I can’t imagine wanting anyone else after you. I don’t want to.
Now her legs wrapped around me and another sound escaped her, almost one of surprise.
I only want you, now and forever.
Chapter 15
Wes was whispering things against my skin as he kissed me, words that were just as sweet and sexy as his caresses. Tears pricked my eyes and heat flooded my body. He was saying them in that same, half-dreamy, half-gruff tone he’d used earlier when talking about painting me.
I’d known that there’d been a restless hunger in me since I’d met Wes, one that had only intensified in the last few days. And yesterday, it was like a spark had been lit, almost causing everything to go up in flames.
Well, tonight that hunger swept everything else away, and now I was a damn inferno.
I wasn’t sure what had possessed me earlier, though. I’d only slipped into the bathroom to catch my breath, pinch myself, and make sure this was all real. But that’s when I’d seen my bag in the corner – Wes must have stashed it in here for whatever reason.
I was glad he did.
Digging in, my hands had closed upon the ridiculous brassiere I’d brought, along with the panties. I wasn’t lying when I’d told Wes I’d grabbed them by mistake. In my haste to go after Trini, I’d just thrown a bag together. It almost felt like another lifetime right now.
Wriggling out of my sweats, I’d slipped them on, and then I’d looked up in the mirror. For an instant, I’d despaired. My hair was wild, cheeks too tanned, lips chapped…
But then I shook my head and looked again. Not to see what Wes saw, but to try to see myself as I should. And the girl in the mirror transformed. Then her face had lit with a diabolical smile as I picked up his hoodie again.
And at this moment, I couldn’t be more grateful to myself.
“You taste like caramel. It’s fitting,” Wes was saying against the bottom of my rib cage. “Sweet but strong.” Biting my lips, I strained against his hand holding my wrists. He chuckled. “I’ve never been so glad to be this tall.” Callused fingertips traced down my thigh and I dug my heels into his back. “Little shaky, are we? Never mind impatient…”
“Wes,” I bit out, my voice filled with impatience, “I-oh.” The rest of the words were lost in an incoherent murmur as he lightly bit along my hip bone, his fingers now tracing the line of my panties across my ass cheeks.
“You may have asked me to stop being a gentleman, but I am one… Which just means I have to oblige my woman, you know,” he said, his deep voice sending vibrations through me. Now I was trembling, every touch rocketing through me like an earthquake.
This is what you get for teasing him like that, came a voice in my head. Wes untangled my legs from him and pressed a kiss to my inner thigh. I went limp. Oh, I should have teased him more.
Suddenly he was looming over me again and smiling. At the same time, I arched off the bed, crying out. His hand had slipped inside my panties and he was curling his fingers into my heat. I could feel my pulse in every corner of my body, beating with wild bliss, as he teased me to a higher and higher pleasure point.
Till he hit it and I shattered. Shaking, squirming, still held fast in his grip, I cried out his name.
While I was drifting down from it, like a leaf on the breeze, I vaguely sensed Wes releasing my wrists, then unhooking my bra, and sliding off my panties.
Even though last night we’d been naked together, this somehow felt like the first time we’d ever touched. Or maybe that’s just how it was with Wes.
Every kiss felt more powerful than the one before. More fulfilling, more passionate.
While down on my knees in front of him – some part of me was still astonished at how brazen I’d been – I’d been a little awed by the size of Wes. The man was well-endowed in length and girth. But I’d dived right in anyways.
And even though I was shaking – a little nervous, more than a little unsure – that’s what I wanted to do now. My hands clawed down his back as I tried to pull him towards me.
He had other ideas, however, as his tongue swirled a nipple, which went hard in a second. His fingers had found the other breast.
Gripping the back of his neck, I mewled in a helpless, ecstatic way. “Wes, don’t stop,” I cried out. “Yes, like that. Oh, yes…”
Moments or hours later – time was melting away on me – he did stop, but only to move that expert mouth further and further down until he was tasting my core and I was now twisting on top of the blankets. His hands pinned my hips down, stopping me, and his tongue stroked at me without mercy. I gripped the blankets hard, crying out, and rising higher and higher in a blaze of heat.
Until again, I was swept away, undone by Wes.
Shaking all over, I tried to catch my breath as my body lit up with aftershocks of bliss. Wes moved up next to me, his hands gentle as he rubbed my back.
A peaceful, but fierce kind of joy had filled me. And without knowing exactly how, I could sense Wes was in the same place. It was like our hearts were beating in sync. A palpable connection.
Right on cue, he looked down at me and smiled sweetly, but with an edge of cockiness. It made my heart flip over. There was a trace of concern in his eyes, however. “How are you?”
I couldn’t help but hear the cheeky challenge in his voice.
Reaching up, I pulled him on top of me and shuddered when our bodies met. His hard, strong hip bones pressing into mine, his chiseled chest and abs rubbing against me, and his strong legs pinning my thighs on either side. Then his hands, slipping between me and the mattress, exploring my back, my stomach, my breasts, my legs.
Meanwhile, all I could do was grip his shoulders and hold on for the ride.
Wes was crushing me closer to him, desperation thrumming through his body. Then he kissed me. Kissed me like this was his last night on earth. Some part of me wanted to ease his mind, tell him we had so many more nights ahead of us.
But it was drowned out by my instinctual response to him – just as feverish, just as hungry.
His length was pressing against me and I wrapped my legs around him. Getting to his knees, he plunged in, and I cried out against his mouth. Then our kiss broke apart as we both gasped for air. His hands found mine and our fingers gripped together tightly.
“Kay, look at me,” Wes gritted out, his voice deeper and more gravelly than usual.
I’d had my eyes closed, but they fluttered open, and I smiled. He was fully inside of me. We were one.
A pleasurable cascade of shivers was rushing through me, and our connection only built in intensity with our eyes locked. Arching a little, I moved my hips, and Wes instantly responded. He began moving against me, and I gyrated my hips to meet him. Our gaze never wavered.
I watched as emotions chased across his face. Satisfaction, longing, joy, and something else, something gentle, almost fragile, but unbreakable. My heart was racing now – not only because of our closeness or the intense ecstasy we were experiencing together – but because of that look in his eyes. However, my brain was not processing anything except the slick, soft movement of skin on skin, the sensation of being pierced and pleasured, and the mingling of our harsh breath.
Crying out, I suddenly came, as Wes brushed a dark, deep spot of unfathomable satisfaction within me. One that had never been touched before. It may not have even existed before.
Breathless, I then watched as Wes’s body went rigid, and he came as well.
Suddenly we separated, two again, and I shook with the loss. A strange look crossed Wes’s face as he looked down at me, then rolled over next to me, staring at the ceiling.
“Wes?” I asked, an odd bolt of fear going through me. “Is everything okay?”
“What?” He turned to me, an exhausted, satisfied smile on his face. “Better than okay. That was… Let me catch my breath.” And he smirked at me, eyes already devouring me again.
But behind that, I thought I could sense that something had shattered. That behind the c
ockiness and bliss was loneliness and resignation. As though he’d realized something, faced it, and while he survived – it had brought him to his knees.
Then he smiled. “Why do you look so worried, Kay? Still think I’m laid low by your feminine wiles?” His big arms wrapped around me and his lips hovered inches from mine. “I mean, I am… Why do you think I had to sleep on my stomach last night?”
In spite of myself, a laugh escaped me. “I did wonder about that.”
“I think it’s only fair I get something in return. How about a secret?” Wes lightly bit my lower lip and then grinned at me. “Out with it. Better be naughty.”
Gaping at him, I shook my head, “I don’t have any…” Then I trailed off, as an image popped into my mind. One that had teased the back of my thoughts whenever I’d looked at Wes these past few weeks. “Um…”
“Oh, it’s a good one.” He chuckled. “Let’s hear it.”
Flushing, I shook my head, “I don’t know…um, okay,” I said, in a voice barely above a whisper. “I sort of pictured…” My cheeks flamed. “I imagined us – against a wall.”
Wes’s eyebrows raised in confusion for a second, then the widest, most diabolical grin I’d seen on this man yet spread across his face. “I like the way you think.” With that, he was up and out of the bed, dragging me with him. In another second, he was walking me backward across the room, until my back was suddenly flush with a cold, smooth wall. “Like this?” He inquired. “Trapping you against it, putting my hand above your head, leaning down to kiss you?”
An ache slammed into my center, sending a hot spike of desire spiraling through me. Mouth dry, all I could do was nod.
Wes was an artist in more ways than one.
He kissed me gently, his heat almost burning against the freezing wall. A hand slid down the side of my body and came to rest on my thigh. Then gripping it, he tugged my leg up and around his waist.
His shaft was now teasing my heat and I gasped into his mouth. In another second, he had me picked up. Both of my legs were around his waist and his hands held my hips easily. Wes’s hard tip danced across me and my head fell back.
Reaching out, I gripped his neck as he slid in.
That sense of being whole – of being complete and connected – filled me again as he did. This time the pleasure rose more quickly. It was more frantic, our bodies slamming together, heat sparking, and moans filling the room. The contrast of the cold wall and his burning skin only amplified it.
Pounding, pouring bliss raced up my spine, lighting up my skin, and I half-expected to see embers filling the room. But it was just the candles, burning on – that warm, dim light throwing a dreamy glow over the scene.
Never let me forget this, I begged of the universe.
Wes and I shattered almost together this time. I gasped against him as a series of orgasms seemed to hit me in a crescendo, each one making me grip him a little bit tighter. I sensed him watching as I cried out, again and again, my body quivering against him.
“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Wes commented, voice slightly unsteady, and he picked me up in his arms like a bride, and brought me back to bed.
Again, I thought I saw that darkness just behind the light in his eyes, and my hands found his face the second we were in bed, side by side. This time, under the covers, I sat up and gazed down at him. “Wes, is there something you need to tell me?”
The implication of the question was clear. Not something complimentary; something that had to be said. Something that maybe I didn’t want to hear right now.
Something that would catapult this from romantic candlelit sex to a serious conversation.
A whispered secret, perhaps.
For a brief moment, I saw the muscles around his mouth tighten, his jaw a harsh line, and eyes dark with pain, but then it was gone. He was tangling his hands in my curls and smiling at me.
“It’s almost like you want to kill the mood,” he teased.
I swatted him, then I slid my body on top of his. He cocked an eyebrow at me. “What? I had a long, long nap. I’m not even close to tired,” I said, splaying my fingers on his chest. Looking down, it was then I saw a tattoo on his chest I hadn’t seen before. Done in bright white ink, it looked almost as though it were part of his skin. “Nice tat, what is that, a wolf paw? Very manly.”
Tracing my fingers over it, I frowned a little, but before I could ask anything, Wes shifted, and said, “Actually, it’s a coyote.” He said this in a hushed voice and our eyes met.
His face twisted slightly, eyes clouding as he looked at me, and I suddenly realized he was looking at me as though he wanted me, but couldn’t have me. As though I was thousands of miles away instead of being right there.
Unable to take it any longer, I leaned down, my hair falling around us like a curtain, and kissed him. I’m right here. He relaxed under my hands, responding with a gentle affection that made me glow inside. I’m not going anywhere…
I had the sense of falling and being caught.
Now time passed in a languorous, obliging fashion, while the intimacy between us rose and fell like waves.
Falling, it went slow – a steady beat where touch was focused on memorizing, on learning, and on taking time. Long strokes, sighs, and laughter.
Rising, it was all intensity. More demanding every time. A little out of control. Almost torturous – a pleasure that teased pain. Touches that were desperate and never quite enough.
At last, spent, my back against his hard, sweaty chest, we caught our breath and I began to drift off to sleep. I felt the brush of Wes’s breath against my shoulder.
He whispered something then, right before I fell asleep, words I knew, but I didn’t quite understand. Something in his tone that cracked my heart a little, too.
“At least I’ll have this memory,” he had whispered. “Even if I can’t have you.”
But, Wes, you already do, I’d tried to respond.
But I’d already slipped into dreams.
Chapter 16
“Running out of hot water, kind of an accomplishment,” Kalin declared as she brought me a cup of coffee and then sat down at the cottage table, where she began to braid her long, wet hair.
Outside, the sun was shining out of a brilliantly blue sky, the breeze coming in the window was the warmest it had been, and I could not stop smiling. “Are you blaming me?” I asked, trying not to laugh. “Sorry, but I’d like to point out that you could have said no when I asked to join you.”
“No, I don’t think I could have,” Kalin’s eyes filled with wicked light. “And I didn’t want to.”
Clearing my throat, I looked away, but not before I felt a lurch from the region below my stomach, and the familiar pressure there. Damn this woman. With her, I was a teenager again.
But in all the best ways.
“Good,” I said after a pause, looking back at her, and reaching out for her hand without thinking. My thumb traced over the smooth arc of skin between her thumb and fingers. “I needed a shower.” I needed you.
Laughing, Kalin squeezed my hand, and we sat like that for a while, sipping coffee, and occasionally talking. But the silence was just as comfortable.
Something my grandmother said a long time ago suddenly popped into my head. A little cousin had asked her how she knew it was love with our Grandad. She’d responded, “Well, I was just as comfy not talkin’ to him as talkin’ to him. That’s a rare kinda sweetness, child. Richer than honey and nicer than magnolias bloomin’ in May. Remember that.”
Abruptly I let go of her hand and stood up. “Darlin’, don’t mind me, I’ll be right back,” I said, my voice unexpectedly filled with my southern heritage.
A soft giggle escaped Kalin. “Y’all take care now,” she drawled at me and I glanced back to see her eyes twinkling as she took another sip of her coffee.
Grabbing my sketchbook bag reflexively on the way out, I trotted out and down the steps, letting the fresh air and sunlight wash over me. The trees
swayed gently, but just beyond, the stones of the desert rose up, and the Colorado River rushed by.
It was already almost ten a.m. The day was slipping away too quickly, like the water in the river, and with each passing minute, I knew I had to tell Kalin. Tell her everything.
But I was procrastinating.
Part of me suggested waiting until tomorrow – enjoy one more night together and deal with the rest later. Only trouble was, we had a lot of ground to cover. Literally and figuratively.
Pacing around, I dug out a sketchbook and flipped through it, till I found my drawing from last night. I’d woken up in the middle of the night, thinking I’d heard something outside. Silent as a ghost, I’d slipped out of bed, checking the windows.
At first there was nothing, but then I’d thought I heard a flutter of wings.
I’d jumped, peering outside, yet had seen nothing. And when it remained quiet, I’d blown out the candles that were still lit and started to walk back to bed. Then I’d stopped in my tracks.
Through the windows, moonlight had poured across Kalin’s skin in a warm, buttery glow. She’d been curled up, half on her stomach, the sheets low on her hips, and her arms curving towards the pillows. Her face serene, the light had cut perfect shadows under her full lips.
She’d reminded me of the goddess paintings done by Karl Bang, the contemporary eclecticism master. Beyond capturing the beauty of his subjects, the painter evoked the power of them – the allure and the strength, the caretaker and the warrior, the princess, and the person.
One of them in particular came to mind – the goddess stared straight at the viewer, reclining on a large white mother tiger while the cubs frisked nearby. That’s Kalin, through and through.
My fingers had itched for my pencil, and after a moment of deliberation, I’d retrieved one, along with my sketchbook. Still caught in the web of sleep, I’d fallen easily into the meditative state of drawing. It hadn’t taken long, but when I was done, I’d thought I’d almost captured her this time.
HOTSHOT BROTHERS: Coyote Shifters Page 28
