Chapter 20
TWENTY
RILEY
H aving sex with Wesley tonight was definitely not on my Pointebreak bingo card, but I couldn’t have stopped it even if I tried.
I like him. God, do I like him. Even over the course of a week, he’s changed how he acts around me.
While Zander keeps his distance and only interacts when he needs to, and Julien is still his annoying brutish self—Wesley has become someone I feel I can rely on.
And that scares me. I’m falling hard and fast for him.
He’s the first guy since Rhys that I’ve felt like this with.
And now I feel like a jerk for thinking of someone else after I just had the most mind blowing sex of my life.
He gets off the bed after the giggles subside to get a face cloth to clean me up.
I really could use a shower, but this is a start.
I lay still, my face flaming as he drags the warm cloth between my sore thighs.
It’s so intimate, it should be illegal. Like we’ve crossed some invisible line we can’t uncross.
He tosses it back in the bathroom, grabs some clothes from his drawer and gives me one of his large t-shirts to throw on as he pulls up a pair of boxers and lies on the bed.
I look down at it, unsure what this means. “Are you sure? I don’t mind going back to my room. I’m not sure the others would like that I’m here.”
He tucks some hair behind my ear and places a kiss to my lips. “Positive. Let me deal with them. Plus, you already told Ava you wouldn’t be home.”
He has a point; I just don’t want to cause any ripples between them.
After pulling the soft fabric over my head, he pulls me against him on the bed.
I curl up against his side and play with some tattoos I can reach.
He has a lot of them. Most of them are black, but he has a few that are loaded with colors.
It’s beautiful actually. Whoever the artist is did a fantastic job.
“Tell me something real,” he says.
There’s something in the way he says it, quiet and unguarded, that makes my heart twist. Like he needs to hear something honest to believe this.
Like he wants to tether himself to me in a way that goes deeper than skin.
And for a second, I want to give him that.
Something true, just for him. Not the superficial crap, or the stuff everyone’s read in the newspaper or online about my family, but something specific to me.
Something no one knows. After two killer orgasms, I feel like I could tell him practically anything. Orgasms must be a truth serum.
I go to speak, and James’ warning comes back to haunt me.
Don’t trust too easily. Nothing about Wesley and his group of friends is easy.
Nothing about my situation is easy, but he makes it bearable.
And I hate the fact that I’m truly falling for this man, even though I know I shouldn’t.
He’s going to cause nothing but heartbreak in my future.
My father would never accept a man like Wesley.
He doesn’t fit the cookie cutter image Michael likes to highlight.
“How about I go first?” He offers as my mind races through thought after thought. If left to my own devices, I’m sure I’d stumble down a rabbit hole and start rethinking every step I’ve taken since arriving here.
I clear my throat. “Sure.”
“As you wish,” he says as he nudges my shoulder. Then waits.
I draw my brows together as I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. “Okay. Are you gonna tell me something?”
“I did.”
“Huh?” I ask again, confusion clouding every feature and thought.
“Princess Bride? The movie?”
I smile warmly, realization finally clicking. “Wesley,” I say with a fondness to my voice. He nods. “You’re named after Wesley from The Princess Bride?” Another gleeful giggle bubbles out of me and I bury my face in his chest, inhaling him.
“My mom loved the movie. My dad promised her if they had another boy, she could name him after Wesley.” His smile falters as he looks down at me.
“What about your brother?”
“Dead.” He speaks the word in the same sense. Dead. No emotion.
I kiss his chest and look up into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Wesley.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He looks up at the ceiling, his hand casually running up and down my back.
Shit, that got deep fast. I need to say something to get us away from this awkwardness. I want to know more, and I’m sure if, given the time, he’ll open up to me.
“My mom’s dead too.” I take a deep breath.
“While that's well known, I have my doubts it was accidental.” I shudder and he holds me tighter, so I continue. If I share, maybe he will too. “She died when I was eight. It was a car accident. Rainy night, hard to see and all that jazz.” I grit my teeth to stop my chin from trembling and close my eyes, trying to remember the facts I’ve been told.
“She was hit from behind and her car flipped a few times before landing in a ditch. Died instantly. Or that’s what I was told. ”
“Jesus, Riley. I’m so sorry.” He pulls me tighter against him.
I hold my breath, warding off the tears that want to spill over.
“I haven’t talked about my mom in so long, I’ve forgotten little things about her.
Her smell, her smile, the songs she would sing me to sleep.
” I smile sadly at the memory. “Dad bought me a music box with the lullaby she would sing to me, and I used that every night until I was ten.”
“What song?”
“Edelweiss,” I snort and laugh. Just talking about her, even the little things, brings a sense of relief, like a weight has been lifted from my chest. “Sorry.” I shift to sit up and he holds me against him.
“Don’t you dare get up, Hellcat.” So I don’t and I settle back against him.
“She was everything to me. When she left us…my family changed. My dad changed. Slowly, things were different around the house. Different security came in. Guys who were meaner and angrier looking. Most of them scared me. Tighter securities went up. Gates, alarms, all that crap.” I shrug.
“I just assumed because he was a politician that it was normal. But the more I think about it, the more I know…it’s not.
” I want to say so much more, but I hesitate.
I’ve already shared so much with him, and I can’t forget that at the end of the day, he’s friends with Julien, who has it out for me.
He takes a deep breath. “When I was seventeen, my brother, Elias, died.”
I lift my head to look at him. He turns and his icy blue eyes stare into mine. “That had to have been really hard.”
He gives a heavy sigh. “Not as hard as the survivor's guilt I’ve had to deal with for the past four years. Doesn’t help that my family blames me and has told me I should’ve died and not him.
” His body tenses under mine and he tightens his jaw, swallowing hard.
“If I knew it wasn't safe for him to get me that night, I never would have called him. So maybe it is my fucking fault.”
My heart breaks for him. No one should ever be told they should have died. Especially by family, the people that are supposed to love you unconditionally.
I sit up, tossing my leg over him to straddle his hips and take his face in my hands.
“That’s not true, Wes. I know I don’t know a lot about you, but I can tell you that you are loyal to a fault, protective, and love deeply.
You’re a good person and,” I bite my lip, hesitating on my next words, “I-I like you a lot. You’ve been an asshole to me, but you’ve also shown me a different side of you. And that side, I really like.”
Wesley gives me a cocky grin. “Oh, yeah?” He flips me under him and lowers his head to mine for a kiss. I could get used to rolling around mostly with him. And that thought maybe doesn’t scare me as much as it should.
The ache between my thighs is the only indication of how many times Wesley and I had sex.
His breath is still deep and even on my cheek and I slide out of his bed, careful not to disturb him.
I’ve gathered from our talks that sleep is more of a hobby than a habit with Wesley.
Maybe it’s the same for all the guys. I heard someone slam their bedroom door last night just as Wes brought me to another orgasm and demanded I scream his name.
Oops. I hope it was Julien that heard us. The thought makes me smirk.
I freshen up in the bathroom and take a drink of water before tossing on the oversized t-shirt Wesley gave to me last night.
After our last round, we were both so exhausted that we fell asleep with him holding me.
There was no need for clothing. It’s long enough that I can walk around without feeling too indecent.
I don’t want to get back into my jeans just yet.
I wander around, admiring his room. It’s a little disorderly, but not dirty.
Our pile of clothes is proudly on display in the middle of the room and brings a smile to my face.
Five orgasms! Five. That’s how many times Wes got me off.
I have never had that many in one night in my life.
My face flames as I think about everything we did last night and I fan myself. Leah and Ava will never believe this.
There’s nothing too exciting in here. A dresser of drawers, desk, king sized bed, closet, and a few knickknacks.
The only thing that stands out is a picture of a beautiful woman with two young boys on either side of her.
She smiles brightly in the picture. I pick it up and run my finger over the three, instantly picking out Wesley—the little boy with messy hair and a shit-eating grin.
He looks so happy. He can’t be older than eight or nine here.
“That’s my mom.”
I startle and almost drop the frame before catching it and clutching it to my chest. “Jesus, Wes, you scared me.” I place it on his desk and turn to face him. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he gives a non-committal answer.