The shock of it all, big, strong, hot, Weston loved me. He loved me. Months and months of hiding I had some weird crush on him fueled by frustration and anger. Sometime during my perusal, the bed had stopped moving and my eyes went back to Weston’s face.
“Good morning,” I whispered.
“Indeed. Shower.”
I wasn’t ready to get up but had no choice when Weston rolled off the bed, reached back in, and yanked me to my feet.
“Bossy,” I mumbled as he guided us to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later I was standing under the warm spray, Weston’s soapy hands roaming my body. From top to toe he gently washed me. He shampooed my hair, ran conditioner through it, and rinsed it. Never had anyone taken care of me, the way he was.
“You feeling okay?” Weston asked, turning me so we were face-to-face, his hands on my hips, mine went to his shoulders.
“Better than okay,” I answered but my concentration was on the bruise my teeth had left on the skin above his collarbone.
“I meant here.” Weston’s hand went to my booty and tapped my cheek. If it was possible to burst into flames I would’ve.
“I marked you.” I felt my face heat further.
“Wild,” he muttered.
“Did I hurt you?”
“It would suck, baby, if you weren’t into as much as I was. You letting go, with my finger in your ass, sinking your teeth into my skin, was hot as fuck. So, no, you didn’t hurt me. But you didn’t answer my question. You okay with what I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that a yeah because you know it pleased me, or is it a yeah because it felt good?”
“Because it felt good,” I whispered.
Weston hauled me closer, our fronts touching, his thick erection trapped between us, resting on my stomach.
“I was serious about taking you there. I want that, Silver, but I want you to want it just as bad.”
Until that moment I wasn’t sure if it was possible for me to want it as bad as Weston did, but when his dick jerked between us I couldn’t deny my pussy trembled thinking about his reaction.
“Have you ever—?” I started.
“No. Never had the desire.”
“Me either,” I told him.
I liked the thought of Weston and me sharing something that neither of us had done. A first for both of us. I knew he’d make it good, and I wanted to try it.
“I want it just as bad.”
His mouth crashed onto mine, his tongue plunged in, and by the time he was done taking what he wanted it was a good thing I was getting a bath because the area between my legs was drenched.
25
Silver was quiet and Weston knew why.
She was no longer anxious about meeting his parents even though they were in the SUV after checking out of the hotel and on their way.
It was because it had taken Weston very little time to track the fugitive, but the man had decided to put up a fight. A fight that included using a gun. Luckily for Weston, the other man was a high paid executive who wore a suit to work—that was, before the man lost his job for embezzling money—and had no knowledge of how to actually aim the gun he’d pointed at Weston.
The man fired one shot before Weston tackled him. The unfortunate part was Weston now had a bullet graze to his hip. The low caliber weapon barely kissed his skin, leaving only an abrasion that did not require stitches and looked more like a burn. Which was exactly what it was.
But Silver was tweaked.
He knew it not because she’d freaked out when he’d gotten back to the hotel, taken off his clothes to take a shower, and she saw the injury. No, it was because she’d grown quiet.
“You know I’m okay, right? It doesn’t even hurt.”
“I know,” she mumbled, staring at the passenger window.
“Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at me.”
He felt her gaze on him and glanced in her direction before his eyes went back to the road. This was not the ideal time or place, while he was driving and couldn’t give her his full attention, but it also couldn’t wait. And not because they’d be to his parents’ house in ten minutes. Silver had started to revert back to the closed-off woman he’d first met and there was zero chance Weston was going to allow it.
“Drop the mask and tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not thinking about anything.”
“Bullshit.”
“What do you mean, bullshit? You’re not in my head. You don’t know what I’m thinking about.”
Here we go.
“You’re hiding, Silver. The mask is firmly in place. Drop it and tell me what’s got you freaked out.”
“You know, it’s supremely annoying when you say shit like that. I’m not hiding. There was nothing wrong. Now there is because you’re acting like an ass.”
Stubborn.
“Drop the fucking mask, Silver,” he barked.
Weston felt the air in the cab crackle and he did not need to look at her to know she was pissed.
“I’m scared,” she blurted out.
Relief washed over him. He was getting somewhere.
“What are you scared of?”
“Of you.”
What the fuck? Weston’s relief was short-lived, his gut twisted and his chest hurt.
“Baby.” He softened his tone, no longer annoyed now but extremely concerned he’d done or said something that would frighten her. “I’d never hurt you.”
“Your job is dangerous.”
“Sometimes.”
“Not sometimes, all of the time, Weston. It’s always dangerous.”
He was confused. Silver had had a front-row seat to everything his job detailed the day he’d rescued her from the Dora B. And before that, she’d sat through briefings where the dangers of the operation had been laid out for her, all of the reasons he’d recommended her being sidelined. It was no secret what Weston did for a living and it had never seemed to bother her. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t batted an eye when they’d discussed the deaths of three drug dealers who’d held her captive.
“Where’s this coming from? None of this is new.”
Weston waited. Knowing they were running out of time, he pulled into the next gas station and parked, needing to get this straight before they showed at his parents’ place.
“Silver?”
Her head snapped toward him, eyes squinted, anger clear.
“Why can’t you leave this alone? Why do you always have to push? I don’t want to talk about this right now. Just let it be.”
“I wouldn’t have to push if you’d stop fuckin’ hiding and start being honest with me. When shit’s eating at you, we talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
Her arms crossed over her chest and she set her eyes toward the windshield and huffed.
Jesus Christ, the woman drove him crazy when she was being hard-headed.
“I take it you didn’t learn a damn thing about keeping shit bottled up. So I’ll remind you, Silver, you lock it down, it festers. And when it finally makes its way out, it’s too late. It's eaten a hole inside you. That’s not a place I’ll allow us to go. Straight up, shit’s bothering you, we talk. Whether you want to or not, I’ll dig and I’ll dig until your stubborn ass caves.”
“So it doesn’t matter what I want? It’s Weston’s way or no way?”
“With this? Yes. Because my way means you get pissed, you burn hot, then we work it out. Your way means you sweep it under the rug, it burns for a long fucking time, making you miserable and making my job a fuckuva lot harder when you finally break and tell me what’s wrong. And, sweetheart, we haven’t scratched the surface of fixing all the poison your bitch of a mother left inside of you and now I see we got some work to do in regard to your dad. What we do not need is you having issues with my job. Which leads to you telling me you’re fucking scared of me.”
“So you think of me as what, a project? Poor broken S
ilver, trying to piece her back together.”
“What the fuck?”
Weston’s insides were boiling. Never had he insinuated or even hinted he thought she was broken.
“That’s what it feels like. Perfect Weston riding in to save the day.”
“That’s fuckin’ jacked and you know it. Take a minute, check the attitude, stop being a bitch, and remember who you’re sitting next to.”
Silver’s door flew open and she jumped out. Fuck. It took Weston two seconds before he was out of the SUV and making his way to her side. It took another ten seconds to have her back pressed against the passenger door, her eyes on his, and shock clear on her face.
“Step back,” she demanded.
“No fucking way. You had space when we were sitting in the truck. You jumped out, now you get none. Tell me what the hell had your head so fucked-up you’re spewing venom.”
“You called me a bitch.”
“I did.”
“That’s not cool.”
“You’re right it’s not. And I’ll apologize for it after you tell me what the fuck is going on inside your head.”
“I can’t do this.”
Weston reared back, Silver’s verbal strike hitting center mass, causing a painful explosion in his chest.
“Come again?”
“I can’t do this. I wasn’t thinking. I was so caught up in you, I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
His hands itched to reach out and shake the words out of her. However, the anguish her words caused rooted him in place, too afraid to move. There was no way he’d been wrong. Not about any of it. He’d known Silver loved him before she’d said it. He’d felt it, the knowledge had settled deep in his soul, and he wasn’t going to let this take it away. It didn’t matter how fucking stubborn she was, he would fight her, fight for her, until she broke.
“Forgot about your job. Forgot how dangerous it was. Forgot that you’ll leave me, just like everyone else. Only with you, it’s gonna hurt worse. It’s gonna kill. I can get over my mother leaving me because she never loved me. I get past my dad always wanting to chase some stupid adventure, leaving me behind because he never showed me half of what you have. But when you abandon me, when you leave, it will destroy me. I forget everything when I’m with you.”
Weston was no longer frozen in place, he moved fast and when he did, he yanked Silver to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
There it was, entrenched deep into her soul—when you abandon me.
He’d missed it, the root of everything. He’d been wrong thinking her mother’s constant belittling had left Silver with insecurities. That was only part of the issue, the surface scars.
“Baby, I will not abandon you,” he whispered.
“If something happens to you, you will.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me.”
“It did today. Something happened. You were shot and—”
“I wasn’t shot. It’s a graze and I’m not leaving you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
Silver was trembling. Straight up shaking like she was breaking apart in his arms. He drew in a breath and took a moment to calm down. All the anger had ebbed, leaving him with extreme concern.
“Sweetheart, I cannot predict the future. I can’t promise I won’t be hit by a bus tomorrow. I can’t promise you that my job won’t put me in another situation that’s dangerous. What I can promise you, is I will not ever leave you of my own free will. I will not walk out on you. I will not chase some stupid adventure without you by my side. I will not abandon you. I will not take my love away from you. I swear it, Silver. I swear on my life—you’re stuck with me. Stuck, baby, glued to me, tied so tight that if you stop a minute and think, you’ll remember.”
“I’m scared to lose you.”
Weston’s eyes closed as her painful admission scored his flesh but at the same time made him feel like he was on the top of the world.
“I’m not gonna leave you.”
“But—”
“Never, baby.”
“You can’t—”
“Love you, Silver, down deep to my soul. I fucking love you so hard there’s not one goddamned thing that’s gonna take me from you. Believe in it, baby. Trust me—all you have to do is trust me and I swear I’ll never let you down.”
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Sorry I’m so crazy.”
Sweet fucking relief. She was back, the stubbornness had ebbed. Thank fuck. With his arms wrapped around her, he soaked in her warmth, her love, and her pain. He’d gladly take it all if it meant he had all of her, he’d endure anything.
“You got nothing to be sorry for and you’re not crazy. But we’re standing in a gas station parking lot. You think you’re ready to get back in the car?”
“No. I need to feel you holding me.”
Thank fuck she trusted him. Believed in what they were building and would continue to create. Layering more and more on top of the strong foundation they’d constructed.
His Silver.
His treasure.
26
Okay, so, I’d had another freakout.
This time in the parking lot of a gas station ten minutes from Weston’s parents’ house. Not only was the timing horrible, it was a doozy.
“When will it stop?” I asked with my face still pressed to his chest.
“Don’t know, just know it will.”
God, I loved him. He totally understood.
“I don’t do it on purpose.”
“I know you don’t, baby.”
Of course he knew, Weston seemed to know everything. Which reminded me, I had a huge plate of my favorite dish to eat.
“I said some pretty shitty stuff, I’m sorry. It was totally uncool and you were right, if I would’ve calmed down, we could’ve talked about it without getting ugly.”
Weston’s hand moved up my back, over my shoulder, then tipped my chin up.
I would never get used to the way he looked at me. Each time it was a gift, each time told me something different. He hid nothing from me. He never withheld his concern, his love, his passion, his need, not anything. His honesty was the one thing that held me together. In some ways, it meant more to me than knowing he loved me and he’d protect me.
“Shouldn’t have called you a bitch, told you I’d apologize for that, and I am sorry. But, I am not sorry I pushed you. I know we’re gonna battle it out, I know there are times it’s gonna get dirty, we might have to roll around in the mud a time or two. And I don’t give a shit as long as when we stand back up, we do it like we are now. With you in my arms and us making progress.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine and I was grateful he did. It took the sting out of what he said next. “Something you said that sliced deep was that I thought of you as a project. I know you were upset, you were hurting, and you were scared, but I need to know right now if that’s how you really feel.”
Tears started to sting my eyes. I’d hurt him—really hurt him. He showed me that, too. Didn’t hide that my careless, bitchy words had cut him.
“I’m sorry, Weston. I didn’t mean that. I was thoughtless and bitchy, and I promise I’ll try to never do it again.”
His hands moved to cup my cheeks, his thumbs brushing the tears away as they fell. Through all of that, his eyes never left mine. He was studying me, reading the veracity of my statement. I didn’t move—I owed him this time.
“Good, baby, let’s get back on the road before my mom sends out a search party.” I flinched at his statement and Weston’s head tilted. “Silver—”
“I’m not gonna freak out. I just feel bad we’re late. Not the first impression I wanted to make.”
“I was joking. Mom and Dad understand my job is unpredictable. I didn’t tell them an exact time.”
I nodded because that was a good thing. Weston hadn’t planned on the detour to the florist, nor had he budgeted time for a second stop to the liquor store. And he certainly hadn’t taken
into consideration at both stops I’d pitch a fit when he refused to allow me to pay for his mother’s flowers or the bottle of his father’s favorite bourbon.
I’d given in both times, if him pushing my hand away and thrusting his card at the cashier was considered giving in. After the bourbon debacle, I would’ve let him have it and was fully prepared to demand he stop acting like a macho, alpha asshole, when he calmly explained I was taking an unpaid leave of absence from work. I also had all new household wares and furniture to buy in the near feature and I didn’t need to be wasting a hundred dollars on a bottle of liquor.
That meant I’d spent the next hour thinking about my apartment and what I was going to do with its contents and where I wanted to live instead of thinking about who drank bourbon that costs a hundred dollars a bottle. In that hour I was no closer to figuring out where I wanted to live or how I was going to start my life over—buying everything new—but I did come to the conclusion I couldn’t ever live in that apartment again. Not after someone had been in there, totally violating my privacy and security.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I finally answered.
With a gentle lip touch, Weston pulled away and helped me back into the Suburban. Why I’d jumped out in the first place was a mystery. What, was I going to make a mad dash and run home? So embarrassing.
Weston pulled back onto the highway and immediately my nerves started. I wanted to drill him about his parents, ask if there were any topics I should avoid. I had a hundred questions but I didn’t ask. I figured I’d made myself look crazy enough for one day. Instead, I decided on a safe topic, like my job.
“I only have four days left until I’m back on rotation.” I told him something he knew, considering not only had I used his phone to call my boss, but I’d already talked to him about what was said.
“Yep.”
His clipped reply had my head snapping in his direction. He didn’t sound all that happy about me going back to work, less so now than he had when I first told him.
Weston's Treasure Page 19