Chapter 13 Weston
Weston
This was what pure euphoria felt like.
Savannah’s body was soft and pliant in my hands, her lips tequila-slicked and desperate against mine. She tasted like perfection, like the past and the future blurring together.
She tasted like home.
She let out a breathy sigh that sent my blood roaring in my veins. She thought I didn’t get it? That I didn’t understand the suffocation she felt? If only she knew how much she consumed every piece of me, every corner of my life.
I was going to show her just how deep under my skin she was.
Pinning her to the wall, my lips glided along her jaw and down her neck. She always loved having her neck kissed, and I wanted to see if she still did. She was panting, her hands trembling against my chest.
“Weston,” she breathed as I nipped her ear.
“I’m here, angel.” My voice was hardly recognizable. Rough with need only Sav could bring out in me. All my blood rushed south from the little whimper she made, my head light and airy.
My hand moved down along her back, taking a handful of her full ass. My fingers brushed past the hem of the tiny skirt she had on. Such a fucking tease, my Sav.
She gripped my shirt, dragging me back to her lips like she couldn’t get enough. I groaned at the heat of her brushing against me when she hiked a leg up over my hip. There was no way she couldn’t feel how hard I was for her.
She was so needy, so perfect, so fucking mine.
A ragged moan ripped its way out of my throat as she ground her hips into mine. My eyes rolled shut, stars bursting behind my eyelids. She gasped against my lips, doing it again.
Fingers digging into her hips, I dragged her against me harder. Her body shuddered, moans ringing along the brick walls of the alley. “You think that cowboy could’ve had you moaning like this?” I whispered against her skin, kissing her neck. “Think he knows what you like?”
“No,” she whimpered.
I grinned. “Why?”
“B-Because he’s not”—she let out a needy moan, moving faster—“he’s not you.”
If she kept talking like that, I was going to come right here in this fucking alleyway.
I pulled back, looking into her eyes. “That’s right, Sav. No one but me. Just like there’s no one for me but you.”
She let out a little whimper, nodding and threading her fingers through my hair, as she brought my mouth back to hers. I kneaded her bare ass while she ground against me, her little skirt having ridden up, exposing her thong. I wanted to rip it off with my teeth.
It’d be so easy to get on my knees, slide her panties to the side, and bury my head between her legs until they buckled. My dick hardened even more at the thought.
And now that the image was in my head, I couldn’t think about anything else.
“Fuck, Weston,” she cried out, her voice high and strained. Her leg tightened around mine, anchoring herself as she quickened her pace. She was close. Amazing how after all these years, her tells were still the same.
“Need to taste you,” I panted, breaking her hold on me, and I dropped to the ground. “Want you coming on my tongue, angel.”
“Oh God,” she breathed, swaying above me. I looked up at her, and she was absolutely wrecked. Dark eyes hazy with lust, hair wild, makeup smudged. My heart nearly burst.
“You’re stunning,” I whispered, kissing up her thigh before slinging it over my good shoulder. “This okay?”
She nodded quickly, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’ve been dreaming about the way you taste for years, Sav,” I said, voice hoarse, as I pulled her panties aside. I groaned at the sight of her. Her pussy was glistening, and just as mouth-watering as I remembered. “So wet for me.”
“Yeah,” she said, breathless. “Are you just gonna stare, or are you gonna take what’s yours?”
Fuck me, I nearly came right then. I let out a strangled, desperate sound and buried my head between her legs. She gasped as my tongue moved in one long swipe. I reached her clit, and her body jolted, her hand flying to my hair.
She tasted like heaven on my tongue, her little whimpers music to my ears. My grip tightened on her thigh, spreading her wider. “So good,” she cried out, her fingers curling against my scalp, forcing my head closer.
My heart pounded against my ribs. My cock was so hard it hurt while I sucked on her clit the way she liked. It seemed that wasn’t any different either. But her bossy tone and the way she steered me by my hair was new, and I fucking loved it.
I loved her.
“Don’t stop,” she chanted, her voice going higher, rocking her hips against my face. She was delusional if she thought I’d ever stop, if I’d ever let her go after this.
“Oh, fuck, Wes,” she whimpered, her legs clamping around my head as she came, a rush of wetness coating my tongue. I let out a low groan, my cock throbbing at the way she said the name I’d been dying to hear since I first saw her again a month ago.
I backed away, breathing hard and dazed. She slumped against the wall, her legs visibly shaking. A rush of satisfaction ran through me at the sight while I fixed her clothes.
And when I stood, dizzy, I had to brace myself against the wall with my good arm. “Shit,” I rasped, looking down at my jeans.
I came in my fucking pants.
Heat crept up my neck. I sucked my teeth. “Well, that’s embarrassing.” I didn’t even do this when we were fooling around when I was a virgin.
There was a little giggle, and I looked up to find Savannah’s lip between her teeth, staring down at the obvious wet spot. “No. It’s hot.” She grabbed my shirt, pulling me in. “Really hot,” she said and kissed me hard.
I didn’t know where we stood now or what this meant, but I couldn’t care when her lips were on mine.
I woke up refreshed for the first time in weeks, possibly months. The only thing that would’ve made it better was if Sav had been in bed next to me, but she went home with Delilah not long after we left the alley.
Delilah took one look at how disheveled Savannah was, then the wet spot on my jeans, and said, “Oh, we’re so back,” and emptied a Pixy Stick into her mouth. Not sure what she meant by that, but everything had been a little hazy after Savannah kissed me.
Savannah kissed me. She kissed me. Not the other way around.
And it had been the best kiss of my life right after our first one.
I rolled out of bed and went downstairs after getting dressed, already desperate to see her again. We needed to talk about what happened last night and what it meant for us. If there even was an us. God, I hoped so.
I opened the door and stepped on the newspaper, the title of the Wild Creek Whispers article catching my attention. I picked it up, smirking.
Clean Up on Aisle…Bull Pen
Looks like our beloved dive bar wasn’t the only place getting mopped last night.
Multiple witnesses reported seeing Weston Tate—yes, that Weston Tate—and Savannah Hayes disappear into the alleyway beside the bar around midnight after he ripped another man’s hat off her head.
Twenty minutes later, they reappeared looking disheveled and significantly less tense. If only the walls could talk.
Rumors have been flying about the pair for weeks, after our Pbr star’s rodeo blunder, with whispers of a shared past no one seemed to know about. But if Savannah’s blissful smile and Weston’s swollen lips mean anything, there is something definitely happening now.
What does this mean for her life back in Dallas? Or for the integrity of that brick wall? Only time (and possibly a structural engineer) will tell.
Like always, if it’s worth whispering, it’s worth writing down.
-WCW
I ran a hand over my mouth, laughing. “Goddamn, they’re fast.” I never cared for the Whispers, but now that I’d been put in it with Sav, I couldn’t help but find it amusing. Was this how Beau felt when they wrote about him and Claire?
I wanted to show it to Sav and get her reaction.
The sun hadn’t been up long, bathing the world in a golden glow. Or maybe that was just me and how damn good I felt. Every time I shut my eyes, I was back in that alley, with my girl in my arms.
I felt like frolicking or jumping and clicking my fucking heels together.
I was walking up the porch steps to the Hayes house when I heard a horse whinny in the barn and a low curse that sounded almost like the ones I heard last night.
When I walked into the barn, Savannah was trying to mount a horse and was doing a miserable job at it.
She was dressed in one of those workout sets that had my hands itching to touch her.
Not proper riding clothes in the slightest, but so much better.
And the blue was, oddly enough, close to my eye color. Had she done that on purpose?
She gave another little hop, trying to pull herself up into the saddle, and sighed when it didn’t work.
I chuckled. “They make step stools, you know,” I said, leaning against a post close by.
She jumped and gave me a sheepish look. “Hi.” She looked anywhere but at me, with a subtle flush to her cheeks. The shy girl I was more familiar with wasn’t completely gone after all. “I haven’t ridden in eleven years. Kinda rusty,” she said, her voice a little breathless.
I pushed off the post and walked towards her. “Not the only thing you haven’t done in a while, but you remembered how to kiss me just fine.”
She dropped her phone and scrambled to pick it up, clearly flustered. I loved that I could still rattle her. “That was—”
“Amazing.” “A mistake.” We said at the same time.
I froze. The newspaper slid out of my hand to the floor with a smack. “A mistake? You thought that was a mistake?”
She looked down at the ground. “I was drunk and you showed up all territorial and ‘my girl’, and I just…” She shook her head, letting the words die.
“So what? You would’ve let just anyone do that last night?”
She gasped, giving me an offended look. “No!”
“Well, that’s what you’re making it sound like,” I ground out, pissed at the thought of anyone else touching her like that.