Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WESLEY
I shouldn’t be touching her like this.
I know that.
I’ve known it since the very first night in the kitchen.
But the second she presses her body to mine, something inside me unspools—slow, vicious, and inevitable.
I don’t fucking dance.
I don’t do soft.
I don’t do need.
Except with her.
She is the center of my universe. It’s been simmering for weeks—in every glance, every touch, every silent moment where I wanted nothing more than to pin her against a wall and kiss her until she forgot her own name.
We’ve been circling each other, teasing and testing, and now it’s a fucking blaze—completely out of control.
I knew when I agreed that this would be a problem. Something that would sink its teeth into me and refuse to let go.
Now I’m done pretending not to feel it.
Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt as she looks up at me. Her breath brushes my throat, and I know there’s no going back. If I touch her again, I won’t be able to stop.
Her big green eyes are wide and full of want, dissolving the last remaining grains of sanity I had left.
She presses her body farther into mine in a way that makes it impossible to think straight. Every sway of her hips lines us up perfectly. Every breathy laugh drags me further under.
And I hate how much I crave it.
How much I crave her.
I spin her, just to make her laugh again—because I need to hear it, because it’s the only thing that doesn’t make me want to tear something apart. When she lands against me, I lean in before I can talk myself out of it.
Her mouth grazes mine—barely a breath.
A whisper of what I want.
A threat of what I could do.
“Wesley…” she murmurs, lips brushing my jaw. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Torturing me.
My grip on her waist tightens and she looks up at me, her eyes shining, almost daring me to lose control.
“You’re gonna get us caught,” I rasp, though I’m the one who’s two seconds from risking it all right here on the dance floor.
My mouth betrays me, finding her throat. Her pulse jumps beneath my teeth and she lets out the smallest sound, pressing closer.
“Then stop me,” she breathes.
Fuck me.
The heat between us spikes, undeniable. Her thigh presses into mine and my control slips another inch. Every eye in the bar could be on us right now and I still wouldn’t stop.
I drag my mouth to her ear, voice low and rough. “If I don’t get you alone right now, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.”
The music swells, bodies grinding all around us, but all I can see—all I can feel—is her. I can’t take it anymore.
Her sharp inhale is all the answer I need.
“Come with me.”
Her fingers lace through mine, and I drag her through the crowded bar.
Past our friends.
Past the door we should be heading toward.
I lead her down the narrow hallway at the back of the building. My pulse is hammering, adrenaline and desire tangling until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
The second the bathroom door deadbolt clicks into place, the bass and voices from the bar dull into a muffled thrum.
It’s just us. Her and me and this thing between us that won’t stop pulling tighter.
The lighting is dim, a red overhead bulb casting everything in shadows and heat.
I press her back against the cool tile wall, my palms caging her in. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move. Doesn’t push me away. She wants this. Maybe just as much as I do.
My hands slide to her cheeks, thumbs brushing her jaw as I kiss her—hard and ravenous. Weeks of restraint unravel all at once.
She tastes like lime and salt and something sweeter I can’t name, but it’s fucking addicting.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her up onto the sink. She wraps her legs around me, grinding against the ache straining against my jeans, and I swear I forget how to breathe, dropping my forehead to hers.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” I rasp against her lips.
She looks down between us, cheeks flushed, and rolls her hips once—slow, intentional, and fucking devastating.
“Fuck,” I choke out, closing my eyes, trying to gain some semblance of control.
I trail my mouth along her jaw, down her neck, tasting the edge of temptation and the wrongness of wanting her this much. My hands slide beneath her shirt, mapping every breath, every shiver, every soft line of her.
When I reach her waistband, I pause for a single breath, giving her a chance to tell me to stop. To say she doesn’t want this.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she pulls my mouth back to hers, greedy, reckless, and desperate as her teeth catch my bottom lip.
When I murmur her name in gravely devotion, she lets out the softest sound, and I nearly drop to my knees right there to make her do it again.
Her breath catches as I tug open the button of her jeans. But I don’t stop. I let my hand slip lower, teasing her over her panties—just enough to make her gasp. Just enough to show her that I’ve been thinking about doing this for longer than I should have.
Her head falls to my shoulder as she grips the back of my neck. My fingers slide beneath the fabric and she arches into my touch, her arousal coating my hand.
“Is this all for me?” I murmur, my voice low and rough as I push farther, circling her clit with my thumb.
She shudders, clinging to me, chasing more with every desperate roll of her hips. Her fingers tangle in my hair as she moans against my shoulder, biting down to smother the sound, her breath shaky and hot against me.
My cock is throbbing, begging for release. But I can feel her getting close, so I force myself to focus on her.
She’s unraveling in my hands and I’ve never wanted anything more. It’s like I was put on this planet with the sole purpose of bringing her pleasure.
“Wesley—” My name breaks against her lips when I kiss below her ear. Her moans threaten to give us away. I don’t care if the whole bar hears. I almost want them to. So they know she’s mine—even if it’s only for now.
I slow my hand right before she tumbles over the edge. Her whimper is pure devastation. “Why are you—”
My lips brush hers. “I want you to watch.”
She blinks at me, dazed and flushed. I ease her down from the sink, keeping my hand on her waist, guiding her until her feet hit the tile.
Before she can protest, I spin her gently, pressing her into the cool porcelain, my chest flush against her back.
One hand grips her hip hard enough to bruise while the other slides lower, slipping back between her thighs.
The red light bathes her reflection—she’s flushed, pupils blown wide, lips kissed raw. Her breath catches when her eyes meet mine.
“Look at you,” I murmur against her ear, my voice rough as my fingers sink into her again. “Look how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me.”
She presses her hips back into me and I let out a sound I didn’t know I could make. My hand tightens on her waist, the final thread of my restraint barely holding together.
“Fuck, Sadie,” I groan. “You keep doing that, and I won’t hold back anymore. I’ll take you right here—just like this.”
Her breath catches but she does it again, grinding against me.
“That what you want?” I grit out, teeth scraping against her neck. “You want me to fuck you like this? Bent over the bathroom sink where anyone could walk in?”
I thrust my fingers harder, faster, my grip on her hip firm enough to keep her pinned exactly where I want her.
“Yes,” she breathes in a broken cry I feel all the way down my spine. She grinds against my hand and I’m so hard, my vision almost blacks out.
“Fuck—you’re so tight,” I rasp, forehead dropping to her shoulder. “You’re going to ruin me.”
She arches into me, shuddering and whimpering as she clutches the sink for balance. Her body tightens around me, her cries swallowed by my palm as I cover her mouth. She falls apart in my arms, breaths tattered, completely wrecked.
I hold her through it, grounding her with a kiss on her temple, her jaw, then the back of her neck. But it’s not enough for me. I grab her face, turning her head so I can press my lips to hers—slow and tender, it feels almost like a confession.
But it’s not enough for her, either.
She presses her hips into me again, greedily seeking more, and a ragged sound tears out of me.
“You’re killing me.”
She turns in my arms, eyes dazed and so fucking beautiful. Then she slides her hand down my torso, palming me through my jeans.
A curse tears from my throat, and now I’m the one gripping onto the sink.
“Sadie—” I rasp, but she doesn’t stop, fingers fumbling with my belt.
For one reckless heartbeat, I almost give in and let go completely. My chest heaves and I’m throbbing to the point where it’s borderline unbearable.
But then I remember where we are, what this is, and I grab her wrist, forcing her to stop—because if I don’t, I would cross every boundary with her that I can’t take back.
“Don’t.” It comes out harsher than I intended.
I trace soft circles into her skin, hoping it somehow shows her how difficult it is for me to stop her right now.
“I want to,” she whispers.
Goddammit. I want her to, too.
I want it more than I want air. I’ve been fantasizing about her on her knees for me. All the ways I could have her.
But I can’t bring myself to do it.
Not like this.
I bring her knuckles to my lips, kissing them softly. “I’m good.”
It’s a lie, and she knows it. Her eyes drop to the obvious bulge that is increasingly impossible to ignore.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” she asks softly. “Let me take care of you.”
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “It’s okay.” It’s not.
She studies me, eyes narrowing. “This is supposed to be for both of us.”
“I know,” I murmur, pressing her hand over my heart, hoping she can feel the storm raging beneath the surface.
“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” Her eyes lift to mine, soft and pleading. “I want to make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.”
I lean in, dragging my mouth gently over hers. “Not like this.”