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“Fine, I’ll go,” he says, moving around me toward the door. The hinges creak as he pulls it open and I panic. I have to say something. Without turning around, words spill from my mouth. “I washurting, Wes. You knew something was wrong and you left. Youleft.” My voice wavers as the door slams shut.But is he in or out?“I saw it written all over your face,” I continue. “You evenasked meif something had happened.” Silence surrounds me but I don’t stop, hoping like hell that I’m not talking to an empty room but too nervous to turn around and find out. “You were right. I’d just had some news and I was dealing with it. Or at least, trying to deal with it. I shouldn’t have lied to you, Wes. But I cared about you. A lot. And if you’d bothered to check in with me, I would have eventually told you everything. We both fucked up. Don’t make working here hell just because of our past.” When the last word leaves my mouth, I chance a look over my shoulder and see he’s still standing there facing the door. One hand rests on the handle, his back hunched over as his other hand clenches by his side.
“Wes—”
“Fuck it!”
He snaps out of whatever moment he was locked in and turns around, abruptly storming toward me. He looks positively mad with his eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a frown, so I take a few steps back until my legs hit his desk. “Fuck, Wes. I’m—”
He grabs my face in his hands and slams his lips to mine. It’s not the reaction I was expecting, nor should it be, but I can’t for the life of me stop myself from kissing him back.
Gripping his shirt, I pull him into me, leaning back against the rich mahogany as Wes groans before running his tongue along the seam of my lips, begging for entry. Entry I grant him easily, needing him just as much.
When our tongues touch, a spark runs through me, straight to my core, and I have to fight to stop myself from grinding against him. Especially when his hardness presses into me. But I can’t stop my moans. It’s been too long since I’ve been touched like this; I can’t control it.
With another groan, Wes runs one of his hands along my neck and into my hair, clenching the strands in his fist as he angles my head to deepen the kiss. A strangled squeal escapes my mouth, and I buck into him involuntarily, causing us both to cry out. When Wes rips his mouth from mine, I’m certain I’ve just broken the Lucy trance he was in, until he grabs my waist and lifts me up, setting me on the desk. My legs fall apart instinctively and my dress rises up to reveal mysoakedsatin panties. Wes’s eyes darken, and he bites his lip as he stares between my legs, fixated on my core.
It’s been a million years since someone looked at me like that—looked at me at all—and the last person to do it is standing right in front of me, making me melt.
He blinks a few times before stepping closer and taking my lips in another bruising kiss. He leans into me until I have no choice but to rest back on my palms and wrap my legs around him, wanting him as close as physically possible.
We kiss like that for a while, our tongues exploring, our bodies subtly moving in rhythm until I’m a writhing mess.I can’t take it anymore. Sucking Wes’s lip into my mouth, just like I did all those years ago, I internally cheer at the effect I have on him. He grunts as though he’s in pain and grips my thighs, pressing his fingers into my skin before sliding me to the edge of the desk and sinking down on top of me. I don’t even wait for him to start moving before I grind up into him, seeking the friction I so desperately need, moaning when Wes grunts again.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that before Wes repositions us slightly, allowing room for his hand to roam high up my dress, to the thin strap of my panties. Twisting the elastic in his fingers, he continues to grind into me, as he pulls tightly on the material causing it to rub hard against my core. The pressure and motion cause so much friction that I cry out in ecstasy as my head falls back against the wood. “Fuck, Wes. Yes.”
He groans with his speed increasing until the desk starts to move as he pounds against me. Changing the pace once more, he kisses his way down my chest, nipping gently at my cleavage, making my body flush. My heart rate increases beyond what should be physically possible, and I’m not sure how much more I can take as my legs clench in anticipation. I’m so close to my release, I can feel the tingles shooting through me. I just need a little… “Oh god!”
Wes leans forward, and the rough denim of his jeans rubs me exactly where I want it. “Yes, that. Keep going.”
He bites my bottom lip, and the spark it causes sends me flying over the edge.
I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming just as his office phone rings behind me.
I’ve never seen someone move as quickly as Wes does when he jumps away from our moment, almost ripping my panties as he goes. The elastic snaps back and I flinch, ready to say something until I sit up and see his expression. Suddenly that little sting is the least of my problems.
With both hands in his hair and his face contorted in pain, he squeezes his eyes shut, as though he’s trying to block out the world…or specifically, me.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” he rasps, and it would hurt, if I wasn’t expecting it. “I need to work. You should go.”
He moves toward the phone, but my hand shoots out to stop him. “Wes,” I whisper, my heart skipping when his eyes meet mine and his gaze softens.
“I’m sorry. I lost my mind for a moment. It won’t happen again,” he huskily whispers as he lifts the handset of the phone, finally shutting off the noise.
“This is Wes,” he states plainly, void of emotion, until he hears what the other person has to say.
And that is my cue to leave.
“Again? Fuck! How did that shit get out?”
I leave quietly as Wes yells down the line, and if I’m looking for any positives from that call coming in, then at least I know he’s grumpy at the world; it’s not just me.
I only make it a few steps away from his office when I remember I originally had a purpose for being there and curse. Running my hand through my hair, my fingers get caught in the knots and I panic to think of the state it’s in. The stateI’min. Too bad. He’s the one that caused it, so he can deal.
Wes is still on a call when I enter. He’s got the phone in one hand while the other massages his temple.Ugh! That’s not a good sign.
His eyes shoot up to mine and his brows furrow as I walk toward the desk, grabbing a pen and paper before settling into his chair so I can write a note. He subtly adjusts his jeans as he watches my every move, continuing his conversation. A conversation that suddenly becomes one-sided with Wes dishing out uh-huhs, yeses and nos. I don’t even think he’s paying them any attention.
When I’ve finished listing the players we need to discuss, I put everything back in its place, pushing the chair under his desk. And without a backward glance, I leave the room, not even giving him the satisfaction of waving goodbye.
I, however, get a lot of satisfaction from feeling his gaze follow me out.
