by Danah Logan
Oh, God.
My eyes roll back inside my head as my legs begin to tremble. I can't stop the moan building inside of me. Need. More. He chuckles, and the cool air of his exhale is too much. A tingling sensation spreads through my belly, all the way down to my toes. I don't want to come yet. At the same time, I don't want him to stop. I've never experienced such a sensual overload, and I know it can only get better from here.
"D-Don't make me come," I beg.
Wes removes his talented mouth far enough to peer up at me. His lids are hooded, and glancing down his body, his own desire is visible by the bulge in his unfastened pants.
"Oh, but, Princess…" He smirks and licks the entire length of my pussy. "Who says you're done after this?"
"Fuck," I whimper, and his devilish grin tells me that I will be ruined for any other guy after tonight. Not that I want anyone else.
His lips are back on me, and as he slips not just one but two fingers inside at once, I cry out. "Oh, shit. Yes!" The sounds coming from me are a surprise to my own ears.
Wes starts pumping in and out, and my toes curl as the orgasm builds. My hips buck, which results in him using his free hand to drape it over my lower abdomen, holding me in place.
"Let go," he orders at the same time as he adds a third finger to it.
"Ahhh…fuuuuck!" My body follows his command, and fireworks explode behind my closed eyelids. I arch my back, and he removes his arm, sliding a hand under my shirt to squeeze my breast.
I ride out my orgasm, all while he continues the assault with his mouth and fingers. When the wave of pleasure begins to subside, he slows as well, and I'm boneless.
"Holy hell... That was—" I try to catch my breath.
"My turn."
My arm was draped over my face, which is how I missed that Wes had removed all his clothes. I gape at him as I take in his body. There is not one gram of fat on him. He is…perfect. I let my gaze drift lower until it reaches his… My mouth waters, and I lick my lips.
"Off," Wes growls as he reaches for my shirt. I force my spent body to sit up, and he pulls the material off me. As soon as my head is through the opening, I wrap my fingers around his cock. I watch him through my lashes, and he sucks in air between his teeth as I tighten my grip, stroking up and down his length.
I lean closer, letting my tongue dart out, and lick the precum off his tip.
"Fuck, Princess." His hands fist my ponytail. He guides me until I have to take him into my mouth, and—holy hell—I take him in until he hits the back of my throat. I fight against the gag reflex, but before I can do anything else, Wes withdraws and pushes me down to the couch. His mouth comes down on me once more, and I instantly open up for him—mouth and legs. He settles between my thighs as his tongue tangles with mine. He glides his lips in a featherlight caress along my jaw until he reaches my ear, his fast exhales making goose bumps erupt on my skin. "I need to be inside of you." His voice is almost desperate, and I cross my ankles behind his ass, guiding him forward.
I turn my head so I can meet his heated gaze. "Then fuck me already, Sheats."
His eyes flare before they narrow, and a devilish grin turns the corners of his mouth upward. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that."
My retort is swallowed with his mouth on mine, and his hips thrust forward until he's fully sheathed inside of me.
I cry out at the sudden fullness, and a guttural groan comes from the guy on top of me.
"Fuck, you feel so good." He nips at my neck. My hands glide down his spine, my nails leaving marks on his skin. This man brings out a side of me I never knew I had, even with my history at The Pole. The connection between us is one of a kind, and I trust him with my body and soul. He would never hurt me—not in a way I wouldn't want him to. My teeth sink into his shoulder, and Wes grasps for my butt with both of his hands, squeezing hard, while driving his dick in and out.
I moan as he thrusts forward, filling me up, then withdrawing and repeating the motion. All I can do is hold on for the ride. And holy shit, what a ride it is. I had imagined sex with Wes so many times, but nothing prepared me for this. I'm on fire, my heart hammering in my chest, while I try to suck in the air my lungs so desperately demand to keep up with my panting. A sheen of sweat forms on his back, and I'm about to combust if I don't come soon.
"Harder," I breathe.
Wes increases his speed, and he thickens inside of me. He's as close as I am. He grunts, and his teeth find the flesh above my collarbone.
The climax hits like a wave, and I can't suppress my screams. My pussy clenches around his cock as he fills me up, and Wes's fingers dig into my ass as he drives into me one last time. My body jerks as I come down from the high, and he slumps on top of me, shuddering every few seconds.
"King-sley Mon-roe, you—" He sucks in more air.
"I what?" I giggle, loosening my grip on him and begin trailing the tips of my fingers up and down his spine.
He shivers, then sighs. "I forgot." Which makes me laugh more.
Propping himself on his elbows, our eyes meet.
He hovers above me, less than an inch of space between us. His lids close, and he whispers, "What are you doing to me?"
Our noses touch, and I let my lips feather over his. "The same thing you are doing to me."
He rests his head on my chest, and we stay like this until exhaustion pulls me to the brink of sleep. "We should probably get out of here," I murmur.
"Mhmm." He is as drowsy as I feel. Slowly, he pushes himself up, sitting on his haunches in front of the couch. Wes scans my body with such intensity that heat flares in my core once more—until he lands on a spot between my legs. He pales. "Shit."
"What?" I jackknife up, scanning my body for injuries of any kind. Then, I notice the sticky spot between my legs and understand. We didn't use a condom. Shit indeed.
My eyes fly to his, and he blurts out, "I'm clean, I swear. This, uh…" He won't look at me. "This is the first time this has ever happened."
I touch my finger to his chin and turn him to me. "I trust you. And I'm on birth control." I leave it at that. Nothing like ruining the best night I have had in years by telling him that I started taking the pill at sixteen out of fear of getting raped at my stripper job.
"You sure?" He studies me with a crease between his brows.
"Stop worrying. No harm done." I follow with a slow and gentle kiss.
He leans in, and we fall back onto the couch, his hands wandering from my hips to my breasts, and his thumb swipes over my hardening nipple.
"Wes?" I try to push against his chest, but he outweighs me by eighty-some pounds. Or more.
He trails kisses along my neck, and I feel him hardening against my core once more.
"Never mind," I breathe out, grip his ass, and force him forward.
We did it two more times that night, and I didn't get out of The Grizz until close to five that morning. The second and third times were nothing like the first. They were slow and tender. The complete opposite, yet just as mind blowing. Never in a million years would I've expected sex to be like this. The few times I'd had it was to scratch an itch, nothing more. There were no feelings involved. With Wes, I'm on constant emotional overload. I almost blurted out the L-word that night, but thankfully stopped myself in time. Our relationship—if you can call it that—is on fragile ice at best. I called him my boyfriend when I was proving my point the other day. He said I was his girlfriend, but how can that be if everything we have is built on lies? Lies I choose to ignore with every passing day. I don't remember ever being this…happy? Does that make me selfish? Yes. Do I need to tell him eventually? Also, yes. But every time I promise myself today is the day I'll come clean, I chicken out as soon as I see him.
Wes has two away games in a row. Of course, I knew before he mentioned them to me—previous WS-stalker and all. I had memorized the team's schedule weeks ago when Wes was still a daydream. What sucked the most was he asked me to come, and I had to decline because
of work.
For the first game, Mags took time off. She was joining Chelsea, who wanted to support Mack, on the road. There was no way Mags was going to let her little sister drive by herself, not with the chance of snow. It was a two-hour drive, and the roads through the mountains were awful, especially at night and without spiked tires. I didn't bother asking Grizz. Instead, I promised Wes I'd request the following Friday off work and join Kiwi that weekend.
It's Tuesday, and everyone is hanging out at The Grizz during my shift to celebrate Kiwi landing a new client. He and his business partner recently sold several pieces to the Mountain Club, a private community where the rich (and famous) settle in the area. It is überexclusive, and you can't even drive up to the properties without an invitation that puts you on "the list." I am so proud of him.
The bar is ridiculously packed, and I haven't had a chance to say hi to my friends—or boyfriend.
Boyfriend. The concept is surreal to me.
After an hour of pressing my thighs together and almost peeing my pants, I finally get to rush to the bathroom. One more minute, and I would've embarrassed myself. I'm speed walking out of the employee lounge, not wanting Leigh to be on her own for too long, when two arms grab me from behind.
I don't scream. Instinct takes over, and I elbow the assailant in the side. The hold loosens, and I spin around, ready to execute my next move, when Wes comes into view. His mouth is in a grimace, and he's hunched over. Oh, crap.
"Shit, I'm so sorry, baby." I place my hands on either side of his face, scanning his features. "What's wrong?" I didn't hit him that hard.
"I'm fine," he mumbles, but squeezes his eyes shut.
Fine, my ass.
I tighten my hold and force him to look at me. "What's wrong?" I sound harsher than necessary, but the knot in my stomach from seeing him in pain doesn't allow for patience.
"Mack tackled me at practice, and I landed wrong. It wasn't you who hurt me." He smirks.
For that remark alone, I want to punch him in the same spot again. "You're lucky I left the Helix behind the bar."
He stares at me like I said something idiotic. "Princess, do you think I would've approached you like that if I hadn't seen it on the cutting board?"
"What if I had the Du Hoc on me?" I challenge him.
He grins. "You left that one on my nightstand this morning."
I did? Well, shit!
Wes had talked me into spending the night at his place, and it was everything I ever imagined being normal. We ordered pizza, watched a movie with Kai, Zeke, and Kiwi, and then went to bed.
Well, not to sleep.
I sat on his mattress, fidgeting with the duvet, my skin hypersensitive to the gazillion-thread-count sheet set. I'd never slept at a guy's place before—besides Kiwi's, but he didn't count. What if I kicked him in my sleep, or I had my nightmare and woke Kai up? I was sliding my legs back out of the bed when Wes entered from the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
"I, um…maybe I should go home?"
"Why?" At his scowl, I wanted to pull the comforter over my head.
Why didn't he see it? I didn't want to spell it out.
Closing my eyes so I didn't have to see his reaction, I confessed, "I don't know what I'm doing, Wes. I've never been in a relationship. What if I wake up screaming? What are you going to tell Kai? I can't—"
He stopped me by pressing his lips to mine. Not having seen his approach coming, I fell backward into the mound of pillows, and my eyes popped open.
Pulling back, he studied me. "Do you think I know what I'm doing? I have never had a girlfriend." After a pause, he amended, "Not one I was serious about."
He was serious about me? My heart somersaulted at his admission, and at the same time, my throat closed up. I blinked against the building moisture.
"Hey." His gentle tone made it worse, and I stared at the ceiling above us. "Princess, wha—"
"Why do you call me princess?" I blurted out. I loved it, but it was not your typical endearment a twenty-some guy calls a girl.
"Because of your name: King. Maybe one day, I'll change it to Queen." He winked, breaking the somber mood, and I burst out laughing.
"You're such a dork."
"Don't I know it." He placed a kiss on my nose. "I thought that guy died a long time ago, but you brought him back."
With that, he captured my mouth with his, and I forced every negative thought out of my mind, making love for the first time at twenty-two years old.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I'm happy, is my first thought as I wake up next to King for the third day in a row. What an odd sensation after such a long time.
After her almost-freak-out the first evening, she tried arguing with me again the second, using Echo as an excuse to go home after her shift. So, I did what every guy would do: I brought her dog to my house.
Wednesday was her night off, and I told her to meet me at the townhouse. Kai announced at practice that he would be spending the night at his newest bedwarmer's place, so I planned to pick up dinner and finally have some real alone time with King.
She and Echo followed me into the garage when I pulled in. Heading up the stairs, she made her way into the kitchen but stopped short, causing me to bump into her with the take-out bags. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes bouncing back and forth between the food dishes on the floor and me. I had stopped quickly at the local pet store after my morning class, not wanting Echo to have to eat and drink out of our unused pots again for her meal.
Suddenly unsure if I had done the right thing, I attempted to downplay it. "It's just bowls."
She wrapped her arms around me, pressing her cheek against my chest. "Thank you."
Had anyone ever done something nice for her?
Still loaded with bags, I awkwardly hugged her back, mumbling, "It's nothing."
Being the amazing woman she was, she dropped the topic. We ate dinner, watched a movie on the couch—her lying on top of me, humming in contentment—and the rest of the night I spent buried deep inside of her.
Yup, I was happy.
My mood took a dive when I had to say goodbye to her on Friday. It was just for a night, but this entire week, she didn't have one nightmare. From what I gathered by eavesdropping on a conversation King had with Kiwi, this was unusual. The thought of her going back to her place and not being able to sleep made my chest constrict.
"I've been fine long before you came along, Sheats." She smirked at me, but the smile didn't meet her eyes. I placed a kiss on her forehead and made her promise to call if she woke up. I didn't spell it out, but it was clear what I meant.
She didn't call, and I didn't ask her when I got back Saturday afternoon, even though every cell in my body demanded to know. The fierce need to protect her from any harm had grown the more time we spent together.
We've fallen into a routine, and I would be lying if I said I didn't like it. Is this too soon? Probably. But the inner peace she brings me outweighs any possible consequence. King and Echo spend every night at my house. Some nights, I pick Echo up while King is still at work. Others, they come over together.
I'm at practice when Coach blows the whistle in the middle of the sprint exercise. It's the day before our second away game, and he always tortures us a little extra for those. For what, I haven't been able to figure out.
"SHEATS!"
I stop short at my name and turn.
"Answer your freaking phone. It won't stop ringing."
I look around at my teammates, mentally taking count of whoever is not here. All the usual candidates are present, except—a hollow sensation settles in my chest, and I take off toward the bench where I had left my bag.
King or Den.
I pull it out from the side pocket, and the screen lights up automatically. Eight missed calls from King. Shit. I tap on her name and don't have to wait for more than two rings before my sobbing girlfriend answers the phone.
"Sh-she i-is in s-surgery," are the four words coming t
hrough the speaker.
I grip my hair with my free hand. Stay calm. Figure out what's going on. I've been through hell with my friends; I can do this. But hearing King nearly hysterical—
"She who? Princess, what's going on?" Deep breaths.
"E-Echo."
I close my eyes. Please no. "What's wrong with Echo?" As relieved as I am that King is okay, the dog has grown on me, and she means the world to King.
Footsteps in the background indicate that she is pacing. "S-she got hit by a c-car. She j-jumped out of the Jeep and—" I can picture the rest.
"Where are you?"
King gives me the address of the vet, and I'm on my way. Grabbing my bag, I yell in Coach's direction that there is an emergency, and I have to go. I don't wait for his response. Kai can tell me later if I'm benched tomorrow.
The drive takes ten minutes, and I burst through the door of the clinic, finding Mags walking back and forth in the waiting area. Her head snaps up. "Oh, thank God!"
King's best friend throws herself in my arms, and I pull her close, scanning the place for my girlfriend. "Where is she?"
Mags steps back. "She's through there. They told her she could wait outside the operating room."
I nod, unsure if I should follow or wait here. "What happened?" I ask without taking my eyes from the door Mags pointed at.
"One of the frat guys across the street backed out of his driveway and into ours to make the turn into the street."
What?
"He did what?" I try to picture the scene but come up blank.
"It's trash day, and one of the neighbors is moving. The street was packed with a truck, cars, and trash bins. Andrew couldn't turn into the street without hitting another car. So, he backed into our driveway to make it. It was an accident. Echo came around the Jeep—" Mags covers her mouth with her hands, fresh tears running down her face.
I press my lips together, preventing myself from asking where I can find said Andrew. Accident or no accident, we'd have a chat.
"I'm gonna go check on King. Are you okay here?" And where the hell is Kiwi?