Until July
Page 17

“Don’t test me, July. I will win,” he says, standing me up then tugging my hand leading me back outside.
Chapter 6
I feel warmth and open one eye, then the other. They lock on dark stubble and a pair of lips I learned last night are perfect for kissing.
“Sleep,” his deep voice rumbles as his hand on my ass and his arm wrapped around my shoulders pull me tighter against his warm body.
I feel the hair on his chest scrape against my nipples and my eyebrows pull together. “Where’s my shirt?” I question, then sigh in relief when I realize I still have my panties on.
“You insisted we sleep chest-to-chest, something about feeling connected to me,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Seriously?” I whisper, feeling like an idiot. Who says crap like that?
“You kept saying our souls are connected,” he says, and I hear the smile in his voice.
“Shut up,” I hiss, tilting my head back to look at him.
His head inclines and a smile forms on his lips. “True story, baby.”
“I’m never drinking with you again.” I shake my head then regret it when it starts to throb. I drank too much last night, but when we went back out to the party, more women had shown up, and I knew the only way I was going to make it through the night was by getting a good buzz going.
“You should be saying you’ll never try to outdrink Harlen again,” he corrects, and flashes of me and a guy who was giant taking shots filter through my head.
“That happened?” I question, biting my lip.
“Oh, yeah.”
“And the dance-off?” I whisper, hoping I had just made that memory up.
“You’ve got moves.”
“Right,” I mumble, feeling my face heat in embarrassment.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he says softly, tucking the top of my head under his chin.
“We didn’t…you know, right?” I ask in a hushed tone.
His face moves until his lips are brushing my ear. “The first time I have you, the first time my mouth and cock get a taste of your pussy, you’re not going to be drunk, and you’re sure as fuck going to remember it and feel it the next day.”
My breath pauses, my nipples pucker in anticipation, and the walls of my vagina contract.
“Now try to sleep.”
“Sure,” I agreed, even though I know I’m not going to be able to sleep, not now, not with the heat of his skin absorbing into me, his smell making it hard to think, and feeling his cock against my belly through his boxers. “Have you washed these sheets since the last time you had someone else in your bed?” I ask him as my mind registers that not only am I practically naked, but I’m practically naked with him in his room at the clubhouse.
“You’re a pain in my ass, beautiful,” he grumbles.
“I just don’t want cooties.” I smile, and his hand on my ass taps twice before grabbing a handful making my belly clench.
“Remember how I said that until I was in there, you needed to wear clothes?” he questions, his voice sounding deeper than before.
“Uh…”
“Until I’m in there, baby, you’re gonna need to settle when I ask you, ’cause right now, I can’t give you what you need to help you sleep.”
I start to pant, and my nipples scrape against his chest with each inhale. I’m not sure I would be able to handle him; his intensity and rawness are something new to me. The feeling he causes within me from a few words is intimidating.
“Sleep.” He gives me another squeeze.
“So annoying,” I mumble, and I try to fight it, but my eyes slowly slide closed and I relax into his embrace until I fall asleep.
*
“C’mere,” Wes says, pulling me down into his lap at my kitchen table and kissing me.
“I thought you were going to get Capone?” I breathe when his mouth leaves mine. This morning when he woke me up at the clubhouse, he asked me to spend the day with him before we even got out of bed. I knew I needed to step back, but I just can’t. He’s like a drug I can’t get enough of. So while he went to the bathroom, I found his shirt and slipped it on, along with my jeans and sneakers, and planned what I would make for dinner since it was already after three in the afternoon.
His hand on my thigh traveling up my side brings me back to the moment, and the breath I was about to release gets trapped in my lungs as his fingers come to rest under my breast. My eyes move from his hand to his eyes that are heated, the mint green looking wild and untamed.
“You…in my shirt…no bra…your dark nipples visible…” His eyes lift to meet mine and his hands move to my hips, where he lifts me swiftly to the table in front of him. His face ducks and he pulls one of my nipples into his mouth through the material of his shirt.
“Oh!” I cry as the roughness of the shirt scrapes against my nipple as he tugs. “Wes.” I grab onto his hair as my head drops back, and his mouth moves to my other breast, where he delivers the same treatment.
When his mouth leaves my breast, my eyes flutter open to look at him. His hand wraps around the back of my neck and he pulls my mouth down to his. I tilt my head and my lips part as his tongue slides across my bottom lip. My fingers thread through his hair as I slide off the table and onto his lap, my legs hanging over each side of the chair, my core connecting with the large bulge in his pants.
“Fuck,” he mutters as I rock against him. His head tilts further taking over the kiss before ripping his mouth from mine.
“What?” I ask in a daze.
His head is back, his eyes are closed, and his jaw is tight. “Off,” he commands, and I frown out of confusion. “Off, babe,” he growls.
I scurry off of his lap and go to stand near my fridge with my arms crossed over my chest. The wetness from his mouth on the shirt makes it hard to focus as it rubs across my nipples.
“I’ll be back,” he mutters and leaves without even looking at me. I stand there confused for a few moments, not understanding what the hell just happened then look down when Juice rubs against my legs and meows like he’s confused as well.
I pick him up and carry him back to my room, dumping him on the bed before heading to the shower replaying everything that just happened while trying to figure out what I missed. Once I’m dressed, I head for the door when the bell rings. I expect it to be Wes, and my pulse speeds up when I see my mom standing on the other side of the door.
“Shit,” I whisper swinging the door open.