Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
LINDY
NEED TO SEE YOU
Wes’s text sent an electric shiver through my body.
Need.
I bit my lip.
And I need to lick you.
Need to bite you.
Need to kiss you.
Need to.. .
It had been two nights ago that I was at his house, that we’d made confessions, that we’d fooled around. And since then, the sensations of Wes kissing me, touching me, his long, hard, velvet length filling my mouth, his salty taste, the sounds he made as his gorgeous muscular body writhed and jerked in pleasure, his fingers fisting my hair, had kept me breathless and aching all day.
When he’d shouted out that he didn’t have a condom, it was as if a freezing ice bath had been thrown at me, and I’d snapped out of the haze of desire and shot back to reality.
How could I have let it get this far?
I’d figured I should test the waters, to see if I was still attracted to him in that visceral way I always had been or not. And if that attraction no longer existed, my stubborn resentment had simply clouded my judgement all this time. What a relief it would be.
I failed that test miserably.
Or had I passed with flying colors?
Gah!
The attraction was even more fierce, the chemistry between us even more powerful than I remembered. My cheeks stung with the vivid memory.
My body had hit overload with the two of us simply standing there almost naked, staring at each other, not even touching. And then when we finally touched, overwhelm hit me like a tidal wave. I only wanted more.
I’d licked his perfect chest and taken him in my mouth. And the way he’d reacted–throbbing, hissing, moaning for me–had me transfixed on making him come. He came, and I tasted him for the first time. I loved it. Loved it so much.
Too much.
My phone pinged with another text.
Lindy? You there???
I’m home. Come over
Lenore and Finger wouldn’t be home for another hour and a half at least. Every Thursday afternoon they’d meet at Pete’s Tavern in town for drinks before they came home for dinner. Perfect timing. Wes would stop by and tell me how things went with Butler, what he found out, and then he’d have to leave. No possibility of any touching, kissing, tasting, coming…
Yep. Great idea.
I caught my gaze in the mirror. I’d been playing with the new Lenore blush, and then, of course, an hour later I had a full face of makeup on along with some false eyelash pieces that filled out my own lashes. I’d layered powder, highlight, more blush, more bronzer…I’d gone all out.
I glanced at the time on my phone. Wes was probably getting off work from either Eagle Wings or Trash Ink. Either way, I’d have plenty of time to get all this makeup off my face before he arrived. I grabbed a cotton round and the bottle of Micellar water.
Something hit the window, and I let out a gasp. Had a bird crashed into the glass? I ran to the window. My heart skipped a beat. Wes stood on the backyard patio, waving at me, hoodie over his head as if he’d snuck undercover into the fenced backyard. He probably had.
My Meager Romeo.
I shoved open the window. “What the heck are you doing?”
“Never threw stones at your window before.”
My breath caught. He used the same phrase I’d used the other night when I’d…
A grin slashed his face, and my insides twisted. The provocative bad boy making dirty promises. “Stay there, I’ll be down in a sec.”
“I love it when you dish out orders.”
“Wes!” My lungs crushing together, I rushed down to the kitchen and unlocked the patio doors. His eyebrows lifted, his head jerked back, his lips parted. “What are you staring at? Come in already.” I pulled on his arm, and he stumbled inside as he twisted around.
“You…you…”
“What?” I locked the glass doors behind me.
“You’re gorgeous.”
I rolled my eyes. “You men are so easy. A bit of greasepaint or a little bikini and you’re falling all over yourselves.”
“No, Lind, seriously.” He grabbed my upper arm as I brushed past him. “You look amazing. I mean, you always look amazing, but this is… out of this world glamorous but you.” As his thumb rubbed my arm, his eyes scrunched up, and he released his firm hold on me.
“Thank you.” My mouth had gone totally dry.
He lifted his chin. “You getting ready to go out for a big night on the town?”
“Yeah, the limo’s on its way.”
His brow scrunched. “What?”
“Joke.” I gestured at my face. “I did this for fun. It’s…a hobby of mine.”
He stroked the side of my cheek. “You sure are good at it.”
I swallowed hard at the gentle stroke of his warm fingers. “It’s what I love to do more than anything else. Like riding a motorcycle is for you, maybe? Or drawing and painting?”
“Right on both counts. Nothing like it.”
“It excites me and keeps me centered. I lose myself in it, but find myself at the same time.” My cheeks heated at my confession.
A genuine smile lit up his face, softening his jaw. “That’s exactly what it’s like, yeah.”
“I’d love to make a career out of it, but I haven’t quite gotten that off the ground yet. I used to post looks on Instagram, but I had to put my account on private since I got here.”
“Like a beauty influencer?”
“I wouldn’t say that. ”
“Show me.”
I picked up my phone, brought up my IG, and gave him the phone.
He scrolled, his eyes widening. “Goddamn, woman. This is insane.”
“Thank you.” My voice had gone soft. He gave me back my phone and our fingers brushed together, the contact sending sparks up my arm, making my back straighten.
His lips tipped up. “Will you accept my follow if I make a request?”
“Maybe.”
We both laughed, and silence fell between us as we continued the mutual staring. His gaze dropped to my lips, and I took in a deep breath. “So…” I shifted my weight. “What’s up?”
He ran a hand through the crop of hair on top of his head. “I talked to Butler. I showed him the Zed notebooks. I wanted to tell you about it.”
“What did he say?”
“He was playing it cool, but he was upset. He told me that from the very beginning, before my dad was even president, he was very anti-Flames and anti-Finger. Constantly putting up roadblocks to any sort of communication or cooperation between the clubs that Butler and another brother were trying to get off the ground for the good of the club. They’d fight about it, but he’d never give any kind of explanation. When Butler saw the notebooks it all started to make sense to him.”
“Oh boy. Was he real upset? Did he feel that your dad was a traitor?”
“He kept it tight for my sake. We were at the Grand in public too. But it was obvious to me that it upset him. Butler confirmed that Dad had never told anyone about it, so it wasn’t part of some awesome plan for the future of the two clubs but for his own pockets.
“All Butler knew was that the Jacks and the Blades had never worked together, only did the odd charity run, partied—mostly in the Zed era as he and Dad were tight—but no business collaborations. He asked me if there were any more notebooks past Zed’s death, and I lied to him. Said no.”
“That’s all right. He knows the core truth now, that’s what’s important. How long it went on for is frosting on the cake.”
His gaze fell to his boots. “Fucking ten-layer cake.”
“Is he going to tell everyone?”
“Only Boner.”
“That’s good.”
“But I’ll know. He and Boner will know.” His jaw tightened in that way that told me he was conflicted. Irritated. Upset.
“Wes, you think no other brother in any other club does this sort of thing? Come on. It’s rough passing up an opportunity to make a tax-free buck. Things are tough out there. Or maybe your dad got off on the thrill of it. On the forbidden. On taking that risk and getting away with it.”
“Yes to all of the above.”
“Was your dad an adrenaline junkie too?”
He let out a dark laugh. “He was a junkie on lots of fronts—riding, power, sex.”
I leaned a hand against the counter. “Did you inherit those cravings, junior?”
“Is that what you think?” His voice sharpened, his eyes narrowed at me. “Is that what you think of me?”
I’d hit a major nerve.
“I don’t think that of you, Wes. It was a bad joke. I’m sorry.” I curled my fingers into his T-shirt. “But that’s what you think, isn’t it?”
“You don’t know anything about it.” He stiffened, his gaze darting to the window.
“I know you.”
“Yeah, me, the guy who played you. There you go. See?” He raised his hands in the air as if I’d proven his point.
“Stop it.”
“That’s the cold truth.”
“But that’s not who you are. You’re not your dad, you’re not Jump. And you’re not responsible for him or his legacy with the club, be it good or be it sullied. Tell me you believe that.”
His features tightened. “I can’t…”
I took in a breath, my chest filling with purpose. I had to say it. It was the truth, and he needed it, and I would offer it to him. “You know what?”
“What?” he said sharply.
“I forgive you.”
His gaze snagged on mine. A teeming dark-blue sea I could drown in, but Wes was the one drowning, and I would throw him a lifeline.
“I forgive you, Wes. And you need to forgive yourself.”
“I don’t deserve?—”
My fingers went to his lips. “I. Forgive. You.”
His hand closed over mine and he gently kissed it. “Thank you,” he whispered.
I hugged him, and his arms pulled me in tight. “I have regrets with my dad too,” I murmured into his chest. “I wasn’t the nicest daughter the last few months. Always pointing out where I thought he was going wrong. Never satisfied with anything, always frustrated. Now he’s missing. In danger. And I don’t want it to end here. It can’t.” My lips pressed together to halt the tide of messy emotions rising in my throat. “He’s all I have left, Wes, and I don’t want to lose him. I can’t.” There was a tremor in my voice, and his arms squeezed me even tighter. I buried my face in his soft hoodie, in the hard protective wall of his chest, his steady heartbeat drumming in my ear.
His lips brushed the top of my head. “You’re not going to lose him,” he whispered.
Our breathing synced as my body nestled deeper into his. I began to breathe normally again.
His hands rubbed my back. “It feels good to talk to you like this, Lind. I don’t share real shit with many people. I can count the times on one hand.”
“Me neither.” My teeth scraped my lip.
“With you, it’s different.” He stroked my hair down to the side of my face.
“I feel that too.” I peeked up at him, and that tight pressure in my chest intensified. “Wes…”
Cupping my face, his lips brushed mine, kissing me gently. Around us, the world’s spinning slowed and blurred, and my blood sang in my veins. Everything about this kiss was beautiful. A yearning answered, an ache soothed, a hurt relieved. We kissed like we had all the time to explore, to share.
I wanted to share with Wes.
My tongue dove, and everything swirled, and I held onto him, onto us, while it did. His hands slid down my back, over my hips to my ass, pulling me into him, into his hardness, his need. I reveled in the knowledge of it, in the feel of his firm body, his heat and desire fusing with mine.
His heart beating with mine.
“You feel so good…” He lifted me up in his arms, and my legs snaked around his waist. He put me on the counter, his hands sliding under my cropped T-shirt as he let out a groan, sending electric sparks over my skin. I trembled as if it were the first time he was touching me, a touch that blazed and incited a riot inside me. His hand cupped a breast and stroked. “Lindy…” he sighed against my lips
The heels of my feet dug into Wes’s ass as he took my mouth, claiming, possessing. His hand roughly kneaded my breast. “So beautiful…” Groaning, he picked me up off the counter and we turned. He lost his balance and tipped me against the refrigerator. The water and ice dispenser erupted in that jerky grinding sound, and ice cubes spewed onto my bare skin. I let out a shriek, clinging to him.
We laughed, but didn’t stop kissing, which only made our hunger bolder. My fingers raked through his hair as he adjusted me in his hold. I liked being held by him. I was on fire, and all the ice and cold water in the world couldn’t put out these flames. “Wes...”
“Lindy…tell me. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you…” His hand gripped my ass cheek.
My heart pounded in my chest. “I want?—”
“What the hell’s going on?” a rough voice boomed, and my fingernails dug into his flesh, my gaze shooting over Wes’s shoulder. A big, dark shadow loomed over us in the kitchen, blocking all the sunlight.
“Shit!” I yelped, springing out of Wes’s arms.
“That all you got to say, young lady?” growled Finger.