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“You are un-fucking-believable, Callie.” With a shake of his head, he turned once more and continued to the bathroom where his hot water had likely turned cold by now.
I moved forward, wild and hurt…unsure why I was pushing this so hard. I should let him get in the shower and live to snoop another day. Instead, I followed him into the bathroom, where his bare ass greeted me.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
From over his shoulder, he glared at me. “You come any closer, and I’m pulling you in here. Clothed, naked, I don’t care, I can fuck that mouth just as easily either way. But rest assured, if you step foot into my bathroom right now, I will fuck you.”
With that he stepped behind the glass door. His eyes closed as he stood under the spray, his hands went to his hair as he washed, all while I stood from the threshold of the bathroom and watched.
I wasn’t sure why I was still there, when I had a clear opportunity to leave. He’d even warned me off, and yet I was caught between exiting and stripping. His threat was an answer— veiled behind a curt tone and derogatory language—but an answer just the same.
Wes was single.
He’d never promise to fuck me otherwise. He wasn’t a cheater. He may have girls he fucks from time to time, but he didn’t have a long-term or serious person in his life at the moment, and there was something about that revelation that pulled a sigh of contentment from my lungs.
Tucking my arms under my elbows, I leaned into the door frame to continue watching his defined torso twist and bend as he washed his body. I was enjoying the show a little too much as that familiar ache began to grow between my legs. Then Wes turned in the shower and locked eyes with me while gripping himself.
My mouth parted, my eyes widened, and my breath stalled as I took in the perfection of him. He was the same but different—more defined, and his muscles had increased, which somehow made him broader, which only amplified his girthy, longer-than-I-remembered cock.
Placing a palm on the glass wall beside the door, Wes watched me as he began stroking himself. His abs contracted as his hips dipped forward, pushing his length into his closed palm. His breath clouded the glass in front of him as he groaned, his eyes still locked on me.
I watched in shock and stupor as my own wetness increased and the urge to relieve the ache with my fingers increased. This was so dangerous. So fucking dangerous.
“Come here, River. Bring that smart mouth over here and let me answer your earlier question.”
His voice echoed around the room, but even with the water, I caught every word.
I was two seconds from taking a step forward.
With a heaving chest, I stayed still while his fist moved at a leisure pace, pumping his orgasm out. He emanated another groan as he watched me.
“You come in here, looking hot as fuck with those shorts and those fucking tits and think I actually care why you’re here? You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this. Now, this is your last warning. If you’re still standing there by the time I finish, I’m going to help you remember why it’s not a good idea to sneak into the club president’s house without permission.”
That was like a bucket of cold water hitting me in the face. Why was I so eternally stupid when it came to this man? He wasn’t Wes. He was the club president, and this wasn’t personal. He’d fuck any piece of willing ass that snuck into his house, because that’s what club presidents did. They had eternal pussy at their disposal, and a reputation to uphold. He wasn’t seeing anyone, but it was obvious that he wasn’t hurting for a warm hole to fill.
“River,” he called, but my eyes were already on the floor.
Why was I watching? Why was I still here?
Shoving off the door frame, I turned on my heel to leave. My feet pushed into the carpet as I heard him curse from the bathroom behind me. The water turned off, and I didn’t hear the rest because I was already taking the stairs.
He was soaking wet and naked as he reached the banister, and peered over it to stare down at me.
“Callie.”
I kept moving until I was at his door, and without giving another glance over my shoulder, I slipped outside. As soon as I tugged on the door, I heard his feet slapping against the hardwood. His muttered curse reverberated in my ears as I slammed his door shut and darted around the side of the house, grabbing my shoes from the gas meter.
I hated that I cared.
I hated myself for thinking he’d be different when he was exactly like them.
Which was why I knew I could never stay with him while he had the club. I was glad I left. I knew he’d never be any different once this life lured him in.
Wes had made his choice, and I needed to get a fucking grip.
TWELVE
WES
