The One You Can't Forget Page 19

  She rolled her lips together and tried to focus. “Does it sting? I hope you’re not already burned.”

  “No,” he said, his voice lower than before. “It feels good now.”

  She added more cream, set the bottle on the ground, and then swept her hands down his back, over the muscles, and dipped her thumbs into those little indentations she’d been admiring, making slow circles. Wes’s muscles rippled with tension beneath her touch.

  Her mouth was dry, her heartbeat fast. “Turn around.”

  When he did, his gaze was hooded, his attention heavy on her, but he didn’t say a word. He simply leaned over to grab the bottle of lotion and tipped the cream into her hands. She looked down, the eye contact too much, and forced her hands to be steady as he filled them with sunblock again. Every part of her was aware and pulsing in time with her heartbeat now, but when she flattened her hands on the front side of his inked shoulders and dragged the lotion down over his chest, any hope she had of maintaining her cool left her. Every feminine part of her tightened. She kept her face down, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hide her thoughts.

  Rebecca tracked her hands lower over his abdomen, watching the muscles tense and dip beneath her fingers, but when she got near his waist, he dropped the bottle and his hands gripped her wrists, stilling her. “Stop.”

  She looked up, finding him with his jaw locked and his hazel eyes stormy. She cleared her throat, trying to find her voice. “Everything okay?”

  “No.”

  She blinked. “No?”

  “If you keep doing this, there’s going to be no hiding from you or anyone who walks by exactly what this is doing to me.”

  She glanced down at his shorts and couldn’t miss the growing interest. Her throat worked as tingly heat spread all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. “Oh.”

  “Right. So maybe I should take it from here before this gets embarrassing.” He released her wrists.

  Her hands were still on his waist, and she knew she was supposed to move them away. This was venturing into the deep end. They weren’t there yet. She needed to back away. Splash around in the shallow end and get used to the water. But instead, all thought spilled out of her head. She gripped his hips harder, leaned forward, and pressed her mouth to the spot between his pecs.

  Wes stilled, his body going rigid beneath her kiss.

  She kept her lips there, his skin salty and warm, and let her hands travel up his abdomen, exploring. He let out a soft moan. One of desperation. Of barely there restraint.

  His response sent bravery bubbling up inside her. She lifted her head. “Wes?”

  His face was tipped back toward the sky. “Yeah?”

  “You said earlier you were afraid you’d try to talk me into something. You wouldn’t have to talk me into anything right now. But I’m tempted to talk you into some things. Tell me not to.”

  A harsh breath whooshed out of him, and his big hands cupped her jaw as he caught her gaze. “You’re asking me to talk some sense into you? You’ve got no shot at that. I can’t see straight right now. You’re all wet and undone, and having your slick hands on me… Bec, all I can think about is taking you inside and stripping you out of these wet clothes and making you feel good. Hell, I’m not even sure I can wait for the walk to the apartment. The driver’s seat is starting to look pretty roomy. And the windows are still too dirty to see through.”

  She laughed at that. “Wesley Garrett, I am not getting naked with you in a dirty school bus.”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to be getting naked at all. I thought we weren’t going to rush,” he reminded her.

  “You’re right. We probably shouldn’t rush. But…”

  “But?”

  “But whose rules are we following?” she asked. “I want you. You want me. We’re grown-ups. I know what this is.”

  “And that is?” he asked carefully.

  “Fun, Wes. Just fun between friends. And I want to have fun with you.”

  “Naked fun,” he said, his lips curving.

  “Yes, but not in a dirty school bus.”

  He grinned wide. “It was the lack of shirt. I told you.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “Nope, it was the books. I’ve been hot and bothered and completely distracted since. Entire sexual fantasies have been woven. Filthy thoughts have been had.”

  “Filthy?”

  “Does it still count as filthy if it involved soapy water, roaming hands, and a lot of tongue? Things got very, very clean.”

  “Fuck.” He kissed her then, stealing her breath, and then broke away just as roughly. “You’re killing me.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Don’t be.” With that, he grabbed her and lifted her off her feet.

  She gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist. “You’re going to drop me.”

  “Not gonna happen.” He carried her toward the condo, leaving all their supplies behind. “I swear I didn’t bring you here for this.”

  “I know.”

  “But damn,” he said, holding her tighter, “I’m glad it’s now.”

  She laughed and kissed him. “Me too. Now is awesome.”

  In fact, now was her new favorite thing. This morning she’d melted down onstage and had a flashback, wrestled with an emotional vampire that had sucked every ounce of good feeling out of her. She’d planned to spend the rest of the day burying herself in busywork to block all of it out, to go back to that place where she could hide. But somehow this man had thwarted her plan and had her laughing and turned on only a few hours later.

  Everything inside her felt buoyed. As if this morning had tied bricks to her feet and dropped her in the ocean, and Wes had somehow cut the chains loose and not only thrown her a life vest, but plunked her on a speedboat and put the wind in her hair.

  She felt…light.

  She’d forgotten how that felt.

  He’d called her a sorceress, but he was looking pretty damn magical himself. She knew she needed to be careful about having any of those kinds of feelings. She knew that trap. This was how people ended up in her office. They trusted these moments as something more meaningful than they actually were. This was just fun. Attraction and infatuation. Novelty. She couldn’t overthink it and mistake it for anything more than that.

  So she was turning that analytical switch in her brain off for a little while. She would enjoy this man, this moment, and the fluttery feeling coursing through her. This was what Kincaid had been talking about. Find a guy you like. Be a little wild. Don’t make it a big thing. Enjoy the ride.

  She’d never done that before with a guy—or in any part of her life, really. Even in her previous experiences with guys, she had stayed grounded and practical. But this thing with Wes could never be mistaken for practical. He was risk wrapped in rebellion and laced with temptation. There was an intensity to her attraction to him that felt dangerous.

  God. She had a crush.

  She hadn’t had one since Finn, which should probably worry her. But there was no way she was walking away from Wes yet.

  This feeling was too good to let go of. Wes was her new drug and, goddammit, she had earned a bender.

  “You’ve got your thinking face on.” Wes said as he balanced her and unlocked his door. “What’s on that mind of yours, lawyer girl?”

  A slow smile touched her lips. “Just you. Lots and lots of you.”

  “Good. I’ve always liked being the center of attention.”

  She laughed. And when he set her down in his bathroom, turned on the shower, and kissed down her neck, her answer was the God’s honest truth. This man didn’t leave room in her mind for anything else.

  That was all she could think about right now.

  Not the brunch. Not the future. Not anything at all.

  Just Wes.

  chapter

/>   EIGHTEEN

  Wes was half convinced he’d passed out from heat exhaustion and was really lying out in the parking lot having some sort of fever dream. Because he couldn’t possibly be in his bathroom kissing down Rebecca’s throat, cupping her ass, and about to strip her naked.

  They’d agreed not to rush. They’d agreed to be smart. To continue getting to know each other. He wasn’t going to be old Wes who did everything on a whim without considering the fallout. But then the lawyer who had once dressed him down with one shrewd, derisive look in court had given him the sexiest, most come-hither gaze he’d ever encountered. I want you. And it hadn’t been put on. No guile at all.

  It had annihilated any good sense he had.

  That was one of the things that he couldn’t get enough of with Rebecca. She didn’t play games like the other women he’d been with. Confident in the courtroom and confident in her decisions. Outside, when she’d put her hands on him, rubbed the lotion into his skin, he’d been in physical pain with the need that had coursed through him. His mind couldn’t help imagining her hands sliding lower, dipping into his shorts, taking his cock in her slick hand. His own hands roaming over her body and thumbing the hard points of her nipples beneath that borrowed T-shirt. But he’d forced himself to keep it in check, to not act like some hard-up guy who couldn’t control himself.

  But when he’d given her a chance to back away, she’d made the move instead. Feeling her lips on his chest had been more erotic than he could’ve imagined such a simple move being. What it represented had flipped every one of his switches.

  She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to tell him that. No gray areas. No coy games.

  Bold and honest.

  She wanted to feel good. To have fun.

  He wasn’t going to let her down.

  He lifted his head and pulled the elastic band from her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. The humidity outside had made it curl. He wrapped a lock around his finger and smiled. “You have curls.”

  She smirked. “Don’t tell anyone my secret. I straighten it every morning. I had enough Little Orphan Annie references in kindergarten to last me a lifetime.”

  He slid his hand over the curve of her ass and pulled her close. “You don’t look like Annie. You look like some secret, wild version of the buttoned-up lawyer everyone else knows. I like it.”

  “There is no wild version of me.”

  “Liar,” he said against her ear, then kissed the hollow behind it, liking the way she shivered against him. “Kissing some guy on the first night just to see what it was like? A little wild.”

  She tipped her head back with a sigh.

  He slid a hand beneath the wet T-shirt, pushing her bra up and cupping her breast, the feel of all that soft, warm flesh making him go painfully hard. He dragged his thumb over her nipple, and she made a needy sound in the back of her throat that made him lose his words for a second. He licked his lips. “Buying a food truck on a whim to help a charity? Pretty wild, lawyer girl.”

  She scoffed, but there was no real oomph behind it.

  “Getting naked with someone you used to hate on a Sunday afternoon? Definitely wild,” he declared. “I think you’ve just been fooling everyone else with the uptight routine.”

  She gave a lazy smile, eyes still closed. “Never. I’m the good girl, Wes. The straight-A student. I’m the girl next door.”

  The mocking in her voice was hard to miss.

  “That’s what people say, huh?” He pinched her nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. “Well, they’re not looking hard enough. Because I felt it when you kissed me that first night. You’re all fire, Bec. You’ve just figured out clever ways to bank it. But you can’t hide it from me.”

  He pulled the T-shirt up and over her head, taking her bra with it, and cursed under his breath as a sharp kick of need almost rocked him onto his heels. Some of her faint freckles had made a path down her chest, a path that he could imagine tracing with his tongue. But what really did him in was the sight of the tight, rosy points of her breasts, announcing just how turned on she was.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous I can barely stand it,” he said, the words tumbling out of him.

  Her eyes blinked open, that deep-blue gaze capturing him. She looked…surprised. He hated that. Hated that being told she was gorgeous was what threw her. Whatever guys she’d had in her life had apparently been idiots who didn’t know how to state the obvious.

  He tossed the shirt aside and took her wrists, lifting her arms over her head and pinning them to the shower door. “You keep these here for me. I’m gonna need a minute.”

  Her throat worked and she held his gaze, but when he released her wrists, she turned them to grab the shower door and kept them there. “Wes, the water…”

  He pressed his fingers over her lips and smiled. “Patience. A chef likes to savor.”

  * * *

  Savor.

  Rebecca was going to implode—just turn into nothing and disappear. No way her body could sustain this level of arousal for any extended period of time. But Wes gave her a look that said he was one hundred percent serious. He wanted her to stand there and let him have his fill.

  He reached for the waistband of the shorts she’d borrowed and dragged them down her hips, along with her panties, until they dropped to the floor and she stepped out of them. She had a dart of panic at the thought of being so exposed, but then his hand cupped her breast, and he bent to take it in his mouth.

  The wet heat of his tongue grazed across her sensitive flesh and her sex clenched, a soft cry escaping her. The steamy air spilling out of the shower moved over her bare skin, but she was already on fire. Wes sucked and teased, his other hand reaching up to stroke her other breast. Her back arched, and she wondered if it was possible to come just from this. Every nip of his teeth and swipe of his tongue felt like it was between her legs and not just at her breast.

  But when he pulled away and looked down her body, the nerves resurfaced like a thousand butterfly wings beating inside her chest.

  She took a deep breath. She was no virgin, but for her, sex had always taken a fairly prescribed route. It involved a dark room and sheets and the horizontal position. Being so exposed in the lights of the bathroom had her feeling more than a little vulnerable—and not just because of her scars. But when she caught the look on Wes’s face as his focus slid over her, the worry morphed into something else.

  Wes looked like a man who’d just been served the most delicious meal of his life. When he’d told her she was gorgeous, she’d at first been taken aback. Men didn’t call her that. Pretty, at times. Elegant, once or twice. But nothing more emphatic than that. So when Wes had said it, she’d chalked it up to him making her feel good. But seeing how he was looking at her now, she realized she’d been wrong. His attraction was so visceral she could almost feel the desire in his eyes like a touch.

  It made her feel wholly…present. Completely in her skin in a way she’d never felt before with a man. Something tightly knotted unwound inside her. “I think it’s exceptionally unfair that I’m the only one naked.”

  Wes gave her a sly smile and a look full of heat. “Still bossy even with her hands above her head.”

  “You expected that to change?”

  “Nope.” He reached for his shorts and pushed them down and off. Rebecca let her gaze travel from the floor upward, taking in the long legs, strong thighs, and then finally the smooth, hard length of him. Her thighs pressed together, the sight of him sending a fresh wave of need through her and reminding her how damn long it’d been since she’d slept with anyone.

  Wes took his cock in his hand and gave it an easy stroke as he stepped close again. “Better? All’s fair now, Bec?”

  “Only if I can use my hands now.”

  He smiled. “Not yet. I’ve got places to go.” He slid hot palms onto her wai
st and lowered his knees to the rug. “Things to savor.”

  Before she could begin to process Wes at her feet, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her bad knee, right over the thickest scar. Her belly flip-flopped, but before she could freak out, he moved up her thigh, kissing over the other ugly places and the smooth ones, and slipped his hand between her legs, stroking over the slick, sensitive skin.

  The panic that had been trying to take over evaporated like mist on a hot day. Wes took his time, easing a finger inside her, giving her slow-building pleasure as he kissed his way up. But when he reached the apex of her thighs and dragged his tongue over her clit, all sense of slow-building disappeared. Her head tapped back against the shower door, and she hissed out a breath at the shock of need that zipped through her.

  The flat of his tongue rolled over her, and her hands went to his hair. She couldn’t keep them above her any longer, couldn’t not touch him. He grunted at her grip but didn’t back away. He just kept tasting her, his lips and tongue and finger working in a slow, sensual dance, as if he really was savoring her and enjoying the tease.

  “Wes…if you keep…I’m gonna…”

  He eased back for a minute, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh and then peered up at her, promise in his eyes. “That’s the point, gorgeous. We’ve got all the time in the world. Let me make you feel good. The supply of these is not limited.”

  “But…” The protest died on her lips as he lifted her bad knee to rest over his shoulder and opened her body to him. He kissed her long and deep right where she ached the most, and her vision blurred as everything sparked like static along her skin.

  She closed her eyes and held on to his head as if she were hanging off a cliff and he was all she had to keep from falling. She’d wanted to tell him that if she came now, she wouldn’t be able to do that again for a long while. But the words wouldn’t form and then the orgasm was washing over her, steamrolling any resistance she could’ve mustered.

  She cried out, her head tapping the shower door, and arched into him, letting herself get swallowed up by all the pleasure. It’d been so long since she’d come by anyone else’s touch that she’d forgotten how different it was, how that out-of-control feeling of knowing she was completely at someone else’s mercy amplified each sensation. They would give, and she would take. And boy, was Wes giving. He pushed her past the point where she would’ve stopped herself and called it good, sending her to a more intense, breath-stealing place that had her writhing and cursing and calling his name—all at the same time.