Weston’s hand went to the hat I was wearing. He pulled it off my head and tossed it behind me. Perfect. Great. Splendid. Now I was standing in front of the sexiest man alive with wild Jeep hair combined with hat head. What else could go wrong? I probably had bad crab breath and lettuce stuck in my teeth. I wanted to slink away, run and hide. But I’d missed my chance. Weston was so close I could feel his body heat rolling off of him even through the thick material of the hoodie I was wearing. Which got me thinking about the sweat I could feel running between my boobs. Another mortifying thought.
“Glad you understand that.” Weston’s gravelly voice pinned me in place.
“Understand what?”
“That I’m dangerous. That I will step between you and anyone who means you harm. I will protect you with my life. But the one thing you never have to worry about is me hurting you. Not mentally, not physically, not emotionally. I wouldn’t be standing here with you if I wasn’t sure this was where I wanted to be. Don’t have a magic eight-ball so I can’t predict the future. I can’t promise you a white dress and picket fence. But I can promise you I’m not looking for a quick fuck. I don’t have time for games and you don’t deserve them, so straight out, while we’re figuring out what’s going on with the case, I wanna explore what this is between us. And I mean both emotionally and physically.”
Maybe I was dead. Was it possible to be killed, then go into a dreamlike state and spend the day with a man you didn’t much like at first, but it turns out he’s a really great guy who’s simply reacting to your bitchy attitude? Then after said day, go home with him, whereupon he sets out to rock your world, say a bunch of really nice things, then tell you he wants to explore you physically?
No? That was an impossibility? Then that meant I was alive but I had to be imagining what Weston had said. No way would a man like him be interested in a plain-Jane woman like me.
Not a chance in hell. I was a nobody, a loser like my father, unsocialized, a freak, I had nothing to offer and the one thing my mother had pounded into my head was, if you had nothing to offer you were worthless. Therefore, I was as worthless as she always said I’d be.
“Silver?”
My gaze moved from the spot on his t-shirt up to his face and it hurt so damn bad to look at him.
“That’s not possible,” I told him.
“Which part, babe?”
“Everything. All of it. I’m not worth your time.”
“What the fuck?” His growl was low and menacing.
“What I mean is, I have nothing to offer a man like you.”
Weston’s face turned to granite. Hard and unrelenting. Maybe he was realizing he’d been wrong about me. There was nothing to explore.
“Again. What. The. Fuck. What does that mean, nothing to offer a man like me? What kind of man do you think I am?”
“A good one,” I blurted out. “You deserve better than me. I have nothing. I don’t even know how to act around people because I grew up alone on a boat. Growing up, my friends were older treasure hunters and drifters. I don’t know anything about family or true friendship. I’m a loner, it’s who I am and I know it. I’m toxic and I don’t want that to leak onto you. I’ve always known I’d be worthless—”
“Shut up,” he growled and my spine shot straight.
“Don’t tell me to shut up.”
“Fuckin’ hell, woman, I’ve heard some fucked-up shit in my life, seen even more. But never have I heard a good woman beat up on herself the way you just did. I’m guessing by our earlier conversation, it was your mother who put that venom in your head.”
“It’s not—”
“Sweetheart, what you just spewed was rancid. Pure poison. And the fuck of it is, I know you believe it. And that shit is so jacked it ain’t funny. So, new plan, while we’re exploring what’s between us, I’m gonna unravel that for you. I’m gonna make you see it for the lie it is. And just to warn you, it’s gonna be painful. Once you see what I see, you’re gonna know you’ve been living a lie.”
Oh, no. No, no, no. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want Weston getting that close. I didn’t want to face the truth of who I was.
“That sounds painful. I don’t think I want that.”
“It will be. And I bet you don’t. But it’s happening all the same. I will not have a relationship where you hide behind a mask of stubbornness and pretend to be a character in someone else’s fucked-up story. You are not what your mother said you were, and you certainly didn’t become what she told you you would.”
“I have nothing to give—”
“Kiss me,” he ordered and I jerked back.
“What?”
“You heard me. Kiss me, Silver.”
Hell no. That would hurt worse than talking about my mother. Getting a taste of something only to have it ripped from my reach. No way.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to. Unless of course I misread how you were looking at me earlier.”
Jesus, was there anything I could hide? Seriously, this was getting worse by the second.
“I wasn’t—”
“Babe, you were looking at me like you wanted to fuck me right here in the kitchen. And if you deny it, you’re lying. There was no missing the hunger in your eyes, which if you were paying attention, mirror my own. So please, for Christ sakes, fuckin’ kiss me already.”
One second I was trying to come up with a rebuttal and the next I was attacking him.
There was no other way to describe it. I’d literally launched myself into his arms, slammed my mouth on his, and didn’t wait for an invitation before I pushed my tongue between his lips. And then there he was, one hand dove into my hair, the other clamped onto my ass and he hauled me closer. All the while our tongues clashed and dueled. It was not a soft and sweet kiss, it wasn’t a first kiss, it was a battle of wills. Me proving to him I wasn’t what he wanted and him proving I was.
There was no stopping the mew of protest when he pulled his mouth from mine. Then without warning my sweatshirt was up over my head and my t-shirt got tangled in the mess of material, so that went, too. Both his hands went under my pits and he lifted me to the counter. I was in a haze of disbelief and amazement.
On instinct—because there were no coherent thoughts, not when Weston was touching me. Not when he looked at me. And certainly not when I kissed him—my legs went around his waist and I locked my ankles, bringing his hips closer, his dick closer, and his mouth closer.
“Mouth,” he demanded, and I instantly complied.
This time when I kissed Weston, my hands weren’t lamely at my sides, they roamed. I touched and clawed everywhere I could reach. I couldn’t get enough of his taste, the faint smell of soap, the way his hard body fitted against mine. And in a moment of clarity I wondered what the hell I was doing—why hadn’t I removed his shirt so I could feel his bare skin?
I was still contemplating my dilemma when Weston pressed his hips tighter to my core and excitement shot through me. There were layers of clothes separating us, but his hard-on couldn’t be missed. It was there, right there, rubbing against my clit and the feel of it was so good I couldn’t stop myself from taking more. I moved my hips, needing more friction, needing him closer, needing the orgasm that was building.
“Christ,” Weston growled, and shoved his face into my neck. Not giving me a chance to mourn the loss of his tongue tangling with mine, he started licking and nibbling on my neck and that felt really good, too.
Weston’s hands went to my ass and pulled me closer to the edge of the counter, my legs spreading wider, and I rubbed myself harder. That felt even better.
“I cannot wait to get you in my bed. Naked. Laid out before me so I can see every part of you,” he said against my skin. His hand traveled up my back. He unhooked my bra and used his chin to push the loose material of one of the cups away. “Cannot wait to taste you.”
His mouth latched on to my nipple, and like everything else Weston did it wasn’t gentle, it was rough
and demanding and oh-so-good. My hips bucked and a moan tore from my throat.
So close.
“Don’t stop,” I begged.
“Not stopping, babe.”
He moved to the other side but this time before he sucked my sensitive nipple into his mouth he bit down. The pain felt erotic, illicit, and shot straight to my pussy. I’d never felt anything like it, and as my insides clenched and my clit hummed I wanted him to fill me up so bad I was ready to beg. Ready to rip my pants off and take him right there in the kitchen.
More. I needed more.
9
“More,” Silver demanded.
Good Christ, the kiss had not gone to plan. Weston had meant to prove a point, however, the second Silver’s lips had touched his, he couldn’t for the life of him remember what that point was. Then she went wild and let loose and he lost all control. Everything about Silver felt right. Her tongue in his mouth, her body pressed against him, her legs wrapped around his hips, and most especially her pussy grinding on his cock in her quest to get off.
Jesus fuck, but she felt good. Never had a woman ignited for him so quickly. Never had a kiss turned him on so much. He hadn’t meant to allow it to go this far, but now that Weston had tasted her pretty pink nipples, had seen the way they pebbled before his mouth had even touched them, he was all in and nothing would stop him until she was moaning her orgasm.
The hell of it was, he might be joining her. The hell part was because he was going to shoot off in his pants like an untried virgin. Just knowing her pussy was wet and she was close to coming was enough to make his balls tingle and his cock throb.
Silver’s back arched and her heels dug into Weston’s lower back. Both actions made him grind into her harder. He fisted her hair, forcing her head back so he could have a go at her neck.
“Babe,” he mumbled against the base of Silver’s throat, and loved the way she shook in his arms. “Get yourself there.”
“Can’t,” she panted.
The thick layers of material between them made it impossible for Weston to touch her the way he wanted.
“What do you need, honey?” he asked as he nibbled his way down her chest. Goddamn, she had great tits. Not too big, not too small, perfect handfuls. Firm, perky, and the best fucking nipples he’d ever seen.
“I don’t know,” she complained. Frustration and need laced her tone.
Weston knew exactly what she needed, he was just afraid he’d lose the last thread of his control if he gave it to her. He bypassed her gorgeous tits—going lower he licked a path down to her belly button and Silver’s legs unlocked and fell open, giving him much-needed room.
He didn’t ask when he unbuttoned her jeans, but his head did come up and when their eyes locked he was pleased to find she was on board with his new plan. Silver’s hand left his hair so she could lift her ass off the counter as Weston tugged her jeans over her hips and down her legs.
So much hunger and need shone from her hazel eyes it nearly took Weston to his knees. But in the end, it was the plea that did it.
“Please,” she begged, and his gaze left her face, traveled down the length of her body, his cock now in a constant state of pulsing, something he’d never in his life felt. He zeroed in on her pussy.
Fuck, she’s hot.
“Open your legs for me.” Silver didn’t delay complying with his demand and Weston wasted no time stepping between them.
His hand went between her legs, and he was wrong—she wasn’t hot, she was scorching. And so fucking wet with arousal she was dripping.
“Kiss me.” The words no sooner left his mouth then Silver’s was straining to follow his order. Their mouths crashed together and their tongues met, and he remembered something he’d forgotten. It was surprising he hadn’t remembered, then again with his head full of the sight of her wetness, maybe not. But right then, with Silver’s tongue gliding against his, he remembered—the woman could kiss. Weston had no idea how one moment she’d follow his lead, and then flawlessly she’d take over and take him where she wanted. She took everything she wanted and the results were spectacular. Without delay he teased her pussy, working two fingers inside of her.
He kept a perfect rhythm. Every time her tongue spiked out to brush his, he pushed in farther until she was bucking and groaning and her pussy was pulsing around his fingers.
“More?” he asked, breaking the kiss.
“God, yes,” she panted.
Weston added his thumb to her clit and gave her more.
“Wes—” she started to moan but the rest of his name died on her lips as she shuddered and her pussy clamped down.
Silver’s orgasm tore through her and Weston felt it, heard it, and couldn’t tear his eyes off her. Not for anything. Nothing could’ve made him stop watching. If it was possible, Silver looked even more beautiful, her eyes were glassy and unfocused, her face slack, her lips parted as she whimpered. Brilliant—all of it. He waited for her pussy to relax before he pulled his fingers free and finally tasted them.
“Taste good?” she whispered.
Her dirty question shot straight to his cock, it had been by sheer force of will he didn’t come. No, it had been a miracle and he knew it wouldn’t take but a touch for him to go off.
“Fuck yeah,” he answered, and lowered his mouth to hers, licking her bottom lip so she could share in the goodness.
“I think I should be embarrassed,” she said against his lips and Weston stiffened. “But I’m not.”
Thank fuck, because she had not one thing to be embarrassed about. The woman was crazy-sexy. Wild, unafraid, she lost all inhibitions and damn if that wasn’t hot.
Weston pulled her closer, his hands going to her ass, and he lifted her off the counter. Silver’s legs went around his waist and her arms around his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked as he started to move through the kitchen.
“Taking you upstairs.”
“I can walk.”
“No doubt.”
He continued through the living room and made it to the stairs before she spoke again.
“Then why aren’t you letting me?”
“Don’t want to.”
He had no idea why he was carrying her other than he wanted her in his arms. Something he’d never felt with any other woman he’d been with. Never had he desired to carry a woman anywhere. And the hell of it was, he wasn’t even carrying her to his bed to fuck her. He just wanted to feel her wrapped around him. He wanted to take care of her after the shit day she’d had.
Maybe he’d taken it too far in the kitchen, but Weston couldn’t summon up remorse. There was no guilt that he’d allowed things to go as far as they had. The only thing he felt was satisfaction.
“Um. We need to bleach the countertop.” It took a moment for her statement to register and when it did Weston’s body shook with humor. “I mean, that’s kinda gross.”
Weston lost the battle and silent hilarity turned into an audible chuckle.
“Nothing gross about you coming around my fingers, babe.”
“It is when you gave me that orgasm on the kitchen counter where people cook. Not sure there’s enough bleach in the world to disinfect the area. We may need to use Lysol, too.”
It was a good thing Weston had made it into his room and to the side of his bed before he busted a gut and dropped her from laughing so hard.
Silver bounced as she hit the bed and suddenly Weston didn’t find a damn thing funny. The only clothing Silver had left was her bra loosely hanging from her forearms. The scrap of lace resting across her stomach made all kinds of illicit memories flit through his mind.
“Weston?” she called out.
“Yeah?” His eyes didn’t move from the perfectly trimmed triangle of hair between her legs. Even though he’d felt it, knew her pussy lips were devoid of any hair, seeing the pink, glistening flesh had him enthralled. It was as gorgeous as the rest of her.
“You’re making me nervous staring at me like tha
t.”
“Like what? Like I want to lick you clean, taste your excitement as it leaks from your pussy instead of off my fingers?”
“Yeah, like that,” she confirmed.
Weston’s gaze went to hers and he didn’t see nervousness or even embarrassment. He saw hunger that matched his own. “Goddamn, you’re sexy. Every part of you.”
Pink hit her cheeks and he really wished he could join her in bed, but she was right, he needed to get back downstairs and clean up the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was his teammates to come home and find her clothes on the floor. Not that he gave two shits what Holden or Chasin would think, but Silver would. And he’d never allow her to be embarrassed. His teammates wouldn’t judge, they’d never even bring it up to her if they found her discarded clothes, but she didn’t know that.
“Bathroom’s through there.” Weston pointed. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” Silver’s brow raised in question and he continued. “Gonna grab your clothes, sweetheart.”
She smiled and nodded and Weston’s chest started to feel funny when she made no move to cover herself, no sign of trepidation, no shyness or regret. Silver simply laid in his bed smiling up at him, like she trusted him. Like she didn’t have a shit day, like she hadn’t been taken and chained up, like they hadn’t been at each other’s throats since the day they’d met.
He didn’t understand it but wasn’t going to question it. Without leaning over her to kiss her the way he wanted to, knowing if he started something he’d never make it back downstairs, he turned to leave and was at the top of the stairs when Silver yelled.
“Don’t forget the bleach!”
With a smile, Weston descended the steps. He was still smiling when he bleached the counter, and wiped the cabinet door below where she was sitting—just in case—the smile didn’t leave his face until he collected her clothes off the floor and heard the front door open.
Weston's Treasure Page 6