I’m flat on his bed and West is propped up on his side next to me. His fingers sweep across the plane of my stomach and his deep blue eyes follow an imaginary line like an artist would a paintbrush along a canvas. “You’re the sexiest damn thing. Jesus, your skin is soft.”
West shuts his eyes and I suck in a breath. This is dangerous. Very dangerous. My lips are still swollen from earlier. Kissing West is addictive. It propels me to want to kiss and touch more and travel with him to unknown and hidden places. And I secretly begin to imagine the type of kissing that involves darkness and covers and whispers.
His fingers slip under the already tucked up fabric of my shirt and he gently skims the trim of my bra. Heat explodes throughout my body and my breathing hitches. It’s frightening how I react to one simple caress.
Not good. Not good at all. Actually, it’s very good and I all but purr with his hands on my bare skin, but I need to think. I need air.
Without warning, I go to roll off the bed, but in lightning-fast movements, West captures my waist and draws me back to him. “Where are you going?”
“You’re going to kiss me again,” I say a little breathlessly.
“Yes, I am. Not sure if you knew, but last week was my birthday so that means I get a two-week grace period of presents. Kisses come with the territory. It’s a state law.”
I giggle. “Now you’re playing the birthday card.”
“Play it. Use it. Own it.” His voice hums over my skin as his fingers begin to roam. Oh Lord in heaven, I’ve never experienced this type of mesmerizing intimacy in my life.
“Anything to kiss you again,” he whispers into my ear and I shiver.
An overpowering urge screams to melt into him, to hold him, to wrap my body around him, but it’s the small voice begging me to listen to reason I cling to. “I need this to go slow.”
“Slow.” He nibbles on my ear and pleasurable goose bumps form on my neck. “I can make this as slow as you need.”
This is killing me because I crave his kisses, but... “Er. At least slower.”
West sighs, then falls back onto the bed, rubbing his face with both his hands. “I can do slower. It’s possible.” With a moan, West shoves off the bed, puts on his shoes and offers me his hand. “Let’s go for a drive. That should be safe.”
We end up in West’s SUV, driving around for hours talking about Rachel and hospitals, Isaiah and Abby, his relationship or nonrelationship with his father, how he’s been following his mother for over a year and Abby’s confession that his mother visits her brother at the bar.
“What are you going to do?” I ask as West stops at the last red light before we turn into my uncle’s neighborhood. “About your mom?”
He switches the hand he drives with and stares off into space. “I don’t know. I’ll try to talk to Abby again, but the more I talk to her, the further down the rabbit hole I fall.”
It’s like how I feel when I have a conversation with Matt. For a few seconds last week, I considered his deal. I could return to Matt for twenty-four hours, for a day, and then he’d be forced to keep his word and wipe the slate clean. But due to what’s happened with West, for better or worse, the option is no longer on the table.
Unable to look at him, I pick at lint on my shirt. “What number girlfriend am I?”
The light changes and West takes the right. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”
I laugh, then sober up when his mouth bunches to the right.
“You’re kidding,” I say.
He shakes his head and my imagination clicks at full speed. “You don’t kiss like you’ve never had a girlfriend.”
West scratches the shadow forming on his chin and is unusually silent for him. My stomach sinks. Crap. Just crap. “How bad?” I ask. He said he hooked up before, but how many hookups is he talking?
Silence. A long silence. Silence should be forbidden.
“Bad,” he finally answers.
The interior of the SUV darkens as we enter the lightless viaduct of the neighborhood. My skin pricks as the ghosts of West’s beautiful, bold and uninhibited lipstick-and thigh-high-wearing hookups hover near me. I bet they knew every secret move, every intimate whisper, and never blushed or fidgeted when touching went too fast and clothes were shed too quickly.
“Matt’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had,” I admit. “The only guy I’ve ever kissed.”
The washed-out sympathetic glance he throws me makes me want to shoot myself. He already knew. Sitting here in a pair of faded jeans, I have never felt as homely as I do now. I’m going to freaking strangle Jessica. I’m sure she gave him an entire history lesson on me.
West eases in front of my uncle’s and his expression hardens as he gazes past me to the house. “What the hell?”
I whip my head and panic shocks my nervous system. My hands fumble for the door handle, and after three tries I fling myself out of the SUV as West yells out behind me to stop, but I can’t stop. It’s Jax and if I don’t intervene, my uncle will throw him out.
Chapter 50
West
Haley bolts and I mutter a curse as I shove the car into Park and chase after her. On the front lawn of her uncle’s house, Jax and an older version of Jax stand nose to nose. Both of their shoulders stiff and tight, hands and arms ready to strike.
“Do it!” yells the older guy. “Become a man and take the damned swing!”
“No!” shouts Haley and she rushes them. The front door bangs against the worn siding and Kaden’s out of the house. He jumps off the stoop and collides with his cousin.
“Let him go!” The older guy, the ass**le, moves within eyeshot of Jax. The moment their gazes meet again, Jax attempts to surge toward him, but Kaden interlocks their arms, chest against chest, so that Jax goes no more than a step.
Using his shoulder, Kaden pushes him back, in my direction, and Haley’s following them. In a movement so smooth it appears coordinated, Kaden slides to the left, keeping Jax in his grip, and Haley slips in front of Jax and cups his face near his eyes, distorting his peripheral vision. “You don’t want to do this,” she says.
“I do.” Jax jacks his head to get a view of the dick still dropping insults. “I want to f**king kill him.”
“A year,” Haley says rapidly. “A year and you’re out. Think of your mom. Think of your brothers. You can’t protect them if you’re not here. If you give your dad what he wants, he’ll throw you out. He’ll call the police. It’s what he wants. He wants to prove John is wrong.”
West shuts his eyes and I suck in a breath. This is dangerous. Very dangerous. My lips are still swollen from earlier. Kissing West is addictive. It propels me to want to kiss and touch more and travel with him to unknown and hidden places. And I secretly begin to imagine the type of kissing that involves darkness and covers and whispers.
His fingers slip under the already tucked up fabric of my shirt and he gently skims the trim of my bra. Heat explodes throughout my body and my breathing hitches. It’s frightening how I react to one simple caress.
Not good. Not good at all. Actually, it’s very good and I all but purr with his hands on my bare skin, but I need to think. I need air.
Without warning, I go to roll off the bed, but in lightning-fast movements, West captures my waist and draws me back to him. “Where are you going?”
“You’re going to kiss me again,” I say a little breathlessly.
“Yes, I am. Not sure if you knew, but last week was my birthday so that means I get a two-week grace period of presents. Kisses come with the territory. It’s a state law.”
I giggle. “Now you’re playing the birthday card.”
“Play it. Use it. Own it.” His voice hums over my skin as his fingers begin to roam. Oh Lord in heaven, I’ve never experienced this type of mesmerizing intimacy in my life.
“Anything to kiss you again,” he whispers into my ear and I shiver.
An overpowering urge screams to melt into him, to hold him, to wrap my body around him, but it’s the small voice begging me to listen to reason I cling to. “I need this to go slow.”
“Slow.” He nibbles on my ear and pleasurable goose bumps form on my neck. “I can make this as slow as you need.”
This is killing me because I crave his kisses, but... “Er. At least slower.”
West sighs, then falls back onto the bed, rubbing his face with both his hands. “I can do slower. It’s possible.” With a moan, West shoves off the bed, puts on his shoes and offers me his hand. “Let’s go for a drive. That should be safe.”
We end up in West’s SUV, driving around for hours talking about Rachel and hospitals, Isaiah and Abby, his relationship or nonrelationship with his father, how he’s been following his mother for over a year and Abby’s confession that his mother visits her brother at the bar.
“What are you going to do?” I ask as West stops at the last red light before we turn into my uncle’s neighborhood. “About your mom?”
He switches the hand he drives with and stares off into space. “I don’t know. I’ll try to talk to Abby again, but the more I talk to her, the further down the rabbit hole I fall.”
It’s like how I feel when I have a conversation with Matt. For a few seconds last week, I considered his deal. I could return to Matt for twenty-four hours, for a day, and then he’d be forced to keep his word and wipe the slate clean. But due to what’s happened with West, for better or worse, the option is no longer on the table.
Unable to look at him, I pick at lint on my shirt. “What number girlfriend am I?”
The light changes and West takes the right. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”
I laugh, then sober up when his mouth bunches to the right.
“You’re kidding,” I say.
He shakes his head and my imagination clicks at full speed. “You don’t kiss like you’ve never had a girlfriend.”
West scratches the shadow forming on his chin and is unusually silent for him. My stomach sinks. Crap. Just crap. “How bad?” I ask. He said he hooked up before, but how many hookups is he talking?
Silence. A long silence. Silence should be forbidden.
“Bad,” he finally answers.
The interior of the SUV darkens as we enter the lightless viaduct of the neighborhood. My skin pricks as the ghosts of West’s beautiful, bold and uninhibited lipstick-and thigh-high-wearing hookups hover near me. I bet they knew every secret move, every intimate whisper, and never blushed or fidgeted when touching went too fast and clothes were shed too quickly.
“Matt’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had,” I admit. “The only guy I’ve ever kissed.”
The washed-out sympathetic glance he throws me makes me want to shoot myself. He already knew. Sitting here in a pair of faded jeans, I have never felt as homely as I do now. I’m going to freaking strangle Jessica. I’m sure she gave him an entire history lesson on me.
West eases in front of my uncle’s and his expression hardens as he gazes past me to the house. “What the hell?”
I whip my head and panic shocks my nervous system. My hands fumble for the door handle, and after three tries I fling myself out of the SUV as West yells out behind me to stop, but I can’t stop. It’s Jax and if I don’t intervene, my uncle will throw him out.
Chapter 50
West
Haley bolts and I mutter a curse as I shove the car into Park and chase after her. On the front lawn of her uncle’s house, Jax and an older version of Jax stand nose to nose. Both of their shoulders stiff and tight, hands and arms ready to strike.
“Do it!” yells the older guy. “Become a man and take the damned swing!”
“No!” shouts Haley and she rushes them. The front door bangs against the worn siding and Kaden’s out of the house. He jumps off the stoop and collides with his cousin.
“Let him go!” The older guy, the ass**le, moves within eyeshot of Jax. The moment their gazes meet again, Jax attempts to surge toward him, but Kaden interlocks their arms, chest against chest, so that Jax goes no more than a step.
Using his shoulder, Kaden pushes him back, in my direction, and Haley’s following them. In a movement so smooth it appears coordinated, Kaden slides to the left, keeping Jax in his grip, and Haley slips in front of Jax and cups his face near his eyes, distorting his peripheral vision. “You don’t want to do this,” she says.
“I do.” Jax jacks his head to get a view of the dick still dropping insults. “I want to f**king kill him.”
“A year,” Haley says rapidly. “A year and you’re out. Think of your mom. Think of your brothers. You can’t protect them if you’re not here. If you give your dad what he wants, he’ll throw you out. He’ll call the police. It’s what he wants. He wants to prove John is wrong.”
