Chapter Twenty #3
“You’re damn right it won’t,” she snapped, studying him, unsure if there was something else she should add to ensure that he understood her outrage, but her mind was spinning and she couldn’t think straight. She walked toward the door, opened it, and turned back to him.
“You will not mention this to any of your friends, or anyone at all, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Good.” She left the cottage, marched across the lawn to her house, stepped inside, and locked the door behind her.
Upstairs, she was shaking. She stared at the hand that had slapped his face, his handsome, smooth face.
She brushed her teeth and tried to focus on herself in the mirror.
Her blond hair fell around her face in soft waves, messy now from his fingers running through them, and she stared back at herself in wonder.
What had she done? When he took her hand, she had let him.
When he pulled her toward him, she had let him.
When he kissed her, she’d let him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reliving the moment, so sensual and forbidden, feeling his hand on her cheek, his soft lips on hers, the taste of rum on his warm breath, the look of shock on his face when she slapped him.
Dear God. She squeezed her hands into fists. She had slapped him.
Suddenly a hundred questions were running through her head.
Why had he come back from the Rendezvous alone without the others?
Had he planned to seduce her? Was he really in medical school?
Why was he even here for Bal Week? What was he thinking, kissing her?
She rushed back downstairs, and before she could change her mind she walked back across the lawn to the cottage and knocked.
When he opened the door in his undershirt and trousers he didn’t say a word.
“Can I come in?”
He looked at her warily, his wavy brown hair disheveled, but he pulled the door open and let her in.
She walked into the main sitting area that had clearly been converted to a bedroom for the week and awkwardly paced the small space, not sure whether to sit or stand.
Wes cleared the sheets off the sofa that sat in the middle of the room, but she remained standing.
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“They’re still out. They stay out pretty late, squeezing every ounce of fun out of this week.”
“I have some questions,” she said, her arms crossed.
“Shoot,” he said, perching on the arm of the sofa.
“What do you mean you go to medical school?” she asked.
“I’m in medical school. I’ve finished my classes and I’m about to start my residency. Listen, Milly…”
“I’m not done.”
“OK.”
“Why did you come here? Isn’t Bal Week supposed to be for college kids and high school kids?”
“Luke is my brother. He and his friends had been planning it for a while. They’re seniors, so it’s their last year.
Luke and I are close, but he can get a bit wild sometimes.
He asked me to come; he thought it would be good for me to have a break before my residency starts, and I thought it might not be a bad idea to keep an eye on him, keep him out of trouble, you know.
” He shrugged. “It was a last-minute decision to come.”
“Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on him now?” she asked.
“I’m not his babysitter,” he said. “I’m just here if he needs me.” He sighed. “Sometimes he drinks too much. I just want to make sure he’s got things under control.”
Milly nodded, trying to remain calm and absorb all he was telling her in her flustered state.
“He gets that from my father,” he said, looking away. “It’s as if he doesn’t have an off button: Sometimes he doesn’t know when enough is enough.”
“I understand that,” Milly said, then cleared her throat. “I need to know something else.”
“OK.”
“Why did you do that?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Do what?”
“You know what,” she said.
“Milly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to … I thought you…” He looked at the ground. “I guess I hoped you were feeling what I was feeling.”
She was. She wanted to tell him that every part of her body was filled with longing then and now at this very moment, but she couldn’t.
How could she? She had a husband and children, a marriage to salvage, or she’d be ruined, shunned, destitute.
He shook his head, and she watched him, arms crossed on his chest, his muscles taut and tense and even more pronounced under his tanned skin.
“I made a mistake,” he said in a whisper. But she couldn’t let him believe that. She took a tiny, trembling step toward him.
“Wes,” she said, “you didn’t.” He looked up, his dark eyebrows lifting, pieces of his tousled hair falling over his eyes, making her catch her breath.
“You didn’t make a mistake.” She moved closer and was standing right in front of him now, inches apart, a lingering question between them as he sat on the edge of the sofa.
He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his knees, likely not wanting to make assumptions after the last time.
She looked at his hands and she wanted them on her, she needed to feel his touch again, for him to pull her toward him.
The thought of his hands moving from his knees to her hips, up her torso, and onto her skin made her heart pound and her breath quicken, but she could tell he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
Milly brought her hands to his thick brown hair and ran her fingers through it, brushing it back from his face. The sensation of his hair in her hands was so heightened, it was as if she’d never touched another person before.
“Milly, we can’t,” he said, turning away slightly. “I shouldn’t have…”
“Yes,” she whispered, “you should.” He studied her for a few seconds, then she leaned toward him and kissed him.
He quickly wrapped his arms around her, all hesitation gone, one hand reaching back for her rear and pulling her into him, the other traveling up her spine.
The kiss wasn’t gentle now, it was hungry.
His lips parted and she felt his tongue, the taste of him unblocking something primal in her.
She ran her hands across his strong shoulders and down his back, pulling him to her, wanting him closer.
She could feel the heat emanating from him, warming her.
They were pressed together but it wasn’t close enough.
He slowly unzipped her dress all the way down her back, kissing her neck, her collarbone, her chest, the soft touch of his fingers following the zipper down. He began to unfasten her bra.
“I was not expecting this,” she murmured as she looked up to the ceiling, then her eyes closed as she felt his soft fingers on her skin, each touch a new wave of ecstasy.
“Neither was I,” he said, his lips hovering over hers now. “But I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now.” He kissed her again, slowly this time, letting her savor every second. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
She pulled his T-shirt over his head and felt her stomach flip again at the sight of his tanned, smooth skin on his sculpted body.
“They could come back,” Milly said, almost too overtaken with lust to care.
“They could,” he said, “but they won’t, not for a while.”
Wes got up from where he sat and locked the door.
When he returned, he slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders and stepped out of his trousers, then he walked the two of them backward to the sofa where he lay Milly down.
He lowered his body on hers, the weight of him, the heat of him, the sensation of so much of him against her making her crazy with desire.
Milly couldn’t think straight as his mouth traveled down her neck, his hands moving down her stomach and slipping beneath her lace underwear.
She had never been touched like this before, ever, and it was a whole world of pleasure opening up to her.
His chest on hers, her thighs wrapping around him, pulling him closer.
She wanted to feel every inch of his skin pressed against hers and she couldn’t wait any longer.
She felt for him fast and desperate. He groaned, bowing his head to her shoulder.
“Milly,” he murmured, “are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said, pulling him into her. “Yes,” she repeated, breathless now, when they finally moved together as if they had been made for this.
She pulled him toward her, pressing herself to him, desperate to feel more of him, and he did everything her touch asked, moving deeper into her as she arched her back, gripping the back of the sofa until she couldn’t take it anymore.
His name rushed out of her in a desperate cry.
Wes groaned into her neck and pulled her hips to him again and again and one final time before collapsing next to her, pulling her close and not letting her go.
Milly let out a sigh of deep and dreamy relief, pleasure, and utter, melting relaxation.
They lay in a sweaty heap, content. “I think I’m in a state of shock,” Milly said softly.
“I’m in a state of bliss,” Wes said, tracing the outline of her collarbone with his finger.
“So, medical school?” Milly said.
“That’s right,” Wes said. “I always wanted to be a doctor.”
“Well, you certainly understand the human body,” Milly said, and he laughed.
“I just can’t believe I’m here with you.”
“Me neither,” he said, “but somehow I think it was inevitable.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, smiling.
“I don’t know, there’s just something about you, something magnetic. You undid me. But I think I may have been a bad influence on you.”
“You certainly have,” she said.
She didn’t want to move, to leave his side. She wanted to stay tucked into his warm embrace, her body pressed against his until the sun came up, but she couldn’t.
After a while she turned to him. “I have to go; I don’t want to, but I have to,” she whispered. “The others could be back any minute.”
“I know,” he said as she stood and picked up her dress, then he leaned down to kiss her again before zipping her up.
He threw on his shirt and trousers and pulled her toward him. “You…” He breathed into her hair. “You’re incredible.”
And she carried that with her across the lawn, into her house, and upstairs to her room, where she turned out the light and lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling feeling as if she were forever changed.
She couldn’t sleep right away, her mind racing, her body still wound up and buzzing.
It wasn’t until she lay there and tried to still her mind that she realized how perfunctory things had been with Lloyd, how detached they had seemed from one another.
She’d been so young when they married, and never having known any other way, she’d thought that was normal.
But after being with Wes and experiencing how much he wanted her and how he even seemed to need her, she realized what she’d been missing.
A strange and unfamiliar surge of femininity ran through her—an energy, powerful and womanly pulsing from her head to her toes.
It was a feeling that she had lost, or maybe she’d never had it to begin with. But now she knew what was possible.