Chapter 11 Callie #4
The stairs led to a small landing that held a bathroom to the left and a small open space to the right.
“Bingo.”
I walked toward the desk and began thumbing through envelopes and mail.
There was a laptop sitting there, and while I knew eventually, I might have to peek at it, I wasn’t ready to yet. There was no telling how much time I had before he came home, and I wanted to snoop first.
The drawers revealed files, but nothing outside of his legal garage business.
He’d filed an LLC, and there were contracts and other legal documentation from the show he’d worked with.
I was slightly curious if he was doing another season with them, and if so, when they’d start shooting.
I recalled all the times I’d been brave enough to watch the show.
There was never a single time I’d noticed anything familiar in the background or landscape when they’d roll the restored bikes out.
He was always in some high-end garage, surrounded by asphalt. Which likely meant he didn’t do any of the filming here. That made sense. Why would he invite the world into his super-secret hideout?
“Where would I keep secret stuff about my club?” I asked aloud, setting my hands on my hips as I looked around his makeshift office. I’d found nothing, and my eyes kept trailing down the hall to the open doorway where I knew his bedroom had to be.
Snooping in the open spaces of his home was one thing, but his bedroom…
my stomach tilted at the notion of crossing that line.
I knew Wes longer and more intimately than probably any other human on this planet, but a lot could change in seven years.
What if he did have a girlfriend, and there was evidence of her living here, in there?
What if seeing it destroyed me all over again?
What if Wes had changed and was now into illegal stuff?
My heart rammed against my chest as I slowly made my way down the hall. I was just about to push open the door when I heard one slam from downstairs.
My eyes went huge as I searched for a place to hide. There were no linen closets, just the bathroom, but it was too close to the edge of the staircase to run into. Which left his bedroom.
Hearing his boots hit the stairs, I quickly darted inside his room and pushed down the way my nose flared at his familiar scent.
I tucked myself into the back part of his walk-in closet where a few garment bags hung.
The carpet under my feet felt stiff and new, and the smell of leather invaded my nose as I carefully slid further behind his clothing.
He pushed through his bedroom door a few seconds later, and from the sounds of it, he had started the shower in his attached bathroom.
I held my breath as I heard his movements bring him closer to my hiding spot.
The closet light came on, illuminating the rows of shelves on the opposite side where he had his jeans and boxers folded, along with a few T-shirts.
Below that were three different levels of shoes.
He had nice shiny ones that he’d have to wear with a suit or tux, he had running shoes, and of course several pair of motorcycle boots.
He had ties, watches, and hats all arranged as if someone had set all this up for him.
Knowing Wes, and how he used to keep his things, this wasn’t him. Someone had done this, and the sinking feeling in my chest only intensified as I let that realization roll through me. Wes was seeing someone.
He’d shed his shirt, and with his back turned to me I could see the ink he’d gotten since our breakup.
Before, he had tattoos along his arms, a few on his wrists and across his chest, but his back was always bare.
Now, under the strong muscles and broad shoulders were black lines that made up a skull with roses blooming from its eye sockets, marking the insignia for the MC he was now leading.
There was a deep part of me that wanted to trace the dark lines with my fingers and feel his soft skin again. My mind went back to what he’d said during our exchange outside of the cabin, and I tried to erect a wall of indifference.
Wes was staring at his phone, his back still to me, and my eyes drifted lower, to where the band of his boxers peeked out from the waistline of his jeans.
I’d always loved the way his muscled back looked, but it was even more mouthwatering now.
Strong, defined muscles all tapered into a narrow waist, and his ass was just as delicious as it always was.
“Enjoying the view?”
His deep voice startled me so much, my head snapped up, right as I stepped to the side. Unfortunately for my ankle, there was a kettlebell to the left, and I ended up falling. Through several muttered curses, I was finally up and crawling out from behind the hanging items in his closet.
“How did you know I was here?”
Wes stood over me with his arms crossed, a soft smirk in place as he watched me.
“I have cameras, River. So I watched as you made your way through my house, snooped through all my shit, and then contemplated whether you should go inside my room.”
Oh shit.
There was no way to talk my way out of this now, so I stood up and tugged my shirt down, so it was straightened out.
“So…you knew I was here, what are you going to do about it?”
I knew he’d never hurt me, but he might get pissed enough to kick me out of town or something.
Wes stepped closer, erasing the space between us.
“I think you’re going to tell me what you’re looking for, and for your sake, I hope you brought your letter.”
Under these lights, his eyes almost glowed against his sun-kissed face and dark hair—it wasn’t fair how shamelessly attractive he was. I closed my eyes and looked to the side, just to help with the heat growing between my legs.
“I don’t have the letter,” I started, but cleared my throat to gain steam. He was standing too damn close for my brain to function properly. “However, as far as why I was here, I wanted to—”
My eyes found his again, and my explanation faltered. If I told him why I was here, he’d shut me out…ensure I was as far away from his house and club as possible. He couldn’t know that I was after secrets, or what might be on this property.
My face flushed as I mentally reached for another thought that had been bugging me, hanging out in the peripheral of my mind.
“Wanted to what?” Wes breathed softly while his hand rested on the copper button of his jeans.
With one tiny flick they opened, and I watched as he slid the denim down his legs, leaving him standing in just a pair of snug boxer briefs.
He’d always worn this type of underwear when we were dating, but his thighs were never this muscular, and his abs were never this pronounced.
The dusting of dark hair leading from his navel down below the line of his briefs had my mouth parting.
This was new, as well.
Wes dipped his head, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers before repeating himself. “Wanted to what?”
Recovering, I slammed my eyes shut and trailed after him as he headed toward the bathroom. “I wanted to know if you were dating someone.”
I did want to know, but I also would rather die than hear him talk about dating someone.
He suddenly turned in place, his gaze searching mine as if he knew I was lying, but there was something else there too. Something primal and full of hurt and need.
“I mean, I know I don’t have a right to ask but I—”
“You don’t have a right.” He cut me off, his voice stern and laced with venom.
I glared, tilting my head so he’d have an unobstructed view of my entire face.
“I mean, I do have some right, considering.”
That firm jaw clenched as he stared down at me with what felt like a twinge of madness.
“You think because I used to know you almost a decade ago, you have a right to break into my home and snoop around my shit, just to see if I’m dating someone?”
Heat engulfed my face as he continued to stare, and his statement washed over us.
It wasn’t a question, we both knew the answer.
I didn’t have any right to be here or to care about him anymore.
I had to remember that I wasn’t really here just to see if he was dating; I was here to gather intel.
The reassurance had me straightening my spine under his scrutiny.
“I’ll always have that right, Wes.”
His incredulous laugh snuck under my skin, swelling painfully inside my chest.
“You are un-fucking-believable, Callie.” With a shake of his head, he turned once more and continued to the bathroom where his hot water had likely turned cold by now.
I moved forward, wild and hurt…unsure why I was pushing this so hard. I should let him get in the shower and live to snoop another day. Instead, I followed him into the bathroom, where his bare ass greeted me.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
From over his shoulder, he glared at me. “You come any closer, and I’m pulling you in here. Clothed, naked, I don’t care, I can fuck that mouth just as easily either way. But rest assured, if you step foot into my bathroom right now, I will fuck you.”
With that he stepped behind the glass door. His eyes closed as he stood under the spray, his hands went to his hair as he washed, all while I stood from the threshold of the bathroom and watched.
I wasn’t sure why I was still there, when I had a clear opportunity to leave. He’d even warned me off, and yet I was caught between exiting and stripping. His threat was an answer— veiled behind a curt tone and derogatory language—but an answer just the same.
Wes was single.
He’d never promise to fuck me otherwise. He wasn’t a cheater. He may have girls he fucks from time to time, but he didn’t have a long-term or serious person in his life at the moment, and there was something about that revelation that pulled a sigh of contentment from my lungs.
Tucking my arms under my elbows, I leaned into the door frame to continue watching his defined torso twist and bend as he washed his body.
I was enjoying the show a little too much as that familiar ache began to grow between my legs.
Then Wes turned in the shower and locked eyes with me while gripping himself.
My mouth parted, my eyes widened, and my breath stalled as I took in the perfection of him. He was the same but different—more defined, and his muscles had increased, which somehow made him broader, which only amplified his girthy, longer-than-I-remembered cock.
Placing a palm on the glass wall beside the door, Wes watched me as he began stroking himself. His abs contracted as his hips dipped forward, pushing his length into his closed palm. His breath clouded the glass in front of him as he groaned, his eyes still locked on me.
I watched in shock and stupor as my own wetness increased and the urge to relieve the ache with my fingers increased. This was so dangerous. So fucking dangerous.
“Come here, River. Bring that smart mouth over here and let me answer your earlier question.”
His voice echoed around the room, but even with the water, I caught every word.
I was two seconds from taking a step forward.
With a heaving chest, I stayed still while his fist moved at a leisure pace, pumping his orgasm out. He emanated another groan as he watched me.
“You come in here, looking hot as fuck with those shorts and those fucking tits and think I actually care why you’re here?
You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.
Now, this is your last warning. If you’re still standing there by the time I finish, I’m going to help you remember why it’s not a good idea to sneak into the club president’s house without permission. ”
That was like a bucket of cold water hitting me in the face.
Why was I so eternally stupid when it came to this man?
He wasn’t Wes. He was the club president, and this wasn’t personal.
He’d fuck any piece of willing ass that snuck into his house, because that’s what club presidents did.
They had eternal pussy at their disposal, and a reputation to uphold.
He wasn’t seeing anyone, but it was obvious that he wasn’t hurting for a warm hole to fill.
“River,” he called, but my eyes were already on the floor.
Why was I watching? Why was I still here?
Shoving off the door frame, I turned on my heel to leave. My feet pushed into the carpet as I heard him curse from the bathroom behind me. The water turned off, and I didn’t hear the rest because I was already taking the stairs.
He was soaking wet and naked as he reached the banister, and peered over it to stare down at me.
“Callie.”
I kept moving until I was at his door, and without giving another glance over my shoulder, I slipped outside.
As soon as I tugged on the door, I heard his feet slapping against the hardwood.
His muttered curse reverberated in my ears as I slammed his door shut and darted around the side of the house, grabbing my shoes from the gas meter.
I hated that I cared.
I hated myself for thinking he’d be different when he was exactly like them.
Which was why I knew I could never stay with him while he had the club. I was glad I left. I knew he’d never be any different once this life lured him in.
Wes had made his choice, and I needed to get a fucking grip.