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CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
TANNER
Love.
I didn’t think love was ever on the table for me. But as this man promises me the world, promises me forever, I think that I could fall in love. That I could already have fallen. That I could be in love with him.
I am no doubt foolish, but at the same time, he’s made it perfectly clear that he wants me… wants us. I watch as Brent drives away, and I know that it’s over. I can feel it deep inside of me. It’s like a death, the end of this relationship, this brother-sister relationship. It’s over and done and my heart aches at the feeling.
“You okay?” Wesley asks me.
Tilting my head backward slightly, I look up into his eyes. Giving him a smile, I suck in a breath before I answer him.
“I’m okay.”
“Liar,” he rasps. “But you will be. I’ll make damn sure of it. Tomorrow, we go house hunting.”
House hunting. “After class?” I ask.
He hums. “After class, buttercup.”
Smiling, I lift my arms and wrap them around his shoulders. He pulls me against his chest, his eyes searching mine. I don’t know how or why I could have fallen for this man in such a short time. I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve lost my brother and likely my best friend, but I’ve gained him. This man. His people, but most importantly, him. Just him.
He reaches down, grabbing ahold of my ass, squeezing it as he lifts me slightly. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I lean forward and touch my mouth to his. “I’m falling for you, Wesley,” I rasp.
“Thank fuck, because I already fell,” he mutters.
He carries me toward the bedroom. There are other people around, but I can’t care what they see or if they even are watching, though I’m sure that they are. These people are all about sex, drugs, and rock and roll, or however that saying goes.
Once we’re in the bedroom, he slams the door closed then my back crashes against the wood of the closed door. His tongue slides inside of my mouth. He tastes me, thoroughly. I let him, because it’s so damn good.
He moans against my lips, consuming me as every second passes by, then he breaks the kiss, his mouth moving down my throat. “Fuck,” he rasps against my flesh. “Fucking hell, I do not deserve you, buttercup. I don’t deserve even a fucking ounce of you.”
Lifting my hands, I cup his cheeks and force him to lift his head from my neck. He’s got his hips pressed against my center, holding me against the door. I look into his eyes, searching them for just a moment before I speak.
“I don’t deserve you, Wesley. I come with enough baggage to fill a truck. I’m pregnant from one night with you. My mother is not stable. She killed my father, and my brother is an asshole.”
His eyes search mine and I don’t know what I expect him to say, but I don’t anticipate him chuckling at my words. He leans forward, touching his mouth to mine in just a brush of the lips before he speaks.
“We all have bullshit, Tanner. Every single one of us. I’m happy to deal with yours, even if it comes with a goddamn cop brother.”
He doesn’t say anything else and neither do I. Instead, one of his hands slides up my shirt and his fingers curl around my breast. Wesley tugs the cup of my bra down and then I feel his fingers.
Ripping my mouth from his, I pull backward, my head slamming against the door with a thud as his lips travel down my neck again. His fingers massage my breast, then he pinches my nipple, and I can’t contain myself, I let out a whimper at the sensation.
I hate the fact that I have pants on right now. I want him inside of me, right this second. “Please,” I exhale. “Wesley, please.”
He lifts his head from my collarbone, his eyes focused on mine as his lips curve up into a grin. “Please what, buttercup?”
Whimpering, I slide my tongue along my bottom lip and open my eyes, my gaze meeting his. “I need more,” I whisper. “So much more.”
He grins, then takes a half a step backward and lets my legs down from his hips. Without even an ounce of hesitation, I unbutton my jeans and shove them down, kicking them away before I sink to my knees in front of him.
Seconds later, I unbutton his jeans and shove his pants and boxer briefs down past his ass. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his length and slowly stroke him as I lean forward and open my mouth, taking him inside of me.
“Fuck,” he rasps as he lifts his hand and slams his palm against the door with a loud thud.
His other hand lifts, his fingers sliding through the strands at the side of my hair, and he grips me there, his fingers tight as he holds my head still. He’s going to fuck my mouth and I’m going to let him… happily.
