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Beautiful, handsome, hot as hell, inviting, tempting—
None do Wes justice.
He’s just—
Fuck.
“Clothes off.” His voice gets low. Needy. Demanding.
It makes my sex clench.
I nod as I pull my sweater over my head.
He watches with rapt attention as I roll my leggings off my hips.
I kick them aside. Reach for my glasses.
He shakes his head. “We’re gonna have to renegotiate, Quinn.”
“Oh?”
He nods. “Need your glasses on.”
“You like them that much?”
“Yeah.” His fingers brush my temples as he slides my frames off my face. “Shower. Then I come in your mouth.”
My cheeks flame. It’s impossible to hold his gaze. It really is.
“You sure you want that?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“It’s a lot.”
“But the way you say it…” My blush spreads to my chest. “It’s really hot.”
He nods.
“You… is that what you like? Usually?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you…” Deep breath. Steady exhale. Confidence. I can do confidence. “Do you want me to swallow?”
“One thing at a time, angel.”
“You don’t think I can—”
“Just keep a tissue handy.”
“Oh. Okay.” God, this is weird. Honest. Awkward. Hot. I… I have no idea what I’m doing. Not just technically. Emotionally.
But that’s such a distant concern at the moment.
Paris.
This is our Paris.
We’ll always have the summer before med school.
I’m enjoying it.
No matter how much I dread what comes after.
His eyes meet mine.
For a second, they fill with vulnerability.
Then he blinks, and it’s gone.
Back to sex god.
Or sex crazed.
Or both.
His eyelids flutter closed.
His lips meet mine.
He kisses me softly.
Then harder.
His tongue dances with mine.
I push my panties off my hips. Kick them off my ankles. Break our kiss to step into the shower.
He follows me.
Water pounds my head, drips down my neck, back, ass, legs.
He wraps his arms around me.
Pushes me past the stream. All the way to the tile wall.
I’m slick. My back slips against the surface.
He’s slippery too.
His skin glides over mine.
It’s too little friction.
He’s not close enough.
I bring my hand to his shoulder. Pull him close. Kiss him hard.
Fuck, he tastes good.
He always tastes good.
And this is so…
It’s just right.
Does it always feel this right?
Or is it just him?
He pins me to the wall with the heel of one hand.
Brings the other to my chest.
Draws slow circles around my nipple.
“Wes.” I knot my hand in his hair. Pull him closer.
“Yeah, angel?”
“Don’t stop.”
“Never.” His cheek brushes mine as he brings his lips to my neck.
He sucks on my skin as he toys with me.
Harder. Faster. Rougher.
Fuck.
It’s different with my skin wet.
With less friction.
With my heart unfolding for him.
Everything blurs together. The running water. The soft scrape of his teeth. The rough feel of his fingertips.
He has such strong hands.
They’re calloused in all the right places.
Pleasure spreads through my body as he toys with me.
He winds me up until I’m dizzy.
Then he pulls back enough to bring me under the water.
He’s impossibly patient about squeezing shampoo into his hands and running it through my hair.
I tilt my head backward to rinse.
He does the same with conditioner.
Then we switch places and I wash his hair.
It’s weird.
Intimate.
He’s really taking care of me.
And I’m really taking care of him.
We’re so… naked.
I mean, we are naked.
But I feel it. The walls dropping. The space between us shrinking.
It’s not sexy lingerie and dirty talk.
No, it is that.
But it’s more.
It’s… real.
I think.
It’s hard to be sure.
Especially with my body whining for, well, for everything.
I reach for my body wash. Squeeze it into my hands. “You’re going to smell like me.”
“Perfect.”
I rub the gel over his shoulders. Slowly. So I can feel every inch of him.
Soft skin. Hard muscles. The slight raise of ink.
It’s so inviting.
I drag my palms over his chest until I’m out of gel.
Then I retrace my path with my fingertips.
He steps backward.
Rinses his skin.
I squeeze more gel into my hands.
Do it again.
I take my time exploring his arms, back, stomach.
I crouch to rub his feet, ankles, legs.
I get higher, higher, higher.
There.
My palm brushes his cock.
He’s still hard.
And, God, it still feels so fucking good.
He offers me his hand. Helps me up. Kisses me hard.
Then he steps back enough to rinse, switches places with me, and soaps every inch of my skin.
By the time he’s done, I’m shaking.
The pounding water sends me into overdrive.
My body buzzes.
My sex aches.
My nipples wine.
I need him.
All of him.
And I need to stay here, in this beautiful, warm space where everything makes sense.
No wonder he tries to dodge with sex.
It’s fucking amazing.
I rinse my hair one last time then I turn the water off.
He steps out of the shower and offers me a towel.
I cinch it around my chest. Take his hand. Step onto the rug.
Again, he kisses me hard.
Again, my heart thuds against my chest.
My stomach flutters.
My veins buzz.
He slides my glasses on.
Takes a step backward. “You ready for this?”
“Are you?”
His lips curl into a wicked smile.
I melt.
I really do.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Quinn
The door clicks into its frame.
Wind ruffles the sheer curtains.
Light streams through the window. Casts the room in the orange glow of sunset.
