15. Atlanta Ain’t for the Faint of Heart
CELESTE
The restof the day passed in a whirlwind. Nana, Wes, and I went home to pack for a few days in Atlanta, though we weren’t entirely sure how long we would be staying. Today should have been the first day of school, but if Daddy was going to be undergoing treatment so far away for the foreseeable future, I had no idea how I was supposed to concentrate on school back home. Nana said we would figure it out once we knew more. She also had the wherewithal to call Marla at The Comfy Cushion with an update. Marla swore up and down it was no trouble, that she would take care of the restaurant for the next few days until we had more answers. She promised to talk to the other waitresses to see if they could pick up more hours this week, too.
“Worst case scenario,” Marla added, “we can always change the operating hours and close on the weekends.”
My heart dropped to my stomach at the suggestion. Could we afford for the restaurant to be closed like that? Before I could ask Nana, however, Wes chimed in.
“It’s normal for business owners to take time off, Lovebug. Your customers aren’t going anywhere else.”
I cocked my head to the side, peering at him quizzically. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Lovebug’?”
Wes shrugged. “If you can be your daddy’s sugar bee, you can be my lovebug.”
That was another thing to contend with. Desiree was going to lose her mind if she heard Wesley speak to me like that. Not to mention how catty and cruel Hillary could be. I had already fallen out of their good graces, but this seemed more like I was stoking the fire.
Yet feeling love and cherished during something so horrible was also like a lifeline. It kept the darkness at bay that had been gone since I met Wes after Mama’s passing. I could see it swirling off in my periphery, waiting to swarm over me and suffocate me in its depths. And I refused to live like that again.
The flight to Atlanta was quick, but mottled with tension. Hillary went into a total meltdown when Desiree told her she wasn’t coming with us. She threatened to trash all of Desiree’s things while she was gone, screaming and stomping like a toddler. More than once I heard Nana muttering that some kids deserve whippings and Wesley outright labeled Hillary as a diva. I had secondhand embarrassment from watching her.
Oddly enough, though, Desiree stuck to her guns and stated Hillary couldn’t come. She made arrangements for Jeremy and Hillary to both stay with their grandparents on their daddy’s side until we got back. It gave me a sliver of hope that perhaps something good would come of this as far as Desiree was concerned. Maybe she and I could find some common ground if Hillary wasn’t there to make everything a contest.
That all disintegrated the moment Desiree’s hateful gaze fell on me, however. She glanced at Nana as though considering her words with care before whispering, “I’m watching you, Celeste. Never forget that,” and then taking a seat in the back of the plane.
I had never been on a plane before to compare it to the Madden family jet, but it was surprisingly spacious and comfortable. We discovered that Nana was a nervous flyer as she white-knuckle gripped both her armrests for the duration of the flight. One side of the plane had seating similar to a couch, which Wesley made me use to nap while using a pillow on his lap. His long fingers stroked my hair the entire time, soothing me enough to actually fall asleep. Wheels up to wheels down (a term I learned from the jovial pilot I met upon boarding) was only 45 minutes. Much faster than we ever could have made it by car.
A sleek black Cadillac Escalade met us right on the tarmac when we landed, complete with a red carpet at the foot of the stairs. Several skyscrapers could be seen in the distance, which already looked intimidating from so far away. There were far more trees than I imagined for a big city, but the airport loomed enormous and imposing ahead of us. Wesley laughed at how big my eyes widened trying to take it all in.
One of Mr. Madden’s drivers opened the doors for us, with Desiree insisting on getting in first, and he then loaded our bags into the back. The drive from the airport to Emory University Hospital should have been short given its proximity, but traffic was backed up for several miles. The highway was the largest I had ever seen and there were so many cars on the road that I felt anxiety for the first time in my life from being inside a vehicle. It seemed impossible we wouldn’t be involved in an accident from one of the numerous drivers weaving in and out of lanes far too quickly for everyone’s own good.
I tried not to gape at it all. I didn’t want Wesley to notice my rising panic.
Desiree complained the entire drive. The car was too hot, then it was too cold, and then the high population of the city was the root of all evil in the world. She spoke as if she frequented the area and knew firsthand what went on inside the city limits. Mr. Madden’s driver never said a word in response beyond a polite “yes” or “no, ma’am.” It made me wonder if he was paid to be silent or if he was so used to someone like Wes’ daddy that Desiree’s whining rolled right off him like butter. I made a mental note to ask Wesley about it at some point.
When we arrived at the hospital, a man with gorgeous terra cotta skin in a three piece navy suit waited for us at the entrance to the hospital. He had a blue tooth device hooked onto his ear and a tablet in his hand.
Wesley greeted the man with a sardonic smile. “Phillip, you didn’t need to spy on me, too. Surely the hospital staff will do enough of that.”
Phillip rolled his eyes. “Your father demoted me to being your PA since we are apparently ‘so close.’” He used finger quotations as he said it. “Do me a favor and let him know what excellent service I provide you so that I can return to my original position, please.”
No one else could have picked up on the faint blush of shame that bloomed across Wesley’s cheeks, but I noticed it right away. Taking his hand in mine, I gave it a gentle squeeze of comfort.
“I’m Celeste,” I introduced myself, holding out my other hand to shake Phillip’s.
That helped bring Wesley back into focus. “Yeah, sorry, I had a brain fart for a second. Phillip, this is my girlfriend, Celeste, and this is her grandmother, Suzanne, and her daddy’s fiancée, Desiree.” The way he said Desiree’s name reminded me of how a child reports finding dog poop in the yard. I had to fight the urge to laugh.
My soon to be stepmother pushed between Wes and me to stand directly in front of Phillip, though she eyed me as she corrected, “Celeste is not his girlfriend. She’s not allowed to date. We can do introductions later; I need to see Doug right away.”
Emory University Hospital Midtown was bigger than any building I had ever seen. Hallways went on forever, turning into different wings, and there were signs indicating special clinics and medical disciplines for as far as the eye could see. It was overwhelming to take in, especially given the hundreds of people that were hurrying along. And everyone seemed to be hurrying, lending to an atmosphere that felt like its own electric pulse. Thankfully, Phillip knew how to efficiently get to Daddy’s room and I didn’t need to interrupt the flow of traffic by asking for directions I’d never be able to follow.
Once inside, we found Daddy already sitting up with another IV hooked into the vein in his elbow. The lights in the room were dim, but I could tell it was significantly bigger than Smithson General. There was a separate seating area that had a kitchenette along one wall and an enormous bathroom with a marble tub. Everything looked sleek and modern, more high tech than anything I had ever seen. The flat screen tv’s (yes, there were multiple) were all bigger than the television we had back home. Floor to ceiling windows provided a panoramic skyline of downtown Atlanta, but there was some sort of screen behind the glass that darkened the view. A woman in a plain gray dress was holding a tablet in front of Daddy and explaining the different functions as we entered.
Desiree’s eyes narrowed on the woman, who looked to be approximately 25 years old or so, and had very pretty curls cascading down her back. The woman did not look back at us or stop her explanation. Desiree made a great fuss over clearing her throat and adjusting the neckline of her top before she rushed to my daddy’s side with an emotional, “Darling!” She all but cooed as she rounded the bed to stand across from the woman and pepper his face with kisses. I noticed with disgust that they left lipstick residue on his cheeks.
“And…you are?” Desiree coldly asked the woman.
Wesley snorted low beside me, shaking his head in disbelief.
None of it seemed to phase the woman, however. She flashed Desiree a bright smile and held out her hand. “As I was explaining to Mr. Hendricks, my name is Willow and I am his personal concierge for the duration of his stay. I will attend to anything and everything Mr. Hendricks needs so that he can focus solely on feeling better. There’s no need to fret when I’m around!” Willow turned her bright smile on Daddy and if I knew how to gamble, I’d be willing to bet that Daddy blushed a little in response.
Pure, unadulterated hatred spread across Desiree’s heavily manicured face. “We won’t be needing your services,” she seethed. “Doug has me…his fiancée.” Ever so casually, Desiree’s diamond ring slid down Daddy’s arm until it was front and center in Willow’s face.
I’ve seen dogs and cats piss to mark their territory more times than I could remember. It never occurred to me that humans needed to do the same thing.
Willow’s smile never broke, though, I’ll give her that. She nodded and enthusiastically gushed, “Congratulations on the upcoming nuptials! However, I will be staying until Dr. Hassan says otherwise as my services are required by the Madden family.” She turned to give the rest of us a friendly wave, nodding to Phillip as though they were already acquainted, then provided Daddy with another even brighter smile. “I’ll be right back with some refreshments for you and your guests, Mr. Hendricks!”
As soon as the door closed behind her, Desiree’s eyes flashed. “Douglas Hendricks, were you just flirting with that simpering idiot right in front of me?!”
For once, Daddy didn’t rise to her screeches and instead turned towards me. “Sugar bee! I’ve got a hug here with your name on it!”
A sob involuntarily escaped my throat as I threw myself into his waiting arms. I let the smell of Daddy, that Georgia pine flavor, wash over me and allowed myself to hope for just a moment that everything could be okay. Yes, we were in a fancy hospital in a big city to seek treatment for a brain tumor. But in that hug, I could pretend to be six years old again and allow my daddy’s presence to assure me that we were all safe.
“Mr. Hendricks, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to take Celeste back to my house so she can get some real sleep in one of our guest rooms. Nana, too,” Wesley’s voice cut in.
I pulled away to look at him in surprise. “We don’t have to stay here at the hospital?”
Phillip held up the tablet. “I have made arrangements for the family to have the penthouse suite at the Four Seasons hotel nearby, and I am available to take anyone there whenever you would like. Dr. Hassan is scheduled for Mr. Hendricks’ consultation at 4 p.m. after Emory has completed all of their initial testing so there are updated results for Dr. Hassan to examine.”
“He already had tests done!” snapped Desiree. She looked angry almost, enough that I took a step away from Daddy. What had her so wound up?
“Oh, but our machines are much more advanced!” Willow announced as she returned to the room with a rolling cart covered with finger food on a white linen cloth. She wheeled everything closest to Daddy and whispered conspiratorially, “I’ll make you a plate first since you’re the man of the hour!”
Daddy giggled. My grown father actually giggled.
Desiree started to open her mouth, but Daddy cut her off. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let Willow ease some things for us. And Wes, I think that’s a great idea, as long as Nana can chaperone.”
“Doug!” Desiree scolded in alarm.
“Honey, you heard Phillip. I’m about to go sit through a bunch of tests anyway. All of you should go get some rest. You can’t do me a lick of good pacing in here like a caged lion.” He took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be okay for a few hours. And then you can come back in time for the doctor, right, Phillip?”
The assistant nodded. “Absolutely. I will ensure all your needs are met.”
Desiree huffed in annoyance, but didn’t say another word. Her eyes were calculating as they swept up and down Willow’s form before planting a deep kiss right on Daddy’s mouth. I gagged in response and turned to join Wesley. Nana followed close at my heel, mumbling about jealous women.
We made our way out to the elevators and down through the labyrinth of hallways to the same black Escalade waiting by the curb. Once again, the driver opened the door for us, nodding to Wesley.
“Don’t we need to wait for Desiree?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb.
“Phillip has his own car that he’ll transport her in,” Wesley assured me.
I realized belatedly that our hands were still intertwined and resting on his knee. Nana already looked to be half asleep in the seat beside me. She leaned back against the headrest and allowed her eyes to close, a soft snore confirming my suspicions.
The sights of downtown Atlanta could wait. The chance to see Wesley’s home was what excited me at that moment. While he had never sounded particularly fond of it, I knew Wesley spent most of his time there alone since his father was always gone on business. His life before River’s Run fascinated me and I hoped to learn more about it while we were here. It was a welcome distraction from what awaited us back at the hospital later.
Wesley didn’t wait for the driver to open the door when the Escalade pulled up in front of a shiny black skyscraper that stretched towards the clouds. Even with my neck craned all the way back, I couldn’t see the top. He led us through glass doors that two men in crisp white jackets held open for us. Three other men in similar jackets were stationed behind a desk made of black, jagged granite. A glass mosaic with a waterfall cascaded behind them, identifying the building as the M Tower. Although I could see a lobby with four elevators just behind the waterfall, Wesley turned to the left and went through a door that blended in perfectly to the wall.
A sleek gray vestibule surrounded us in front of another elevator. This one had a blue screen on the wall next to it, but no buttons to go up or down. Nana hovered in the doorway behind me, her eyes as wide as mine surely were, too.
“Sorry, Nana, I can’t scan us up if that door is open,” Wesley told her apologetically. She scooted in closer, firmly closing the door behind her, and Wesley let go of my hand to place his on the blue screen. It scanned his entire palm and then the doors opened to an elevator with wood paneling, carpet, and a loveseat.
I gave Wesley a side eye of inquisition before he grinned sheepishly at me as Nana settled into the seat behind us. “It’s a security measure,” he explained. “My father didn’t want anyone to have access to our penthouse. No one can scan in if the door is open because it would be all too easy for someone to sneak inside and jump on the elevator uninvited.”
Nodding as if it made sense, I glanced back at Nana and found her just as awestruck as I was.
The ride to the top was otherwise silent and quick. I never would have known it was an elevator otherwise. I assumed all of them were as clunky and loud as the ones back in River’s Run, but this was efficient and quiet. When it stopped, we stepped out into a similar gray vestibule as below, only larger with a small seating area and a few flower arrangements on glass tables. Another scanner was on the wall next to a sleek wood panel door that opened after Wesley placed his hand on the screen.
Stepping into his home caught me off guard, though I had no idea what to expect. None of it looked real. We walked into a three story living room of glass and white. Windows on both sides were so crystal clear that I was momentarily afraid someone could fall out to their death. A white marbled fireplace roared to life as Wesley stepped further inside, which would have been cozy had it been surrounded by furniture that looked lived in. The circular couch was white leather with a glass coffee table in the middle. Far beyond, I could see an enormous kitchen that opened into the joint dining/living area. The cabinets were all sleek white, shiny enough to reflect the lights hanging from the ceiling, and I knew my mama would have put the stainless steel appliances to good use. The white marble island was large enough to seat ten people, as evidenced by the white leather barstools perfectly posed around it.
As I took it all in, I realized there were no photographs or paintings. No shirts or shoes anywhere, no blankets to curl up with, or any real signs of life. While the entire ambiance was imposing, it grew less impressive as I looked around. It almost felt sterile, like a scene from a catalog meant to feature the items displayed. There were no movie nights or family board games going on in a room like this.
Wesley looked nervous, worrying his bottom lip in a way I rarely saw. He turned around with his arms spread out, halfheartedly explaining, “So this is it.”
Nana had the good grace to pat him gently on the shoulder. “It’s very nice, young man, but I’m gonna fall asleep standing up soon, so why don’t you show me where I can hunker down for a bit.”
Wesley smiled warmly. “Of course, Nana. This way.”
He led us down a hallway behind the kitchen that followed a line of clear windows. I realized as we walked that there was actually a glass encased terrace outside, with small glass tables and chairs place periodically along as if at any given moment someone would want to step out to admire the view. As he walked, Wesley gestured to closed doors to say things like, “Here’s the gym,” or “This is the game room.”
At the end of the hall, it opened into what Wesley called the den. This area looked far more lived-in, with a plush couch, a large screen television mounted on the wall, and several candles that already had burned wicks. A small side table had a display of trophies while a few plaques hung on the wall above it. There were four closed doors along one wall, and a black spiral staircase to my left led up to another level of the penthouse.
“It’s only my dad’s stuff up there, so I wouldn’t bother with it,” Wes offered when he caught me peering up the stairs. “This is primarily the area I stay in whenever I’m here. Nana, you can rest in here.”
Wesley opened the door on the far left and my jaw dropped. It was a bedroom bigger than the entire downstairs of my house. The four poster bed actually had silk curtains hanging that perfectly matched the silk bedspread. It faced out towards another wall of windows that had a matching private terrace. On the opposite end of the room, I could just make out a large bathtub beyond the open doorway.
“There should already be fresh towels and things in there,” Wes said, gesturing towards the bathroom. “And feel free to hang anything up in the closet or put things in the drawers. If you’d like to watch tv, you can press this button and the tv will come up.” He picked up a tablet from the nightstand and showed Nana the icon to press. What I had assumed was a hope chest at the foot of the bed opened up and a flat screen tv rose out of its depths.
Nana whistled. “That’s all too fancy for the likes of me, Wesley. Is there a way to put up some drapes or something? It’s almost blinding in here.”
He grinned at her and pressed another button on the tablet. The windows immediately darkened to almost black, blocking out any view or light from outside. A small row of low lights came to life around the bases of all the furniture, including the bed, making it just enough that you could see where everything was located in the dark. Wes hit a button and the windows returned to normal, flooding the room with sunshine.
“If you hit the button twice, the furniture lights will go out, too.” He enveloped her in a hug before retreating towards the door.
I followed, unsure of what to do. Wes said this was Nana’s room, implying I would have a room of my own.
Nana noticed my hesitation and put her hands on her hips. “I’m telling y’all right now, there ain’t gonna be any funny business, you hear? I’m dead tired and don’t want to stay up to keep my eyes on you. Be respectful and don’t get into any trouble!” She pointed a finger at me in warning. “I mean it, Celeste. Be a good girl.”
I nodded and smiled softly at her. “Of course, Nana. We’re all just gonna get some sleep.”
“In separate rooms,” Wesley added from the doorway.
Nana snorted like she didn’t believe us, but turned towards the bathroom anyway. I joined Wesley at the door and my heart did the fluttering thing again when he returned his hand to mine. It was like they were meant to be joined. Lacing my fingers through his felt was a natural extension of myself.
“Now be a good girl,” he whispered mischievously. My stomach did a somersault at his words.
Wes pulled me to the door on the opposite end of the wall, furthest from Nana’s. “This is my room,” he said quietly. He paused just at the threshold, his shaggy blonde hair enveloping him like a halo as he leaned down to kiss me. His lips were firm, but soft, cutting off the kiss before it could deepen into anything more.
I, on the other hand, was barely keeping a grip on my composure or my sanity. My pulse was racing to the point where I wanted to clock it against a metronome. Nana was only a few doors away, so why did it feel like once I crossed through his door, I would be stepping over the line into something far more serious? Wesley’s bedroom here was almost sacred, the place where he spent the majority of his time, if his recollections were accurate, and it was the most intimate place I would ever be with him. The walls here were way too thick and if Nana was the only adult in the place, we were basically about to be on our own. Nana slept like the dead on a bad night, and given the emotional chaos of the past couple days, I had no doubt that it would require a nuclear missile to wake her up now.
He opened the door, then stood back to allow me entry first. A light switch flicked behind me and I gasped in shock. The entire right side of the room was floor to ceiling windows, but this room was two stories tall. An oversized red sectional dominated the front half of the room, with a projection screen on the wall in front. Glass stairs led up to a loft area in the far corner and an office set up occupied the space beneath. It was all an open concept, but the office and loft both felt like separate rooms within the room. Tall bookcases lined the wall across from me until it reached a door that opened into a bathroom or closet, I couldn’t tell which. The wood floors were so shiny, I could see my own reflection, and when I stepped farther into the room and looked out through the windows, I realized the terrace here was big enough to boast an outdoor kitchen and a rooftop pool. Cabana chairs lined the perimeter that wasn’t encased in glass like the others, but had a wall of ivy for privacy.
It took me several moments to catch my breath. “What’s up there?” I whispered, pointing to the lofted room at the top of the glass stairs. There was no good reason to be whispering, yet I was too awestruck to speak at a normal register.
Wesley came to stand in front of me, all once awkward and unsure. His voice sounded too throaty and deep as he gulped and replied, “My bed.”
My feet moved on their own accord. I could hear the soft pitfalls as he trailed behind me, but I climbed the glass stairs and my heart caught in my throat. The pseudo room was also surrounded on three sides by glass, but it was a white glass you couldn’t see through. A bed larger than any I had ever seen was centered in the space, leaving enough room only to walk around the bed with a nightstand on either side. But that wasn’t the part that had me stunned. Dozens of our photographs, just Wesley and me, hung from wire and twinkling lights along the ceiling. It looked so much like my tower—even like Wes’ bedroom at Aunt Shirley’s—that I wanted to cry.
“I just wanted it to feel like home,” said Wesley from behind me. I turned to find him standing a respectful distance behind me at the top of the stairs, both hands in his pockets. “And well, anywhere you are feels like that. When I first came home for the summer, I asked Mrs. Aguilar to put this together for me.”
That was all it took for my brain to turn to mush and my hormones to throw caution to the winds. I threw my arms around his neck to pull him in for a savage kiss. My fingers threaded themselves through his hair, locking him to me. His resistance dissolved with a groan and he opened his mouth to allow my tongue access. We were in a frenzy of emotions and desire, and when Wesley’s hands slid down to grip my backside, I didn’t hesitate. My hips pushed into his, craving some kind of friction, and it took an extra few seconds to register the hard length I felt in his jeans.
Before I knew it, my knees were hitting the edge of Wesley’s bed and we both fell onto the sheets in a tangled mess. Our lips never broke apart, only sought comfort from the other. Kissing Wesley Madden was like getting to have dessert for dinner. You had to go back for seconds.
One of his warm hands worked its way under my shirt and splayed his fingers across my abdomen. He pulled away just enough to look me in the eye as he asked, “Can I touch you?”
It was barely louder than a breath, but it made my ears roar. My body was no longer my own, so alive from all the fantasies in my head of what I wanted Wes to do to me. I finally understood why Mama said girls could lose their minds over boys...what girl wouldn’t go crazy over him?
I nodded frantically and pulled my shirt over my head in one swoop. For a split second I worried that my boobs were too small and disappointing, or that my simple white bra from Madden Markets wouldn’t be sexy enough, but as soon as Wesley’s eyes landed on my chest, all my insecurities vanished. His pupils were practically blown out as he gazed in wonder at my newly budded breasts.
“Is this okay?” he inquired in a reverent tone as his hand cupped the outside of my bra.
It wasn’t enough. I needed more. The heaviness of his hand on the outside would never satisfy the raw ache building in my core. Leaning up to kiss him again, I guided his hand inside my bra to feel my erect nipple. He moaned into my mouth, using his long fingers to caress and then pinch my pebbled point.
“Okay, this has to come off!” Wesley pulled the straps off my shoulders, which made me giggle. The boy didn’t have a clue how bras worked. I sat up and twisted my arm around to unhook the clasps, letting the bra slide off.
If Wesley looked enraptured at the sight of the bra, he looked damn near mesmerized at the sight of my breasts without it. I could almost see him salivating like the Big Bad Wolf. He pounced on me, kissing me so hard that I fell back onto the bed, both of his hands lacing his fingers through mine as he pinned them above my head. Shifting forward so he was straddling me, he trailed the kisses down my neck and onto my chest. Without warning, I felt his warm tongue twist around my nipple. He opened his mouth enough to suck my entire breast into his mouth before releasing it with a loud pop! and repeating the actions on the other breast.
There was so much wetness gathered between my legs that it should have stained through my jeans. Every part of me felt like it was being traced with a livewire, the electricity jolting with his touch. My hips instinctually rose up, seeking some sort of friction for the feeling building between my legs. His lips on my skin were enough to make me pant and writhe, yet I wanted more.
Wesley peppered his kisses back up to my mouth, letting go of my hands so he could lay down on his side and pull me tight against his chest. I loved the way it felt for my sore nipples to press against his muscles, though I wished he didn’t have a shirt on to block the sensation of his skin on mine. He nuzzled his nose against me, letting the kisses grow softer.
“Do you know anything about sex?” he asked me gently.
I frowned. We were nowhere near having sex in this moment, although if it would do something about the sensation growing down there, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.
“This isn’t sex, Wes,” I reminded him.
He rolled his eyes with a grin. “I know that, Lovebug, but do you know why people have sex?”
My eyebrow arched. His line of questioning didn’t make any sense. “Because they love each other?”
Wesley smiled. “When we have sex, it will always be because we love each other.”
The certainty in his voice made my heart soar. Like there was never going to be a possibility of us not being intimate, it was just a fact of life.
“But you know what an orgasm is?” he continued.
Oh.
“I know people have them when they have sex,” I admitted, blushing profusely to be discussing something so personal with Wesley. It was beyond embarrassing. “And according to all of Maggie’s magazines, women don’t have them as often as men do.”
Thatdefinitely piqued his interest. “Oh, really?” he said, his voice filled with excitement.
Too uncomfortable to reply, I merely nodded.
Wesley unleashed his full megawatt smile on me, the brilliance of it causing my stomach to bottom out and my knees to quiver. “Challenge accepted,” he murmured against my mouth before planting his lips on mine once more.
His fingers started trailing their way down my stomach, firmly, as though he wanted to memorize the way every inch of skin felt beneath his touch. When he got to the waistband of my jeans, there was no hesitation. His hand continued the descent under my panties and I felt a gush of wetness between my thighs. Wesley was going to touch me there.
Mama’s words from so long ago echoed in the back of my mind. “Your body is rare and delicate,” she had told me. “Someday people will want your body. It’s important to wait for the person who wants all of you.”
Well, Mama, mission accomplished.
I kissed Wesley harder, my tongue roving into his mouth on a breathy exhale as his long fingers parted my pussy. Spreading my knees wider to give him more access, I panted a desperate, “Yes,” against his lips, making him smile. His pupils were blown out with desire and happiness…and love. So much love.
“I want to have all your firsts,” he declared as he sank one digit inside me up to the knuckle. My pussy walls contracted, from the intrusion or the rush of emotions at his words, I had no idea. “Your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first love,” he continued. “And someday, as soon as we’re old enough, the first dance at our wedding. Our first baby. All of it. I get them all.”
He began a rhythmic circular motion with his finger that felt divine in time to his words. A future with Wesley sounded like heaven. And the fact that he already knew he wanted that kind of future with me—one that included things like marriage and babies—made my heart soar. I knew we were too young, that it was foolish to fantasize about something so far off. But Wesley had a way of making everything seem possible.
His finger pressed further inside me and a second finger joined the first, bringing my thoughts back to the heat of the moment. The wet sounds coming from my pants mortified me on a certain level, but I was too far gone with love and lust to care. Besides, Wesley didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“You can have all my firsts,” I promised him, pulling his mouth back to mine for another kiss. He increased the tempo, the palm of his hand pressing down on my clit and creating a delightful friction to ease the ache rising from my core. Pressure was building and building until suddenly, his hand slid out one last time and I felt a release so strong I cried out. It was an out of body experience; a subconscious part of me could see the ecstasy on my face as Wesley crooned, “That’s it, Celeste! I love you so much!”
I was floating and never wanted to come back down. My body would never be my own again. From here on out, it could only belong to him. Wesley, who wanted me in every way, just like Mama said.
Perhaps that fact sobered me up because I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into tears.
“Whoa!” Wesley said in alarm. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you, Celeste?!”
Traitorous tears continued to fall as I shook my head. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I couldn’t stop. “No,” I assured him. “I just wish my mama was here. I want to talk to her about you.”
Wesley gave me a tender smile and pulled me into his chest, tucking my head just under his chin. The hand that had just been inside me was now tracing a comforting path up and down my spine. “D’you think I would have your mama’s approval?”
A watery laugh slipped out at his question. “Mama would have loved you.”
He held me for a couple minutes more before softly whispering, “Then maybe she sent me to you.”