“Seven years? Really?” he asks incredulously.
I nod my head before I look at him as I savor all the flavors in my mouth. “Yeah. I know. I can’t believe it either.” After the death of my parents, I pretty much stopped doing things that we used to do together. Making and eating strawberry shortcakes were one of them. Now after this bite, I’m beginning to realize that I may have been missing out on the best parts of life.
As I finish my dessert, I turn my body toward Wes. “I know I might say this a lot, but thank you. I have never had anyone do the things you’ve done for me. Ever.”
“That’s good to know.”
“What? That I’ve never been treated like this before?”
“No. That I’m the first one who’s getting to show you how a woman is really supposed to be treated.”
Wes puts his plate down and scoots closer to me as my eyebrows arch. When I can feel his body heat close to mine, I lean in closer to him and whisper, “And how’s that exactly?”
My eyes stay locked on his. In my peripheral vision, I see his arm rise. When his calloused fingers skim across my shoulder and behind my neck only to sneak into the back of my hair at the nape of my neck, he has complete control of me. My head slowly inclines in his direction as he answers in that low husky tone that I love. “Like this.”
In the next instant, his soft, firm lips connect with mine. He grips my hair tighter and holds me to him as his tongue sweeps against my lower lip, begging for entrance. My lips part, happily obliging him. When his tongue clashes with mine, a spark of lust fires on all cylinders. My hands move up his strong arms, and my fingers commit to memory the contours of his lean muscles as I explore his body. Finally, I reach his neck. I pull him to me as I lay back on the pillows. My legs part, allowing Wes room to fall in between them. Our fast-paced breaths mix with the soft melodies of Brantley Gilbert’s Fall Into Me. I bind my arms around his neck; we continue our unhurried, sweet, passionate kisses.
My chest heaves up and down with labored breaths. Wes’ lips break from mine, and a guttural moan escapes me when I feel his tongue draw patterns down my neck to the swell of my breasts. As lust and desire engulf me, my hips lift and meet his as his hand cups my heavy breast. “Wes,” I breathe out.
“Damn, Kenleigh,” he groans against the exposed skin of my chest. “I want you so bad.” Wes pulls back, and immediately I feel the loss of his tantalizing mouth.
My eyes slowly flutter open and meet Wes’ half-lidded gaze. “Is this okay?” There is a nervousness in his tone that I’ve never heard before.
His proximity has invaded all of my senses. I’m sure there are plenty of reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this, but for some reason, this feels right. Him. Me. Us. We get along, have crazy uninhibited fun, and most of all, he makes me laugh. I like his witty sense of humor. I like that we seem the same, but, in our own ways, different. I did not expect to meet someone like him when I came down for the summer, but I’m glad that I did.
“Yes.” I thread my fingers through his hair and give it a slight tug, showing him how okay this is.
Wes’ eyes hold mine captive as he pulls back, rests on his knees, and unlocks my arms from around his neck. He doesn’t let my hands go. Instead, he helps me sit up. His thumbs caress the backs of my knuckles while he keeps his gaze focused on me. “If at any time you want to stop, you say so. I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. We’ll take this as slow as you want to take this.” The sincerity that rings through in those words makes me realize even more just how right this is.
“I appreciate it, but I’m okay with this,” I whisper.
“All right. How about we lose this then?” It’s not meant to be a question. Wes releases my hands and begins to gather the hem of my dress in his hands. I lift onto my knees and tuck them under me. Slowly, he pulls it up and over my head as I lift my arms to help him. I’m left in only my panties. There is no bra to remove since I wore a strapless dress. Self-consciousness strikes me with a vengeance. Quickly, my hands lift to cover my naked breasts, but stop midair when Wes speaks. “Please, don’t hide from me.” He repeats my words from earlier as he reaches out and pushes my arm down to my side. Wes’ gaze leaves mine to trail down my body. Goose bumps prickle my skin as he admires my half-naked body. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, his voice laced with desire and sincerity.
“No,” I whisper as I look away from his penetrating stare. He grasps my chin with his thumb and forefinger, and turns my face back to his. When our gazes meet, he leans in and mumbles against my lips, “Well, then, I’m a damn fool for not telling you. Because you are so fucking beautiful, and for as long as you’ll let me, I’ll tell you and show you every day so you never forget.”
My breath catches, and I’m left speechless with the intensity behind his words. With his lips firmly pressed to mine, I melt under his touch as he guides me onto my back. My head makes contact with the soft pillows behind me. I reach down, grasp the hem of his of brown T-shirt, and with his help, guide it over his head. Tattoos that I didn’t know he had, stare back at me. Tribal art runs along his ribs and up onto his broad muscular chest. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”
“That’s because I don’t really show them off. My family hates tattoos, but as long as I keep them hidden, they don’t say anything.”
“Well, I think they make you look fucking sexy as hell.”
A deep growl rumbles up from the back of his throat when I graze the tips of my fingers across his ink.
“Kenleigh, Baby, I don’t know how much more I can take if you keep doing that,” he replies through clenched teeth.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for telling me you think I’m sexy. I like knowing that you find me attractive.”
With nothing left to say, I pull Wes on top of me. He falls into the gap between my legs where he fits comfortably. I’m the first one to initiate the kiss as I guide his mouth to mine. Just as my lips cover his, his tongue sweeps in and fills my mouth. Our tongues lap and twist against each other in synchronized motions. Soft moans fill the air as we work ourselves into a frenzied pace. My hands sweep down his body, feeling the movement of every flex and curve of his finely shaped physique. My fingers tremble with anticipation as I reach for the button of his jeans. After two failed attempts, I finally manage to pop the button. When I release the zipper, he helps me push his pants over his nicely toned ass and legs. Not wanting to waste any more time, I try to push down his boxer briefs, but he stops me. “Why are you stopping me?” I ask, frustration evident in my tone.
“Not yet. This is a moment I definitely want to remember,” he says. “Let me make this about you. I want to take care of you. It’s time for me to show you how beautiful I think you are,” he whispers as he lays a gentle kiss against my ear. Wes kisses, nips, and sucks his way down my neck, across my collarbone, and down my chest. I watch with barely open eyes as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth.
My back arches off the bed of the truck, my head drops back, and my eyes screw tightly shut. I writhe beneath him like a wanton woman. Groans escape me from the intense pleasure of his mouth taking equal turns sucking on my puckered nipples. The tips of his fingers glide against my body, leaving a trail of fire as they skim across my skin. Every breath leaves my lungs when I feel him pull my panties to the side, and his finger makes contact with my wet, aching core. My hands fly to his shoulders; my fingers dig into the hard muscles as he slowly inserts one finger in me. He pumps his finger, not once, but twice. A slow tingle begins to form from the intense pleasure wreaking havoc on my body. I feel it shoot up from my toes, up from the tips of my fingers as it reaches my center. Warmth rushes through me like a raging river as he inserts a second finger. Deep-rooted need bursts through me like a flood when his fingers brush against my G-spot. My head shakes from side to side, my toes start to curl, and my now numb fingertips dig deeper into his broad, muscular shoulders as I murmur incoherent words. “Oh… Wes�
� I’m gonna… Fuck!” I moan as my climax surges through my body at impeccable speeds.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles against my jaw. “Who are you wet for?” The rhythm of his fingers slows as I gently float back down from pure bliss.
His husky voice washes over me, making my body twitch with desire. “I asked who you are wet for.”
“You,” I breathe out. The way he talks and touches me has my body on high alert. I would do just about anything he says at this moment to keep this feeling. The one and only time I ever had sex was quick and almost robotic. I know I shouldn’t compare, but Jarred didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing. Not like Wes anyway. He really seems to know how to set me on fire.
With my body lost in the sensations and unbidden lust, I barely feel my panties slip down over my thighs, over my knees, and the rest of the way down before they slide off all the way. The telltale sound of foil ripping pulls me out of my desire-filled fog momentarily. Slowly, my eyes slide open. I’m caged in between Wes’ arms as he hovers above me. His blue eyes fixed on mine. The amber colored sunset highlights his sweat glistened body. Without any words spoken, my fingers graze his skin as I trail feather light patterns down his chest, over his ribs, and down the insanely hot V until I finally reach my destination. “Are you sure?” he whispers.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” I whisper as I push his boxer briefs down over the hard flexed muscles in his ass.
Wes lifts up and shoves them down the rest of the way, kicking them off. Not wanting to look like a woman who’s never had sex before, I clench my jaw together to keep my mouth from falling open when his erection springs free. His cock is one that porn stars are known for. My eyes fixate on him and his hands as he rolls the condom on.
He looks back at me, and our eyes meet as he slowly climbs back over me and nestles between my legs. Wes’ lips brush against mine as he leans down, taking command of my mouth. It’s not hurried. It’s sweet and passionate. It’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had, yet it holds so much conviction. Conviction that he really is making this all about me, my needs and wants. My legs fall further apart, allowing him more access. With one hand, he lifts my leg and hitches it around his hip. “Look at me,” he whispers around our kissing. His cobalt blue ones meet mine. We stay like that for a few short seconds when he begins to push into me and my breath catches from the pressure. “Damn, Baby, you’re so fucking tight,” he grits through clenched teeth. Barely inside me, he stills, and I want to scream and ask him why he stopped. “You’re not a—”
I give a slight shake of my head to indicate that I’m not. “No. I’ve only been with one person. And that was only once.” I guess this is something we should have talked about beforehand, but I’m really not that interested in knowing how many women have had Wes before me. As his shoulders drop, I can tell he feels relieved. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it is. It just means I’m the luckiest bastard in the world right now. And just so you know, not tonight, but eventually, I’m going to bend you and break you and mold you in so many ways that you will not be able to tell where I begin and you end.” Wes thrusts forward as he fills me to the hilt, and I gasp from the intrusion. “But tonight, we’re going to do this nice and slow.”
The smell of bacon, gravy, and eggs wafts throughout the kitchen as Wes and I sit at the dining room table while waiting for the rest of the volunteers to show up. It’s nice being here next to him. Just the two of us. His thumb gently caresses my thigh under the table, and I think back to this past weekend. Friday night with Wes had been beyond amazing. I had never felt more adored in my whole life. He not only told me, but also showed me how beautiful he thought I was. He made sweet, slow, passionate, love to me. I can still feel his hands clutching my hip as he pushed slowly into me time and time again, savoring the feel of me. The way he gripped my upper thigh and guided my leg up over his hip. The strength he possessed while he held our hands above my head, tightly woven together. My body recalls the way his tongue and lips traced patterns up my stomach, toward my breasts, along the slope of my neck, and finally found my lips. It’s as if he was memorizing every shallow breath, gasp, and moan that I made as he did it. Just thinking about it sends an ache to my core and a smile to my lips. It was perfect.
Saturday and Sunday consisted of lots of running around to different stores to stock up and prepare for the kids to arrive at the ranch. While I was with Mrs. Sandy, Wes was with Brantley and Mr. Will, working on the ranch and with the horses. It seems like I had only seen Wes in passing. Jackie called Friday night while Wes and I were out to say she couldn’t make it until Sunday. Of course, we found this out on Saturday, and I’ve never seen Wes look so relieved.
On Sunday, the volunteers slowly started trickling in. Jackie showed up while Mrs. Sandy and I were unloading the stuff we had bought from Sam’s Club. As soon as she saw me, she squealed with excitement and dropped all of her luggage to help us. I had come back out of the house to get the last of the stuff when Liam and Sarah pulled up in Liam’s older model, dark blue, International Harvester Scout II with the top off. At that moment, the excitement of the next two weeks ahead of us actually started to sink in. It was all coming together, and people whom I loved like family were finally back in my life again. When I’d met them both last summer, we just clicked. Our personalities meshed well, and although Sarah and Liam are both older than I am, all three of us are college students.
As I sip my coffee, Mrs. Sandy says from the kitchen, “Kenleigh, dear, would you mind helping me get all the plates and stuff together for everyone else? They should be here soon, or at least they better be, especially since I told everybody to be here at six sharp.”
I’ve never seen Mrs. Sandy nervous before. I know this year that the group of kids we have coming in is larger than last year, but it’s only by five or ten more. Pots and pans bang on the stovetop while plates and silverware clink against each other in the sink.
“They better be here on time, or Mom might blow some shit up,” Wes whispers to me under his breath.
My eyes cut to his over the rim of my coffee cup. The thought of Mrs. Sandy ‘blowing some shit up’ brings a smile to my face. I set my coffee cup down and head into the kitchen to help her. A black and white apron with a pots and pans design covers her denim capris and coral colored T-shirt. Her blonde hair hangs loosely, pulled back from her naturally beautiful face. Flour, spices, eggs, and milk scatter the countertops as Mrs. Sandy rushes around the kitchen frantically. She continuously wipes her hands on the front of her apron, turns the sink off and on rinsing utensils, and opens different cabinets as she looks for things. “Mrs. Sandy, it’s okay.” I lay my hand on her shoulder to gain her attention. “What do you need me to do?”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When her eyes open, she looks more in control. “After getting the plates, juice, and everything else, would you mind washing some of these dishes? I seem to be running out of them, which is hard to do since I have so many.”
I smile at her as I try to contain the chuckle that wants to escape. “Yes ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she says, turning her attention back to the stove.
As soon as I have everything she needs out on the counter, I turn to the sink, rinse the dirty dishes, and soak them in the hot, soapy water.
“Need some help?” Wes’ deep timbre startles me, sending tingles down my spine.
I hadn’t even heard him move from the table to stand behind me. I barely turn my head to look at him. I nod. “Yeah, thanks.” I scoot over making room for him.
“Are you nervous about these next two weeks?” Wes asks as he rinses the dish I just handed him.
“No. I’m more excited than anything. I always have so much fun with the kids.” I smile a genuine smile at him. The soapy water trickles down my arms toward my elbows when I hand him another dish. “What about you?”
“Honestly? A little. I haven’t been around a group of kids in quite a while,” h
e answers quietly.
Huh, the confident, big, badass, bull rider is nervous and I can’t help but melt a little more for him. “That makes sense, but I know you’ll do fine. Trust me. Is it hard for you to be around… you know… kids with disabilities?” It would make sense, knowing that he and his cousin were so close before he died.
He stares into the sink full of water before he answers. “It used to, but not so much anymore. I’ve come to accept the fact that, even though I miss Colt, I know he’s no longer suffering. I look back now and thank God that I got what little time with him I did.” He shrugs his shoulders while drying a plate.
I do not know what to say, so I just nod. There are really no words of comfort that I’m sure he hasn’t heard. I’ve heard them all myself. I have learned over time that sometimes silence can be just as comforting.
We’re pulled out of our moment when the porch door swings open. Jackie, Liam, Sarah, and a few of the other volunteers wander in, stretching and yawning as they murmur good morning.
“Good mornin’. How did everyone sleep?” Mrs. Sandy asks as she puts the final touches on breakfast.
“Very well. Thank you,” Jackie answers as she gives me a pointed look. I’m taken back by her demeanor. When she arrived on Sunday, she was so excited that we were going to be bunking in the same room again like last summer. The silence that grew between us when I told her I that Mrs. Sandy offered me to stay in the main house quickly became awkward and uncomfortable. After that statement, she’s barely spoken to me. I figured she would have gotten over it after a night of sleeping on it, but I guess not.
“Some of the best sleep I’ve had in a while Mrs. S. Did you get new mattresses this year?” Liam replies as he pulls out a chair from the table and takes a seat.
“Nope, not new mattresses, but I did put those memory foam toppers I’ve been hearing about on the beds.”
Serenity Falls Page 11
