24. Wes
Chapter twenty-four
Wes
Was I pushing things with how affectionate I was being toward Hadley at dinner tonight?
Maybe. Okay, fine, I was. I’d say it was to keep up the ruse that we’re engaged and in love, but in all honesty, it was because I couldn’t stop touching her.
I kept waiting for her to tell me to stop or push my hand off her thigh during dinner, but she didn’t.
Maybe we’re finally getting somewhere. Maybe she’s finally going to admit to me, and herself, that she likes me.
That we have good chemistry. Maybe I’ll finally get my chance to show her how good we can be together.
A guy can dream, right?
My mind drifts to the job interview she mentioned.
The job that will take her around the world for a year.
Or more. A job she seems enthusiastic about.
One that could lead to complications with our relationship, if we do get that far.
But if that’s what she wants to do, I’d support her however I could.
Would it be tough? It sure as hell would be, but it’s not as though my schedule isn’t busy for a good part of the year anyway.
We’d figure it out. I have enough money that I could fly out to see her on breaks or fly her back here.
We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, though.
I shut off the water, grab my towel, and start to dry off before stepping out of the shower. I pull on a pair of boxers and gray sweatpants once I’m done drying off, skipping a shirt.
Out of habit, I check my phone, and I find an email from my cousin. With shaking hands, I click on it.
Hi, Weston.
It was great to hear from you again. Things are going well—the kids are busy with camp, and Rob, my husband, is busy this time of year with his business. I help him during the summer since I’m not teaching (did I mention I’m an elementary school teacher?)
To answer your question, I didn’t know Uncle Peter very well.
He died when I was in high school. He didn’t marry or have any children, well, except for your dad.
I’m attaching a few photos I have of my grandparents, Uncle Peter, and a woman I’ve never been able to identify. Maybe she was your grandmother?
You mentioned you live in Florida. It must be hot this time of year. Rob and I have been talking about taking the kids on a trip to Disney, but it hasn’t happened yet. What is it you do for a living? Would love to hear more about you. I hope that’s an okay thing to ask. I’m just curious.
Maybe we can arrange a time to video chat?
All the best.
Donna.
I reread the email multiple times before typing out a response, excited that she responded and appears to be interested in getting to know me.
Hi, Donna,
Great to hear from you again. Thanks for the info about my grandfather. At this point, anything you can tell me is helpful since I know nothing about him.
Florida is hot this time of year, but luckily, AC is standard in all homes and businesses so at least we’re comfortable inside. As for what I do for a living, I work for a sports team here. Keeps me busy.
You asked for more about me. I’m not married, although I’m dating an amazing woman who I hope to one day marry. No kids. No siblings either. I grew up in Anchorage but moved to Florida for this job. That was an adjustment. I travel a lot for work, so for some of the year, I’m extremely busy.
I would love to arrange a time to video chat. Let me know what days and times you’re available, and I’ll see what I can make work.
Weston.
The more I email back and forth with Donna, the more real it feels that I actually have family. Distant family, but it means I’m not alone anymore.
My mind drifts to years down the line when maybe Donna and her family come to Florida, and I get to meet them. Maybe I could travel to Missouri.
“Weston Andrew, do you want dessert?” Hadley’s voice is muffled from the other side of my door.
Yes.
I toss my phone down onto the bed, hop to my feet, and pull open the door.
My breath catches in my throat. She’s wearing a faded Storm shirt and a pair of very short shorts.
“What are you offering?” My gaze trails down her body.
“Brownies are in the oven, and there’s chocolate ice cream to go with them. Unless you’re more of a vanilla guy.”
“Nah, not a vanilla guy.” I bounce my eyebrows. “Are you sure you know how to make brownies?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I think I know how to read the instructions on the box.”
“Good, because I don’t like burnt brownies. I prefer them moist.” I take a step forward.
She licks her lips, and my cock starts to harden. “Me too.”
We stare at each other, so close yet so far away. It feels as though we’re standing on a precipice.
“Hadley,” I say. I want to get everything out in the open, but the oven timer starts beeping, interrupting my plan.
“Shit,” she mutters. “Be right back.” She winks at me before turning and heading toward the kitchen.
I heave out a breath. Get your shit together, Weston. I stalk after her and pause in the doorway to admire the view—Hadley bent over, her ass barely contained by her shorts, peering through the oven door. I scrub a hand over my face. I could get used to that sight.
“Watch it, tornado. You might burn yourself.” I come up behind her and grip her hips.
She wiggles her ass back, making contact with my half-hard dick, and I swear she lets out a low moan before she collects herself and glares at me over her shoulder. “I got it.”
“Oh, really?” I take a step back so she can straighten up.
She spins around so we’re chest to chest. I want so desperately to kiss her again. Have since I left her room last night.
She loops her arms around my neck, her tits brushing against my chest, and even though she’s wearing a shirt, I can feel her hard nipples.
“Careful, tornado.” I lean closer to her, whispering in her ear, “Maybe I wasn’t talking about the oven when I said you might burn yourself.”
She shivers, her eyes flaring before her gaze dips down to my mouth and then back up. She licks her bottom lip.
“Maybe I want to be burned,” she husks out, then she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses me.
It only takes me a few seconds to catch on to what’s going on, and when I do, I pull her closer, banding my arms around her waist. Her fingers spear into my hair.
I groan, and she licks into my mouth. I meet her stroke for stroke, letting her take charge for a few seconds.
Our kiss turns frantic, and she grinds against me.
The oven timer starts blaring, and she pulls away with a whispered, “Fuck.”
I let her go because I’d rather not have burnt brownies or have the smoke alarm going off. I take a step back to give her room to take the pan out of the oven.
“They have to cool,” she says, turning to face me.
“Hmmm,” I hum.
“Take me to your bedroom, Weston.”
“You sure about this, Hadley Jane? This is crossing a line we agreed not to cross.” But one I really, really want to cross with you.
“I know.” She holds out her hand. “But I can’t keep up this charade anymore. I want you, and after last night, I know you want me too.” Her focus drops to my hard dick that I know she can see pushing against my sweats. “But it’s just sex. That’s it. I can’t offer you anything else.”
I swallow. No. I want to date you.
“Sex with you sounds good.”
In one swift movement, I lift her up and turn toward my room.
“I can walk,” she protests, swatting at my chest.
I chuckle, striding into my bedroom. “Maybe I enjoy taking care of you.” I set her on her feet. “Now strip.”
Ever so slowly, she lifts the edge of her shirt up and over her head, and I get my first glimpse of her tits. Glorious tits that I can’t wait to lavish with attention. As I take her in, she pushes her shorts down her legs and steps out of them.
“No underwear?” I raise an eyebrow. “Do you always skip underwear?”
She smirks, then her gaze drops to the engagement ring she’s still wearing.
“Nope, keep the ring on,” I demand, my dick getting even harder at the thought of fucking her while she’s wearing it. I know our engagement is fake. But that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend it’s not. That she really is my fiancée.
Just for tonight.
Just for right now.