Chapter 35
Willow
Iwake up to an empty bed the next morning, which is unfortunate, considering the steamy, X-rated dream I was having about the very man who sleeps next to me.
That’s the one new thing our relationship has now that it didn’t then.
Weston did sneak into my window more times than I can count, but being able to exist like this together, it’s everything.
As I start to get ready for work, I can’t shake the desire humming through me.
I want that man like my heart needs its next beat.
The itch for him hasn’t stopped now that we’re back together; it’s grown.
I’m at the point where I can’t escape him, even in my dreams, not that I would want to.
I look at myself in the mirror and laugh.
How utterly obsessed I am with that man has changed me.
My skin is brighter, no longer dull. My cheeks are constantly flushed and plumped up.
It’s like being with him has breathed life back into me.
I head to my room, which still has my clothes.
We haven’t really gotten around to moving everything over quite yet.
Maybe after we finish our last tasks with the cabins, we will have more time for it.
I pull out an outfit with one thing in mind.
One sneaky little fantasy that I can’t get rid of.
I dream of it nightly, and I think I might be able to bring it to life.
I’ve caught on to Weston’s obsession with my pencil skirts, and I know just the one to wear.
It fits like a second skin, hugging every curve of my body.
Accentuating every single asset I’ve got working for me.
I add a red lip, and it takes my outfit to new levels of office vixen.
I take one final look in the mirror before leaving the room and heading downstairs, where, like clockwork, there is a freshly brewed pot of coffee and a note tucked under my mug.
Always with scratch paper he ripped off from junk mail, but the notes he writes are where the love lies.
He writes something he loves about me each day on the scrap paper. Reminding me of just how lovable I am.
I get in the truck and drive to work, my thoughts a tangle of filthy thoughts and to-do lists. Usually, my anxiety wins out, but not today.
The first thing I do when I step into the office is send a message to West that there is a private matter I need him urgently for. Hopefully, he gets the hint that I want him to come alone.
I sit on the desk, facing the door, and undo a few buttons on the top of my blouse until the lace trim of my bra peeks out. I swear to God, if that man walks in with his father, I will die.
The door to the office swings open with vigor; someone took the urgency I laced in the text to heart. “What’s wrong?”
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees me. His eyes peruse every inch of my body, from my voluminous curls, down the slope of my neck to my cleavage, my stocking-covered legs, and down to where my heeled feet dangle off the edge of the desk.
I cock my head to the side, a saccharine smile stretching across my lips. “Oh, nothing, I just woke up to a very empty bed, which was unfortunate considering the dreams I was having.”
Weston kicks the door closed behind him, turning to lock it before slowly stalking forward like I’m his prey. If I’m lucky, he’ll eat me alive. “Is that so?”
Bracing my feet on the desk, I inch my skirt up just enough to let my legs fall open and give Weston a peek at what’s waiting for him.
He goes slack-jawed before stepping closer between my legs, his thumb cradling my jaw while the back of his hand grips my head.
“The things I have wanted to do to you in this office, Sunshine.” He reaches his hand up and brushes his thumb against my plump bottom lip. Desire fuels my next move as I nip at his finger.
“You want to tell me those things?” I say as I cock my head to the side, adrenaline and desire are pumping through my system. I can feel my whole body flush.
“I think I would rather show you.” His hands move to my halfway buttoned-up white dress shirt. He grips each side and pulls, sending buttons flying everywhere. My breathing kicks up a notch, and so does the fire burning in my core.
He gawks at my breasts, which are sitting pushed up thanks to my white, push-up bra, and they look good, even I know that. His hands roam of their own accord, he palms one of my breasts, and I throw my head back.
With my head thrown back, it leaves my throat exposed. Weston takes advantage and leans forward, his lips finding my skin. Goosebumps erupt over my body as his stubble scratches against me. “Weston.” It comes out as a whimper, but it’s the most I can muster.
My hand laces through his hair, pulling him closer to my neck as he kisses and laps his tongue against me. A wild moan leaves my lips, bouncing off the office walls.
I need him to fill this insatiable longing.
His hands glide down to my skirt, bunching it all the way up and taking notice of his second little surprise.
“Are you wearing a garter?” he says, his eyes growing more hooded by the second.
I throw my arms over his neck, forcing him to look my way. “Yes. Do you like it?”
“You could wear a fucking paper sack, and I’d like it,” he breaks eye contact, looking down at me, “but right now, I’ve never seen you look so God damn fuckable. I want to bend your sexy little ass over the desk and fuck you, hard.”
My eyes flutter closed, imagining it. It’s my exact dream: wanting him to fuck me like that. He grabs my thighs and pulls me off the desk, steadying me, before spinning me around until my front is at the desk.
“I think I’m going to do just that.” He shimmies my skirt the rest of the way up, and I go to step out of my heels.
“Did I say to take those off?” His stubble scratches me as he brings his lips close to my ear, a shiver violently racking through my body.
“You’re gonna leave the heels on while I fuck you.
” He pushes my front down until I'm flush with the desk.
I expect to hear him fumbling with his belt, but instead, I feel his hands grip my ass, spreading it, and then his mouth is on my pussy. His hand reaches around and toys with my clit. My back arches, giving him an even better angle. “Weston, don’t stop. Please.”
His fingers replace his mouth, the sensation amazing and not enough all at the same time. “Does my girl need to be fucked senseless, now?”
He presses more pressure on my clit, and I try to answer, but it comes out as a garbled mess of moans and pleas.
He stands, and I hear the telltale sounds of a belt coming off and jeans dropping.
“You better grip that desk, baby, ‘cause I’m going to fuck you hard and fast.”
My hands shoot out to grip the curve of the other side of the desk, just as Weston slides in. My back bows, and my fingers tighten their hold. “Yes.”
This is what I wanted this morning. It’s in a different setting, but this is even better. In here it’s even hotter, with the added thrill of getting caught. It sends my pleasure to higher levels than I thought possible.
Weston groans as he sinks into me, over and over. The repetition feels like matches getting struck each time. “You look so good bent over in those heels, baby. You’ve been a little cock tease for weeks in those skirts and those damned heels.”
All this time I thought he hated my business attire and wanted me back in boots, now I know he might’ve, but only because it was turning him on.
He keeps one hand on my waist as he reaches forward and palms one of my breasts, working my nipple between his fingers. It adds too much pleasure at once, and the moan that erupts from me would be embarrassing if it didn’t immediately make Weston groan.
“God, you sound so fucking hot when you moan for my cock. I need you to reach around and play with that clit. I want you to soak my cock.”
His words are so fucking filthy that my body sets aflame. I reach between my legs and rub circles on my clit.
“Good girl, keep playing with yourself. I want you to come for me.” The hand on my waist grips harder as he thrusts deeper and deeper.
The fire in my core keeps burning brighter and hotter until I feel like I am going to explode. “Weston, I’m close.”
He keeps his rhythm steady. “Good, come for me, Sunshine. Let me hear how much you love being stuffed full of my cock.”
As if his encouragement is all I needed, the fire turns explosive and I feel my pussy clamp down on his cock, his groans echoing around the room. “You come for me, so good baby.”
This man knows my body like he’s the architect who designed it, perfectly sending me over the edge with ripples of pleasure still coursing through me as he joins me on the other side, his own moan adding to my pleasure.
It’s otherworldly to know you make a man weak in the knees; the confidence that I get from him is staggering.
We spend a second catching our breaths, Weston's body covering mine. I’m not sure how long we stay there, but eventually, there’s a knock at the door, and my eyes shoot open. Weston slowly pulls out of me, and I can feel the trickle of come dripping down.
He comes back over me to kiss the side of my neck. My breathing is still erratic and coming in heaves. Whispering in my ear, he says, “Your pussy looks so damn good when it’s dripping in my come.”
He then stands, and with far too much annoyance, he says to the knocker behind the door, “Come back later, we’re on a call.” He pulls down my shirt as if that is the biggest problem we are facing. My shirt is ruined thanks to the button-ripping moment.
I turn, and Weston starts laughing as he takes me in, with a ripped shirt and disheveled hair. “Well, uh. I think that might be hard to explain.” He looks around the office, his thick brows knitted together, before he strips his T-shirt off and hands it to me.
“I don’t think this really goes with the outfit,” I say sarcastically.
“Okay, brat. I know that. But for now, we can say you spilled coffee on your white shirt, and I, being the gentleman I am, gave you mine.”
I look him up and down now that he’s shirtless. My eyes catch on his tattoo. A tattoo for me. Like my own little brand. I shouldn’t love it this much, but I love that it leaves no doubt of who holds his heart. “Okay, but I’m still going to go home and change.”
I see the twinkle in his eye, “Can I come? I could be of assistance in getting you cleaned up and redressed.”
For once, I don’t think about all the work; I think about how much I love him and how badly I want him. “Yes, only if you promise to shower with me?” I wink, and he smiles, so devilish I can practically hear his filthy thoughts.
Turns out, today might just be my most productive day on the ranch, yet.