“That’s good,” I mumbled to my dream Wes and held him tighter as the Sandman was about to claim his newest victim. Wes’s arms locked around me, bringing a flicker of recognition to the surface. Every part of Dream Wes’s body touched me in some way. Exactly how he would if he were here. I sighed and let myself sink.
The sound of Wes’s voice seemed far away, garbled when he spoke. “I remembered you, Mia. Every day I was gone, you were right there, with me. I lived off the memory of you.”
Chapter Two
A raging inferno of heat licked at the surface of my skin, undulating over every curve until it was blistering hot. The heaviness on top of the fire made it hard to move. I tested the ability on my legs and found them locked down. A hairy leg was clamped over my thighs. Wait. What? As my brain came back online, everything within me stiffened. My heart started pounding so hard I worried it was a base drum on my chest, loud enough to wake the person who slept behind me. Instantly my skin became clammy, anxiety sending the fear receptors spinning.
Ever so slowly, I maneuvered anxiety-soaked limbs and prepared to strike. I tightened my hand into a fist, readied my elbow to jab, tuck, and roll, kind of like I’d been taught in grade school when there was a fire. Only then it was Stop. Drop. Roll. I repeated the chant in my mind. Jab. Roll. Drop. Meaning drop off the side of the bed and run like hell.
A male groan came from behind me and the extremities surrounding me locked even tighter. “I can hear you thinking.” His voice was roughened by sleep.
Just as I was about to strike and go for gold with the well thought out jab-roll-drop method, that voice cut through the plan like a sharp blade through a satin ribbon. A new sensation shimmered all around me as gooseflesh skimmed across my skin followed by uncontrollable chills. Tears pricked at my eyes, and I turned over. The death grip around me loosened enough so that I could move. I was now face-to-face with the only man I wanted more than my next breath.
Wes.
The tears fell. His hand came up and cupped my cheek. “Miss me?” He grinned and I lost it.
As fast as a ninja, I had him on his back, and I straddled his hips. A very impressive part of his body was eager to say hello too, but I’d get to that later. My mouth was already on the move. I layered kisses over every single inch of his face. All over his forehead, down each cheek, over a bearded chin, which tickled and teased my lips as I passed. I avoided his neck where a bandage protected his wound.
God, I can’t believe he’s here in the flesh.
Finally, I set my lips over his. He opened immediately. I waited less than half-a second to make him mine.
His tongue was warm, wet, and everything I’d dreamed of for the past two months. I cupped the sides of his face, and our tongues danced. Wes’s hands ran up and down my back, his hips thrusting into my center, soothing me as much as lighting a match over the desire for him burning within me.
He pulled away briefly from our kiss, to growl a fierce, “Need inside you, Mia. Make me whole.”
Without losing the touch of our lips, I shifted up onto my knees so I could pull the panties off. Once done, I grappled with his boxer briefs shoving them as far as I could reach until the material gathered near my toes where I shoved them down his legs. He finished by kicking them off and gripping onto my hips. His cock was long, thick, and hard as stone, proudly erect, waiting to drive home.
There was no need for foreplay, soft touches, or sexy words. This was not making love, or fucking a person you missed after a long break. No, this was a straight claiming. Animalistic, yet filled with an unrelenting sense of adoration and carnal need.
I lifted up once more, swirled the pearl of pre-cum at the top around the crown of his thick erection, groaning as I salivated with the desire to suck him off, but I needed the intense connection more. I sat down hard and screamed as the thick, corded shaft entered me sharply. Air left my lungs as my center clenched and pulsated around his rigid length inside me. Falling forward, I centered my palm flat on his chest over his heart and looked into his bright green eyes.
“Wes”—I patted his chest—“you’re real.”
“And you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He inhaled, his eyes telling me everything. How much he missed me. His desire for me. And how the love we had brought him home. “Christ, you’re insanely beautiful.” His grip tightened around the fleshy part of my hips, bruising in its intensity.
I didn’t care. I wanted his mark on me. Knowing he’d given it to me physically meant he was home, there in person to give it. I’d never let him go again.
Wes moved his hands to my tank top, and I lifted it over my head and tossed it aside. Then I rocked against him. He sucked a breath between his teeth and closed his eyes.
“Don’t close your eyes!” My voice shook.
Wes licked his lips, pressed me up so that his dick was just barely in me before letting gravity take over and I slammed back down. We both gasped at the depth. His cock swelled as I squeezed.
“Why, baby?” he asked, thrusting up into me. His rock-hard cock grated along the perfect spot inside.
I caressed his face, touching each of his features with my fingertips, making sure he was real. When I got to his lips, he sucked and nibbled at my fingers, sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through me. My pussy clamped down, and moisture slickened the area where our bodies met.
Rocking back and forth, up and down, he let me set the pace.
“Why?” he asked again, toying with my nipples, plucking and elongating them into painful points begging for the warmth of his mouth.
Centering my hands on his chest, I lifted up and crashed down, grinding my clit into his pelvic bone. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re going to make me come.”
“That’s the plan.” Along with the distraction from his question.
Wes wouldn’t have it. He secured my waist on the down-stroke, preventing me from moving. It was like being tacked to the wall, only I was pinned with a giant throbbing succulent piece of male flesh. I whimpered, stuffed so full, but being denied the pleasure of riding him until I came.
“Tell me.”
I rolled my head, loosening the tension in my neck that felt like it had been there my entire life. “Baby, in my dreams, our eyes are closed,” I said simply. It was an answer, vague, hiding the truth.
“Did you dream about me a lot?” His question surprised me, went right to the heart of the nagging fear that I was experiencing now. I would wake up alone, broken, and with a hole in my heart so large the entire Pacific Ocean could pour in and not drown me.
At first I didn’t answer until he stirred his dick within me, stroking in a circular pattern, making my clit throb and the rest of my body quake. “Did you, sweetheart?”
I nodded and bit my lip, enjoying every twitch inside. I never wanted him to leave my body. If I was honest, I never wanted him to leave. Period.
“Did you come thinking of me?” His eyes blazed a darkening forest green, the pupils widening.
I sighed and relaxed when he let me shimmy my hips, hunting and pecking for the tiniest bit of relief.
Inhaling softly, I answered him. I’d do anything for him, even if it embarrassed me. He’d come home. “Sometimes. Mostly, you’d vanish, and I’d be in a strange bed alone.”
He gripped my hips, helped push me up, and controlled my pace as I came down, inch by inch. His fat cock pushed through sensitive tissues slowly, sending tingles of my impending orgasm through my core.
“Don’t close your eyes,” I said again.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Wes lifted up and shoved himself back until his upper body rested against headboard. His dick went impossibly deep and I gasped, dropping my head back, the length of my hair falling down, tickling the edges of my ass and his thighs. With one of his hands he held me tight at the waist, with the other he started low at my spine and then trailed up, caressing my lower back between my shoulder blades until he tunneled his fingers into my hair and gripped a handful…hard. He forced my head up until we w
ere eye-to-eye.
The vise-like grip he had on my hair and the prickling heat at the roots caused the pain to quickly morph into pleasure. I moaned, my mouth hovering over his.
“This, sweetheart. What we have. You and me. It’s what kept me alive. I owe you my life.” Tears filled his eyes while he stared at me as if he could see straight through to my very soul.
I shook my head and licked my lips, touching his in the process. I gasped as twin tears ran down the sides of his face. “No, Wes. I live for you. You make me believe that I deserve more. And baby, you’re my more…and it’s everything.”
We held one another’s faces as our lips crashed together, taking, giving, loving. What I had thought was love before was absolutely nothing compared to this. I knew I’d never love another with my entire being the way I did Weston Channing the third.
He pulled back, traced my face with kisses, his length still piercing me. It was as if he was content just being inside me, sharing one body.
“I’m going to marry you soon.” His breath was hot against my ear, but the words were blistering hot, working that heat from the very heart of me and out. I clamped down around him and he groaned.
“Was that a proposal?” I moved my hips, reminding him where we were connected. The pleasure of having him there, hard and purposeful, was its own aphrodisiac. I sighed, rose onto my knees, slid a few inches out, and then lowered myself, rekindling that fire.
He sighed and toyed with my nipples again before leaning forward and taking one into his warm mouth. I held his head to my breast, relishing having him there once more. My nipples ached with anticipation. Wes sucked the tip hard, retreating back and letting it fall out of his mouth. His saliva glistened at the peak in the morning light. A sexy display mimicking what was happening down below.
“I’m not proposing, because you haven’t the option to say no,” he said before swirling his tongue around the neglected breast.
“Is that right?” I sighed and circled my hips, attempting more friction.
He growled around my breast. “I own this body.” He sucked hard at the tip, sending jolts of pleasure spiraling down, making me impossibly wet. His lips trailed up to the skin where my heart beat rapidly beneath. “I own this heart.” He licked and kissed at the skin, and his hands intertwined at the nape of my neck. His lips hovered over mine. “We own this love.” He sealed his statement with a deep, mind-numbing, toe-curling kiss.
Weston was right. We did own this love, and for the next hour, he showed me exactly what our love looked like, and I lost my mind again and again.
* * *
I watched Wes sleep and take each breath after we’d made love. I’d never thought the simple act of watching the man I loved sleep, breathe, and just be would give me such peace, but it did. He’d surprised the hell out of me when I woke with him curled behind my back. Still, as I ran my fingers through his hair, it was hard to believe he was safe, sound, and home. Worse for the wear, but alive and sleeping next to me.
Out of nowhere, the bedroom door opened and Judi walked in. Her gaze clocked me, and then Wes. Her load of clean linens shook in her hands as she gasped. I smiled. Judi’s face lit up, cheeks pinking prettily. Promptly, she set down the load of towels and sheets by the dresser, turned, and left the room.
Slowly, I eased out of the bed, pulled on the white T-shirt Wes had worn, and let his scent surround me. I tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen where Judi was pulling down food boxes from the cupboard. Her hand shook as she settled the pancake mix on the counter.
“Judi?” I came around the counter, and she stopped, her shoulders dropping low. On a burst, she turned around and embraced me in a bone-crushing hug.
“My Sonny is home. Thank the Lord in heaven above.” Her tears mixed with her laughter while I held her. “Now we can be a family.”
There it was again. That single word that had begun to mean more to me than anything else.
“If Wes has his way, that might happen sooner rather than later.”
She stepped back, her hands holding me at the biceps. Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head. “How so? Did he ask you…?” A delicate hand moved to her mouth as her eyes widened. “That little devil.” Her tone was one of awe and excitement.
“He didn’t ask me to marry him.”
Judi frowned and placed her hands on her hips. “What?”
I shook my head, leveled my gaze on hers and gave her what she wanted. “He told me he was marrying me.”
The woman who’d spent the most time taking care of him other than his mother grinned. “I told you, when he sets his mind to something, he always gets his way.”
She turned around and pulled out the griddle, frying pans, and the other cooking utensils she needed.
“What are you doing?” I looked at the clock. It registered just after noon.
“Making you both a homecoming breakfast like no other, love.”
Of course she was. Leave it to Judi to show her happiness by cooking up a batch of true love. I’d eat every damn bite, too. My stomach was already beginning to growl at the thought of a home cooked meal. I hadn’t had a real sit down meal where I didn’t pick at my plate and push the food around since Texas.
I was making myself a cup of coffee when a pair of strong, warm arms surrounded my waist.
“Mmm, you weren’t there when I woke. I don’t like that.” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t kidding around. It was odd coming from my casual, laid-back guy. More than odd.
Laughing, I leaned back against him. My temple came into contact with something rough and scratchy. “Since when?” I wanted to make light of the comment he’d made. I didn’t care for this sudden change in his personality. Before, when we’d slept in the same bed, the one who woke first would let the other rest. It was our norm. Now, things were different.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” he warned, his voice harder than usual. The casual Wes he’d always been was still there but seemed to be buried under the surface of this tarnished version of his personality.
That irritation at my temple had a sharp edge that poked me. “Ouch.” I lifted a hand and my fingers grazed over the crunchy fabric.
“Fuck!” A pained grumble combined with a hiss left Wes’s mouth as his hands locked down on my hips.
I spun around and assessed the hurt. Over the side of his neck was the large white bandage I’d glimpsed before I attacked him like a sex-starved nympho. The center had a crimson splotch getting more red by the second.
“Oh my God, your gunshot. Shit! I should have been more careful.” That’s when it dawned on me that there was more of him not quite perfect. I looked at him with more of a critical eye now that the need of completing our connection had been sated.
Across Wes’s chest were several marks and bruises. Down one of his forearms were a series of what looked like burns. With shaking fingers I surveyed the wounds. “Baby…” The lump in my throat made it difficult to speak.
“I’m okay. We’re both home, and we can move on.” His voice was tight. A twinge of anger cut like a knife along each muttered word.
“But you’re not.” I leaned forward and kissed each healing wound and scar I found. The most worrisome being the neck. “Why isn’t the gunshot healed more?”
“It broke open a few days after surgery and needed to be re-stitched. Apparently, you have to stay in bed all the time in order to prevent sudden movements that would break open a wound.” He grinned and I frowned. Knowing that while he was gone, I was going bat-shit crazy. He must have been ten time worse. I can only imagine what type of patient he’d been.
Continuing my scan of his body, cataloging each of his injuries, I noted the pock marks over his left forearm now looked like angry red welts, craters with scabs over the centers. I went to put my mouth over one of them, he cupped my neck and shook his head.
“Don’t. I don’t want your perfection marred by this evil.” His jaw was clenched and his eyes black ho
les barely rimmed with emerald green.
Not heeding his words, I looked closely at one of the marks. He closed his eyes and locked his jaw.
“Eyes, baby.” I reminded him of my earlier need. He knew I was still raw over his abduction, and the only way we were going to get through it was if we did it together. We had to open those psychological wounds and bleed out the nasty so we could heal them.
Wes’s gaze locked on mine. His nostrils flared as I hovered over the sores. Keeping eye contact, I placed my lips right over one of the gnarly healing burns. If they were from what I thought, and I’d seen one of Blaine’s goons offer this type of punishment before, the radicals were putting out cigarettes in my dear Wes’s arm. Torturing his beautiful sun-kissed skin, leaving reminders of where he’d been. I wanted to wash away those memories with something beautiful.
So I did the only thing I could do. I kissed each and every mark, reclaiming it. “I own this body,” I whispered his words back to him, trailing up his arm to his chest. I placed my lips over his heart, kissed and licked the space the same way he did. He groaned low and deep but kept his eyes open. “I own this heart.” I licked my lips, got to my tiptoes, and wrapped my arms around his shoulder, being careful not to touch the damaged area on his neck. Putting my lips close to his, I said the final words, “We own this love.” Then I kissed him, long and deep with every ounce of love I had been holding inside for the past two months.
“You two going to neck all day, or are you going to eat the feast I’ve prepared?” Judi called from the other side of the kitchen, breaking through what was sure to be another round of hardcore fucking right where we stood.
Wes laughed against my lips. With one hand he held me at the waist, keeping our bodies smashed against one another, the other holding a chunk of ass cheek where he was copping a serious feel. The flicker of excitement started low in my groin.
I rubbed my nose against his. “We have eternity, baby. Let’s eat. You’re too thin,” I said, feeling the ridges of his ribs as I trailed a hand down his bare chest. He’d lost weight, but it didn’t affect the perfection of his muscle tone and washboard abs. The sexy as fuck indents at his hips were a bit more pronounced, almost as if they were an arrow pointing directly to the center of my fascination. I palmed his cock, which was half-hard already. “Later?” I posed the promise as a question.
Calendar Girl: October: Book 10 Page 2