Chapter 13
13
WESTON
“ I ’m in control of this pretty little pussy now. Not you ,” I growl out.
“Fine,” she gasps out, her breath shaky as I take my time, driving her to the edge with my tongue.
Carlee enjoys every intoxicating second. Her thighs quiver, yet I hold her suspended, right on the brink of pure ecstasy.
Mmm. My new favorite flavor.
The sweetness of her skin dances on my tongue. Her desperate desire pulls me deeper into this heady whirlwind of passion with her.
Should we be doing this?
Probably not, but I don’t have any fucks left to give.
Her back arches off the couch—a silent plea for more. The cool leather beneath her contrasts the heat radiating from her body. The tension between us is electric, and it wraps around me, nearly choking me as I enjoy her pussy. I can’t stop, not until she loses herself.
“Weston,” she moans.
My name escaping her sends a ripple through me. She rocks against me, her body full of anticipation. Fingers weave through my hair as she pulls me closer, anchoring me to her as if I might float away. She’s hungry for me and full of desperation.
“I’ve fantasized about this,” she admits breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.
“Making dreams come true,” I say, working her back up, savoring how her body instinctively melts into my touch.
I drive her further to the edge, pulling away when her breathing nearly stops. I want her to know who’s in control from now on.
The fire between us threatens to consume us both. At the rate things are moving, we’ll soon be ash.
“Please,” she whimpers.
“I love to hear you beg for me,” I say, teasing her clit.
“Please, Wes. Please let me fucking come ,” she urges, and I can hear the anguish and need in her voice.
“You want it?” I ask, returning to that tight little bundle of nerves.
Her pussy clenches against my fingers. Her muscles constrict in response. She’s standing on the edge, ready to jump, wanting to fall.
“Yes,” she says in a sultry whisper.
“Come for me.”
As I command her, she shatters around my fingers and on my tongue. I continue to caress her, gentle yet deliberate, allowing her to savor every wave of pleasure. She moans out her release, and something stirs deep inside of me.
“Yes, yes,” she whispers, unable to finish her sentence.
Watching her body collapse is a beautiful fucking sight to see. She’s breathless, her eyes sealed tight as she sucks in ragged breaths. Eventually, she sits up, her hair a wild mess and her lips swollen. She’s glowing. Her aura is fucking beautiful, like the remnants of lingering sunshine at the twilight.
“That was …” A smirk graces her lips as she radiates with newfound confidence.
“Especially when you begged to come.” I draw my fingers to my mouth, relishing her taste, the sweetness lingering on my tongue. “I already crave more of you.”
“I’ve never …” Carlee hesitates, weighing her next words carefully, a hint of vulnerability creeping back in. “I’ve never let anyone go down on me before.”
“I’m your first? I fucking love that for me.” I lean in closer, genuinely intrigued.
“No one ever took the initiative, and I was too shy to ask.” The raw honesty in her voice does something to me.
“And? Five out of five stars? Highly recommend?” I rub my thumb across her bottom lip, ready to kiss her.
“Great service. Very attentive. Incredible atmosphere. It might have been my first time, but I would come again.” She shoots me a wink.
“What I love to hear.” I grin. “I want to know your wildest fantasies.”
Her brow arches. “Like … sexual ?”
“ All of them,” I reply, watching intently as she readjusts her dress.
A delicate mix of shyness and excitement dances in her eyes. She draws me closer.
“It’s your homework, so I can make your dreams come true.”
“My genie in a bottle.” She smirks. “Hate to break it to you, though. As of right now, you’ve kinda already done that.”
“You’re too easy to please,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary, savoring the smell of her vanilla skin.
Her genuine happiness lights up the room, illuminating every corner with joy. My mission is to keep her just like this. Forever.
Before she can respond, a knock breaks the intimate ambience, sending a ripple of unease through the air.
“Do I look guilty?” she asks, brushing her hair back nervously, an uncertain smile twitching at her lips .
“Own it,” I reply, discreetly adjusting myself, trying to mask the feelings overwhelming me.
Carlee scoots to the opposite end of the couch, wearing a playful pout.
Another knock disrupts us, and I know our intimate moment is over. They’re always fleeting.
“Come in,” I bark, my tone sharp.
Seconds later, the door clicks open, and Brody steps into the room, his presence an unwelcome interruption.
His eyes widen at the sight of Carlee, shock flashing across his features before he shifts his gaze to me.
“Can I help you?” I arch an eyebrow, curiosity mingling with irritation.
“I’m here,” he says, glaring at me like I’m the inconvenience.
“ Obviously. What do you need?” I look at him as if he’s lost his mind, frustration bubbling.
“Ah,” he exhales as he glances between us. “Easton’s a bastard.”
“Explain,” I say, confused.
“He told me you needed my help,” Brody says, his suspicion lingers like smoke. “Looks like he was mistaken.”
Brody doesn’t really know what’s happening between us. No one does. Just us. And I’ll continue to keep her a secret and call the shots. Speculation is one thing, but I’m confirming nothing.
I let out a breath, trying to mask the truth. “I’m not sure what you’d have interrupted. I’ve told him and everyone else today that we’re just friends.”
I glance at Carlee, searching for affirmation, hoping she will back me up.
“Yeah, that’s weird. We’re really just friends. But me and you could be a different story …” she says, waggling her brows.
Brody rolls his eyes.
She offers him a flirty smile as she rises from the sofa. The light makes her glow like a fucking goddess .
“Anyway, I need to get back to my date. Thanks for revealing your secret identity to me, Batman.”
With a wink, she glides toward the door, leaving me both amused and bewildered, along with a cocktail of other emotions.
As the door clicks shut behind her, Brody crosses his arms over his chest. “Care to explain this? Because it seems like you two were fucking.”
“We’re just friends,” I say, the words familiar. “She’s literally on a date with her ex right now.”
“Why are you here if she’s on a date?” he questions.
“Am I on fucking trial? Jesus, now you sound like my ex.”
Skepticism is etched across his features. “You’re transparent.”
“I’m living my life,” I state, following him across the room as Carlee’s presence still lingers.
He stares at me for a long time. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Goodbye, dear cousin,” I say, opening the door and escorting him out. It closes with a click.
The last thirty minutes played out like a dream, and I can still taste her on my tongue.
What reckless agreement did we forge in the heat of the moment?
I turn to the wall of windows, seeking distraction in the panoramic view of the club. Music pounds below my feet, lights shimmering like stars plucked from the night sky, as an energetic sea of sex and sin fills the air.
In a crowd of unfamiliar faces, my gaze zeroes in on her.
She glides past a guy who runs his hand along her waist. My heart races and protectiveness takes over. My fist clenches at the thought of anyone touching her. But there’s satisfaction in knowing that she’s mine, even if temporarily.
She finds Samson, and I can’t read his expression as he says something to her. She laughs, waving him off. I’m not ready for the night to end, not yet.
I whip out my phone, and my fingers fly across the keys.
Weston
Leave with me.
The screen lights up her face, and a smile spreads across her lips. I’m entranced by her.
Carlee
Where are we going?
Weston
Anywhere but here.
Carlee
Can I have five minutes?
Weston
Absolutely. I’ll meet you by the elevators.
The thought of spending more time with her rushes through me. I fill my bourbon glass and slam it back, the amber liquid burning my throat as excitement claws at my insides.
Carlee smiles as she continues chatting with Samson. They exchange a quick hug, and she lingers a second longer before walking away, wearing an expression of hope.
It’s over between them. That’s clear.
Relief floods through me. I knew she needed this confirmation. Fuck, so did I.
That’s why I called in a favor.
That’s why Samson is here.
It was a risk for me, knowing I could’ve lost her to him, but I had a hunch I wouldn’t.
Now that she knows it’s over, maybe we can finally move forward.
I’m ready to win this game and conquer the internal war waging within me.
The ultimate prize? Her .
We both need to learn how to love again. It’s another risk, but it’s one I’ll take for her.
“There you are,” she exclaims, her voice seductive as she steps into view.
I’m exactly where I said I’d be.
She’s my friend, my greatest temptation, my ultimate secret.
“Ready?” I ask, my hand settling gently on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit.
The simple touch sends a ripple of goose bumps across her skin, and I love how I affect her.
“You’re sure about leaving together?” Her smile widens, our secret dancing in her eyes. “There will be cameras. The speculation and rumors will begin immediately.”
I meet her gaze, feeling a pull deeper than I’m used to.
“We’re just friends,” I assure her, but her eyes linger for a heartbeat too long. “Would you prefer to wait? I’ll happily?—”
“No,” she replies, shaking her head with a quiet determination. “I’m trusting you, Weston. You know how to play this game. I only write about it. At least, I used to.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, knowing this is the right choice, one that will allow us freedom we don’t currently have. I want to travel with her and experience life.
“Positive,” she says, smiling back at me as we step into the unknown together.
The cool winter air is full of possibilities.
“Good girl,” I mutter against the shell of her ear as the doors slide open.
A flurry of cameras flashes, and the brightness is blinding. Carlee keeps her head down, and I gently guide her toward the car. A few people rush us, and a guy nearly knocks over Carlee.
I step forward, pushing him. “Watch where you’re fucking going,” I say.
I hold on to her, protecting her.
People scream my name. Several ask who’s with me.
She slides in the car first, and I settle in beside her. The door thuds shut with finality.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect that many cameras,” I explain. The weight of the attention presses in on us. “This is a circus.”
“I’m not used to that,” she murmurs, watching me. “How do you deal with this?”
“I learned to drown it out like white noise. I pretend it’s a part of the scenery and try to act like they’re invisible until they cross the line.”
Her smile breaks through the tension. “I’m okay. You don’t want people to think you have anger issues. So many are waiting for you to fuck up, Wes.”
“If someone is rough with you and disrespects you, violence will be the answer. I have boundaries, and that’s one of them,” I state, my anger increasing. “Unacceptable. It makes me fucking feral.”
She turns to me, her red lips curving into an inviting smile. “That’s kinda hot.”
“I’m not kidding.”
The car lurches into motion.
“Oh, I know you’re not,” she says. “But we might as well protect your image while you’re playing puppet master with your life. Please do not become a PR nightmare with me by your side. Everyone will call me a bad influence,” she explains. “Tons of people are already not going to accept me.”
“Because you’re pretty, and they want to be you,” I say, and she tries to hold back a smile .
“That’s what you believe?” she asks.
“That’s what I know. Anyway, are you hungry? Because I haven’t eaten since brunch with Billie,” I confess, meeting her heated gaze and lowering my voice. “You don’t count.”
Her smile spreads, radiant and infectious. “I’m starving.”
My stomach growls, punctuating her words. It’s loud enough for her to hear. “Do you like pancakes?”
“Love them,” she replies, laughter escaping her lips, filling the limousine with ease. It’s so easy being with her like this. “Coffee is a requirement though.”
“I know the perfect spot,” I say, pulling out my phone to text the driver, shielded from the outside world for just a little longer.
As the car makes a turn, her phone buzzes. The light from the screen casts a glow across her face, and I glance at the contact. It’s Lexi.
“Sorry, I have to text her back, or she’ll send a search party,” she says, her voice tinged with amusement.
I smirk, leaning in a bit closer. “What are you going to tell her?”
She glances at me, the corners of her mouth twitching. “What are you telling your brother? Our stories need to be the same.”
“We’re just friends,” I repeat, locking my gaze with hers as a sly smile curls her lips, “who fuck.”
She scoffs. “Actually, we haven’t yet .”
“Smart-ass,” I retort, leaning in to capture her lips, the warmth and sweetness igniting a familiar fire between us. “Do I need to change that right now?”
“I wish you would,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath quickening as I slide closer, gravity pulling me into the space between her legs.
I smirk, teasing her. “Then what would you have left to anticipate?”
I could take her right here before we reach my favorite diner. I can hear her desperate breaths and how she instantly responds to me .
“Oh my God, Weston! You’re still cockblocking me.”
I force myself back into my seat, adjusting my tuxedo with a grin. “I’m here to please you . You’re my focus. So are your wants, your needs, your desires, and your innermost fantasies. I’m determined to make every single one of them come true while we enhance our friendship.”
Her smile reveals something deeper. “And what about wishes money can’t buy?”
“Oh, babe, I’m fulfilling those too.”
“Cocky.” She bites her bottom lip. Electricity crackles between us. “But don’t ever change.”
“Don’t plan on it.” My heart jumps as her green eyes hold mine, steadying the whirlwind inside me.
I want her; I crave her.
“You’re perfect just the way you are,” she encourages, a quiet sincerity framing her words. She means it.
“I don’t deserve you,” I say, feeling so fucking lucky to be living in this lifetime with her.
“You’re wrong.” The conviction in her voice is fierce, full of her truths.
Despite the fractures in my heart, she sees light lurking in the shadows that haunt me. I’ve been truthful, fully showing her the raw parts of myself, wanting her to understand who I am now. I don’t feel like the man she’s written about on her blog, but she reminds me that I am him.
This divorce reshaped me, and I find myself wishing, more than anything, that I’d never met Lena. In my experience, it is better to have never loved at all. Had I met Carlee earlier, she’d have gotten all of me, the me before my heart was wrecked. It’s one of my only regrets in life.
“Are you okay?” Carlee asks, her voice laced with concern as the limo glides to a stop in front of the diner.
“Yeah,” I tell her, summoning a smile that feels more like a mask. “Just lost in thought. ”
“Stay in the moment with me.” She lightly bumps her shoulder into mine. “It’s a lot more fun here, I promise.”
“You’re right,” I admit. As I shift my focus to her, tension melts from my shoulders. “Thanks for saving me from that torture again.”
“I could say the same about you, especially tonight,” she replies, her fingers gently squeezing mine just as the car door swings open. “Now, come on. Let’s go be little piggies together.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I hope you never change either.”
“I’m kinda set in my ways,” she replies.
I want to kiss her, but it’s not safe. In public, we have to play it safe.
She steps onto the sidewalk that has a mound of snow shoveled to the side. The neon sign of the diner flickers like a bright invitation. When we enter, the smells of bacon and freshly brewed coffee fill the air. Carlee’s eyes light up at the sight of the checkered floor and old jukebox by the entrance. It’s packed with familiar faces, but they’re not friends or foes, just humans who share a space and food with me sometimes.
“Hey, Weston,” Millie, one of the waitresses, says over her shoulder as we stand by the front counter. “Your booth is open. Help yourself.”
She nods across the room, and I take Carlee’s finger, leading her to my favorite table that gives a view of the street, but blocks me from being photographed by paps.
“You’re a regular here?” she asks, glancing around. “Didn’t know this was your type of hangout.”
“You’re going to learn a lot more about me, bestie,” I mumble, and her eyes flash with delight.
Two coffees slide across the table, along with a bowl of cream.
Laminated menus are set in front of us, and Carlee’s eyes widen. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Give us a minute,” I tell Millie. “Too many choices.”
She glances between us and gives me a wink .
Carlee’s eyes flicker upward, meeting mine as I sip my black coffee.
“Stop eye-fucking me,” I mutter.
She laughs. “Or what? Going to spank me?”
“Would you like that?” I ask.
“I’d be willing to try anything once,” she says.
My eyes narrow on her. “You’d better check yourself when we’re around our friends. The bedroom eyes? Too much .”
“Bedroom eyes?” She laughs. “Come on, Weston. I look at everyone like this.”
“I hope to fuck you don’t,” I state.
She chuckles, adding a cream and a sugar to her coffee. “You’re exactly where I want you.”
It’s almost as if she knows I’m already wrapped around her pretty little finger—have been for months.
“Funny, because you’re exactly where I want you to be as well,” I admit.
A wave of excitement crashes over me, and it feels like a new beginning, a new era of me, of us.
She licks her lips. The sexual tension is almost too much.
As I look into her eyes, wishing I could read her mind, I wonder if our endgame is the same.
Maybe, somehow, we’ll both win.