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Wesley stares at me with a strange expression on his face, then quietly walks to the bed and turns over the covers.
“Come on, let’s retire to bed,” he says. I can’t help but smile at his old-fashioned vocabulary.
We crawl under the sheets, lying as far apart from each other as possible without falling off. Despite the hot shower, I can’t help shivering in the cold bedroom air, tucking myself into a tight ball. The entire cabin is freezing, and the bed is no exception.
“You’re cold,” Wesley says into the dark, his voice so deep it caresses my ears.
“It’s nothing. I’ll get over it and fall asleep soon, so I don’t bother you.”
“If you turn around, we can conserve body heat by sleeping together.”
My breath stutters, but I nod my head enthusiastically before he can rescind the offer. Sleeping together.
The echo of his words makes my head spin.
I flip over until I’m facing the wall, my shoulders tense but I let out a small, content sigh when Wesley’s muscled arm drapes over my waist. He’s roasting, emanating heat like a furnace. It’s comfortable, and I wriggle into his embrace.
“Stop squirming,” Wesley says, hot breath brushing against the top of my head.
“I’m not!"
I am a bit, so I take a deep breath and force myself to close my eyes. All I need to do is fall asleep. That’s it, easy-peasy. Fall under the comforting embrace of darkness, let myself drift off to dreamland…
Except I feel so buzzed, electricity running through me like a wire, the last thing on my mind is sleep.
All I can think about it is Wesley. During our conversation earlier today, he basically asked if I was a virgin and I never got to ask him back.
I frown. Have I ever seen Wesley with anyone, before? He’s not exactly the most forthcoming guy, he never talks to me about that stuff like the other guys do. Things like sex, girls, or jerking off. I won’t lie and say I know what they’re talking about 100% of the time, but I can follow the conversation well enough. I’ve been on the internet, same as any other guy.
Except Wesley. Is he a virgin? Is that why he doesn’t like talking about sex? Or maybe he’s out with a new person every week and I’ve never noticed.
My eyes blink open. I can’t sleep, not without these questions answered.
“Ollie.”
“What?”
Wesley sighs. “Go to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
He squeezes my hip, and a high, quiet moan slips from my mouth. We both pause, Wesley’s body going rigid behind me.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” I say, turning around to face him. It’s hard to see in the dark, but I can make out the wideness of his eyes. “That turned me on a little.”
Wesley rubs his free hand over his face, groaning. “Christ, Ollie.”
I push on. “Plus, I can’t go to sleep.”
“And why is that?”
“I want to know-” I pause, licking my lips. Wesley’s eyes follow the movement, and the hand on my waist tightens slightly. “I want to know if you’ve ever done… you know.”
Wesley raises an eyebrow. “Use your words, Oliver.”
My stomach twists at that, and I bury my face into the pillow. “Oh my God, Wesley. Sex, man, I’m talking about sex.”
“You’re asking me if I’m a virgin.”
He looks a bit smug, that cocky smirk tilting the corner of his lips up and showcasing his dimples in full view. I huff, whacking him lightly on the chest. It feels like solid rock beneath my fingers, and I’m tempted to rest my hand on one of his large pecs. “Yes, that’s what I’m asking.”
