Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
WEST
Blue and I spent the entire night stealing glances, brushing hands, letting our fingers linger too long, and smiling like we were in on some private joke.
But I guess we were.
Everyone else probably thought we were just another newlywed couple working side by side. But she and I both knew that the heat between us was getting hotter by the second, and the only thing keeping it from burning out of control was that thin thread of self-control neither of us wanted to cut.
At one point, she sent me to the storage room to grab another bottle of Crown. I expected to come back out in thirty seconds. Instead, the door shut behind me and she was there, sliding into my arms and pressing her mouth to mine like she couldn’t stand another second without the taste of me.
I kept waiting for the guilt to hit. Even a sting or ache in my chest. But it didn’t come. All I felt was the weight of how badly I wanted her, and the quiet, dangerous realization that I had never wanted someone like this before.
By the end of the night, Tuffy waved us off, saying she’d have someone else help her close and we didn’t need to be told twice. I grabbed my keys from the office, and we walked hand-in-hand toward my truck. Blue slowed when she didn’t see Marshal nearby.
“I sent him home,” I told her. “It’s just you and me this weekend.”
She nodded, then glanced at the truck suspiciously. “Did you just buy this today? Ya know, for the plot?”
I laughed. “No. I’ve had it. It’s a newer version of the same model my dad used to drive.”
I helped her in as she climbed up using the step-side, and once I was behind the wheel, her earlier comment stuck with me.
“You really think I’d buy a truck to match my outfit?”
“You seem like the type,” she smirked.
“A car to match my outfit,” I repeated with a shake of my head, still laughing as I cranked the ignition and headed toward the lake house.
Unlike my dad’s old truck, this one had a center console, so I reached over it, took her hand, and pulled it into my lap. She didn’t let go.
When we got to the house, she punched in the code to the front door, and as soon as it clicked closed, I had her in my arms. Our mouths were crashing together as I guided us down the hallway to my bedroom.
I didn’t have to say anything. We had eaten at the bar and we both knew exactly what we were doing the moment we were alone.
Her tank top came off first. My T-shirt followed. Then her jeans. Then mine.
I didn’t know if we’d go further than we had the weekend before. I didn’t think about it. I acted on instinct, lifting her bare body against mine and carrying her into the bathroom. She reached back to turn on the shower, and I stepped in with her, our thoughts perfectly in sync.
She gasped like she was expecting that first blast of water to be cold, but when I had the house redone, I made sure the hot water was instant. The moan she let out when it hit her skin nearly dropped me to my knees.
My cock had been hard since the moment she came around my fingers in the office, and there was no time wasted once she slid down my body to her knees. She stroked me with both hands, using the water as a slick, warm lubricant before taking me into her mouth.
Her mouth was better than I remembered. The way she worked me, the low, hungry sounds she made like she was getting as much out of it as I was.
I worked shampoo into my hands, then into her hair, massaging her scalp until I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled her up, needing her in a different way.
Not this time. Not like last week.
I tilted her head back to rinse her hair as she ran soapy hands over my chest. We moved fast, like we both knew waiting too long would break the spell and let reality sink its claws back in.
We didn’t bother with towels. We were already kissing as we stumbled back into the bedroom, the air drying our skin as fast as we could touch it.
“Please tell me you need this as bad as I do,” she moaned. “Please tell me you won’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping.” My voice was low, rough. “Get on the bed and open your legs for me.”
She did, without hesitation.
I reached into the nightstand, trying not to think about the fact that my grandparents kept it stocked with condoms, and ripped one open.
When I stepped to the edge of the bed, she rolled to her knees, ass in the air, an unspoken plea for something raw and hard.
One day, maybe I’d take her like that. But not tonight.
I slid my fingers down the curve of her ass, finding her wet and ready, then gently pushed her onto her back.
She looked at me like she was about to ask why, and only then did I realize why she got in that position.
It was what I told her I did, never looking into the eyes of the woman I was fucking.
But she wasn’t just any woman.
I climbed over her, pressing my mouth to hers. “Not with you,” I whispered. “I want to see your face. I want to watch you come.”
Her heartbeat thrummed against my chest as I lined myself up and pushed in slowly.
It was fireworks and Christmas morning all wrapped into one. Tight and perfect, like she’d been made for me.
Once I was all the way inside, I stilled, watching her face.
“Please, West,” she breathed.
I started to move, slow and deep, the most basic rhythm in the world. But nothing about us was basic. Her eyes locked on mine like she was trying to read every thought in my head. I leaned down, kissing her softly, and she slid her fingers into my hair, holding me there.
But need crept in fast. I sped up, and the tight pull of her body around me told me she was close.
“You’re gonna have to let go, baby,” I told her, my voice strained. “Because I’m not gonna last much longer.”
Her nails dug into my back, raking down hard. I grunted, losing control, and the moment I started to come, I felt her clench around me, taking me with her. It was almost too much pleasure and I felt like I may blackout.
When I could move again, I rolled to my side, slid off the condom, and tossed it to the floor, too spent to care where it landed.
All I could do was look at her.
I wanted to memorize the way she looked when she came. Burn it into my brain. Now I had two reasons never to look someone in the eyes when I fucked them.
The first was guilt, for finding pleasure I didn’t deserve.
The second was her. I never wanted to look into anyone else’s eyes again.
I was fucked.