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“So tight,” he groaned, working his finger farther into me. “Can’t wait to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me.”
He pulled his finger out and stuck it into his mouth, moaning as he sucked on it. It was still damp when he clasped my face between his hands and kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips, but it was quickly overpowered by a rich flavor that was all his own.
I was dizzy, and we were both gasping for breath when he ended the kiss. Then he lifted me up, his hands under my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the king sized bed and twisted so he fell onto his back with me on top of him.
Shoving my shirt over my head, he flicked my bra open and let it fall from my shoulders. My back arched when he squeezed my tits together and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth. Switching his attention from side to side, he quickly built me up again as I writhed on top of him.
“More,” I moaned. “I need more, Weston.”
“You need more? I’ll fucking give it to you,” he growled against my lips, his fingers tugging my skirt down. Rising up on my knees, I wiggled until it slid to the mattress and I could kick it away, along with my panties. While he was pulling his shirt over his head, I got to work on his belt and tugged his pants down his legs, taking his boxers with them.
He yanked a condom from his pocket before tossing his pants to the floor on the steadily building pile of clothes. My eyes were torn between the sight of his hand as he stroked his hardened length and the taut muscles of his chest, covered in dark ink. Then the battle for my attention ended when he rolled a condom into place and wrapped his hands around my waist to lift me up until I hovered over his erection.
My palms went to his chest for balance, and I enjoyed the feel of his smooth skin, my fingers tracing over the tattoos beneath them. Leaning down, I kissed him softly before making a plea. “Go slow. It’s been a long time.” A really, really long time, since the awkward night I’d lost my virginity to a fumbling teenager in the backseat of a limo after prom.
With one hand wrapped around his cock, he guided himself into me, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside.
“You’re so damn tight, beautiful. Your pussy feels like it was fucking made for me.”
He was all the way in, my pelvis flush against his, and I felt every inch of him. I reveled in the sensation for one brief moment, and it got even better when I swiveled my hips and rocked into him. He tilted his head back, his heated eyes locked on mine, and power rushed through my veins. He was already close to the edge, and I’d taken him there. Bending lower, I nibbled a trail up his neck to his ear.
“That’s because it’s yours.”
“Fuck!” he yelled, losing control. He flipped us over, my heels digging into the mattress as he hammered into me until his name was ripped from my lips. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moaned, his hips pumping a few more times before he found his pleasure.
We’d spent the rest of the weekend together, somehow managing to top the best sex of my life many times over. But my favorite moments were those when we were cuddled in bed. I could have happily spent the rest of my life in that hotel bed with him, but reality too quickly intruded.
“I’m going to need you to start pushing on the next contraction,” the doctor instructed, pulling me from my memories.
“You can do this,” Macy encouraged, lending me her strength as she stared into my eyes.
My gaze drifted away from her and locked on the door. I was still staring at it when the next contraction hit and I started to push. My eyes remained glued to that damn door for the next two hours of labor as I pushed my baby boy into the world. It wasn’t until I heard his cry fill the room that I finally looked away.
Giving birth to our beautiful baby boy without Weston meant he’d broken his promise to me. I loved my best friend, and she’d done an amazing job as my birthing coach. But she wasn’t the person I’d needed with all my heart. She wasn’t Weston.
It was finally time for me to accept the reality of my situation and give up the hopes and dreams I’d weaved around him. He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. I needed to look ahead to my future. I had a precious baby to raise—a treasured gift from the man who’d stolen my heart and smashed it to pieces.
1
Weston
“Welcome back, Weston.” I looked up from the paperwork on my desk to see Kat, my handler, standing next to my desk. I lifted my chin in greeting. Her eyes flickered up and down my body, and I felt like there was something odd in her expression. Then again, I knew what she was seeing.
My hair was buzzed along the sides but left just a little too long on the top. A small silver hoop winked from my right ear lobe, and scruff covered the bottom half of my face, like always. It didn’t matter if I shaved in the morning. She couldn’t see most of it under my dress shirt and suit coat, but my arms, hands, chest, and back were covered in ink and with my height and muscular build, it was pretty common for people to fear me. I looked like one badass motherfucker.
I was also one hell of a shot, a decent boxer, and could out drink most men. Most people would never guess that I was born into a wealthy family, had a degree from Harvard, and was worth millions.
The Company took full advantage of my look and skills, sending me on the most dangerous missions in the seedy underbellies of the world. It wasn’t until this last mission that I began to question how long my life expectancy really was if I kept up with these jobs.
“Hey, Kat. I’m about to head to my meeting, just grabbing my reports.” I shook my head as I shuffled through them again. “A year undercover on one fucking assignment, you’d think The Company could streamline it down to one.”
She snickered and stepped back when I stood, grabbing my bag and coat. I was beat, I hadn’t even been home yet, instead coming straight to the office for my assignment debrief.
I stuck my hands in the pockets of my slacks as we walked, a question rolling around in my head. It was ridiculous to ask. It had been a year of silence, but somehow, I still couldn’t help holding out a spark of hope. “Have there been any messages to that dummy email I set up?”
Kat threw me a look of sympathy and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Wes. Nothing.”
A flash annoyance streaked through me at her use of the nickname. I fucking hated being called Wes, but it wasn’t worth correcting her, she’d just keep using it. I pushed the irritation aside and got back to my original question.
“You checked to make sure it was working?” I drilled her with a no-nonsense stare. Her lips turned down into a pout, and I checked the urge to roll my eyes.
“Of course I did. I sent several test emails. It’s hard enough being undercover, I wanted to make sure you weren’t completely cut off from everyone but me.” We reached the conference room door and she smiled before stepping inside. I waited for a moment, trying to get a grip on my disappointment. In lieu of putting my fist through the wall in front of me, I mentally pounded on my head, trying to dislodge any remaining emotions toward Aspen Kennedy. It didn’t work. She’d turned me into a fucking pussy.
I sighed and went in, taking a seat across the table from my superior. I spent the next three hours going over every detail of every report I’d written about my assignment. By the time we were done, I was dead on my feet. I grabbed a cab to my Georgetown apartment, barely noticing all of the stately scenery that made up Washington D.C. Instead, thoughts of Aspen filled my head, no matter how hard I tried to avoid them. When I finally fell into bed, I didn’t have the energy to fight them any longer and I was swamped in her memory.
Before this last mission, I’d stopped in Atlanta to see my baby sister, Jenna. We’d grown up there and while I’d gone to Georgetown University in D.C., she’d stayed close to home, even though our parents had retired to Florida. I had intended to spend the whole week with her, but Friday night, I’d gone to a bar with my best friend, Xander, and everything changed.
