Sell Your Soul (Body & Soul Book 3)

by Rochelle Paige

  He’d even gone as far as to promise he’d find a way to get to me if I needed him. His green eyes had shone with such honesty and heartfelt regret that I believed every word. It wasn’t until after nine months and no response to any of my numerous messages that I was finally ready to accept defeat, even while a tiny part of my heart held on to the hope that he’d walk through the door and be with me for the birth of our child.

  “I’m not sure you can kick that high, but I’d love for you to have the chance,” I panted.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she murmured. “I do, too. I really do. I’d give anything to be out there in the waiting room if it meant he was here to help you through this.”

  I squeezed her hand tighter as another contraction hit, making her wince in pain. “Yeah, because then it would be his fingers I’d be breaking, instead of yours.”

  “You know that’s not it, but a little less crushing of my bones would be appreciated. I may need that hand later.”

  She waggled her eyebrows, acting like a goof in her ongoing efforts to make my labor and delivery easier on me. I tried to unclench my fingers, but the pain made it difficult. Breathing through it wasn’t doing me a whole lot of good, but I’d insisted on trying to do this without an epidural because I tended to react weird to pain relievers.

  “Remember what the Lamaze instructor said, try to find your happy place,” she reminded me. She widened her eyes and tilted her lips up at the corners as she used the phrase which had made us giggle each and every time the instructor said it.

  Closing my eyes, I let my mind drift and found myself remembering my time with Weston. It seemed appropriate since he was the only man to ever get me to my happy place.

  “Aspen.” The sound of his husky voice whispering my name into my ear sent shivers down my spine.

  Goosebumps pebbled along my skin, and my cheeks were warm enough for me to know I was blushing. “Weston?”

  He stood from his chair, and I immediately felt the loss of his warmth at my side. “Come with me.”

  He lifted one hand, palm up, and I slid mine into it without question. I offered Macy a quick thumbs-up sign with the other as he practically dragged me from the club. The cab ride to his hotel was spent with me in his lap while he devoured my mouth with passionate kisses. We weren’t alone in the elevator ride up, but that didn’t stop him from pulling me against his body and nibbling at my neck while his fingers toyed with the edge of my skirt.

  By the time we made it through the hotel room door, my panties were soaked—something Weston quickly discovered when he backed me up against the wall, hiked my skirt around my waist, and buried his mouth between my legs. His breath was hot against me, making me whimper.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he said, pulling the fabric aside and dragging his tongue up my center. “I’ve got you, beautiful.”

  When he circled my clit and I felt the tip of his finger press against me, my world exploded. “Weston!”

  “So tight,” he groaned, working his finger farther into me. “Can’t wait to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me.”

  He pulled his finger out and stuck it into his mouth, moaning as he sucked on it. It was still damp when he clasped my face between his hands and kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips, but it was quickly overpowered by a rich flavor that was all his own.

  I was dizzy, and we were both gasping for breath when he ended the kiss. Then he lifted me up, his hands under my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the king sized bed and twisted so he fell onto his back with me on top of him.

  Shoving my shirt over my head, he flicked my bra open and let it fall from my shoulders. My back arched when he squeezed my tits together and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth. Switching his attention from side to side, he quickly built me up again as I writhed on top of him.

  “More,” I moaned. “I need more, Weston.”

  “You need more? I’ll fucking give it to you,” he growled against my lips, his fingers tugging my skirt down. Rising up on my knees, I wiggled until it slid to the mattress and I could kick it away, along with my panties. While he was pulling his shirt over his head, I got to work on his belt and tugged his pants down his legs, taking his boxers with them.

  He yanked a condom from his pocket before tossing his pants to the floor on the steadily building pile of clothes. My eyes were torn between the sight of his hand as he stroked his hardened length and the taut muscles of his chest, covered in dark ink. Then the battle for my attention ended when he rolled a condom into place and wrapped his hands around my waist to lift me up until I hovered over his erection.

  My palms went to his chest for balance, and I enjoyed the feel of his smooth skin, my fingers tracing over the tattoos beneath them. Leaning down, I kissed him softly before making a plea. “Go slow. It’s been a long time.” A really, really long time, since the awkward night I’d lost my virginity to a fumbling teenager in the backseat of a limo after prom.

  With one hand wrapped around his cock, he guided himself into me, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside.

  “You’re so damn tight, beautiful. Your pussy feels like it was fucking made for me.”

  He was all the way in, my pelvis flush against his, and I felt every inch of him. I reveled in the sensation for one brief moment, and it got even better when I swiveled my hips and rocked into him. He tilted his head back, his heated eyes locked on mine, and power rushed through my veins. He was already close to the edge, and I’d taken him there. Bending lower, I nibbled a trail up his neck to his ear.

  “That’s because it’s yours.”

  “Fuck!” he yelled, losing control. He flipped us over, my heels digging into the mattress as he hammered into me until his name was ripped from my lips. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he moaned, his hips pumping a few more times before he found his pleasure.

  We’d spent the rest of the weekend together, somehow managing to top the best sex of my life many times over. But my favorite moments were those when we were cuddled in bed. I could have happily spent the rest of my life in that hotel bed with him, but reality too quickly intruded.

  “I’m going to need you to start pushing on the next contraction,” the doctor instructed, pulling me from my memories.

  “You can do this,” Macy encouraged, lending me her strength as she stared into my eyes.

  My gaze drifted away from her and locked on the door. I was still staring at it when the next contraction hit and I started to push. My eyes remained glued to that damn door for the next two hours of labor as I pushed my baby boy into the world. It wasn’t until I heard his cry fill the room that I finally looked away.

  Giving birth to our beautiful baby boy without Weston meant he’d broken his promise to me. I loved my best friend, and she’d done an amazing job as my birthing coach. But she wasn’t the person I’d needed with all my heart. She wasn’t Weston.

  It was finally time for me to accept the reality of my situation and give up the hopes and dreams I’d weaved around him. He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. I needed to look ahead to my future. I had a precious baby to raise—a treasured gift from the man who’d stolen my heart and smashed it to pieces.

  Chapter 1

  Weston

  “Welcome back, Weston.” I looked up from the paperwork on my desk to see Kat, my handler, standing next to my desk. I lifted my chin in greeting. Her eyes flickered up and down my body, and I felt like there was something odd in her expression. Then again, I knew what she was seeing.

  My hair was buzzed along the sides but left just a little too long on the top. A small silver hoop winked from my right ear lobe, and scruff covered the bottom half of my face, like always. It didn’t matter if I shaved in the morning. She couldn’t see most of it under my dress shirt and suit coat, but my arms, hands, chest, and back were covered in ink and with my height and muscular build, it was pretty common for people to fear me. I looked like one badass motherfucker.

  I was also one hell o
f a shot, a decent boxer, and could out drink most men. Most people would never guess that I was born into a wealthy family, had a degree from Harvard, and was worth millions.

  The Company took full advantage of my look and skills, sending me on the most dangerous missions in the seedy underbellies of the world. It wasn’t until this last mission that I began to question how long my life expectancy really was if I kept up with these jobs.

  “Hey, Kat. I’m about to head to my meeting, just grabbing my reports.” I shook my head as I shuffled through them again. “A year undercover on one fucking assignment, you’d think The Company could streamline it down to one.”

  She snickered and stepped back when I stood, grabbing my bag and coat. I was beat, I hadn’t even been home yet, instead coming straight to the office for my assignment debrief.

  I stuck my hands in the pockets of my slacks as we walked, a question rolling around in my head. It was ridiculous to ask. It had been a year of silence, but somehow, I still couldn’t help holding out a spark of hope. “Have there been any messages to that dummy email I set up?”

  Kat threw me a look of sympathy and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Wes. Nothing.”

  A flash annoyance streaked through me at her use of the nickname. I fucking hated being called Wes, but it wasn’t worth correcting her, she’d just keep using it. I pushed the irritation aside and got back to my original question.

  “You checked to make sure it was working?” I drilled her with a no-nonsense stare. Her lips turned down into a pout, and I checked the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Of course I did. I sent several test emails. It’s hard enough being undercover, I wanted to make sure you weren’t completely cut off from everyone but me.” We reached the conference room door and she smiled before stepping inside. I waited for a moment, trying to get a grip on my disappointment. In lieu of putting my fist through the wall in front of me, I mentally pounded on my head, trying to dislodge any remaining emotions toward Aspen Kennedy. It didn’t work. She’d turned me into a fucking pussy.

  I sighed and went in, taking a seat across the table from my superior. I spent the next three hours going over every detail of every report I’d written about my assignment. By the time we were done, I was dead on my feet. I grabbed a cab to my Georgetown apartment, barely noticing all of the stately scenery that made up Washington D.C. Instead, thoughts of Aspen filled my head, no matter how hard I tried to avoid them. When I finally fell into bed, I didn’t have the energy to fight them any longer and I was swamped in her memory.

  Before this last mission, I’d stopped in Atlanta to see my baby sister, Jenna. We’d grown up there and while I’d gone to Georgetown University in D.C., she’d stayed close to home, even though our parents had retired to Florida. I had intended to spend the whole week with her, but Friday night, I’d gone to a bar with my best friend, Xander, and everything changed.

  That was where I met her. She was sitting at the bar, her back facing me so that my first glimpse of her was long, wavy blonde hair, curvy hips, and a round, luscious ass. Then she turned slightly to her left, leaning in to hear the woman sitting next to her. I was struck speechless by a classically beautiful profile, spectacular tits, and a pair of endless legs. Legs that were practically naked due to the fucking scrap of fabric that could only generously be referred to as a skirt. I’d felt a possessive growl rumbling in my throat and immediately headed her way.

  My attention was stolen from her stems when she threw her head back and laughed. Speechless didn’t cover what I felt at that moment. I didn’t realize it at the time, but by the end of the weekend, I knew, that was the moment I fell in love.

  When I reached her side, the little redhead she was obviously with smiled brightly, winked at me, and swiveled her stool to strike up conversation with the person on her other side. I immediately liked her.

  My beautiful blonde turned around and her rich, brown eyes locked onto mine. I started to extend my hand for a shake but before I knew it, I’d cupped her face and was laying a firm kiss on her plump, rosy lips. To my surprise, she immediately melted into me.

  Sparks flew between us, and I felt every single one shoot straight to my rapidly hardening cock. My skin sizzled everywhere we touched and I was quickly becoming desperate for her. I wanted her underneath me, on top of me, bent over in front of me. But along with the blazing desire to fuck her, I felt a need to know her.

  When I finally pulled back, she looked a little dazed, then a grin stole across her face. I knew I should say something, but her smile practically knocked me on my ass. This girl was everything my dreams were made of. And, somehow I knew, the beauty on the inside would match that of the outside.

  “While that was probably the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life”—I might have puffed up like a fucking peacock. See? Pussy—“I think we should at least know each other’s name before we end up in another lip lock.”

  I chuckled, sliding my hands from her face, down her neck, circling her throat. “Weston Davis,” I murmured. I stole another quick kiss. “Okay, your turn.”

  She laughed and warmth bloomed in my chest. “Aspen Kennedy.” Even her name was gorgeous. Though, Aspen Davis had a nicer ring to it. The thought had come out of fucking nowhere and for the umpteenth time that night, I was stunned by the situation. However, it only took another touch of our mouths for me to accept it. Yeah, this girl was going to rock the name Aspen Davis.

  I got us both drinks and led her to a table where we talked for over an hour until I was out of patience. I stood and asked her to come with me. She’d taken my hand and when she got up, I tucked her into my side. She was average height, but I still towered over her in her sparkly, silver flats. Perfect. She was fucking perfect.

  By the end of the night, when she was naked, cuddled up in my arms, and fast asleep, I quietly called my sister and begged her forgiveness. The rest of the weekend was devoted to Aspen and when Monday arrived, I’d never hated my job more.

  There wasn’t much I could tell her, but I gave her an email address so she could get in touch with me, and Kat was the link between the email and me. Aspen rode with me to the airport and I held her until the very last minute. Right then, I knew that was going to be my last assignment as a field operative.

  For the next twelve months, I anticipated every opportunity I had to pick up communications from my dead drops. Every time, I expected to see something from Aspen, but it never came. I went through cycles of anger, disappointment, and even wondered if I’d imagined the connection between us.

  Now I was home and confident it hadn’t been an illusion but torn as to whether I should pursue her and force her to face it. She obviously didn’t want to hear from me. That was just too fucking bad. Questioning myself wasn’t my style, I needed to man up and end this bullshit.

  I’d made a decision. Aspen was mine, and I wasn’t letting her go without a fight. No, fuck that. I wasn’t letting her go at all.

  I finally fell asleep, but as usual, I woke up in a sweat, on the verge of coming from dreams of our time together. And, like most mornings, I took a frigid fucking shower to cool myself off.

  I called a friend at the agency and had them look her up for me. Since I was already packed, all I had to do was swap out my clothes and I was ready to go. I took off for the airport and bought a ticket on the first flight to Atlanta. I didn’t want to take the time to drive or ride my bike, so I booked an SUV, a rental car that could comfortably accommodate my size. I kept another chopper at my sister’s house anyway. Once I arrived, I picked up my rental and checked into my hotel. Then I quickly dropped my stuff on the bed and jogged back out to my rental. Suppressing my nerves, I drove the thirty minutes out to the suburb where she lived.

  As I pulled into a parking stall in front of a newer, brick apartment building, my hands clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. My body was already tense, sensing her nearness and begging to be inside her again. I climbed out of the SUV, my heart thumping, and I vaguely wo
ndered if it was as loud to others as it was in my head.

  I locked the car and approached the building equally as eager as I was anxious, but predominantly, determined. Her apartment was on the second floor, up a set of stairs and down a covered, outdoor walkway. Each residence had their own entry directly to the outside, rather than being in an enclosed building.

  Coming to a halt in front of a shiny black door with 212 painted in gold, I took a deep breath in and a slow exhale out. Then I knocked on the door.

  Half a beat later, I heard rustling on the other side and then the click of the lock sliding out of the mechanism. This time, I held my breath as the door swung open. The oxygen locked in my lungs the moment I finally laid eyes on my woman. Damn, she was even more fucking stunning than I remembered. My eyes drank her in, starting at her bare feet and pale pink painted toes, up and up, over every luscious curve, until I was once again gazing into deep brown eyes. Eyes filled with shock and her rosy lips forming a little O.

  My lungs finally released and I stepped forward, dragging her into my arms and kissing the fuck out of her. She went lax, sinking into me, and I took advantage of her open mouth to sweep my tongue inside. She tasted like sugar and her scent wrapped itself around me, reminding me of tart apples and cinnamon.

  “I missed you so fucking much, beautiful,” I mumbled against her lips.

  Her hands were clutching my biceps, then slid up, over my shoulders and down to rest on my chest. I was just about to swing her up into my embrace when suddenly, she shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, but regained my senses rapidly enough to slam my hand against the door as she attempted to swing it shut. What the fuck?