***
“Jesus Christ,” Wes said as I entered the garage where my bike had been stored. His gaze was all over me. From the black leather jacket I wore over my Radiohead concert tank top, down my ass-hugging skinny jeans to my knee-high biker boots.
“You like?” I cocked a hip to the side, knowing it accentuated my hourglass shape that he appreciated very much. He’d told me enough times how infatuated he was with my body. Wes liked a woman with a little meat on her. Stick-thin girls were not his gig. At least that’s what he said. He could have fed me a line, but if the look on his face right at that moment was any indication, he liked what he saw.
He threw his leather jacket over the seat of the bike, made his way around his Jeep, and in two seconds flat, his mouth was on mine. Kissing for Wes was more than foreplay. It was a brand, something he seared into my skin and stayed with me all day. Hell, I’d never forget any of his kisses. They were that good. Light nips at times, simple swipes of his tongue at other moments, followed by full, deep, drugging movements the next. And his hands, oh, his hands were magnificent. He knew exactly where to caress, pinch, tickle, which is what he was doing to my ass and breast. One on each. No one could ever say Wes wasn’t good with hands.
I sucked on Wes’s tongue then bit his lip until he moaned. He pulled back and laid his head against my forehead. “I thought we were going to ride,” I breathed against his lips then licked the rim.
“Yeah, until I saw you like that. Now my dick has other plans.” He pressed his hips against mine. I could feel the hardness through his jeans.
With great effort, I pulled back, cupped his cheeks and stared into his beautiful green eyes. “Later. The wait makes the anticipation sweeter.” I finished off by nipping his lips once more. He tried to chase after them, but I pulled away.
Giving him an extra sway of my hips so he got a nice hard look at my ass, I flung a leg over my bike. “Hey girl.” I petted the tank and handle bars. “You ready to show Wes what you can do, sweet thing?” I spoke softly to Suzi.
“Um, I think you need to scoot back so I can get on.” Wes gestured that I move back to ride bitch.
“I must not have heard you. Did you insinuate that I was going to ride bitch?” My eyebrows rose up into my hairline, and I narrowed my gaze.
Wes put one hand on the handlebar and one down by his side. “If that means your legs are squeezing me, and I can feel your heat all up my back, then yeah, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He licked his lips and scanned my body with his gaze once more. Again, it was not lost on me that those eyes might as well have been hands because I could feel them running up and down me every time he looked my way.
“Well, I believe we have a predicament then. Suzi’s my girl, and I’m the only one that drives her. You, my friend, need to wrap those thick thighs around me.” I pushed forward and made room on the back. “Unless you’re worried about your masculinity.”
Wes surprised me. He put on his leather jacket and flung a long leg over the bike. Then before I could even turn Suzi on, Wes turned me on. He molded his form to my back, slid a hand up and under my tank in front, shoving my bra up and out of the way so his hand could get at naked skin. Then his fingers pulled and plucked at the hardening tip. I moaned as his mouth came down against my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. I arched backward, leaning my head against his shoulder and pushing back into his hardness. Just as I craned my neck around toward him, the button on my jeans was opened and the zipper pulled down.
“Oh God,” I whispered when his hands made contact going straight into my jeans. Those talented fingers zeroed in finding my heat. He pushed two deep inside while swirling his thumb around the tight knot of nerves throbbing for his touch. Wes didn’t disappoint. With powerful arms, he arched my body back using my pussy and breast as his anchor. Those fingers of his going impossibly deep until I cried out, squeezing my eyes tight as the spasms signaling my release closed in.
Wes’s teeth grated down my neck, and I thrust my hips up, using the heel spikes as my fulcrum. I knew he’d keep the bike up with his own powerful legs, so I pushed up hard, wrestling to reach that beautiful crest, the pinnacle of pleasure.
“Ride me, baby,” Wes whispered against my hairline. That growly timber sent me even further into the bliss. I did what he said. Like a wanton hussy, I bent back over him, thrust my hips, forcing his fingers to fuck me harder. His hand was nothing but a blur between my legs as he worked me. Then he pinched my nipple with one hand, bit down on my neck, and drove deep with his other, hooking those fingers up and yanking down, crushing my clit with his palm.
Gone.
Sweet blessed oblivion.
“That’s it, sweetheart, come back to me,” Wes said into my ear, his thumb still twirling around my clit sending sweet tremors to scatter in every direction while I made my descent back to Earth. “I take it back,” he whispered into my ear before turning my neck and kissing me.
“Take what back?” I asked still in my happy place.
“The ride was nice, but it was all about the journey. Watching you come apart in my arms, on this bike, that’s something I’ll never forget.”
Me either.
***
We rode up and down Highway One taking in the views between Malibu Canyon Road and Point Magu Rock. Wes pointed to a turn-off near a worn down sign for a public beach. The entrance was off the beaten path, but Wes knew where we were going. I stopped the bike at the tiny turnout with a dirt path that led down to a small cove. When we got there, Wes pulled off his backpack and pulled out a thin blanket. We spread it across the sand and settled looking out at the open expanse of ocean. The place was public yet completely deserted. There wasn’t a house or person for miles. Wes dug into the pack again and brought out some sandwiches.
“You made lunch, too? A girl could get used to this. Amazing pancakes and now this? Let me guess, a gourmet turkey made with hummus and the freshest veggies?” I cocked a brow, and he covered his mouth while he snickered.
“Think again, princess.” He handed me half a sandwich.
“Peanut butter and jelly?” I looked down and shook my head then took a bite of the creamy sandwich. It had the perfect ratio of peanut butter to berry jelly. He grinned and handed me a thermos. I expected water, but it ended up being ice cold milk. Perfection. “Milk?”
“Only the best for you, Ms. Mia.” He took a big bite then grabbed for the milk.
“You know, PB & J is actually my favorite sandwich.” His eyes widened. “It is. Seriously. I love it. And you know what, I love this. Sitting here with you after a long ride. It’s…well, I’ll remember this, Wes. Being here with you. This month has been the best of my life. And not just the sex.” His eyebrows rose. “Okay, maybe the sex.” We both laughed.
He took another swallow of milk then responded. “I know what you mean. Being with you is easy.” I cocked my head to the side and he grinned. “Not easy easy. Just…it feels good. You don’t make me work for it. Your needs are simple, and you’re not a drama queen. I didn’t think a relationship could be like that.”
“Never was easy for me, either. Always something in the way,” I admitted. Wes looked off into the distance as I stared at his profile. As far as beautiful men go, Weston Channing was tops. He didn’t even have to try to look good. He was naturally good looking. Casual, professional, even when he’d just woken up and sleep crust was in his eyes, he was still heart-stoppingly gorgeous. But right now, sharing this private span of beach with me, sharing a bit of himself, that made him irresistible. “Have you ever been in love?”
His eyes shot to mine, a hint of a smile on his lips. He leaned back onto his elbows and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. A couple times I thought maybe, but like I said, it was never easy. I think when you love someone it should be easy. Things should just fall into place, you know?”
I nodded. “The planets, moons, and stars align and everything just works right?”
He laughed. “Somet
hing like that. You?”
“Me what?”
“Have you been in love?” I thought long and hard about his question. So much so, that his hand came up to my shoulder and gripped tenderly. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just it would be easier to ask me if I haven’t fallen in love. In some way, I’ve fallen in love with every last man I’ve ever been with. Unfortunately, now, sitting here with you, I’m questioning whether I was actually in love, lust, or maybe just overwhelmed by them.”
“Why do you think that is?”
I laughed, brought my legs up into my chest and tucked my chin onto my knees. “Not sure. It feels different with you.”
“So you’ve been with me a month. Admitted that the sex has been the best of your entire life.” I rolled my eyes at him but he kept on. “Agreed that it’s different with me. Does that mean you love me?”
“Maybe,” I said honestly not really knowing how else to respond.
“Well, fuck me.”
“We’re going to do that later, remember. Anticipation?” I reminded him.
Wes laughed and then turned on his side and propped his head on his hand. “What if I said I was falling in love with you?”
“Wes,” I warned. He knew better than to go that route.
“No, let’s just talk this out for a minute.” He forced me to lean back and mimic his pose so we were lying on our sides looking into one another’s eyes. “If you maybe love me and I’m falling in love with you, shouldn’t we do something about it?”
I smiled. “We are. We’re going to stay friends. You’re going to go to work and direct your film. We’ll stay in contact, and when my debt is paid…” I looked deeply into his eyes and stopped.
“When your debt is paid then what?”
“I come back home to LA where you are,” I offered.
“But you’re still going to leave tomorrow.” The sadness in his green eyes stole my breath. It was long moments before I could respond.
“Yes. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
He nodded and looked down. “So, then when you come back…” This time his words trailed off.
“I don’t want you waiting for me, Wes. If you find something good with someone, you take advantage of it. Have fun. A man like you, who looks the way you do, is not going to have a hard time finding someone to warm your bed.”
“Is that what you’re going to do? Let your clients warm your bed?” His tone was hard, harsher than I expected, but I knew what we were talking about was dangerous territory. It had the power to ruin everything we’d come to have over the past month and could ever have in the future. It was time to tread lightly.
“I’m just saying that for this year, we’re going to go our separate ways. We’re going to do whatever we want.”
He let out a long, slow breath and sat up. “That means you’re not going to wait for me.” A quick burst of air left his nose, like he was holding back a huff.
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to do what feels right at the time, for me. And I want you to do the same. But I don’t want to lose you in my life.”
He licked his lips then grabbed my hand, bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss. “I don’t want to lose you either. It’s just, I’m trying to find a place where letting you go is okay. Because it doesn’t feel right.”
I gripped his hand tight then brought it to my lips for a return kiss. “It doesn’t for me either, but it’s what’s going to happen. Please respect that. Can you do that for me? And in the future, we’ll just see where we’re at. That has to be enough.”
“It’s nowhere near enough, Mia. If it’s all I’ve got, it will have to do for now.” He pulled me into his side and hugged me tight. I held on knowing that soon, I’d be letting go.
***
All my stuff was loaded into the SUV, and I watched as it pulled out of Wes’s driveway headed towards my apartment. The driver had the key to my tiny box and would put the clothing in and leave the key with the super.
Wes was expecting me to be here when he got home so we could have one last meal together. Unfortunately, I knew that doing so would break me. More than that, it would ruin me. After our time on the beach yesterday, we went back to his home and spent the entire afternoon into the evening making love. That’s what it was. It wasn’t fucking or having sex. We made love, over and over again until we were exhausted and passed out, snuggled together in his giant bed. Then he got a call that forced him to go into the studio this morning. He said he’d be home at six to take me out for our last dinner. Except I wouldn’t be there. It would be too hard to say goodbye like that after everything we’ve been through.
Instead, I decided to share my thoughts with him on paper, writing him a cliché, but heartfelt, Dear John letter. Basically, I was a coward.
Weston Charles Channing, III,
Writing your name out like that cracks me up. Have you ever said your name out loud? Do it. For me. It’s funny. You’ll laugh. I did.
In all seriousness, I want to thank you for this month. I was expecting to hate every second of this job and instead, it ended up being the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my life. Meeting you has been a gift. You’re a gift, Wes. I know that sounds cheesy and I almost scratched it out, but you need to hear it from someone who cares. And I do care. A lot. More than I should.
Being with you, spending time together, has changed me, for the better I think. I now feel as though I can get through this year and learn something from it, aside from just saving my dad. I think I’m going to be saving myself. It’s time for me to live for me. If I stayed and let you take care of my problems, pay off my dad’s debt, I would regret it every day of my life. It would always hang over my head and our relationship. Leaving this way, I’m leaving on my terms. And I’m leaving us still good friends. The best of friends. Friends with benefits?
Am I sad leaving? Yes. I don’t want to leave, but you already knew that. I know what I’m doing sucks for the both of us, but I also know it’s the only way I can truly be free. What’s that saying? ‘If you love someone set it free and if it doesn’t come back it wasn’t meant to be?’
I hope to come back one day. If it’s meant to be, it will be, right? If it’s not, we will always have a friend we can count on. I truly hope you understand that and where these words are coming from. I wish you the best. Your movie is going to blow everyone away because you wrote it, and your words are beautiful.
This morning when you thought I was asleep and you kissed me goodbye you said softly, “Remember me.” Wes, I promise, I’ll never forget our time together but most importantly, I’ll never forget you.
With everything that I am,
~Mia
Then I kissed the letter right next to my name leaving a set of fat pink lips. One last kiss for Wes.
***
The next couple of days were a nightmare of appointments my Aunt Millie scheduled for me prior to meeting hot artist guy, Alec Dubois. The hair and nail appointments were pleasant, if not boring as hell. I dig pretty things as much as the next girl, but spending four fucking hours getting your hair done, and another two for your feet and nails is ridiculous. After that, Millie had me with the aesthetician.
An aesthetician is another name for torture mistress. They start with a relaxing facial where they fill your senses with these beautiful scents, calming music, and a facial massage. Then they bust out the bright spotlight. Your choices at that point are close your eyes or lose a retina. The eye closing is designed to help you when they bring forth the excavator, I mean the “extractor.” Otherwise known as a pimple popping, blackhead digging shovel that removes every pore on your face of the nasty gunk your daily makeup leaves behind. It’s serious business, but I will say, my face never looked better. Bright, flawless skin that felt like a baby’s ass. It was so smooth to the touch.
Then my day turned to complete and utter shit. I had to get waxed. Everywhere. The artist had very specific requirements. If
I was going to drop my clothes, and he was going to drop an additional twenty -five thousand, I needed to be hairless everywhere but my head. The peach fuzz on my arms was okayed thankfully. My nether regions, not so much. If you’ve never had the pleasure of getting a Brazilian wax, consider yourself lucky. First, your assailant, I mean aesthetician, covers every inch of your lady bits with hot wax barely this side of scalding. Once that cools and hardens into a hard surface, the skin is held down while they proceed to rip a layer of skin and every single hair out leaving your bits hairless, smooth and looking less like a woman and more like a little girl.
It’s demoralizing, and I can’t imagine why women would willingly go through this if they weren’t getting paid the big bucks. At least I know I’m getting a payout at the end of my suffering. What’s their excuse?
***
My phone beeped from my back pocket. I’d received a text. People were still getting settled before take-off, so I could check the message and maybe even have time for a reply.
From: Wes Channing
To: Mia Saunders
Got your letter. Sorry I didn’t contact sooner. I thought it would be better if I gave it time. Want to wish you safe travels. There’s something in your bag in the front pocket. I’ll call you soon. Remember me.
I smiled and pulled the pack from under the seat in front of me. Inside the front pocket was a small black box about three inches wide by an inch tall. Once I opened it, the item inside made me smile so wide I thought my cheeks might burst. Inside the box was a brass key dangling from a small yellow and pink surfboard. It was the key I used while I lived with Wes. My key. Only this time, the keychain had a small addition. A sparkly red heart dangled alongside the surfboard.
A note sat jammed at the bottom of the box. I opened it.
Mia,
You forgot your key. It opens a lot more than a door. One day I hope you’ll use it.
January (Calendar Girl Book 1) Page 10
