AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Raleigh,” says West quietly. He’s gotten close enough to touch me, reaching out a hand to grip my chin and drawing my gaze back to his. “Talk to me, pretty boy.”
I jerk my head out of his grasp. “What do you want me to say, West? You’ve made yourself pretty damn clear. You don’t have to drag it out like this. Hell, you were already ghosting me. Why go to the trouble of telling me all this in person at all?”
“You think I’m here to break things off?” he asks, sounding incredulous.
“What else?” I scoff, turning for the kitchen. I’m not one for day-drinking but fuck it. This sucks, and I know there’s at least a six-pack left in the fridge.
West grabs my arm as I stalk past him.
“Raleigh,” he says. “Raleigh.” He puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.
“What?” I can’t look at him. West swears.
“I’m here because I can’t stay away.” With that bomb still going off in my ears, he pulls me into his chest.
His mouth is firm and warm, the sharp stubble of his chin a novelty that excites me beyond anything I’d ever imagined. All the Internet… research… I’d done this last week confirmed it—I had a definite thing for the scruff.
“Never shave,” I mumble. West laughs into my mouth, making sure to drag his jaw along mine the next time he pulls back for air.
“I missed you.” He says it so quietly, I think maybe I imagined it. “You and Callie. So much.”
“Then maybe answer your texts next time,” I say against his neck. Trying to catch my breath proves to be a futile exercise. West begins stroking his hands over my back, circling closer and closer to my ass every time.
“Breathe,” he says. I can feel his quick smile against my cheek. I obey. His aftershave is a different scent today. Before I mention it, I realize it’s the same scent as last week. There’s just no ocean air and sand mixed in with it.
West nips at my jaw with his teeth, making me shudder.
“We didn’t get much time to ourselves last week,” he murmurs.
“No.”
“Looks like we’ve got a few minutes now,” he says, his mouth trailing kisses down the side of my neck.
“Mm.”
“Raleigh.” I open my eyes because West is amused about something and I don’t get the joke. “That’s my roundabout way of asking when your parents will be home.”
“Oh,” I say, swallowing hard. Ignoring the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, I check the clock on the wall. “At least a couple of hours, I think. They were both planning to stay a full shift, Mom said.”
The amusement flickers out, and something darker, hotter takes its place.
“Can I touch you?” he asks.
Yes, God yes, please yes.
“No,” I say, thwarting my newly activated inner slut voice, who squalls in protest. But last weekend opened up a whole new side of myself to explore and a list of things I’ve never tried.
It’s a long list.
West has gone still, his hand hovering in midair between us. I take his fingers, drawing them up to my mouth and tracing my lips with his fingertips before biting down gently.
I push him back, just a little, until his feet hit the sofa, then shove him once, hard. West lands back against the cushion, bouncing just a little, keeping his hands at his sides. I straddle his lap, pulling at the buttons on his shirt. He lifts his hips, letting me tug the fabric out of the way, pushing it down his arms so I can run my hands over his skin. His body is so different from my own, which I didn’t expect—more muscle, for sure. A different energy that I find hard to explain, even in my own head. The pieces ought to be so similar, but I was never so fascinated by my own self.
West rolls his hips northward, his thick erection riding right between my legs. He smiles when I suck in a breath.
“Like that, do you?” he says, and does it again. And again.
It takes no time at all to make me frantic, scrabbling for the button of his pants, desperate for access. West is breathing fast, his hips pumping constantly. Watching his face carefully, I dip my head and swipe his nipple with my tongue. West catches his breath, his mouth falling open a little farther. Taking it as a good sign, I do it again, this time catching the little bud against my teeth with fleeting pressure. West’s hand sinks into my hair, holding me in place.
