Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
BLUE
I was ridiculously excited that it was finally Friday, but I was also a little nervous.
When West and I were apart, it felt like we barely knew each other. But when we were in the same room, it was like we had known each other forever. I was ready for us to be friends again.
I hadn’t gone back to the lake house all week. I didn’t want to be there without him. But I’d already told my dad that’s where I’d be this weekend, mostly because I couldn’t picture myself staying away from West any longer now that we had amended our rules a little.
It was still early, and the bar wasn’t too busy yet. I kept glancing at my phone every few minutes, waiting for West’s text. He’d said he’d message me when he was on his way, but I hadn’t heard anything yet.
Finally, I reached under the counter and typed out a quick text.
Blue
What’s your ETA?
I pressed send and immediately regretted it. Too short. Too formal. I sounded like a needy robot. I sighed and slid my phone back under the counter just as strong hands gripped my hips and his presence stole the air around me.
“Did you just text me?” he whispered into my ear from behind.
A woman sitting at the bar looked up at us, wide-eyed like she’d just witnessed some steamy soap opera scene. My infamous husband had made a show of saying hi.
“You’re here early,” I said, my voice breathless.
“I left work early.”
My pulse spiked. I kept trying to tell myself it was all for show, just him playing the part, keeping up appearances with the public display of affection. But it felt real.
None of it was necessary. He didn’t have to leave early. He didn’t have to slide in behind me and touch me like I belonged to him. He didn’t have to breathe against my neck like he missed me.
And then I turned in his arms and saw him.
Jeans. A plain white T-shirt.
He looked normal. Like he was born and raised in Harmony Haven and adhered to the dress code. And shit, he was so unfairly hot.
Tuffy passed by, mumbling a “Hi, Mr. Brooks” as she went. West turned slightly, probably to respond, but I gasped before he could.
He froze. His expression was a mix of confusion and concern until he realized I was staring at him. That stupid white T-shirt was clinging to his chest like it had been made for him.
My mouth watered. And not just because of how good he looked, but because I knew he did this on purpose. For me.
The suit made him feel powerful, in control. But this was him letting his guard down. This was him trusting me.
West turned his attention to a woman at the bar and took her order like he’d been bartending for years. There were a couple more waiting, but I couldn’t move.
Tuffy slid up beside him again. “It’s not very busy right now, Mr. Brooks. You might wanna snap your wife out of it before the Friday rush begins.”
He didn’t even glance at her, just slid two drinks across the bar and smiled at the customer. Then Tuffy nudged me on her way past.
I wasn’t even completely sure West had heard her, but as soon as he knew everyone was taken care of, he grabbed my hand and led me down the hall.
Once we were in the office, he shut the door behind us and then leaned against it.
“I’m gonna be honest,” he said, tilting his head as he studied me. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or happy.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I mean, it’s just a pair of pants.”
“No, it’s not.” I shook my head, licking my lips. “You knew damn well when you put those on I was gonna practically come just looking at you.”
He smirked like the cocky, confident devil he was, but there was a softness behind it.
“As good as you look in a suit, you look even better like this,” I added. “Relaxed and slightly undone.”
He took a step forward and lowered his voice as he licked his lips. “I worked overnight. Everything’s done. I told everyone at the office that if they needed me, no they didn’t.”
That was a big deal as well. Huge even.
“But also,” he continued, “I have a favor this weekend. Help with something that I think only you could help me with.”
I nodded slowly. I didn’t even need to know what it was. If he asked, I’d do it.
“Hey, you okay?” He reached for me gently.
I nodded again. It was all I could manage. It was the only English I could remember.
Without thinking, I slid my hand beneath his T-shirt and hooked my finger into the waistband of his jeans. West grabbed my chin and tilted my face to his.
His eyes were darker than usual. Focused. And suddenly, I was looking at a man I hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t the West who wore cufflinks and bought bars, but he wasn’t the vulnerable one from our quiet moments either. He was both.
I rubbed my thighs together, the pulse between them making it hard to stand still.
Of course West noticed and his lips curled slightly. “Is my girl feeling needy?”
I nodded again. One more word and I was going to melt into the floor.
“Damn,” he murmured. “Who knew a pair of jeans would do that to you?”
“It’s not the jeans,” I whispered against his lips. “It’s you.”
“What about me?” His hand moved between us. He popped the button on my jeans and slid the zipper down slowly.
“I’ve spent all week needing you, West.”
“I’m here now,” he growled.
Then his mouth was on mine, but only for a second before he spun me around and slid his hand into my jeans. He was pressing his chest against my back and his fingers started stroking my clit. His free hand held me upright as my knees started to give.
I moaned, the sound swallowed by the music pouring through the walls. Thank God it had started. I reached back, gripping his neck, guiding his mouth to the place I needed it most.
He didn’t hesitate. His tongue dragged across my pulse point, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck. His fingers slid lower, parting me, hooking inside until I gasped.
He held me there, open and desperate.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered against my ear.
I nodded, panting.
“I missed you all week. You were all I could think about. Those short little texts felt like transactions. It was driving me fucking crazy.”
“It’s easier,” I exhaled, “to remember this is a business deal when we’re not in the same room.”
His hand pressed harder, almost punishing me for even saying those words. Even if we both knew they were true.
I rolled my hips against his palm, chasing the edge, while his fingers curled, stroked, and circled.
“Come for me,” he whispered, his voice low and gritty. “You’re already there, so quick and ready. Let me feel it.”
My body clenched, tightening around his fingers as heat burst low in my stomach. I came with a muffled cry, my head falling back against his shoulder. He held me steady, waiting until my legs stopped shaking before slowly sliding his hand out of my jeans.
Then, without shame or hesitation, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
He smirked, the hunger still in his eyes. “Just your husband.”