Chapter 29 #2
“No.” His tone is commanding. It only intensifies the thrill.
“Gotta hold you down so you don’t go running off again.
” He gives me another lingering kiss just to drive the point home.
And when he finally releases my wrists, he’s off the bed before I can reach for him.
“Don’t move,” he whispers, and I go still, watching in near fascination as he charges across the room to where he dropped his wallet.
He opens it, extracts one of his handy packets of travel lube, and returns to the bed.
“Arms over your head.”
I obey. He tosses my jeans aside and settles between my legs and grabs hold of my wrists again. With his other hand, he lubes up his dick, then guides it to the place that aches for him.
“Fucking fuck me,” I beg.
Humor dances in his eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you.”
Now I’m groaning again. Goddamn it. If he plans on torturing me again, I really will lose my mind—
“I’m going to make love to you,” he finishes.
My breath hitches.
Smiling, Wes drops his mouth to mine. Our lips lock at the same moment he slowly slides inside me.
The burn of pleasure makes me gasp but he swallows the sound with a soft, sweet kiss that matches the soft, sweet strokes of his cock.
He fills me. Completes me. My dick is an iron spike against my belly, and I struggle against the tight band of his fingers around my wrists.
“I need to touch myself,” I plead.
Wes lightly bites my bottom lip. “That’s my job, remember?” And then he wraps his fist around me and gives a fast stroke as he plunges deeper inside me.
The orgasm catches me by surprise. I thought I’d last longer, at least a dozen strokes, but nope, I’m coming and it’s glorious and my entire world is reduced to him.
My best friend. My lover. My…fiancé…oh wow, never thought that word would be such a turn-on, but it totally is.
My dick throbs harder, another jet spurting onto my belly at the thought of spending the rest of my life with this man.
Wes continues to make love to me, slow and languid, as if he’s savoring every second of this.
When he finally comes, it’s not in a hard explosion of bliss, but the gentle rocking of his hips and a soft moan of contentment.
Then he collapses on top of me, his lips teasing mine in tender kiss after tender kiss, his hands caressing my pecs and shoulders before stroking through my hair.
Eventually he stops petting me and we lie pressed against each other, Wes curled around me, each of us drifting on our own thoughts.
I happen to glance at the clock, which reads 1:37.
“You must be tired,” I whisper. He played a game a few hours ago.
“When does the bus leave the hotel?” His itinerary had listed a flight tomorrow morning.
“Eh. Seven-thirty?”
“We should sleep,” I say although I’m wired.
“Or you could tell me about the thing at work.”
I groan. “I will, I swear. But does it have to be now? Can’t I stay in my happy place?”
He chuckles into the back of my neck. “Wasn’t I just in your happy place?”
“You’re quite the literalist this evening.” I get up and make a trip into the biggest hotel bathroom I’ve ever seen. I clean up a little and then bring Wes a damp washcloth, sliding back into bed with him.
“Seriously,” he says, wiping his remarkable abs. “What could you possibly have done that’s so awful?”
“I slammed Danton up against a wall.”
“Hallelujah!”
“No. I shouldn’t have. I’ve got better self-control than that. We’re trying to teach these kids how to have sportsmanship, right? So why do I ignore all my boss’s advice on how exactly to deal with Danton and then I get physical with him? Dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
Wes is quiet for a moment. “That’s the thing, though. You are smarter than that. There’s no reason to think you’d ever do it again. Blame it on the drugs. Say it’s a fluke and hold your head up high and turn in that complaint that Bill keeps asking you for.”
“So I can save my job or my conscience, but not both.”
He kisses the back of my neck. “Save your job, babe, then give your conscience a break. You seriously think those kids are better off if that asshole wins?”
And here is where I realize for the hundredth time in twenty-four hours how much I love Wes. Lying here pancaked to his naked body, hashing out my career disaster—it’s the best therapy ever. There’s a reason I trust him. We may not always look at problems the same way, but he’s pretty damn smart.
“I’m going to go in there Monday and eat crow,” I decide. “I want that job. I deserve it, too.”
His big hand rubs my hip. “Of course you do.”
We go silent again, and after a while I decide that Wes is asleep. But then he surprises me by speaking again. “Can we talk about your other favorite topic?”
“Your shitty housekeeping?”
He laughs. “Okay, your other other one.”
“Which is…?”
“Money.”
“God, why?”
“Because when the season is over, we’re going to throw a wedding and then go on a spectacular vacation.
I want to plan it without you worrying about the cost. There’s still some grueling weeks ahead of us, right?
It will be easier every time I look at the screensaver I’ve downloaded for whatever beach we’re going to. ”
I don’t know what to say. “It doesn’t have to be expensive.”
Wes chews on my neck for a moment before answering. “Privacy costs money. And I have money.” He tugs on my shoulder, so I have to turn around and face him. “You know how I got rich?”
I shake my head.
“By waking up one morning to find that my grandfather had died, leaving me a pile of cash. My asshole father can’t touch my trust, either.
The old man knew Dad was a greedy bastard.
” He grins. “It’s all just the luck of the draw, okay?
And even if I’d earned every penny digging ditches, there isn’t anything I have that I don’t want to give you. Not one thing.”
He leans in and kisses me while I try to take that in. I get a second kiss, and then a third. I thought I was done figuring shit out already, but there’s more you can learn at 1:45 in the morning as your boyfriend slowly eases his way into your mouth, stroking your tongue with his.
I’ve spent too many weeks worrying about accepting help from Wes, because I didn’t want to appear weak. And the whole time he’s only been desperate to show how much he loves me.
The realization brings a groan from the depths of my chest.
“What?” he asks, nuzzling my cheek.
“I love you.”
“But…?” He chuckles.
“But I’m an idiot. Having your dick in my ass has never insulted my manhood. But letting you pay for my hospital bill made me feel crazy.”
Wes laughs and then chews on my ear. “If I set it up so that our whole rent check comes automatically out of my trust fund, will you lose your shit? That’s what I want to do.
Because then when you buy the groceries I won’t have to ask you to save the receipts.
What if we just stopped keeping track? Isn’t that what married people do? ”
“I guess?” All the implications of marrying Wes are threatening to make my head explode.
He must sense it, too, because he goes back to kissing me. Eventually we fall asleep like that—face to face, tangled up together.
When Wes’s alarm goes off at six-thirty, we both groan.
He hits snooze and I bury my face in the pillow.
We lie there half-asleep for a while, clumsily stroking each other’s warm skin.
Sex sounds like a nice idea, but we’re both a little too tired to make it happen.
And when his alarm goes off for the third time, he grumbles and gets up.
I don’t, though. My flight doesn’t leave for another four hours. So I doze while listening to Wes shower and pack up. Eventually there comes a beefy knock on the door. “Dudes! I have vitamin C!”
Wes actually opens the door to Blake, damn him. And the room is now filled with Blake-chatter. Vitamin C is coffee, though, and the scent of it begins to stir me into consciousness.
“Aw, who’s a sleepyhead?” Blake crows, flopping onto Wes’s empty side of the bed. “Caffeine, J-Bomb! I brought you a cappuccino.”
“You make it difficult to hate you,” I mumble into the pillow.
“That’s what everyone says.” He grabs my bare shoulder with one of his big mitts and shakes me.
“Stop.” I yank the covers higher. “Or I won’t invite you to the wedding.”
“To the…? OH MY GOD!”
I’ve obviously made an enormous tactical error, because now Blake Riley—all two-hundred-odd, suit-wearing pounds of him—gets to his feet and begins jumping on the bed.
I open my mouth to yell at him, but it’s difficult to pronounce words when he’s yelling, “Fuck yeah!” and I’m being shaken like a pair of shoes in a dryer.
“Kn…Knock…it…OFF!” I manage to yodel.
And Wes is no help because he’s on the hotel phone for some reason. He hangs up just as I hear an awful crack, like wood breaking in two. The bed lists awkwardly and Blake goes bouncing to the floor.
“Don’t worry! I’m unhurt!” he yells from somewhere down there on the expensive carpeting.
Wes and I lock eyes, our expressions a matching mix of humor and horror. “Blake, you broke the bed,” Wes says with a sigh. “That’s going on your bill, not mine.”
“Won’t be the first time,” he says, picking himself up from the floor and straightening his tie.
“At least you broke furniture and not my fiancé. We’ve had enough of hospitals.”
“I’m just so happy for you guys.” He grabs Wes and lifts him off the ground to hug him.
Wes looks over Blake’s shoulder at me and rolls his eyes. When his feet touch the floor again, he shoos Blake toward the hallway. “Grab the elevator, would you? We should go.”
Blake gives us both a big grin. “Kiss ’im goodbye for now, but not for long!” He grabs his own coffee cup and then dances out of the room.
“Whew,” Wes says, glancing around. It’s like the aftermath of a tornado. Sudden silence and some wreckage. I’m still in the bed but it slopes uncomfortably. My boyfriend walks around to perch very carefully on the edge beside me. “I have to go.”
I smile up at his handsome face. “I know. I’ll see you tonight. The cheapest ticket had a layover in Chicago. So I’ll be a while.”
He puts a hand on my hair and runs his fingers through it. “Don’t miss your connection. I’ll be waiting.” He gives me a sexy smile.
My dick perks up at the sound of that. “Don’t worry.” I tug him down for a kiss. He tastes like toothpaste.
“Mmh,” he says when we finally break apart. “Listen, room service is coming in an hour. My dead grandfather wants you to have a good breakfast before your flight.”
I smile while he kisses me a second time. “Tell him thank you for me.”
Wes sighs and traces my cheek with his thumb. “Later.”
“Indeed.”
When the door clicks shut behind him, I’m still smiling.