30. Wes #2
Heat floods my face at the memory. “I was such an asshole that night.”
“You were,” she agrees. “But you were crashing out and knew you needed something. Even though you got me very wrong, you also knew you could say it to me. You trusted that I could handle your anger and stress and frustration. Whether you realized it or not, what you really wanted was for me to take it and control it for you.”
I think back to the raging emotions of that night. At the time, I thought that what I wanted was for her to yell at me, to get in my face, to completely eviscerate me. But she’s right. I wanted her to get me out of my own head. I wanted her to take control so I didn’t have to deal with it anymore.
“What did you end up doing that night?” she asks.
I huff out a breath. “I don’t think I should tell you.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
If she really wants to know, I’ll tell her. “I went home, took a long shower, and got myself off thinking about fucking your mouth.”
Elizabeth laughs so abruptly she starts coughing.
“Told you.”
She shakes her head. “No, I…it’s good to know.”
“Is it?” I ask, curious what she means by that. Considering she just told me she doesn’t enjoy sex at all unless she’s in control, I can’t imagine she’d be into someone fucking her in any way.
She shifts so her body is angled toward mine. “I’ve already given you more leeway than I usually give partners.”
“Because I very literally begged to eat you out?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks flush, but she shakes her head. “Before that. In D.C. I let you get away with so much—”
“What do you mean ‘so much’?” I ask, shocked. “You literally bit my nipple when you thought I enjoyed something too much.”
She laughs lightly. “Yeah, but I usually control everything a partner does. And you—at the end, when you—”
“You let me fuck you a little.” Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have thought of it like that.
To me, it was two people having sex. But knowing what I do now about her usual preferences, I see it.
I acted of my own accord, did something she didn’t explicitly ask for or approve of while we were together.
To her, that was akin to giving up control.
She nods. “And I liked it. A lot.”
I smile as a deep pleasure blooms in my chest at those words—at knowing that I pleased her. “And you liked when I went down on you.”
She nods. “I shouldn’t have let you do it. But you were very convincing.”
“Plus I’m fine as hell and completely irresistible.”
Elizabeth grins. “There is that.” It’s as satisfying as a podium finish. “But it’s not the only reason. I like you, Wes. A lot.”
My heart stutters in my chest.
Because Elizabeth Jacobs likes me.
“I don’t usually think about romance or feelings,” Elizabeth says.
“I haven’t been interested in dating or relationships since figuring out my desires and how to harness them.
I thought that was enough for me. But then you came along and surprised me at nearly every turn.
I sized you up as a cocky, selfish asshole that first day at Martine, but I was so, so wrong.
You’re loyal and hard-working. Thoughtful and big-hearted and open-minded.
And though you have annoyed me at times and have definitely crossed some lines, you’ve also listened to me.
You’ve been willing to admit when you’re wrong.
You’ve been there for me, even when I did my best to push you away.
You’re so impressive, Wes. And admirable.
And so much more than I think even you know. ”
She pauses, and it turns out I’m speechless. Because Elizabeth Jacobs admires me.
“In addition to all of that,” she says, because apparently she’s not done.
I wonder if this is the part where she roasts me.
“You’ve not only taken my sexual needs in stride, but seamlessly translated the dynamic to other aspects of life.
That’s been new for me, and I appreciate it more than I can say.
But, I can tell that being submissive isn’t what you naturally prefer.
And if we’re—” she cuts herself off suddenly and I’m stunned to see self-consciousness in her eyes.
“If we’re what?” I ask, desperate for her to finish that thought.
She takes a big drink of wine, followed by a deep breath. “If we’re going to have a relationship, then I have to consider that you want other things.”
Holy. Shit.
Holy shit.
Elizabeth Jacbos wants a relationship. With me. And she’s open to trying new things. With me.
I must look as shocked as I feel, because Elizabeth says, “But if that’s totally off-base, then—”
“No,” I say quickly. “I am extremely into you. I just never thought that we…I mean, you’ve said multiple times that we can’t.”
Elizabeth nods. “Yeah. It’s not a great look for me to be fucking a client. But this isn’t just sex, Wes. Not for me. I don’t think it ever was. So if we were to speak with our respective HR departments to keep things above-board, then…”
“Jacobs,” I say slowly. ”Are we defining the relationship right now?”
She looks taken aback for a full second before she blinks it away. “Yes.”
“Fantastic. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. But I want you to know that I don’t expect you to change anything. I like everything about you, exactly as you are.”
The smile Elizabeth gives me is so beautiful I want to hire sometime to paint it and hang it in a museum so it can be preserved and admired for all time.
“As much as I appreciate that, I also think that I need to be open to new things. We’re both extremely aware that sexuality is a spectrum, and considering I feel comfortable with you, wildly attracted to you, and intrigued by you, I think that’s probably worth exploring. ”
Fireworks go off in my brain as I grasp how much she’s thought about this—how serious she is. So of course what I say is, “You’re wildly attracted to me?”
Elizabeth laughs, the sound music to my ears. “That can’t be a surprise.”
“A little bit,” I say. “You play things very close to the vest, Jacobs. When did you decide all of this?”
“It’s been in the works for a while. A long while, if I’m being honest. But it came into very sharp focus today.”
“Today?”
“You crashed,” she says slowly. “You crashed, and the only thing I could focus on was whether you were okay.”
I lean over and bump my arm against hers. “I’m okay.”
“I know,” she says, smiling softly. “But I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t.”
My heart stutters in my chest at the idea that this woman—this strong, capable, incredible woman who always has a plan—wouldn’t know what to do if something happened to me on the track.
“You would’ve managed the crisis,” I say. “And then you would’ve marched into the hospital and told me in no uncertain terms that I had no choice but to recover.”
Elizabeth’s eyes meet mine, and the smile she gives me is so radiant it makes my breath catch. “Maybe so, Grant.”
“Please tell me I can kiss you.” She nods, and the excitement that bursts through me makes me feel like a teenager.
I shift so I’m fully facing her and lift my hands to cup her face.
Her skin is impossibly soft as I brush my thumbs over it.
I lean in, giving myself the time to savor her perfect autumn scent before closing the distance between us.
The kiss is achingly sweet as we linger in those first tentative moments. But then she, of course, presses more firmly against me, moving her lips against mine, nudging me to give her more.
And God, do I.
I gently nip at her bottom lip before running my tongue along the seam of her mouth.
When she opens for me, I don’t hesitate.
We kiss and we kiss and we kiss, and then she shifts so that she’s in my lap, straddling me.
I groan into her mouth and she captures my bottom lip in between her teeth.
A sharp burst of gorgeous pain shoots through me and I dig my fingers into her hips, making her gasp.
“We should stop for tonight,” I say. If we continue, there’s no way I’ll keep my promise about just sleeping. “We should head upstairs. Go to bed.”
Elizabeth pulls back and looks at me, her gaze heated but thoughtful. “Okay, Wes. Let’s go to bed.”
Once we’re upstairs, she whistles low at the king-size mattress.
I rummage through drawers and find an old Orion T-shirt for her to sleep in, which she happily accepts before heading into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
When she emerges in just my old shirt, her long hair down and her face scrubbed bare, my breath catches. She’s so fucking perfect.
“Should I turn off the light?” she asks, and I nearly say no so that I can continue looking at her.
But then I realize that that would be insane, so I nod.
In the dark, the two of us nestle into bed, taking our time to get comfortable.
I want her to feel safe with me, even when—especially when—she’s asleep.
I’m about to close my eyes when I suddenly remember something. “Jacobs?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did Stas call you?”
“Oh, that,” she says. “He wanted to make sure I cared about you.”
“What?” I ask, incredulous.
“It’s true. But he also wanted me to know that Elio isn’t to be underestimated.”
I think of the time Elio walked into a meeting with a sponsor who was ready to cancel their multi-million dollar contract, then walked back out with a smile on his face. “He’s not wrong about that.”
“I know,” she says, her voice quieter now. I feel her shuffle closer to me, her hand brushing my knee before she turns on her side to be the little spoon. I lightly place my arm around her and then lean forward to press a kiss to the back of her neck. “Good night, Elizabeth.”
“Good night, Wes.”
I never would have thought I’d end this horrible day with a smile on my face.
But that’s exactly what I’m doing when I close my eyes and drift away.