8. THE ONE WITH THE DEVIL ON HER SHOULDER
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE ONE WITH THE DEVIL ON HER SHOULDER
Comment: Holy shit they’re so hot!
Comment: WHO IS SHE?
I know what West’s doing. He’s waiting for me to make the first move. He wants to know it’s me making the decision to sleep with him, not the pressure of my best friend encouraging it.
And yet, all I keep thinking is, God, I wish he would just kiss me already!
If he initiates, then I won’t have to overthink it.
A small, devious smile spreads across West’s lips. I know he’s about to say something ridiculous. “Give me forty-eight hours to change your mind about me.”
Somehow, it’s more ridiculous than I thought it would be, but it does momentarily distract me from how badly I want to kiss him.
The sound of the water breaking against the seawall fills my pause. “What?” I ask finally, confused.
“I need someone to teach me the ins and outs of social media. You know the ins and outs. Come with me to Maine this weekend.” West says the last part exactly how I expect…
With an edge of sexual energy. He clenches his fists, forearms flexing.
I will myself to look away, trying not to stare at how absolutely delicious they are—it’s annoying forearms can be so attractive.
“That’s absurd." I roll my eyes.
“Maybe, but it would be fun.” He grins, biting his lip. I wonder if he’s aware he does it at all the right times, or if he’s just this involuntarily hot without trying.
You cannot sleep with a twenty-five-year-old!
“You’re so uptight and unfun!” My voice argues with the echo of Frankie’s. She’s my own personal shoulder-devil… Although, she still might be the angel despite this advice.
“I get it. You’re much more mature than I am,” West drones, sounding bored. “Got a big girl life and probably an uptight schedule.” Uptight. “You’ll probably spend all day tomorrow applying to new jobs.”
I barely hear anything he’s saying over the roar in my head. “Kiss me.” The words fly out.
“What?” He stops, jaw slightly ajar.
“Goddamn it, West. Kiss me!” I yell.
His hands cup my cheeks, and my words are almost cut short by his lips.
To my surprise, West doesn’t make me lead, unlike waiting for me to make the first move.
He spends the perfect amount of time finding a good pace before sliding his hand to the back of my neck, gripping firmly.
The second our bodies slam together, he runs his tongue along my bottom lip.
I gasp at the shiver shooting down my spine—this dude just made me gasp by simply running his tongue over my lip.
What. The. Fuck.
My lips part, and he deepens the kiss with his tongue against mine. My hands inch underneath his shirt, chasing the warmth of his skin. I trail my nails up his back lightly, testing his tolerance.
West hums in approval, so I dig them in a bit more. He hisses and grips my hair between his fingers, tugging my head back to stare directly into my soul with his sea-like blue eyes.
Oh. My. God. Is he about to prove me wrong?
I love pain mixed with pleasure—it might be the only thing Dylan and I truly had in common. I wanted it, and he liked giving it.
“Joey,” he groans. “You have to tell me what you want. I can’t—I can’t,” he stammers, closing his eyes to regain some composure.
“I want you really, really fucking bad.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows.
“But I can also walk these next couple blocks, use it to cool down, and get you safely into a car.”
I stare at his slightly parted kiss-swollen lips. His breaths come in fast and hard.
It’s just a one-night stand. Stop thinking about it so much!
“I can’t give you forty-eight hours, but if you take me back to your hotel I’ll give you somewhere between four and eight. However long you can last…” I breathe, the words less than a whisper.
He doesn’t respond to my snark for the first time all night. “Oh, thank fuck.” West crashes his lips against mine again, catching my breath in my throat.
His kiss is all-consuming. Every thought I have leaves my mind, and all there’s space left for is West. I think I might let him fuck me right here, out in the open, until a group on the other side of the street start to howl like a bunch of hungry wolves.
“Maaaan, it feels wrong to watch this for free!” a man yells over his friends.
I can’t keep a straight face; I laugh, and some weird rush of relief at my decision settles my stomach.
West pulls back, rubbing his thumb over my cheek before his hand falls and slides into mine. I follow his lead, letting him tug me across the street and down two blocks. I say nothing and neither does he… but the silence isn’t awkward.
I do eventually slip my hand from his, staying close to his side as we cross one last street.
I’m going to a stranger’s hotel room to have sex. If this doesn’t scream, I’m not uptight! then I don’t know what does.
I’ve had my fair share of one-night stands. Enough to still remember them all—and not in a good way. They’ve always been so subpar it’s easier for me to go home and do it myself than it is to fake it.
Despite my earlier comment, I’m starting to believe that won’t be the case with West… Not after that fucking kiss. I can still taste him on my lips, heat pooling low in my stomach at the memory of his hands on my thighs at the club.
I catch the time on a wall clock before entering the elevator.
2:33 a.m. I can’t remember the last time I was up at this hour for something other than a book.
I back myself into one of the corners and West follows after the doors close, boxing me in with his hands on the mirror beside my ears. “You’re not doing this because we’ve been drinking, right?”
I appreciate the sentiment, but I still roll my eyes.
“If I were too drunk, I would have climbed into the backseat of Sam’s car and made him take me and Frankie home.
” The elevator beeps, announcing our arrival to Floor 23.
“I’m here to see if you know where the clit’s at.
” I draw the last two words out, watching his pupils dilate.
I always thought that was a myth, but West proves otherwise.
He leans in against my ear, his shallow breath before he speaks sending goosebumps across my skin. West whispers, even though no one’s around to hear him, “Should I show you where the G-spot is too while I’m at it?”
My whole body flushes at his grin. He pushes himself off the elevator wall and casually walks off, pausing to make sure the door doesn’t close on me.
I try not to get too excited as I exit the elevator, feeling a lot like what I expect a fawn does when they walk for the first time.
Every man, and even a few women, surprisingly, have told me they know where both those parts are and then failed miserably when it came to showtime.
That might be the case with West, but his confidence is sexy, nonetheless.
West’s room is only a few doors down from the elevator. He pulls the room card out of his clip wallet, unlocks the door, and steps to the side, letting me in first.
I hear the door click behind me as I look around. It’s not huge or fancy. A king-size bed sits in the middle with nightstands and lamps on each side. I pass a small bathroom with a large stand-up shower, my attention stolen by the view.
The floor-to-ceiling windows face the water, only a few other buildings tall enough to obstruct the view. I fucking love this city. I turned down over fifteen job offers out of college because they weren’t local.
A bar cart with an open bottle of tequila sits against the window. Without asking for permission and before I turn around to face West, I pour myself a healthy shot and down it without a chaser.
I turn around to find West sitting on the edge of the perfectly made bed, feet planted on the floor. He’s leaning casually, like he’s in his element, and I’m the only one who’s in unfamiliar territory.
Because of course he’s in his element. This probably isn’t even his first one-night stand of the week…
His eyes drag from where my Docs meet the vinyl plank flooring, all the way to the top of my head.
“I’m the luckiest man in Boston. In Massachusetts.
Scratch that. In the whole fucking universe.
” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound like any of the others I’ve heard from him tonight.
This one is full of lust—drunk off the sight of me.
I’m curious to see how he reacts to me with less clothing on.
Making up my mind had been the hardest part, but now that I’ve committed, there’s no stopping me. I turn into the vixen people know Hex to be.
I reach down to the edge of my long T-shirt, crossing my arms and pulling it over my head. I shake my hair out, tossing the shirt to the side. All that’s left is my jewelry, a matching black lace bra and cheeky panties, fishnets, a pair of socks, and my Docs.
West’s eyes roll back into his head, and he brings his index finger to his mouth, biting down around the knuckle. He doesn’t say anything, but I hear the low grumble of approval from deep in his chest.
I bring my leg up to the ottoman beside me, angling myself perfectly so West can get a full view of my ass while I lean down and unlace my boots. I take my time, kicking them off one by one as I close the distance between us.
West’s hands grip the duvet in what I know is an attempt to keep his hands to himself. Even when I climb onto the edge of the bed, straddling his lap, his hands stay put. I reach down and grab one, placing it at the crease of my hip. His grip tightens, pulling me flush against his lap.
He was waiting for permission to touch me, like the good boy I called him earlier. My heart thuds in my chest, and I let out a soft breath of approval as his other hand grips against my opposite hip and he forces me to rock against his erection.
Once.
Twice.
“Fuck,” I moan softly, my legs shaking as I rub against him a third time. Who knew dry humping could wind me up this much?
West lets me find a pace of my own, skimming his hand up my curves. Goosebumps skitter across my skin, and West follows their trail.
My nipples are so hard against the material of my bra it almost hurts when he squeezes gently. My body is reeling, every neuron on fire, and I’m chasing a high I won’t find if I don’t let West know what I need. I grab his wrist and slide his hand up my chest until it’s resting around my neck.
The hunger in his eyes is palpable, and I swear I hear him swallow back the drool that pools in his mouth.
“Have you ever safely choked someone?” My voice sounds like a purr even to my own ears.
West nods, but I shake my head. “Words. Tell me.”
“Yes,” is all he can manage.
I hum, sinking back into his lap again with a shaky moan. “Good.” I inhale a sharp breath as West applies the tiniest bit of pressure with his thumb and index finger. “Don’t be afraid to get a little rough.”