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ChapterTwenty-One
Emilia
One second West was arguing with me, standing far too close, and the next, he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me.
For a beat, I froze. I’d dreamed of this, more than once. And yet, it wasn’t something I should allow to continue. No matter what West believed, I knew what I’d done. And I didn’t deserve to be happy, not even a little.
Kissing West would make me more than happy.
However, as his tongue lightly stroked the opening of my lips, I couldn’t resist. With a groan, I parted them, and his tongue slipped inside. The first stroke of his tongue against mine snapped something inside me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him. Weeks of longing and desire and wishing for what I shouldn’t have rushed forth. I licked and stroked and suckled his tongue, loving how he groaned and guided my hips until my belly was pressed up against his hard cock.
The feel of it only made me hotter, and the kiss turned almost desperate.
When his hands went to my ass and lifted, I didn’t even hesitate to wrap my legs around his waist. As he rubbed me against his hard length, I sucked in a breath. It’d been so long since I’d even made out with a guy, but this…this was different.
I was on fire.
As if sensing my brain was going to start working again, West nipped my bottom lip and claimed my mouth again. He wasn’t gentle, our teeth even clashed at one point, and yet I didn’t care. Every lick and stroke and suckle drove me insane. And combined with his jeans-clad cock pressing against my clit and pussy, I was so, so close.
I should stop him. I really should. Orgasms were something I really didn’t deserve.
But then West’s grip on my ass tightened, and he moved me faster against him. The friction built, and I fought it, I fought it hard. West took no mercy, however, and kept at it—kissing me, pressing me closer against him, and hitting just the right spot between my thighs.
I came with a cry, pleasure shooting through my body as my pussy clenched and released, made more intense by the fact that West never ceased tormenting me with his dick.
As my pussy stilled and I came down from my high, his kiss gentled. A light nibble here, a soft kiss there, until eventually, he laid his forehead against mine.
“Do you still think I hate you, Emmy? Because I’m willing to do that again and again until you fucking believe me that I don’t.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say it was lust. Hate fucking was a thing, after all.
And yet, it felt wrong to use those words about West and what he’d just done. What we’d done.
Shyness came over me, and all I could think about was getting away from him. Because when he held me and kissed me and gripped my ass so possessively, it made me want to believe I could have this. That maybe I could try for something with West, get to see his kids every day, and possibly have a family of my own one day.
But then years of guilt and internal arguments crashed over me, and I knew wishing for any of that was ridiculous. Somehow, I’d end up hurting West. Just like I’d done with my parents and brother.
And the man deserved better. Much better.
“Put me down.”
He paused but then did as I asked. I wobbled a bit until I found my footing and then retreated several feet away from him. “If you want to be my friend, I can’t stop you.” I finally met his gaze. “But we can’t be more than that, West. I just can’t do it.”
Grabbing my backpack, I hightailed it back down the trail. I knew we’d have to share the car back to Reno, and I wouldn’t get my picture of Tahoe at sunset, but I desperately need some distance.
And as I waited by the car, I knew that I could never be alone with Weston Wolfe ever again.
Because I didn’t think I’d be able to resist him a second time.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Weston
It took every bit of restraint I possessed not to run after Emmy. However, I’d seen the mixture of guilt and surprise and longing in her eyes after she’d come grinding against my dick, and I didn’t want to push her too far.
Especially since I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to do about the woman.
