’t step back.
“You don’t make the rules. You can join me, or you can wait for me to be done. Up to you.” He walks past me, further into my house. I know he knows where the bathroom is because his house is the same floor plan as mine from what I can tell online. Not that I’ve looked, of course.
Part of me doesn’t think he’s actually going to do it. But when I hear his heavy steps on my stairs followed by the sound of the water turning on in my bathroom I realize he really means it.
Somehow, I find myself following in his footsteps.
It’s like I’m in a trance as I reach the top of the stairs, and move toward the bathroom.
The door is wide open, and I’m standing in the doorframe as Wes reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head revealing his toned back.
The way his muscles move as he goes to undo his pants. I can’t look away.
His back is facing me, but I know he can tell I’m here. Neither of us say anything as the water pelts against the tiles of my shower, and my neighbor strips completely in front of me.
I’m frozen, but can’t look away. Definitely not when he pushes his jeans down.
I follow his hands with my eyes. They catch on the long line of marred skin on his leg.
There’s clearly a story there. I don’t know much about his past other than he’s a veteran.
Whatever happened looks like it was really bad.
I look away and back up, seeing he’s completely naked and stepping into my shower.
I hold back a gasp.
All the memories from that first and only night together come roaring back as I remember how it felt to have his strong body on mine. The same body that’s now in my shower with the water coating his skin.
“You better join me, Angel.” His voice is deep, gruff and it makes me want to argue with his tone.
I scoff. “I’ll pass.”
He turns around, and I bite back my reaction to seeing him fully.
His muscled chest is honed over years of hard work, and tattoos cover one arm completely.
His dick isn’t even fully hard and yet I can see his size.
I can remember how it felt, and how I’ve never felt more full than I did when he was inside me.
His face is passive as he looks at me, but his tone is serious when he speaks again. “Get in here. On your knees.”
“Clothed?” I respond sarcastically.
He looks me up and down, shrugs, then turns back around.
I want to do it just to spite him. But I remember his text from earlier.
Ready to play, Angel?
This has to be a part of his game, and maybe, just this once, I want to see what would happen.
I start to strip my own clothes off, fighting the little voice in my head that’s yelling at me for giving in. I’m sure I’ll fight with myself about this later. Right now, I step into the steamed up space, completely naked with a man I swore I wouldn’t touch again.
Wes turns around, looking me over, but doesn’t say anything other than, “I said on your knees.”
I look down at the tile, not missing the way his dick is standing at attention and I smirk. My knees are preemptively protesting about the hard surface, but I look back up to Wes’s deep brown eyes, keeping them there as I sink down.
“So fucking pretty when you listen to me,” he praises, and my mouth twists.
“Don’t make me regret it.”
“Still such a brat, though. It’s almost like you want to be punished.”
“Bite me.” I smile sarcastically.
“With pleasure.” He steps closer to me, his cock less than an inch from my face. “But right now you’re going to put your mouth to good use. Take what I give you and maybe this time I’ll let you come. If you deserve it.”
I want to squeak out a protest, but the throbbing between my thighs and the way my mouth waters at the sight in front of me stops any words from coming out.
Instead, I drop my jaw, sticking my tongue out while keeping my eyes on him.
“Now that’s a good girl.”
He closes the last little bit of distance, sliding his fingers through my hair, tangling them at the back of my head, and guiding my open mouth onto his length. I moan as the weight of him hits my tongue, and his grip in my hair tightens at the same time.
The mist and steam from the warm water surrounds us while Wes blocks most of the spray with his large body. I keep my eyes up, watching the way his stomach tenses, how his muscles bunch and I clench my thighs together at the sight.
This towering, intimidating man holding onto me roughly while I lick the underside of his dick has my body reacting, begging to touch myself.
I squirm, sliding my hand between my thighs while wrapping the other around the base of his length where my mouth can’t reach.
“Aw look at you, Angel. Your little pussy getting wet from this?”
I hum, pulling back slightly before pushing further to get more of him into my throat.
“You can touch yourself, but you can only come when I say you can.”
I narrow my eyes up at him, and he yanks me off him by the grip he’s got on my hair. I pant at the loss, my mouth watering as he bends over to bring our faces closer together.
“Don’t give me attitude or I won’t let you come at all. Now, if you listen and do what you’re told, then maybe you’ll get what you want.”
I run my tongue along my bottom lip to tease him, and he watches the movement intently.
I almost think he’s going to close the distance between our mouths.
It’s one of the few things we haven’t done, even that first night together.
His mouth has been on other parts of my body, but we have yet to kiss.
Instead of changing that now, he stands up again, roughly guiding my mouth back onto his erection. I go willingly, wanting to do what he asks because the desire to come is clouding my mind.
“Touch yourself, Angel. Show me how wet you are from having your mouth so full of me.”
I let out a small whimper, dipping my hand between my legs, then lifting my fingers up to do what he asked.
To show him exactly what he wants to see.
I could play it off and pretend like my body isn’t screaming for release, or that he’s not the cause of it.
But I want to see what will happen if I give in. Just this once.
Wes grabs my wrist, thrusting forward, pushing himself deeper into my throat making me gag, but he pulls back. I gasp for air right before he sucks my fingers into his mouth, licking my arousal from them.
“Fuck, I hope you decide to be good so I can taste more of you again.”
Something about the way he growls the words, or the way he grips my hair, thrusting into my mouth has me seriously concerned about spontaneous combustion.
“Make your pretty little pussy feel good,” he grinds out, and I’m not about to question anything.
I hold onto Wes as he uses my mouth, all while I rub myself. Normally I want the teasing, but not this time. I like the way he’s using me. I don’t know how long he’ll allow me to touch myself and I’m not about to waste it because I need to come more than I need air.
“That’s it, Angel. So good,” he groans.
I moan around him, my orgasm dancing just out of reach. I want more, rougher, harder. I want everything else to fade. The air’s thick with steam as the hot water continues to fall around us. It’s getting harder to breathe, which only makes me chase the release even more.
Wes continues to grind out praises, even as my mind becomes fuzzy.
I’m so close, and all I want is to come.
My eyes slam closed as I push a single finger into myself at the same time Wes yanks my hair so tight it burns, and it’s enough to send me over the edge.
The bite of pain, pressure from my fingers, the rough way he’s taking my mouth, and the lack of oxygen is what does it.
Wes pulls my mouth off him and I gasp as the orgasm racks through me while I faintly feel warmth hit my chest. When I start to recognize what’s going on around me, I see it’s cum.
Wes’s cum. Coating my chest, falling onto my nipples, and the fact that it only makes me want this to continue should probably be a sign that I need to be evaluated.
I look up at him, my knees aching, but I don’t dare to stand up yet because I don’t trust my legs to hold me up. He’s looking down at me with a self satisfied smirk on his face. He looks even bigger from down here, more imposing, almost scary, and hot as fuck.
“See how nice it is when you listen?”
I fight the urge to say something snarky back because the spot between my legs is begging for more. Instead of asking if he can handle going again I say, “Does that mean you’re going to fuck me?”
He lets out a humorless laugh, and I narrow my eyes at him. He moves some of the hair that’s fallen in my eyes away. “You may have been good, Angel, but you haven’t earned that yet.”
Before I’m able to protest, he turns off the water, and leaves the shower while I gape at him. And when I blink, he’s gone.