Chapter 20
20
CARLEE
M y heart races as I stand outside Weston’s bathroom door, the sound of the shower running echoing through the air. The steam from the hot water leaks out, and I feel like I’m dreaming. I can vividly imagine how this will go. The anticipation of being with him again pushes me forward. I want him so badly need surges through me. I almost talk myself out of it.
Instead, I enter, my breath hitching as I take in the sight before me. He stands under the stream, water cascading over his muscular frame, droplets glimmering on his skin like tiny diamonds.
“Damn,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rushing water.
He turns around, a smirk crossing his lips, and shoots me a wink that ignites a fire inside me.
“I knew you’d come,” he says.
The confidence in his voice sends a thrill down my spine.
“Hopefully, more than once.”
With a boldness I didn’t know I had in me, I step closer, standing on the other side of the glass wall, feeling the heat rising from the shower. Carefully, I lift my shirt from my body, and my fingers tremble as I unsnap my bra .
Weston’s eyes trail up and down me, the hunger in his gaze making me feel sexy and empowered. I remove my pants and shoes, aware of every glance as I give him a show. Turning deliberately, I slide out of my panties, my heart racing. With a deep breath, I open the shower door, drawing closer to him.
I need this. I need him.
As soon as I’m within his arm’s reach, our lips crash together, desperate and frenzied. He pushes me against the cool glass, and I gasp in surprise as my back and ass connect with the cold, wet surface. My fingers tangle in his drenched hair as he pulls me closer.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he confesses, his voice low and sultry.
Our tongues slide together in a sensual dance.
“Me too,” I manage to reply, my breath hitching.
Weston’s hand slides between my legs and a shock of pleasure jolts through me as I nearly lose my balance.
“God.” The word spills out in a gasp.
His lips and teeth find my neck, sending shivers over my body. “Mmm. I’ll be your god, Carlee. Is this a hickey?” He chuckles.
“Yes, asshole,” I groan, half joking. “Covering it made me late.”
He kisses and sucks at the tender spot, and my head falls back. Just then, Weston sinks to his knees, a devilish grin on his face as he looks up at me.
“Looks like I’m the one getting worshipped today,” I mutter.
“Every day,” he purrs, a fiery determination in his eyes as he lifts my thigh over his shoulder, stabilizing me with a firm hand on my ass.
His tongue slides inside me, and it feels so fucking good that I nearly lose my footing. He catches me effortlessly, refusing to let me slip as he sucks my clit, sending waves of ecstasy through my body.
I thrust my fingers through his hair, arching my back as he devours me from the inside out, and the orgasm builds rapidly, an intense pressure ready to explode. Just as I reach my peak, I hear a voice—a voice I absolutely do not want to hear right now.
I glance toward the door just as it swings open.
My eyes widen in horror, and Weston swiftly stands, taking me into his strong arms and pulling me to his chest.
“This suit?” Easton asks.
I bury my face against Weston, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Easton, are you fucking kidding me?” Weston barks, glancing over his shoulder with a mixture of annoyance and protectiveness.
Easton and Weston lock eyes, an intense stare-off occurring. Weston blocks me from view, but there’s one glaring issue with this plan—my legs and feet are completely visible.
“Oh,” Easton says, amusement lacing his voice. “Is this the suit?” he asks with more intent.
“Yes,” Weston growls, the frustration evident in his tone.
Easton bursts out laughing. “Hey, Carlee.”
“Ugh. Hi,” I mumble, and I wish I could disappear.
Weston cracks up, the sound bursting from him. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“See you two soon,” Easton calls out, still laughing as he leaves the bathroom.
“Did that just happen?” I keep my forehead pressed against Weston’s chest while he holds me under the falling stream. The warmth of the water relaxes me.
“He usually rings the doorbell,” he murmurs, breaking the delicate silence that fills the room.
“He’s so telling Lexi.” I pull away from him, my entire body on fire.
“Good,” Weston says firmly. “They should know I chose you.” His eyes glint with a fierce intensity that makes my heart race.
“You have? What about that woman last night?” My voice trembles .
The memory of him holding her tight makes me so damn jealous that I can barely contain myself.
He lifts my chin gently, capturing my lips with his. The kiss is a slow burn, igniting every nerve ending within me.
“That’s my sister’s best friend, Harper. I mentor her. There is nothing there. She tried.” His words tumble out, filled with reassurance.
“You promise?” I ask, my body temperature rises.
“Believe me when I say, you’re it, bestie,” he insists, a teasing smile creeping across his lips. “Now, where the fuck were we? Ah.”
Weston kisses down my body, and each touch causes butterflies to flutter. His lips glide over one of my nipples, and he takes it into his mouth, sending sparks of pleasure through me. With his hands resting on my hips, Weston pulls me closer as he lowers himself onto his knees, positioning me back in the same vulnerable posture I was in before Easton rudely interrupted.
“I remember,” he growls out, burying himself between my legs.
His kisses on my skin, his tongue on my clit—the combination has need coursing through my body.
“I was so close,” I sigh, sinking back into him. More moans escape my lips.
He grips my ass tighter with his strong hand, humming against me as his fingers flick across my clit. “So fucking good.”
“Oh, my fu—” My words choke in my throat as my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a primal growl escaping me with the intensity of his pressure and pace.
Weston slides a finger inside while keeping me upright. The steam from the hot water swirls around us like a dense fog, bringing me to a dream state. Being with him like this is pure ecstasy. I brace myself with my palms flat against the glass, fighting to remain steady as I race toward the edge.
“Weston,” I hiss, breathless, “I’m so close.”
“Come for me,” he demands, and his voice sends surges of electricity through me .
I pulse around him instantly, a guttural groan erupting from deep within as I rock against his fingers buried inside me.
“Ride it out for me, baby. You’re squeezing my fingers so damn hard.”
“I wish it were your cock,” I plead, feeling a wild urge consume my thoughts as he continues pleasuring me.
“Can you give me another one?” he growls, his blue eyes darkening like a stormy sea, full of desire.
I meet his gaze, heart racing, and nod.
“My horny fucking girl,” he says, the words dripping with lust. “We’re going to have so much fun.”
He smiles wickedly against me.
“Yes, yes,” I breathe, feeling that familiar, intoxicating build begin to swallow me whole.
I sink deeper into him, my back arching against the wall as my body responds to his movements. He grips my ass and slams me onto his tongue, eliciting a scream from me that echoes off the tiles.
“Weston, my God,” I cry out.
He doesn’t stop until I come again. After my back slides down the wall, we both end up sitting in front of each other, laughter bubbling between us.
“Now you’re just showing off,” I tease, leaning back against the cool glass.
“We’re just getting started,” he replies with a smirk, rising to his feet.
He lifts his hand, and I shake my head, determined to take control. I shift onto my knees, straightening my back as I stroke him a few times before taking him into my mouth. He leans against the wall, surrendering to the sensation as I assert control over this gorgeous man, a delicious power coursing through me.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, pushing my wet hair back, his thumb brushing tenderly against my cheek .
“It’s hard to smile with a thick cock in my mouth,” I say, sucking at his tip.
His sticky pre-cum glistens as I stroke him, and I lick it up, savoring him.
“Mmm. I love how you taste.”
“I love how you taste too.” He places the fingers that were buried inside of me into his mouth.
I squeeze my thighs together, almost needing more. The heat spills through me, a desperate craving that pulses with each movement.
“Touch your needy little clit, baby,” he mutters, reading me like a fucking book.
Without hesitation, I slide my hand between my legs, pleasuring myself while I pleasure him.
“You’re a real-life porno.” He grabs the back of my head and slides himself deeper into my throat. “Now you’re mine. Shit ,” he hisses, reaching down to flick one of my nipples as I tease my clit.
My pussy clenches as I bob up and down on him.
“Mmm. Taking me like a good girl .”
I nod, returning him to the back of my throat. I stroke him so fucking slow that his legs quiver with anticipation.
“Wes,” I whisper, “I’m so close.”
“Me too,” he mutters.
I want to milk every drop of him, needing him to see me worship and appreciate all of him. Weston is what I crave, what I’ve always wanted. Right now, I’m living in my own personal fantasy, where the two of us can be together.
“Carlee,” he whispers, nearly begging as he fists my hair in his hand.
I look up at him, smirking, flicking my tongue on the tip, barely tugging at his cock.
“You’re teasing us both,” he whispers, laughing.
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing the entire time? Now you’ll come when I say. Together,” I state .
He gives me a smoldering look as I barely suck on him. He throbs hard in my hand.
“You want it?”
“Fuck yes,” he whispers.
His muscles tense, and I pull away, rubbing circles on my clit. His eyes are closed when I look at him. I have him dangling on a thread.
“You’re perfect.”
He looks down at me. “You are.”
I grab him, bringing him back into my mouth, giving him exactly what he craves. I nod, letting him know I’m coming. He screams out his orgasm as I hum mine, letting him fuck my throat. His deep voice, echoing off the walls, makes me feel like the most powerful woman on the planet. He’s salty and sweet, and he tastes so good. I pull back, sticking out my tongue so he can watch the silver strands shoot into the back of my throat. I drink him down, massaging his balls with my free hand, sucking and swallowing all of him until he stops pulsing in my mouth.
Weston breathes rapidly. I stand and wrap my arms around him, and he holds me too.
He dips down and kisses me, and I can taste myself on his tongue, the remnants of my orgasm mingling with his. An unspoken conversation streams between us, heavy with the weight of our secrets.
“That felt like we just ended the world,” Weston says, reaching for the body wash and a black loofah.
Everything about this man is elegant—from the way he moves to the little details he chooses.
“I felt the shift,” I say, reliving it. “I think that was our trauma telling us to run.”
He laughs, wrapping his arm around me, capturing my lips again. “I’m only running toward you, Carlee.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” I whisper. “Unless you want me to fall in love with you. ”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen,” he replies, leaning in to plant a kiss on my nose, his breath warm against my skin.
“I literally said no kissing or snuggling,” I protest, yet he brushes his lips against mine, igniting a warmth deep in my chest.
“Projection and reverse psychology. This is what you really want because you want a real taste of what it’s like to be with me before you decide if it’s worth going official or not. You’re transparent,” he states. A glint of something dances in his gaze.
“How did you know that?” I whisper, genuinely intrigued, the weight of his words hanging in the air between us.
It’s the truth. He knows me too well, and he has probably predicted every single one of my moves before I made them.
“I know you better than you think,” he says, his voice steady.
He washes my shoulders. The warm water glides over my skin, cascading down my chest. Then, his touch lingers between my breasts.
“Really?” I ask, my heartbeat quickening with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability.
“I’ve read every word you’ve ever written and learned a lot about you. I’m a Carleencylopedia ,” he declares, a proud grin spreading across his face like he’s solved the mystery of me.
I smirk, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve read everything?”
“Yes. I can predict what you’re thinking with a single glance. Your face gives you away every time. I know you as well as you know me. I know how your heart works, how your brain puts pieces together. I also know you overthink everything. Like the possibility of us. Right now, you’re unsure. Hesitant. Trying to be careful. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
Weston squirts shampoo into his hands with a nonchalant ease and begins to run his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp until I relax and my eyes close.
“You can’t make promises like that. I’m too jaded,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to date anymore. I push away everyone who’s good for me. I’m scared I’ll do it to you too.”
The electricity swirling between us begins to wrap tightly around us, binding us together.
He gently cradles my head, guiding it under the stream of warm water, washing away all the suds and the weight of my worries. I lift my head to find his gaze steady on mine.
“I’m not letting you walk away from me, and I’m not going anywhere,” Weston asserts, his tone firm yet comforting, reminding me he’s by my side. It’s something no man has ever truly done for me. “No matter what, we are forever—friends or lovers—I promise. I will always keep my promises to you.”
He conditions my hair, working the silky cream through the strands with tender care before rinsing it out. I take my time washing him, my fingers exploring his broad shoulders, tracing over his tattoos as he rests his hands on my hips. We stand, exchanging smiles that speak volumes while the silent conversations continue.
“I don’t want this to end,” I confess.
“I don’t either,” Weston whispers, urgency breaking through the tranquility as he quickly washes his hair. “But we do have to get going. This is just the beginning …”
“That a promise?” I grin.
“Hell yes,” he replies, grabbing my ass. “I’ve had a taste. Now I want the never-ending buffet.”
He steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, and then holds up a big, fluffy one for me. I fall into his arms, and he wraps the material around me with tenderness. Taking his time, he dries me off, not missing an inch as he trails kisses all over my body. I relish being at the center of his universe, even if it’s temporary. We have right now, and that’s all that matters, right?
For the first time in my adult life, I understand the delicate art of taking what I can get. Whatever Weston is willing to offer, I’ll accept it with my whole heart. I’ll wait with bated breath, enjoying each second we have together.
My breathing grows ragged as his fingertips trail over my freshly washed skin. I nearly melt under his touch. I feel the metaphorical chains on my heart begin to snap, breaking away like fragile glass as we exchange a thousand unspoken words and promises.
“Tonight, a lot of my friends will try to get you to go out with them,” he says, a teasing edge in his voice. “Feel free to bust their fucking balls.”
I burst into laughter, the sound carefree. “Can do.”
Once I’m dry, I add some product to my hair, hoping to achieve that effortless beach wave, the kind that dances with the slightest breeze. I slide the dress over my body; it’s a velvety fabric that clings to every curve. The slit goes up to my thigh, allowing me to feel both bold and beautiful.
After I dry my hair to perfection and apply just the right amount of makeup, I meet Weston in his bedroom. I gasp when I see him, my breath catching in my throat. His suit matches my dress.
“We’re twinning.”
“Of course,” he replies, holding out his arm and leading me to the mirror, our reflections a harmonious blend of style and chemistry. “I want everyone to know you’re with me. And, damn, don’t we look so fucking good together?”
My heart flutters like a trapped butterfly. “We do.”
Weston leans in, holding me close to his body. “We should get going.”
“We should,” I agree as he slides a beautiful silk coat over my shoulders.
He leads me downstairs, hooking our fingers together as if to solidify the connection between us. As we take the final step, I spot Easton kicked back on the couch, wearing a shit-eating grin.
“Oh, you thought I’d left?” he says, clapping dramatically and giving us an exaggerated standing ovation. “The encore was incredible . Now, what’s going on between you two?”
I glare at Easton, my irritation bubbling under the surface. “You’re annoying.”
“I warned you that you’d get a brother when I married Lexi.”
Weston chuckles, and I shoot him an exasperated look.
“It’s not funny. I hate it when you both big-brother me.”
“You’re clearly fucking.” Easton crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Try to deny it now.”
I clear my throat, raising a finger in mock seriousness. “Technically?—”
“Look, we’re just …” Weston starts strong but falters, unable to find the right words.
Easton glances between us, his eyebrows raised in suspicion. “Are you seeing other people?”
“No,” Weston states firmly.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach as I look at him, and the sincerity in his gaze sends warmth cascading through me.
“So, you’re together?” Easton presses, his tone full of intrigue.
“No,” I say quickly, the word slipping out before I contemplate the implications.
“Listen to yourselves. That’s not logical.” Easton narrows his eyes at me, clearly unconvinced.
“Don’t you start,” I warn, shaking my head. “You and Lexi were so annoying with the do we, don’t we . You need to stay out of it.”
I step forward, grabbing his arm and steering him toward the door. I guide him out and shut the door firmly, rotating the dead bolt with a decisive click.
“I’m telling Lexi,” Easton calls through the crack before he smugly struts away.
“No one has ever stood up to him like that.” Weston bursts into laughter as he moves toward me, pulling me into his arms.
The attraction between us is undeniable as our lips almost meet in a kiss. We don’t commit, and I pull away, meeting his gaze, my heart racing in my chest like a runaway train.
“This is easy,” he whispers.
“That’s how it should be, right?” I reply, finding solace in his touch.
“What are we doing, Carlee? Just truths.” His voice takes on a serious note, and I sense the weight of the question hanging between us.
“I don’t know. We have to keep our promise. One of us has to save our friendship if it starts to go downhill, okay? I might not be strong enough,” I admit, vulnerability spilling from my lips, my throat tightening. “I don’t want to lose you.”
He licks his lips. “Just promise me, if you decide I’m not enough, you’ll tell me, even if it hurts, because I want you to be happy. No matter what.”
“Weston,” I whisper, gripping his face gently and smiling up at him, “you’re more than any woman ever deserves.”
“Just promise,” he urges, the intensity of his gaze almost stealing my breath.
“I promise,” I repeat, rolling my eyes, “but you’ve checked every damn box and made me add a few extras.” I laugh as my fingers pinch his butt. “If we don’t leave now, I might decide I’m sick. And you won’t be able to go either because you have the only thermometer.”
With a cheeky grin, I glance down at his crotch and waggle my brows, delivering my best fake cough. I needed to lighten the mood, and he appreciates it.
He chuckles, a warm, rich sound. “Please don’t ever change.”
“Please don’t make me,” I reply, fully aware that I’ve shown Weston the rawest version of me that exists.
“Never. We should go,” he says, and I follow him out.
As we descend in the elevator, a familiar song plays overhead. Weston takes my hands in his, pulling me close, and we begin to dance, swaying to the rhythm in the cramped space before the doors open. He dips me down, his face inches from mine, almost kissing me. Our breaths mix and …
“Weston!”
I hear a high-pitched voice echoing in the elevator. I look up to see the woman from last night. Harper.
Weston pulls me to my feet.
“Shit, I’m so sorry about last night,” she says, sincerity wrapped around her words.
Weston takes my hand and guides me out of the elevator, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin.
“It’s fine. Just don’t let that shit ever happen again, or I’m telling Billie what you told me,” Weston warns, his tone light but firm as he steers us away from her.
Harper groans in exaggerated embarrassment, and I turn to look back at her, mouthing an apology. She shoots me a wink and nods— an approval of us .
“I like her,” I say as Weston leads me through the elegant foyer of The Park. I appreciate the luxurious ambience of the space.
“Be careful,” he warns, his voice low and conspiratorial. His breath tickles my ear. “She gives love prophecies that come true.” He glances at me, a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re making me blush,” I whisper, and our eyes lock.
He leads me outside, hooking his fingers with mine, the warmth radiating between us as I keep my gaze downward. The clicks of cameras grab my attention, snapping me back to reality.
“Head high, bestie,” he says with a spark in his eye.
I can’t suppress the smile that touches my lips. “You did that on purpose.”
“You gotta look like you’re having fun if you want them to believe it,” he says, his confidence radiating off him as the limo door slides open, revealing Easton and Lexi inside.
We pile into the car together, and warmth floods my cheeks when I steal a glance at Easton, who sits across from me. Weston takes the seat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as if to protect me from the world outside.
“Wait,” Lexi interrupts. “What did I miss?”
Easton smirks knowingly, and I can tell right away that he didn’t tell Lexi.
“Guess Easton’s keeping secrets again,” Weston mutters to her.
Easton’s expression grows serious. “Carlee, did Weston tell you what our publicist planned?”
“No.” I shake my head, eyes darting between the two of them.
“Don’t,” Weston urges, shaking his head fiercely. “It’s too much of an ask.”
“What?” I meet his eyes, confusion clouding my thoughts, and I direct my attention back to Easton. “Tell me. Tell me right now.”
Easton clears his throat. “Our publicist thinks a fake engagement would be great for business and help put a stop to Lena’s shit.”
“Is that true?” I ask Weston, seeking reassurance from him.
He opens and closes his mouth, uncertainty clear in his expression. “Yes.”