Until July

by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  “Hey.” I smile, and his eyes narrow before he steps inside the office and shuts the door.

  “Lose the clothes.”

  At his words, my body jumps and I whisper, “What?”

  “Take off your clothes, ’cause if I do it, I can’t guarantee you’ll have anything to wear home.”

  “Wes—”

  “Now, July.”

  “I may have a client.”

  “You don’t I made sure.”

  My hands go to my jacket and I slip it off my shoulders then pull my shirt off over my head. As I remove my clothes with shaky fingers, he moves the stuff on my desk, setting it aside before taking off his jacket and tossing it onto my chair. Knowing what is going to happen—or thinking I know what’s going to happen—is causing wetness to form between my legs and my breathing to pick up.

  I stand there naked, and Wes’ eyes move hungrily over me before he growls,

  “Come here. I want your tits to the desk and your hands above your head.”

  “Wes—” I try again.

  “No more talking; just do it.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek for just a moment before stepping around to the side of my desk, bending over the side, and inhaling a sharp breath as my nipples touch the cool wood.

  “Hands all the way up,” he orders. I slide my hands out above me until I’m almost on my tiptoes. “Do you know why I’m pissed?” he asks, stepping up behind me, the feel of the denim of his jeans rubbing against my bare skin.

  “Yes,” I say, and his hand slides over my ass, his boot-covered foot spreading mine farther apart.

  “Do you think you deserve to be punished for going behind my back, ordering a bed, having it delivered, and telling them they had to take away the old one or you wouldn’t pay?”

  “No,” I tell him honestly.

  “Figured you’d feel that way.” He bent over me, nipping my ear. “You gonna apologize?”

  “Sorry,” I tell him, squeezing my eyes closed as his hand slides over my clit, then cry out as that same hand comes down hard on my ass.

  “That didn’t sound sincere, baby,” he admonishes, placing that hand back between my legs. Each pass over my clit causes my back to arch and my ass to press into his groin. “Now, tell me you’re sorry again.”

  “I’m sorry about the bed,” I say, and his fingers slide inside me, out and around my clit, and then back in deep. His other hand slides under me, cups my breast, and pulls at my nipple.

  “You’re soaked, baby. You like pissing me off. Does it make you hot?” he asks against my ear, making me whimper. Then his hand moves from between my legs again, spanking me harder than the last time.

  “N-no,” I stutter out, needing just a little more. My body is on fire, every inch of me just waiting to see what he’ll do next.

  “Your pussy’s so hungry you’d think I wasn’t feeding it everyday,” he tells me as my core tightens around his fingers entering me. He then steps back and orders, “Up.” Confused, I look over my shoulder at him and swallow when I see the look in his eyes. “Up on your knees, baby.”

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this in my office, even if my office is down at the end of the hall, too far away for anyone to hear anything.

  “Up, baby,” he says a little softer, and I lift one knee then the other onto the desktop, and then look over my shoulder at him.

  His eyes travel from my gaze, over the curve of my back and ass, and then lock between my legs. “I wish you could see what I see right now. Wish you could see how fucking hot you look, how wet and swollen your pussy is for me…for my touch.” He shakes his head, puts his hands behind his neck, and pulls off his shirt.

  I lick my lip as his abs flex, and the outline of his cock in his jeans is so large that I know when he unhooks the buttons, the head will be red and angry, the veins down the length so pronounced when he slides inside me I swear I can feel each of them.

  He steps back behind me and I lower my head, waiting to see what he will do. His hands go to my ass and lifts, and then I feel the wet warmth of his tongue sliding over me.

  “Wes,” I whimper as I feel my arms shake while attempting to hold myself up.

  “Easy, baby.” He licks again then swirls his tongue around. I feel his thumbs holding me open to him, bringing me closer and closer, and then my arms give out and my head lowers when my orgasm crashes over me. It takes a moment to come back to myself, but when I do, he’s entering me swiftly in a hard, fast thrust.

  I push back on him each time then lift up on my hands as my knees start to slide farther apart. My legs start to shake as his hand comes down hard on my ass, and then whimper as he flips me to my back and reenters me, one hand going to my thigh, the other going down my stomach, his thumb pressing against my clit.

  “Oh, God!” I cry, my head tilting back, my hands going to my breasts, pulling my nipples.

  “Give me your eyes.” My head tilts down again and our gaze connects. Then his eyes travel down my body from my hands on my breasts to our connection, and his thumb swirls faster as he bends forward, puts his hand behind my head, lifts me up to him, and takes my mouth in a deep kiss, his taste and mine flooding my mouth. My hands move to his shoulders, clutching at him as my legs wrap tighter around his hips.

  “Squeeze me, baby.”

  I do without needing to be told as my core convulses around him with my orgasm, pulling him even deeper. His hips jerk and he plants himself deep, groaning his orgasm into the skin of my throat as my limbs lock tight around him.

  “I’m going to buy you a bed everyday,” I say with a smile, and I feel his body shake against mine, letting me know he’s laughing.

  “You’re a pain in the ass, baby.” He pulls his face away from my neck and moves some hair out of my face. “Don’t do that shit again.”

  I press my lips together to avoid telling him I won’t, because it’s already done; there is no need to buy another bed for his room at the compound. We don’t stay there often, but when we do, I don’t want to think about who was there before me. I can’t handle that.

  “I love you…only you,” he says, reading my face. “My future will be with you. Nothing before you matters.” Tears fill my eyes and I turn my head to the side to avoid his gaze while crying. But Wes, being Wes, places his hand on my cheek, pulling my attention back to him. “No crying.” He wipes my tears and I nod, but still, the tears fall.

  He slides out, fixes his jeans, and then gathers me into his arms and turns to sit on my desk, with his arms tight around me. I don’t even know why I’m crying…probably the stress and excitement of everything that has happened. “I hate when you cry, baby,” he says softly, and my face presses into his neck for a moment, taking in a deep lungful of his scent before tilting my head back to look at him. His fingers run under my eyes and he searches my face. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, a lot has happened and I think I just needed to cry.”

  “You happy?” he questions, and that has me searching his face, seeing worry in his eyes. I never want him to worry about my feelings for him.

  “When I was little, I told myself the guy I would marry would love to ride motorcycles, have a soft spot for animals, and be strong like my dad.” I place my hand on his stubble-covered jaw and run my thumb over his bottom lip. “When I got older, I never believed I would find a guy like that. Then you chased me down on your motorcycle and gave me everything I could ever want. So, no, I’m not happy; I surpassed that the first time you looked at me like I was something you wanted to devour and protect, all at the same time.”

  “Jesus,” he whispers, looking into my eyes before pulling me closer and tucking my face into his neck. “Never wanted much, babe, but knew the moment I looked into your eyes that I wanted you. Just didn’t think I’d ever have a shot. I promise I’ll find a way to make myself worthy of you.”

  “You’re my everything,” I tell him, then look at the clock and slide ou
t of his arms to stand in front of him. “Sorry about the bed, but I’m not taking it back.”

  “Let me know what it cost and I’ll give you the money for it.”

  “Why?” I frown, going to my chair and pulling on my panties then putting on my bra.

  “Just tell me the cost,” he says a little more firmly. “We won’t talk about it now, but I also need to know the house cost, so I can give you that. Then we’ll figure out the bills and shit, so we can get that worked out.”

  “I told you I own my house.”

  “I know that, baby, but I’m not going to be living there free and clear, knowing you paid for it and I didn’t do my part.”

  “I thought we were getting married.”

  “We are,” he says immediately.

  “Then what does it matter?”

  “It matters, because you’re not my mother; you’re my woman, and it’s my job to take care of you,” he says, but I’m still completely lost. I mean, I know whenever we go out he doesn’t let me pay, not even for groceries, and I’m fine with that—not that I have a choice—but this is a house I paid for already, so getting money back on it, when that money would just go into an account, doesn’t make sense to me. “I’m not loaded, baby, but I have money saved from the service, and work at the shop is good. I need to know that I do my part.”

  I can tell by his tone that he is serious and this means something to him, so I just nod while putting on my shirt. Once I have it on, I go to him and place my hands on his thighs. “We’ll get it worked out.”

  “Appreciate that, baby. You got anymore patients today?”

  “A couple.”

  “I gotta head back to the shop, but call when you’re on your way home and we’ll figure out dinner.”

  “Sounds good.” I smile, leaning in and pressing my mouth to his.

  “How much shit is your girl going to talk when I leave?”

  That comment gets him a full smile as I mumble, “Tons.”

  “Figured.” He smiles back and waits until I have on my pants and shoes before opening the door. I walk him out hand-in-hand, past a smiling Kayan, who laughs her, “Later, Wes.” He doesn’t reply, just gives her a chin lift and me a touch from his mouth before leaving through the glass doors.

  “Maybe I should buy Z a bed,” Kayan says as soon as the door closes behind Wes. I look at her and roll my eyes.

  “What? You’re not the only one with a scary-hot guy,” she mutters.

  “How are things with you and Z?”

  “Great between us. My parents are still being dumb, and I think my dad may end up murdered if he tells one more guy to ask me out.”

  “He’s doing that while you’re pregnant?”

  “Yeah, and Z is about to have a coronary because of it.”

  “I bet he is.” Knowing Z and how protective he is over Kayan, I can’t imagine he’s even a little okay with what her dad is doing. Hell, if my dad was doing that to Wes and me, I’m pretty sure Wes would kill him.

  “Last week, he asked Mark to call me and ask me to dinner. Z was there when I got the call, and spoke to Mark. He explained that even though my dad didn’t want to believe I’m in a relationship, I’m very much taken and pregnant, and surprisingly, Z was very nice to him and asked if he could spread the word to anyone else he knows who might hear the same thing from my father. Mark agreed that he would and told us congrats on the baby.”

  “Your dad is an asshole.”

  “I know.” I see tears fill her eyes, so I walk around the counter and hug her. “Z is perfect, amazing actually, and I worry this is going to push him away.”

  “He loves you, honey, and I have a feeling there is nothing that would ever keep Z away.” And that was the truth. Even Kayan’s overbearing parents were no match for Z, who had found a woman to spend his life with. “You’re not allowed to cry. You know Z freaks out when you cry,” I remind her.

  “Z’s not here right now.”

  “No, but like a damn dog, I swear he can smell when you’ve been upset, and I would rather not give him a reason to be pissed off at me.”

  “You’re right,” she agrees, and I pull out a couple of tissues and hand them to her while rubbing her back.

  “It will all work out. When the baby gets here, I bet they change their tune.”

  “If they don’t stop what they’re doing, I won’t let them see the baby.”

  “Really?” I ask surprised, not that Kayan has ever been really afraid of her parents, but they have been known to push her into things she really didn’t want to do.

  “Really. Z’s the man I’m going to marry one day, and he will be the father of our children. He deserves respect, much more than they have given him, and if that doesn’t change, I won’t be allowing them to see our baby.”

  “You know, I think if you tell them that, they might come around a little quicker than you think,” I tell her.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “How could anyone not want to be a part of your baby’s life?”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “’Cause I’m the smart friend.”

  “Whatever, that just means I’m the hot one.” She shrugs, making me laugh before I head back to my office.

  *

  I look at the clock, see it’s midnight, roll over, grab Wes’ gift from under my side of the bed, and sit up. I turn on my bedside light then look at Wes, who is sleeping with his hand, which was wrapped around my waist, now over my thighs.

  I run my hand over his hair, and his eyes open slowly and he looks up at me, looking sleepy and confused.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Merry Christmas.” I smile and he double blinks.

  His eyebrows come together and he looks over me, glancing at the clock, then smiles as he lifts up and kisses me, saying, “Merry Christmas, baby,” against my lips.

  “Here you go.” I hand him the box I have been holding onto for weeks, but then I want to take it back and rip the paper off for him when he just looks at it. “I know technically we open gifts tomorrow, but I just can wait any longer,” I tell him excitedly. He sits up completely, the sheet landing at his waist, so the expanse of his chest is visible. I turn towards him, sitting on my calves with my knees tucked against his thigh. “Please, open it.” I bounce a little, which makes his eyes drop to my breasts, which are not covered, since after he made love to me, I didn’t take the time to put anything on.

  “Not sure I can focus on this with your tits bouncing in my face,” he says, and I roll my eyes, pulling the sheet up to cover my chest. “Should have kept my mouth shut,” he mutters, and I cry, “Open the box!” which makes him laugh.

  He pulls my face to his with a hand wrapped around my nape, and then he lets me go and drops his eyes to the box, ripping the paper off slowly. Finally, he opens the top of the box, moving the tissue paper out of the way and pulling out the leather wallet I had designed for him. When asked what he wanted for Christmas, he would repeat over and over that he wanted me in a bow, naked in bed, waiting for him. Since he could have that any day of the year, I gave up on asking him, and actually gave up on finding him anything at all until I was talking to my Aunt Liz, and she told me about a shop in town where the guy custom made silver jewelry and leather goods. So I talked him about what I wanted, and a little about our story, and he created a piece of art that Wes could carry with him always and add things to it as time went on.

  “Jesus,” he whispers, and I bite my bottom lip, watching the way his fingers travel over the designs in the leather, which if you’re not looking closely, you would miss. I chose things I felt repressed us: the Taser and bird from the first time we met, the motorcycle that is a huge part of our lives and who he is, and then on the back, his name, Silver, in the shape of a motorcycle, and on the end, where the medal hook is that holds his chain, is the date he asked me to marry him.

  “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to carry it—”

  I’m cut off when his
mouth crashes down on mine and he rips the sheet away, pulling me over to straddle his lap. The feel of his tongue and his taste work through my system as he adjusts me slightly, filling me with him. I rock against him slowly, wrapping my arms more tightly around him, our mouths never leaving the other as he brings me to a slow orgasm that doesn’t explode, but burns, feeling like it never ends. Tears spring from my eyes and I taste salt in our kiss as his orgasm slides down my throat.

  When he leans his head back, his hands hold my face gently and he whispers, “I love you, babe.”

  “I know,” I reply, because I do know; I feel it all the time. Even when we’re apart, I feel it.

  “Gonna carry it always,” he says while wiping away another stray tear, and I know he’s talking about more than just the wallet. He’s also talking about the love and connection we have. I cuddle closer to him as he leans over with us still connected and turns off the light, and then he adjusts us, with me still on top of him, him still deep inside of me as he pulls the covers over us. He rubs my back for a long time while I listen to the sound of his breath. When it evens out, I follow him off to sleep.

  *

  “You’re glowing,” my mom says, walking up to me and wrapping her arm around my waist.

  “I’m happy.” I smile at her and wrap my arm around her. I lean my head on her shoulder and look at my family and Wes, who are all sitting in my parents’ living room, talking and laughing. When we got up this morning, we fed Capone and Juice then sat around our Christmas tree and opened the gifts we had gotten one another. Wes got me a beautiful gold necklace that is an exact replica of his dog tag he wears, just smaller. The small metal plate has the same information his dog tag carries, but unless you flip it over, you would never know it is just for me. He will always be pressed to my skin, the same way he’s wrapped around my heart.