Like a cat seeking forgiveness, I nuzzle my cheek against his shoulder, still ashamed about how I left things last night. I was so out of it; I didn’t even think to help him finish. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was taken care of after I carried you to bed.”
“How?” Oh, my shit. I can’t believe I’m asking him this. Call me crazy, but I’m nosy. I wanna know.
His thumb stops stroking my hand. “How, what?”
“How’d you finish?”
I want to ask if he tugged it in the shower, or maybe in bed. Perhaps he watched porn? Or did he go off memory? Oooo … It’s so bad, but I love when a guy jacks himself. There’s something so sexy about it. A few months back, I asked Toa to masturbate in front of me while Price and another one of the brothers double teamed my ass and pussy. It was out of this world hot. I came like a freight train.
I grin. Ah … Good times. Good times.
Shifting on the bench, Wes begins to rub the back of his neck. Uh oh, something tells me I’m not gonna like what he has to say. Fuck.
I brace.
“Amanda came over, and we went into my sex suite by the garage. She did all of those dirty things she promised, and then some.”
What? I can’t believe it. Why her? Why last night? Why … why … what the hell? And in a sex suite? Since when does Wes have a sex suite? How come nobody told me about this place? What the ever loving fuck?
A big fat ball of jealousy lodges in my throat as my stomach lurches, wanting to puke at the thought of him with her. Why does it bother me so much? I don’t get it. I’ve never gotten like this … jealous. There’s no other name for it. Since when did I start caring for Wes enough to even feel jealous to begin with? How could I have let this happen? This isn’t good. Kelly … I’ve always had a few ounces of jealousy when it pertains to her, or anyone Nash is with. I’ve accepted that. But not Wes, too. What is wrong with me? Damn it.
“You fucked Amanda after all of that happened?” The phase ‘how could you?’ tosses around in my brain like a salad, but I keep it to myself. It’s too possessive. Too much of something that I shouldn’t be feeling to begin with.
More neck rubbing continues. “No. I didn’t … um … fuck her.” Nervously, his voice waivers.
“Then what the hell are you talking about?”
“She fucked me,” he blurts.
Huh? Like she rode him?
“What?” I nearly shout.
“Fucked me. She. Fucked. Me. You’re not the only one with kinks, Kitten. On, you know, special occasions, I like to be pegged. And last night, after all that friction, my dick was too sore to stroke. So … yeah…”
Hold on … huh?
“What the hell is pegged?”
“Fucked in the ass by a strap-on. The male g-spot is a powerful thing. Only stupid men don’t take advantage of its perks.” He sounds like an infomercial.
“So Amanda came over, put on a strap-on, and then fucked you while Garrett and I were asleep in the same house?” My anger and jealousy are going head-to-head at this point. I can’t tell which is winning out.
Wes’s voice cracks a “Yes.”
“I can’t … I can’t believe it!”
“Calm down, Kitten. We’re outside,” Wes tries to reason. Yet, all I can feel is my adrenaline surging, as my mind conjures some dirty little scene where Wes is on a white bed, resting on all fours while Amanda pumps a blue dildo in and out of his sexy ass. Why it’s blue, and he’s on all fours, I don’t know, but that’s how I see it.
Blinking rapidly, I scrub that disturbing image from my brain. “No. I can’t calm down. I can’t believe you did that.”
“Hey.” He’s defensive. “It’s perfectly normal for a guy to like his prostate played with.”
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t give a shit if you like a dildo up your ass or not. I like anal sex, too. So why shouldn’t you? And I’m the chick who just told you she likes to be gang banged by a bunch of bikers. I’m the last person to judge you on whatever kink you’ve got goin’ on.”
Gently, he resumes stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “Then what’s the problem?”
I can’t withhold the truth when I shout, “Amanda!”
“What about her?”
“Why didn’t you use Candi? She’s at least nice. Amanda wants to have your babies. She’s possessive. And, I don’t like her. Hell, if you needed a dildo fuck, you coulda woke me up. I’m sure I could pound an ass damn well.” My eyes shoot wide when I realize I just said that last part aloud. A level of mortification I’ve never felt before settles with the lump of jealousy in my throat. “Oh, my god. I can’t believe I said that. I’m soooo sorry. It’s none of my business.” I speak fast, trying to pull away from Wes. However, he’s having none of it when he grabs my knees to keep me curled next to him.
Refusing to let go, Wes laughs. “It’s fine, Kitten. And thanks for the offer. It’s nice to know that if I need a good pounding that you’re up for the job.”
Somebody kill me now.
Overcome by embarrassment, I bury my reddened face in his shoulder. “I lied. I’d be a terrible ass pounder. I’ve never even touched a prostate in my life. I wouldn’t know the first thing about them. I’d be like a dead fish, lying there with a fake cock strapped to me. You’d have to do all the work.” Jesus! Why can’t I shut up? This word vomit has got to stop. Duct tape would come in handy right about now. Hell, I’d use it on myself.
“Calm yourself. I was kidding.”
Thank the Lord.
Blowing a relieved breath, I try to heed his words and calm myself. “Oh. Okay. Great. But I’m serious about Amanda.” I’d much rather focus on her, instead of the fact that I just offered to fuck Wes’s ass with a strap-on. Shit, I still can’t believe I said that.
“That you don’t like her,” he remarks.
“Not just that. But that rest about her, too. She’s bad news. And not the good kind of bad, either. Bad, bad.”
“Duly noted. Thanks for looking out for me.”
Great. Now he’s amused.
Tugging my hand from his, I cross my arms over my chest. Then I turn even more so that my legs drape over Wes’s and we’re talking face to face. I look him straight in the eye. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He taps the end of my nose like I'm adorable. I want to bite his finger off. “It’s cute that you care as much as ya do. But Amanda never has, and will never be anything more than a contracted employee.”
Challenging him, I raise a brow. “Does she know that?”
“Yeah. Why?”
In the distance, my eyes lock on their target that’s about fifty yards away and headed toward us. “Because here she comes along with Candi and two other blondes. How did they know we were here, anyway?” Derision drips like honey from my lips. Internally sneering, I take in their barely-there clothes as they stroll through the grass. Why they thought it was acceptable to dress like that and come to a public park where children play is beyond me. Amanda’s jugs are heaving out of her top. Any minute now, there’ll be a nip slip.
Wes follows my line of sight, then checks his watch. “Shit. I was supposed to meet with them in my office today at four to discuss an outing they’ll be attending with me on Wednesday. It’s almost five now. I guess time kinda flew by.” He tips his head in my direction, giving me one of those charming smiles. It’s amazing how warm and gooey that face makes me feel when it’s like that. He’s the devil. Evil and sweet in equal measure. No wonder Amanda is addicted to him. If I’m not careful, I’m bound to become addicted as well.
“Am I going to this outing on Wednesday, too?” I ask.
“I planned on it. If you’re up for it.”
I nod in agreement.
Leading the pack of she-wolves, Amanda stops directly in front of us, along with the three others crowding her back. “Zoe told us you were in town. So we thought we’d drop by since you missed our meeting.”
Her bottom lip
pokes out like she’s sad about that. Then she sways her hips seductively as she steps closer, and squeezes her tiny ass between Wes’s hip and the bench’s arm. It’s a tight fit, so her body is literally sucking his. Although he doesn’t seem to mind when she lays her cutesy head on his shoulder and her hand on his inner thigh, way too close to his junk.
What a fucking bitch. If this isn’t her staking claim, I dunno what is. It doesn’t help that she’s ignoring me completely, acting as if I’m not even here. That I’m somehow beneath her. Obviously, Wes is clueless. This bitch may as well tattoo her name to his dick with how possessive she’s being. Why doesn’t she just piss on him, too, while she’s at it? Uh!!
Amanda whispers into Wes’s ear about something, and he chuckles his sexy, amused chuckle. That’s it. I’ve had enough of this. Peeling my legs out of Wes’s grasp, I slide off the bench to stand. “I’m going to go check on Garrett,” I comment, which is pointless because it falls on deaf ears since Wes is too taken by whatever Amanda’s saying to pay any attention to me. The corner of her eye glimmers victoriously in my direction as she smirks. Of course, this bitch knows what she’s doing, or her hand wouldn’t be moving closer to his dick as we speak. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past her to give him a blowjob right here, right now. She’s a piece of work.
Pivoting on my heel, I fling my ponytail behind my back with attitude and set off toward Garrett, who’s pushing that same little blonde on the swings. “Higher, Garrett. Higher,” she cries happily as he whips her harder. Sweat drips down the sides of his face, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Not if the giant smile he’s wearing is any indication.
I approach them, standing at the bar on the edge of the swing set. “Hey, Garrett. How are you doing?”
“Great, Ms. Gwen. I’m tryin’ to get Sammy really high.”
“Is this your daddy’s girlfriend?” the girl squeals, pumping her little legs.
“No.” Garrett’s smile dissolves for an instant before it’s back again. “My Dad has lots of girlfriends. Ms. Gwen is more special than they are. She’s my teacher and my friend.” With jerking arms, he does his best to push Sammy again. Then cuts his gaze to me. “Right, Ms. Gwen?”
Appeased by his admission, I grin softly in return. “Of course, Garrett. We’re friends, and I’m your teacher.”
His gaze drifts over my shoulder to the bench Wes, and I were seated on. “The blondes showed up, did-didn’t they?” He doesn’t sound happy about this, as his shoulder twitches.
Indifferently, I shrug, pretending to downplay their arrival. Even if it does irk the crap outta me. One day, one fucking day, I wanted to spend with Garrett and Wes alone, without the blondes tagging along. And do I get that? Nope. Of course, I don’t. They’ve been at the house constantly. Touching Wes, constantly. It’s starting to grate on my nerves. And this time, it’s not just this rare jealousy rearing its ugly head. It’s the whole dynamic. How does this affect Garrett? What is this teaching him? The boy has lived long enough without a mother. And aside from Zoe, he’s never had a motherly figure in his life. It’s sad.
Tamping down my climbing irritation, I plaster a smile on my face for Garrett’s benefit. That’s what mothers do. They fake it until they make it. Trust me. I’ve got plenty of practice with Trish. “Where’s my daddy? Why doesn’t he want to see me?” She used to ask me that question all the time. “He’s not that kind of daddy, Bug. I’m here for ya, though. I’ll be whatever ya need me to be.” Nash would reassure her. Over the years, those questions floated away, because Nash was there to love Trish as she needed. He put her hair in pigtails. He gave her butterfly kisses at night when I had to work. Went to her volleyball games when I couldn’t.
Sadly, Garrett’s never had that. It’s no secret he admires his father, and that Wes loves his son. It shines through whenever they’re around each other. They have a bond. I’m just disappointed that Garrett was never able to have that kind of relationship with his mother. And with Wes’s gaggle of blondes continuously parading around, he’s never going to get that. I wonder if Wes even dated after his wife left?
“Ms. Gwen,” Garrett calls, tearing me from my musings.
“Huh?”
“The blondes are here, aren’t they?” he reiterates, flinging his words as he steps away from pushing Sammy.
He’s getting worked up. His mannerisms are sharper now, which only happens when he’s upset. Last week, when he couldn’t read a word, he’d started these jerky movements. Then they stopped as soon as I helped him figure the words out and then gave him a big hug. Some autistic children don’t like to be touched. However, Garrett doesn’t seem to mind it. At least not from me. I’m not sure about anyone else.
“They are here.” My sickly sweet smile remains in place.
Pushing Sammy once more, Garrett runs his hands through his disheveled hair then steps away from the swing set entirely. I follow on his tail as he heads toward the parking lot.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Leaving.” He strides faster, his long legs eating up the distance, feet kicking up grass. I have to triple my speed to keep up with him. My legs aren’t nearly as long as his; not when he’s close to six feet tall.
Falling in step beside him and getting some serious cardio at the same time, I touch his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? You didn’t even say goodbye to Sammy.”
Garrett shrugs my hand off and doesn’t speak another word until we’re at the limo. Randy is magically standing by the door. Garrett climbs in first, and I’m quick on his heels.
Inside, he twitches and rocks in his seat, mumbling under his breath. His dancing eyes are unable to lock on any one fixture.
“Garrett, what’s wrong?” My concern is growing by the second.
“Nothing,” he lies.
Reaching across the seat, I take one of his hands into mine and hold it. He allows this. “What’s wrong?” I’m firmer, channeling my inner Wes.
Garrett jerks with zero control. “He-he wasn’t supposed to have them here today. He promised. I asked to get comics. I-I asked.” His free hand goes crazy, tossing his words into the air, nearly hitting the ceiling. “I asked that you come, but not his-his women. He-he said tha-that they wouldn’t come. That-that’d you.” He tries to point to me, but his hand’s flopping too much to aim true. “That you and us would have fun today. No-no one else would come. Why-why did he lie? He-he promised. He-he never breaks promises. He’s a goo-good dad. But you’re up-upset, too, that they’re here. I-I don’t like them.”
“Calm down, sweetheart.” Slipping closer, I pull him into my arms. He comes willingly and lays his head on my chest as his arms lock around my middle. Caressing his back in soothing strokes, I kiss the top of his hair. “It’s okay. Dad didn’t mean it. I promise. They showed up unannounced. He didn’t break his word. He didn’t lie. Now, I need you to take a deep breath.”
Garrett doesn’t respond, but I hear him inhale a deep lungful of air before blowing it out. A wave of calm finally settles over him. Slowly, he begins to stop twitching. The back door opens, and Wes pokes his head inside to see us embracing. An indistinguishable expression washes over his features.
“What’s going on in here?” He’s unhappy.
“You li—” Garrett starts, but I cut him off to stave off an argument.
“Garrett said you promised him no blondes today, so he got upset and came back to the limo to wait for you. But he was still distressed. So we’re trying to calm ourselves, aren’t we, Garrett?” He nods into my breasts as I continue to soothe him, refusing to let go until all of his tremors are gone.
Wes’s eyes widen as he, too, takes a seat and Randy shuts his door. Just as I figured, Wes begins to rub the back of his neck while his gaze settles upon us. “I’m sorry, Bud. I didn’t know they were coming here. I was supposed to have a meeting with them. I missed it on accident. Gwen and I got to talking and…”
“And he lost track of time. The girls came by so your dad didn’t have to
take you away from playing with Sammy,” I add for Wes, downplaying the whole thing. It’s true. He didn’t know. Although he could have sent them back to the house. He does have that authority. And he could have also told Amanda to fuck off. But, he didn’t. He spent however long over there eating up her attention. Bleck!
On the rest of the drive home, no one speaks. Garrett returns to his seat after his tremors have ended, and I stare out of the side window. Upon arrival, we each exit the limo without a word. However, as I proceed to go inside, Wes grabs hold of my forearm to stop me. His big hand is hot and heavy, grounding me.
“Come in and watch a movie with us. We can eat dinner in the living room,” he requests, stepping close enough that our toes touch. The urge to lean into him and sniff his chest, his neck, his yumminess, rides me hard, but I throttle that desire and take a hefty step backward, to give us some distance. Even if it’s only a mere foot.
Tilting my head back, I meet his gaze. “We who?”
Before Wes can reply, a fancy silver sports car pulls in behind the limo and the blondes start piling out. There’s my answer. Wes, me, Garrett, and the blondes for dinner and a movie. Nope. No thanks.
“I’d rather not.” Tugging out of his grasp, I pivot on my heels and leisurely strut to the door, so he doesn’t realize how pissy I am.
“Please, Kitten. Come and eat with us … Garrett will want you there.” He calls to my back.
My hand hovers over the door knob. That’s completely unfair, using Garrett to get what he wants. If Garrett hadn’t already escaped into the house with his comics, I would ask his opinion. Though, I already know what he’d say. He’d want me to spend time with them. To endure watching a movie with a gaggle of blondes hanging all over Wes. My stomach drops at the thought. After today and the way he touched me, the way we talked, the intimacies we shared, I … I can’t witness that. It’ll be just as bad as watching Nash shove his tongue down Kelly’s throat. At least I’ve never seen Nash get a blow job from any of his ladies. I’m pretty sure that’d kill me. Why do I have to like unavailable men? I’m an idiot.
Nowhere (Crimson Outlaws MC #1) Page 18
