by Harlow James
“Us. Together.”
“We are together,” he says, obviously not catching my drift at all.
“I mean sex, Wes,” I reply dryly as his face scrunches up. Okay, not the reaction I was anticipating.
“Shayla …”
Hurt and rejection course through me before my fiery side comes out to play. His reaction caught me off-guard, especially after the day we shared, so mine strikes fast like a match. “Do you not want me, Wes? And if you say no, I’ll just remind you of earlier on the lounge chair when I was grinding on you and you were hard as a rock.”
He pushes away from me and then drags a hand through his hair, pacing the deck as he struggles internally. And I wish I knew why. I wish he would talk to me. Even though I get a sense of who he is and he’s been forthcoming with me about things and shared glimpses of his life with me today, I still feel there’s something inside of this man that makes him cautious and resistant, like he’s outrunning a monster at every turn. And I understand those feelings more than he might grasp, but it’s hard to open up when he’s struggling too. Maybe we both need to get some things off of our chests, and if I do it first, he’ll reciprocate.
“Of course I want you, Shayla. I want you so fucking badly, it’s insane. But …”
“You scare me, Wes.”
Spinning around to face me, his eyes are still full of hesitation. “I scare you?”
“Yes. You’re exactly the kind of man that can hurt me.”
“What?”
I take a deep breath and prepare to let it all out. I can’t go further into this unless he knows just how vulnerable I’m allowing myself to be. I’m giving him that power and I’m fighting that truth, but I can’t deny it any longer.
“I don’t date. I don’t let men in, especially men like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mom dated men like she changed her underwear. A new one all the time. But it wasn’t for a lack of effort on her part. She always went for the same man—rich, good-looking, someone who made her feel special because they had chosen her. And she’s beautiful, so she never had trouble reeling them in. But it never lasted. They got bored or weren’t looking for anything more than casual, so she couldn’t make them stay, and I watched her throw herself into a depression each time one left.”
His brow is still furrowed, but he’s focused on me, so I continue. “You remind me of them. Charming, handsome, richer than sin, and more so than any of the men my mom landed, for sure. But you have the same ability to hurt me. And I’m fighting every instinct to run, to convince myself that this won’t end in catastrophic heartbreak because that’s all I’ve ever seen and swore I’d never let happen to me. But I can’t.”
“Why?” he finally croaks out.
“Because I don’t want to,” I finally admit. “I feel like I’m fighting gravity, and I think we both know that gravity is inevitable. Eventually you wind back down on earth.”
“Earth can be a shitty place sometimes,” he replies, still stirring in his thoughts.
“Yeah. But only if we let it. I don’t like to live my life thinking about the future, because so much is unknown. So I’m trying to focus on the present. And right now, all I want is to feel you buried inside of me. I’m trembling with that thought. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says with so much confliction in his voice that his next move surprises me. Like a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun, he races toward me and smashes his lips to mine, stealing my breath away just like he did with our first kiss.
But then he pulls away too soon, only to say, “But I can’t fight this any more than you can.” And then his lips are back on mine and I’m dizzy with lust.
Wes presses me against the railing of the boat, kissing me in a frenzy as the cool ocean breeze wafts over our skin and the sky grows darker by the second. Our bodies are so tightly pressed together that the friction is stoking a fire that starts to burn out of control in an instant.
With one swift move, Wes bends down and lifts me up, my legs wrapping around him instinctually before he turns and lays me down on one of the cushioned loungers, wriggling his way between my legs as he hovers over me and kisses me with so much passion I get lost in what’s happening.
He breaks the kiss and then moves his lips down my throat, dragging his tongue along my skin, nibbling on my collarbone, moving across the top of my breasts exposed in my dress. I put the same dress on from earlier, and I can feel it fall off of me as Wes unties the string at my neck and peels the fabric away, revealing my braless chest.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters while flicking his eyes up to mine.
“Touch me, Wes.”
Without saying another word, he traces the curve of my right breast with his index finger, moving in slow circles before finding my hardened peak and giving it a pinch. The move makes me gasp, but not as hard as when I feel his mouth close over my nipple and his tongue laps at the peak. The burning between my legs intensifies as I start to grind against him, searching out friction to ebb my growing arousal.
“You are so fucking sexy, Shayla.” He moves to my other breast now and as I look up to the sky, I curse the covering above us that is blocking my view of the stars starting to appear. But as Wes’s hand moves up the inside of my thigh and his fingers presses against my dampened thong, he starts to create my own stars just for me behind my eyelids.
“You’re so fucking wet already.”
“I’ve been like this all day, ever since you denied me my orgasm earlier.”
His head pops up as I prop myself up to meet his stare. “Are you sure you want to do this? You know we don’t have to.”
“I appreciate you being a gentleman, Wes. Truly. But if you don’t fuck me tonight, I might have to finish myself off and then jump back in the water to cool off.”
That strikes a laugh from him as he slowly pushes my dress up my hips, exposing my bottom half to him.
“I want to please you, Shayla. I need to,” he says with so much conviction that I don’t fight him. “I want to make you scream my name so you’ll never forget who’s making you go wild.”
“Then show me what you’ve got, Mr. Billionaire.”
His head dives down and I feel his lips press against my pussy still covered by the silk of my thong. His touch is making me tremble, struggle for air, and he hasn’t even touched me where it counts yet.
“You are intoxicating.”
“Wes, please.”
His fingers push the fabric to the side, exposing myself to him. And in one smooth move, his tongue drags through my slit, searching for my clit, flicking it with precision. I cry out from the feeling, the foreign touch that I’ve gone without for so long that I forgot how incredible it is. But part of me thinks that’s just Wes’s skills too.
“God, I could do this all night,” he growls before pushing two fingers inside of me, still drawing circles through my pussy, building my orgasm with each flick and lick.
“Don’t stop.” I reach for his head, fist his hair in my fingers, and brace myself for the pleasure that’s about to roll through me. Intense pressure builds, my heart rate and breathing quicken, my back arches, and my mind goes blank as a few more drags of Wes’s tongue have me exploding with waves of ecstasy. Wes never lets up, forcing me to ride out every tremor of pleasure until my body relaxes and he moves back up to my lips and presses his to mine.
Before I can say a word, he scoops me up and carries me down the stairs and into the house part of the boat, my body still humming from my orgasm, but eager for more.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he lays me on the bed and hovers over me.
“So good. But don’t think we’re done. We’re just getting started.”
He cracks a smile. “Oh, I agree. You probably won’t sleep tonight, just to forewarn you. But first there’s something I need to tell you.”
Well, nothing like pumping the breaks on a hot as hell moment. “Okay …”
&nb
sp; “It’s been a while for me. I’m afraid I can’t go slow. I know that once I’m inside of you, I’m going to lose control.”
Oh. Okay, that’s not terrible. In fact, bring it on, mister. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Shayla,” he starts and then closes his eyes.
“Wes,” I say, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “You can talk to me.” I gave you a huge part of my insecurities upstairs, I want to shout. Tell me what’s got your face twisted up like that.
“I can’t promise you anything. But I can’t let you go either. I want you, but what you told me earlier… I get now why you push back, why you’re hesitant to let go with me. And I have my own reasons why I’m holding back too. But I know what I want. I want you. So can we be brave together? Can we just take this one day at a time and see where it goes?” His eyes search mine for answers, but he keeps going before I can answer. “It’s been years since I felt this desire for someone. I can’t make promises, but I promise you that I wouldn’t be willing to try with anyone else.”
And with those words, half of the cage around my heart crumbles. It’s too much and not enough all at once. I want to know everything about him, and I can only hope in time that he’ll tell me. But this man is what my body and heart seem to want. So I’m going for it.
“Yes.” That’s all I can say because once that word leaves my lips, Wes’s are on them, quieting the demons and doubts with his kiss.
He stands up and reaches behind him to take off his shirt, giving me the perfect view of his tanned chest that I got up close and personal with earlier today. As his hands reach for his belt on his shorts, I grab the bottom of my dress and slide off the bed in front of him to pull it up and over my head. Tossing it to the side, I watch Wes’s hands shove his shorts down, leaving him in navy blue boxer briefs that can barely contain his hard cock straining against the fabric. I felt it earlier between my legs and instantly knew that Wes was packing some serious meat between his muscular thighs. But seeing it in front of me now, knowing that it will be inside me soon is making me itch with anticipation.
“This belly button ring,” he growls, reaching out to flick the steel bar piercing my flesh. My hands crawl up his chest as I hum with approval of what I see as well.
“This body,” I volley back.
Wes lifts me up again and tosses me on the bed as we crawl back so I can rest my head on a pillow. He pushes his cock against the juncture between my thighs as he finds my lips again with his own and we make out like a couple of sex-crazed teenagers. Frustration builds as I feel him right where I want him, but with too much fabric in the way.
“Wes, I want you.”
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
“Your cock. Now,” I command and his grin spreads as he stares down at me. He leans back, hooking his thumbs under the strings of my thong on my hips and drags the fabric down my legs as I pull my knees up, place my feet flat on the bed, and spread my thighs, giving him the perfect view of my pussy in the muted lights of the room. A mirror on the ceiling I noticed earlier gives me a preview of what he can see, and I’m instantly more turned on once I glance up and see the two of us together.
“God. This pussy.” He drags his thumb through my folds, moving my wetness around before pushing down his briefs and giving me a front row seat to the most glorious dick I’ve ever seen. Wes is thick, long, and his tip is wide, dripping with pre-cum. I reach out to touch him and he hisses at the contact.
“I love your cock.”
“You haven’t even felt it inside of you yet,” he challenges.
“Then lets change that.”
He chuckles and then jumps off the bed, heading over to a small suitcase I didn’t notice was there earlier. He extracts a strip of condoms and tears one off before throwing the rest on the bedside table.
“Glad I came prepared, even though I honestly didn’t expect this.”
“Me neither. But I’m just going with what I feel.” And this feels right.
He covers himself with the rubber and then nestles back between my legs, holding his length as he drags it through my wetness. Glancing at me one more time for consent, I nod and watch as he lines himself up and pushes in slightly.
My body resists his intrusion and struggles to accommodate his size.
“Fuck. Are you alright?”
“Yes. Just keep going.”
“You’re so fucking tight. God, you feel incredible,” he groans as he continues to pulse in and out, pushing in slightly farther each time. It takes a minute, but when I feel him slide all the way in, my breath catches in my throat as Wes tucks his face in the crook of my neck.
“Fuuuccckkkk,” he draws out as we freeze, letting each other adjust to the feeling, to the moment.
“Wes, move. Please.” I feel his hips retract, and then he’s drawing forward once more and the slide of his cock against every one of my nerve endings has me crying out.
“More.” I claw his back as he speeds up his thrusts, lifting his head now so I can see him. And his eyes are full of such raw intensity, that I can’t look away. He watches me as he fucks me, we moan together in turn, and our bodies press together until I feel that lack of control kick in and Wes pounds into me with force.
Suddenly, he pushes up, widens my legs, and then continues to punish me with his thrusts as my entire body jolts from the pressure, the pleasure, the slight twinge of pain as he hits the furthest possible spot deep inside of me.
I look up at the ceiling and watch us in the mirror—the way his massive hands stake their claim to my body, the sight of him sliding in and out of me where we’re joined, the jiggle of my breasts as he hits me at the very end of my core.
Wes realizes where I’m staring and then joins me, craning his neck back to see what I see—two people immersed in a sexual experience—and we look fucking perfect together.
“God damn. Look at us. Look at how sexy you are, Shayla. Look at my cock sliding in and out of your perfect pussy.”
I moan, loving his dirty mouth, before reaching up and grabbing my breasts, pinching my nipples as he continues to fuck me.
“Wes!”
“That’s it. Fuck, baby. It’s so good.”
“Don’t stop.”
So he picks up the pace, gripping me harder, stroking me deeper, circling his hips as he moves inside of me and ignites my orgasm with a few more strokes. And as I reach down to stroke my clit to get to the finish line, it’s his name on my lips as my body goes wild, just like he wanted.
“Shayla,” he grunts as he stills and finds his own release moments after my own.
I feel his grip free on my legs and then he falls forward, blanketing my body with his own. Both of us take a few minutes to get our breathing under control before I feel him move and push up so he can look at me.
We hold each other’s gaze, taking in what just happened as he remains joined to me.
“I’m sorry. I lost control.”
“I didn’t mind.” My hand finds his cheek again and he leans into my touch. He moves forward, presses his lips to mine ever so gently, and then pulls out of me, standing from the bed and walking to the bathroom to clean up. I let out a contented sigh, and close my eyes as I mentally drown out my giggle of excitement while I bury my face in the pillow.
Jesus Christ. That was better than I imagined.
When he comes back, he pulls back the covers and urges me to slide underneath before joining me, pulling me close to him and inhaling me as his head rests on my head.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. More than okay. That was incredible.”
“You are incredible,” he says before pressing his lips to the top of my head. And it’s another one of those simple and sweet gestures that unnerves me but makes me feel cherished. “Do you want to stay out here? The water can get kind of rocky at night. I can drive us back or we can spend the night out here. Whatever you want.”
“The last place I want to go back to is reality right now,” I mumble, pressi
ng up against him further. I burrow myself in his warmth, his broad chest, his strong arms that are encircling me. I’ve never been a cuddler, especially after sex—mostly because I don’t really do the relationship thing. Most of my arrangements were for the intention of sex only.
But there’s something about being in Wes’s arms, connected to him like this that blankets me in a warm contentment that immediately becomes addicting.
“I know.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Reality sucks.”
“So let’s stay.”
“Whatever you want.”
I rub my leg against his and feel him start to harden again. My body reacts to the idea of feeling him inside me once more and I can sense he agrees because he’s suddenly tipping my chin up and kissing me. But it’s not fierce, demanding, or controlling.
No. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you breathless and eager for what words are on the other side. The type of words that speak of forever—or ones that lead to eventual heartbreak.
Chapter 14
Wes
“So, there’s something I wanted to ask you.” I place my fork on my plate as I watch for Shayla’s reaction, my body humming with nerves.
We’re sitting at the island in the kitchen on the yacht, eating breakfast together the morning after our day on the water, preparing to head back to shore in less than an hour.
“Okay.”
I take a deep breath and then get it out. “There’s a gala I have to attend in a few weeks. It’s on a Friday, so I know you’ll need the night off from work. But… I’d love for you to accompany me.”
Her eyes widen with surprise, and I hate that her radiant smile isn’t following her reaction. “A gala? Like black ties and fancy dresses?”
I sit up taller in my seat and turn to face her, reaching for her hands—the hands that wandered all over my body last night and woke up a part of me that’s been hibernating while I got my life back together. “Yes. And the press. And my family.”
“Whoa.”
“I know it’s a lot,” I cut her off before she can say more. “And if you don’t want to go, I’d understand. But …”
