Chapter 9
NINE
WINNIE
What Takes Too Long?
Wilder West is in my bed, and he’s not even snoring. I mean, with a name like that, can he be more perfect? I clearly freaking can’t be perfect because, as per usual, my mouth opened and the truth fell out.
Zero vodka required.
I’ve known West for over a decade. He’s supported my stunted, shitty family through both of Cord’s accidents and operations.
He got my brother back up on his feet, literally, from a wheelchair.
He held Coyote Falls together and sweated into the foundations of my brother’s home when he couldn’t keep it together any longer.
He was there for me when I needed someone to stand behind me as my life fell apart after Sally was born.
And never, not once in all that time, did Wilder West ask anything of me.
What did I give him? A basketload of sass while my life erupted around me because of my crappy choices. And yet after everything, here he is in my bed, not snoring, looking sexy as a cowboy can possibly be, sans those utterly hideous pink shorts.
“I can feel you looking at me.” West doesn’t crack an eyelid. “Do I smell bad?”
I poke his ribs. Not even ticklish, dammit. “Nope. You can’t even claim to be stinky.”
“See?” He stretches across my bed, his feet dangling off the end of the single that contains me just fine. “I’m too sexy for—”
“Not those damn shorts. I’ll find you something of my brother’s to wear home.”
West grimaces and peers at me through slitted eyes. “I’ll never fit in his skinny jeans. He’s built like a twig, for fuck’s sake.”
I nod emphatically, wiggling my own thick thighs that are far from twiglike. “I’ve been telling him for years that he’s adopted.”
“Ha. You’re both Rand genes all over. Don’t give me that shit.” West rolls toward me, naked as the day he was born, and loops an arm around my waist that’s longer than it has any right to be. “Come here, girl. I’m cold.”
“Liar. You are not,” I sass him, wriggling in his arms. Then… I stop. There’s no reason to fight him after a while, and lying still is…
Nice.
I don’t think I’ve ever done nice before, and cuddling has never been on my radar. I play with the hairs on his arms. “So, this is new.”
“Which bit?”
I elbow him lightly in the ribs. That earns me a reaction. West oofs in my ear and I grin. “The snuggly bit. This bit. I don’t have a clue what comes next.” My knees draw up toward my chest.
West leans over me and pushes my legs down with a gentle but firm hand.
“To start with, don’t you tense up on me.
Not unless my cock is lodged in this pussy and you’re milking me after I’ve made you come again.
You understand me, Winnie?” His voice lowers a few notches, one hand drifting up over my ribs to wrap around my breast.
My breath hitches as he toys with my nipple. “Yeah. I got it.” I grip his wrist like I’ll be swept away by a current that originates with him if I don’t.
Being played with constantly is also a new sensation. Overwhelm is setting in… but then it doesn’t. West is a master at drifting close to the edge and then bringing me back before I topple over, and not just in the sense of too many orgasms. He knows just how much I can take before I have to stop.
I fall silent for long enough that West sighs. Then he rolls—pulling me beneath him. I squeak as I’m suddenly face-to-face with the man I don’t want to look at because of everything I said hours before. Everything I admitted to.
Everything he knows now that I can never take back.
“You think as loudly as you talk.” Hard, rough hands cup my jaw, and callused thumbs smooth over my cheeks in such a tender motion that I want to cry.
No tearing up on the nice cowboy who gave you so many good orgasms.
More orgasms than I ever got from Brad in all our years together. I know. I counted.
“It’s a habit.” I shrug as though being exposed and naked beneath West is a regular thing. Like feeling his body pressed to mine is… more than a world-bending experience.
Because he feels so goddamn warm and safe—
“You can’t stay,” I blurt, and close my eyes.
West waits. Damn him.
I squish my eyes shut and hold my breath.
“Winnie,” West says after a few seconds. Amusement laces his tone.
“Mm-hmm?” I murmur through shut lips.
“How long are you not going to breathe for?”
I shrug and burrow deeper into my bed, pretending not to feel West nudge my legs apart, or the pressure of him between my thighs. Or the way his cock nestles against my entrance and—
“Ohhh,” I whisper as he pushes forward.
Not enough to push in, just enough to tease the ever-loving fuck out of us both. A shuddering breath passes between us as I reach for my purse.
West shoves a foil packet into my hand. “Way ahead of you, Rand.” His gray eyes glitter at me. “Do the honors?”
I lick my lips. “Yes, sir.” The sass just falls on out. It’s natural.
The growl that erupts from West’s lips is nothing short of feral. Thick fingers lace in my hair as he rocks back onto his knees to give me space to work. Those same fingers massage my scalp as I reach for him, but the moans that tumble between us are mine.
His touch is the ultimate distraction. I fumble more than once, trying to roll the condom over his erect cock while he digs the pads of his strong fingers into my scalp in the sort of massage a hairdresser would be revered for. I mean, I’m the one kneeling and—
I moan, leaning forward and licking the tip of his cock. His groan is worth overbalancing and nearly impaling myself throat-deep on him. The fingers tangled in my hair pull me back enough to save me and then slowly lever me forward.
I let him take control, pressing my thighs together, but no amount of rubbing is enough to alleviate the pressure building there.
“Please, I need you,” I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes.
“Yeah.” He swallows hard as I suck him down and come back up for air. “Hell, girl. You’re torture like that.” West pulls me back. “Use your hands?”
It takes me a second to work out that he means the condom.
I nod and finally manage to unravel the thing, sliding it over the thick length.
He lets me play with him, squeezing my hand around his girth with light fingers.
West’s eyes drift shut and his head falls back on a groan.
Suddenly his hand closes on mine in a tight grip.
He pumps our joined hands on his cock once, then again, but then he pushes my hand away.
“I wanna last for you,” he says hoarsely. “Crawl to the edge of the bed.”
I watch him as I back toward the edge of the bed. He swings his legs off and grabs my hips, running his hands along my sides and down the backs of my thighs. I shiver when he traces his fingers along my slit, gathering my arousal and spreading it around.
“West,” I whimper.
“Turn around.” He positions me at the edge of the bed and then pushes me forward.
I bow at the waist, letting my top half fall forward. My forearms balance me, the sensation of his thumb skating along my spine drawing a cry from my lips.
West mutters something I don’t understand, and then he notches at my entrance and pushes into me with a swift thrust. Pleasure builds fast inside, but unlike the first time, he doesn’t draw it out.
I cry out into my hands, but when that isn’t enough to suppress my sounds, I stretch forward and grab a pillow to stuff my face into.
The hand traveling along my spine grips my neck and pushes me face down into the pillow as West arcs his body over mine. “Turn your head to the side so you can breathe, gorgeous. But scream quietly so I can fuck you hard.”
I grip the arm he slides beneath me, using it as leverage, and do as he says. Because when West really starts to fuck me, I need to hold on.
What we did earlier was sweet. Gentle, compared to now. I sensed then that he held back, eased his way into me. Now… West unleashes everything he reserved.
Hands grip me tight enough to bruise, but in the best of ways. Roughened fingers dig into soft flesh as he withdraws, slow and long. Before he slams back into me, I ignore his command and turn my face into the pillow, already letting out a long moan.
That noise complaint is not coming from my neighbors today, and not for this.
West slams home and my scream tears my throat.
I claw the sheets and mattress beneath the pillow as he sets a punishing rhythm that’s all him.
And I won’t have him any other way. My body clamps down on him, an involuntary reaction I can’t help as he groans low.
The pad of his thumb rubs circles on my nape, the sweet, firm pressure at odds to the way he ruins me from behind.
“Fuck, Winnie. You’re my new addiction.” His growl is everything. I don’t want this to end, but I know it will. He’ll have to leave and I need to kick him out.
This is a one-day event at best. But for right now, I memorize the feel of every inch of him, and how many of those does this cowboy have? It’s not fair. I’ll never look at another male specimen the same for the rest of my life.
Ever. Freaking. Again.
My orgasm doesn’t sneak up on me. It uncoils like a sleeping beast, hot and damning. I sneak a hand between my legs, too impatient to wait. Aching for a release that’s so close. West’s grip clamps on the back of my neck, pressing me harder into the pillow.
“Make yourself come first and I’ll spank this ass until you’re sopping for me,” he rasps above me.
My fingers never stop, stroking around my slippery clit. The mess of us mingles and I’m already so close. So, so close—
His hand slaps down on my ass as promised, but he doesn’t wait until I’m there, anticipating my orgasm. And he’s right.
The barrier between pain and pleasure blurs. Heat flushes me in both directions at once as his weight bears down, his cock filling me impossibly. My scream is muffled by the pillow, but it’s his laugh I hear, soft and low, as I come from his spanking.
“So fucking beautiful, Winnie. We’re gonna do that again.” West licks a path along my spine and slides his hand gently around my throat, arching my back.
My nipples graze the pillow, the contact aching and torturous at once in a deluge of overstimulation. I whimper as he seats himself deep inside me and refuses to move.
“West.” I wiggle my hips, trying to entice him.
His laugh will haunt me.
“Need more, you greedy, gorgeous girl?” His kisses trail along my throat, over my bare shoulders. I moan softly, tipping my head all the way back to grant him access. “Fuck, that’s beautiful. Give me nights like this, and I’ll never want to leave.” His hips drive forward, his length thickening.
I grip the heavily muscled forearm that wraps tight like a steel band, holding me in place while he wrecks us both.
And I let him.