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Maybe he’d even then flip me over, hold my hips, and make me come all over again.
My cheeks heated as I changed clothes and laced my shoes.You have to resist him. You can’t get involved like that, for so many reasons.
After a few deep breaths and fanning my cheeks, I grabbed my backpack and camera and went to meet West at his car. I found him leaning against it, arms crossed, as he watched an airplane fly overhead.
Despite the years since the accident, the airplane reminded me of that day:
Mommy, Daddy, are we there yet? I want to see Rafe! Can you go faster? Please?
Hush, Emmy, sweetie. We’ll be there soon.
Except we never made it to the airport.
West appeared in front of me, his brows drawn together. “Are you all right?”
I blinked and locked those memories up tight. “I’m fine. I just wondered if you were practicing poses for the upcoming Starry Wolfe wine photoshoot that Sabrina has planned.”
His eyes narrowed, clearly aware I was lying my ass off, but thankfully, he didn’t push. “Are you on Aunt Lori’s side, saying we should pose shirtless?”
I snorted, having heard that discussion once during dinner. “If you have it, flaunt it, right? I’m sure you could make a new calendar—Winery Hunks of Sonoma, or something.”
His lips twitched, and it made my heart rate kick up. West wasn’t exactly a smiley person, so when he did—or nearly did—it was a big deal.
“Hunks? I haven’t heard that word in a while.”
“Well, you do have a few gray hairs, and I wanted to use words you’d understand.”
His gaze turned heated, and I sucked in a breath. “There’s something to be said about experience.”
For a few seconds, we merely stared at each other, almost as if time stilled, and the rest of the world faded away. My heart thudded, and I wondered if his did the same.
Just what had experience taught him? Would he show me if I asked?
A car drove into the parking lot, snapping me back to the present. I pushed aside my dirty thoughts and asked, “Does your experience come from watching so much porn over the years that you think you know it all?”
“Haven’t you ever tried reenacting a porn scenario, Emmy?”
My cheeks heated as I remembered one of the videos Katie had insisted I watch—she had no shame and zero fucks to give when it came to sex and orgasm fodder. The video had a producer needing to make extremely, extremely sure the woman was just what he wanted for the part. Her stripping and posing on command, him licking and lapping her clit and pussy and kissing every inch of her body before bending her over his desk and fucking her hard.
I pressed my legs together at the image of West doing that to me.
And it took every bit of strength I had not to glance at his crotch and see if he was thinking similar thoughts.
I finally found my voice. “No, I haven’t. And if you think we’re going to end up lost in the woods for days, with no hope of rescue, so we have no choice but to notice each other and go at it like rabbits, then you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
I swore I heard West growl low in his throat. However, I turned and went to the passenger side of the car. “Are we going to Tahoe or not?”
My reaching for the door handle snapped him into action, and he rushed to open the door for me. Even if I knew Beck and Zach did this too, it felt different with West. Though who the hell knew why.
Once we were in the car, West got us on the road and switched on the radio. He had some alternative rock playing, and I smiled. “What? No country music?”
“I used to like it, but that was my mom’s thing.”
He didn’t say anything else, but I filled in the rest—it was too painful to listen to it, because it reminded him of her.
“I get that. M-my parents liked oldies most of the time. The cornier the better. And I can’t listen to them any longer either.”
I couldn’t believe I’d just shared that. I didn’t talk about my mom and dad. Ever.
