I wasn’t sure what was worse, Weston using the word pussy fifty-two times or the sound of regret in his tone.
At this juncture, I really didn’t want to talk. I wasn’t sure what I would do if he told me what happened was a mistake—even if he was right and we shouldn’t have gone there—it would kill to hear him say it.
I didn’t want to hear it, therefore I got smart and brought my hands up to his chest and started to shove him off of me.
“Move,” I demanded.
“Not until we talk.”
“I get it.”
“No, Silver, I’m learning you don’t get shit and I’m gonna have to spell it out for you.”
“I think I’ve had enough of you spelling things out for me.”
Weston’s face broke out into a wide smile—another one of his half-smirk, half-I-have-a-really-great-secret—kinds, and I wished he’d stop doing that. It was hard enough to breathe with him braced over me, muscles on display—not all of them of course, but I had the perfect view of his chest, shoulders, and biceps.
“You’re wearing my tee,” he noted.
It’s worth mentioning he didn’t look put-out by this. If anything his face had gentled and he was looking at me funny.
I had five-hundred and fifty-two sarcastic and bitchy comebacks on the tip of my tongue but wisely I kept them to myself.
“Yep,” was what I settled on.
“Back to what happened,” he started.
“You don’t—”
I got nothing else out. Weston rolled to his side, bringing me with him, tagged my thigh, brought it over his, and held me captive.
‘Captive’ being a relative term since it felt good, and therefore I didn’t struggle all that much. Though I knew I should’ve. Our new position was dangerous. If Weston moved or pulled my leg higher, my bare pussy would be pressed against his thigh.
“So, straight up, I only meant to kiss you. After hearing you spout off the garbage in your head, I had a point to make. But honest to God, the second you came at me and your lips were on mine, I couldn’t for the life of me remember what my point was. From there, everything that happened was without thought. I allowed need to take over when I should’ve stayed in control. So now we gotta talk about it and I think I know where you’re at with all of it, but I have to make sure.”
“Where I’m at?”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t exactly ask if I could undress you and take you on the counter.”
That was sweet he was asking me now, and Weston being sweet was a different kind of dangerous. When his voice gentled and he was showing concern for my well-being it was hard to remain bitchy. It was like he doused my bad attitude and I was powerless to keep it, even if it was the smart thing to do.
“I kissed you,” I reminded him.
“You did. But that didn’t give me the green light to take your shirt off.”
He was right, it didn’t. But I hadn’t told him no. I’d lifted my arms and aided him in his endeavor. I’d even begged him to give me more and definitely helped him take my pants off.
“If I didn’t want it to happen I would’ve told you no.”
“Good. That’s what I needed to hear. The second part of that is, in the future if I’m doing something you don’t like or going too fast I need you to understand if you tell me to stop I always will. No matter what we’re doin’, how far we’ve gone. I will always listen to you.”
In the future? My belly started to flutter and not in a bad way, in a really, really good way that scared me even more. ‘In the future’ meant he was planning on doing that again, and I liked what we did the first time so much, I knew I’d like it even more the second time. Which meant when all of this was over and we went our separate ways, it was going to not feel so great. In other words—I’d be heartbroken.
I didn’t have the experience to handle a casual affair. I didn’t understand what casual even meant. So I figured in an effort to quell future heartbreak it was better to experience the embarrassment of telling Weston that now. Better a moment of mortification than months of nursing my shattered heart.
“Weston?” I sighed.
“Right here, babe.”
“I don’t regret what we did. I liked it—all of it.”
“That’s good, because I fuckin’ loved it.”
Oh, hell, he wasn’t making this any easier saying stuff like that. And it was hard enough with my cheek to his chest and his hand resting on my thigh.
“But I don’t think it should happen again.”
“Right.” His mocking tone couldn’t be missed.
“I’m actually being serious. This is me being straight with you. I’ve never done this.”
“Told me that already.”
I had, but he must not have understood—I hadn’t done any of it. I was so lost I wasn’t even sure how I was going to explain all the reasons why we wouldn’t be fooling around again.
“Silver,” Weston prompted.
“We can’t do it again because I don’t understand what it is. I don’t understand why I behaved the way I did with you when the last man who kissed me had taken me out on four dates before he kissed me at the door. The kiss was so bad, I turned down date five.”
“Yeah?” I could feel Weston’s body shaking with silent laughter and I would’ve gotten pissed if it wasn’t kind of funny in a sad way.
“And before him, I dated that man for three months before I let him get his hands down my pants. That was so uneventful, I allowed him one more try and after an hour of him fumbling around, I think I had a mini-orgasm, but I still broke it off with him because, well, I don’t need to explain why. It’s been over five years since I’ve had sex. And that man had waited me out, done and said all the right things, but after we finally made it to bed, he broke up with me. I think you’re smart enough to put two and two together and figure out I’m completely inexperienced. I’m out of my element. I don’t do casual. And if I couldn’t even please a bumbling idiot who had no clue what he was doing, I could never please a man like you.”
“A man like me? We’re back to that shit? I thought I explained that your line of thinking is completely jacked.”
“I mean, a man who is obviously extremely experienced.”
“Extremely?”
“Don’t be an ass. You said it yourself. You barely had to touch me and I turned into some crazy lust-drunk idiot. Clearly, you know what you’re doing, and you do because you have experience—something I don’t have. And I doubt you were in a relationship with all those women who gave you that expertise. So you know how to do casual. I do not. Which means I will be the one who’s left heartbroken—not you. And that’s why nothing can happen between us again.”
There, I’d said it, and surprised I wasn’t as embarrassed as I thought I’d be. Now that he knew the truth we could put what happened behind us. I’d store the memory for a different day and sift through the encounter when I was alone in my apartment and I could reminiscence about how good he’d made me feel. How wanted. How sexy. How cared for.
I would never forget Weston Beil—not as long as I lived.
11
Weston was trying his best not to bust out laughing. He didn’t like hearing Silver talking about the men she’d been with in the past—he downright hated it. However, he didn’t mind knowing none of those men had given her what he had. And he fucking loved that she hadn’t lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July when any of them had touched her. Because she damn well had for him.
It also wasn’t funny that she’d had a shit sex life in the past. But again, he liked knowing in the future she’d have a great one, and he’d be the one to give it to her.
The thing he didn’t find amusing at all was that Silver was trying to pull away. That and she thought he wanted something casual. Nothing he was feeling toward her was casual. But she was mostly right about his past and the women he’d been with. There’d been a few who had been around longer than the rest. Some who he’d dated. Some he’d
been monogamous with. But none had been serious. Not in the sense he could see them going the distance. All of them had been missing something.
Try as he might, Weston couldn’t find what was missing with Silver. So there it was—she was right, he’d had plenty of women, enough to know when he found something he liked, and smart enough to know not to let it go.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Weston started.
“Which part?”
“All of it. Lust-drunk idiot? Babe, I call that a sexy-as-fuck siren who made me lose my mind and nearly come in my pants. Wanna talk about things that I’ve never done? I’ve never—not since I stopped being a boy—almost come in my pants. Not one time. Yet with you, I was sweating bullets thinking I’d shoot off and you’d think I was some idiot. I’ve never lost my control with a woman the way I did with you. Never taken a woman on the counter because I couldn’t wait another second to touch her. I’ve done casual plenty of times and I’m only telling you that so you’ll get this next part. Never have I had anyone turn me on the way you do. Let loose, get wild, and take what she wanted in a way I seriously got off on. You don’t need experience, babe, you’re a goddamn natural. And just so you’re crystal clear, I do not want casual with you. If you’re with me, you’re only with me, which means I am only with you. No one else enters our relationship while we’re exploring what’s between us.”
The only indication Silver gave she heard what he’d said was the twitch of her hand. And Weston only felt that because her palm was resting on his chest.
“But you don’t even like me. You said it yourself, I’m stubborn.”
“I’m finding I like your stubborn.”
“That’s crazy. No one likes stubborn. It’s annoying.”
“Then I must be crazy.”
“Weston, seriously, when this is over and I go home, back to work, back to my life, it won’t work out.”
“Why?”
“Because I work two-week rotations. Meaning I live at the yard for two weeks. It will get old.”
Now she was grasping at straws, the tiny red ones a bartender puts in frilly pussy drinks. They were so thin but she was fighting to get a handful.
He couldn’t deny that her being unavailable two weeks out of the month would suck, but it wasn’t a deal-breaker. Weston’s work schedule was unpredictable and that sucked, too. But it was certainly doable.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“And what I’m trying to tell you is when it comes and you find you don’t want to cross it, I’ll be the one heartbroken.”
Fuck, her honesty was killing him. He’d said he didn’t want to start a relationship where she masked her feelings and goddamn if she hadn’t torn that bitch off and was laying herself out there. Something that Weston respected a whole hell of a lot. He actually envied her courage.
Weston’s hand left her thigh and went to her jaw. He gently lifted her chin and captured her eyes. So damn pretty. Even with the hurt he was learning she’d lived through, they were still bright and pure. Honest when she wasn’t spitting fire.
“I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
“You say that, but you won’t be able to stop it. I won’t be able to stop it.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“What?” she startled. His question obviously took her by surprise. “Of course not.”
“Then you’ll have to trust me that I’m smart enough to know what I got with you is worth moving forward. Trust me to know that if I wasn’t sure, I’d cut you loose.”
“What do you think you have?”
“Treasure.”
Silver’s eyes drifted closed and Weston silently waited her out, letting his words settle, and hopefully penetrate.
“See. That right there,” she said when she opened her eyes, “is how I know I’ll be shattered when you figure out I’m not enough for you.”
He wanted to argue—rail against the stupid doubts her mother had planted—and he would’ve if he thought his words would help. But Weston was also smart enough to know words meant shit. She’d heard enough of them in her life, unfortunately, the wrong kind, so she wouldn’t believe anything he said.
The thing that would make Silver believe was action. And it was a good thing Weston was an action man. He wasn’t good with flowery sentiments, didn’t have the time or inclination, not that he wouldn’t give what he could to Silver with his words, but he’d show her. And that was what would make the difference.
“Take a chance,” Weston pleaded.
“But—”
“I’m not asking for a commitment in blood. Just the chance to see where this goes. Enough trust that I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t sure this is what I want.”
“You’ll trample my heart.”
“I’ll have a care, Silver. I will not hurt you. Take a chance.”
“I’ll think about it,” she relented.
Weston debated the wisdom of graciously accepting her answer and letting the topic drop. But quickly came to the decision he would not hold back, he wouldn’t be someone he wasn’t when he’d asked her for openness. She deserved to know where he stood and who he was. Nothing good would come from hiding it when she’d find out anyway.
“You should know that while you’re thinking about it I won’t be sitting around twiddling my thumbs.”
“What? Does that mean you’ll be…” she trailed off, too flustered to ask what she wanted to, but the hurt in her eyes was enough for Weston to puzzle out what she was trying to ask.
“Told you once and I meant it. No one enters our relationship, so you shouldn’t have to ask that question. But I’ll clarify, I won’t be seeing other women. But neither will I let you lock yourself in your head trying to come up with excuses why this won’t work. You go ahead and take your sweet time, because while you are, I’ll be proving to you I’m worth the chance you’re gonna have to take. So in the end, you’re gonna take it, and you’ll know I’d never hurt you.”
Goddamn, Silver was beautiful when she was off-kilter. Her eyes went unfocused, probably trying to form a rebuttal, one that Weston had no interest in hearing. Not because he didn’t care about what she was thinking, because he did—he cared about everything that had to do with Silver. But because of the way she was looking, how she felt pressed against him, he found there were other ways he wanted to spend their time together in his bed.
And luckily for him, Silver getting used to his touch, his kiss, and the feel of him wrapped around her, was step one in his plan to make her believe.
Weston lifted his head the scant distance needed and brushed his lips against hers. The sexy mew she made sealed the deal. He licked her full bottom lip and returned the favor. Fuck yeah. She may not have been experienced but he’d been right—she was a natural. Her tongue plunged in his mouth and Weston fought to control the kiss, keeping it slow but less powerful. She tasted like heaven. Their tongues continued to tangle together and Weston thought he’d been wrong. It wasn’t heaven he was tasting—it was treasure.
His treasure.
He’d waited a long fucking time to find it. Never would settle for anything less. Knew it was out there somewhere. And he’d been right. Being that Weston was as smart as he was—he was holding on.
Silver Coyle would not be the one who got away.
12
Instead of waking up refreshed, I’d woken up with dread in my stomach. Surprisingly it had nothing to do with my current dilemma involving Weston. That dilemma being, I’d cuddled close to him all night. This of course was after he’d given me a fantastic orgasm, told me he wanted to explore things with me, called me treasure—and come on, what woman wouldn’t want to explore things with a man who said that?
Then he’d kissed me a second time. That kiss was much different than the others. It was hot, full of passion, but he was trying to tell me something and maybe if I’d had more familiarity with the opposite sex I would’ve been able to read it. So all I knew was how it
made me feel—and I felt great. Too great.
It was already happening, I could feel it creeping in even as I was trying to push it away. Sleeping curled up next to Weston after the day I’d had where I wasn’t sure if I’d still be breathing at the end of it, only to be safely tucked to his side, was too much.
So this morning I’d taken some time to try to figure out how it was possible I could feel any sort of feelings for him this soon, when a thought hit me. It was unpleasant and it worried me. Was I the type of woman who would cling to a man because he’d been nice? Was I that desperate for someone to be kind to me? I thought the questions but couldn’t find the answers. At least not the ones I wanted because all evidence was pointing to the affirmative. I was that kind of woman and I was desperate. Both disturbing and disappointing answers.
But none of that was why I was dreading the day. After Weston’s delicious goodnight kiss, he informed me the team would be over in the morning to ‘brief’ and Alec Hall would more than likely show up at some point, too.
I was not looking forward to briefing in any way that word could mean. I didn’t want to talk about my stupidity or how I’d been chained up in the bottom of the Dora B. I’d eaten enough crow and was afraid anymore would make me gag. I didn’t know Alec all that well but he was intense, same as Weston and his team, so I suspected Alec was going to be pissed.
Weston said there had been drugs and dead bodies to clean up, and though I’d never done either it didn’t sound like a good time. Not to mention, I was a tad bit worried that Weston and the guys would get in trouble—for the dead bodies. I would never be able to live with myself if something happened to them because I’d gotten myself into a bind.
“Babe?” Weston called from the other side of the closed door.
I was in the bathroom getting ready. Thankfully I was not the type of woman who wore makeup because yesterday during our shopping extravaganza we’d only picked up clothes. Ditto on hair products. It was a good thing I didn’t gunk up my hair or do anything special because I had none of those either.
Weston's Treasure Page 8
