January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (12 page)

“Don’t…”

“Why not! Because it will make you feel something?” he sneered.

I stood up and walked away. Wes didn’t follow me.

***

The sound of glass shattering woke me from a dead sleep. I got up and tiptoed along the hallway keeping myself dead silent until I found Wes laughing with half his jacket on, the other half twisted around his hand as if he’d been trying to get it off.

I walked over to him and tugged on the jacket. That was a bad idea. Once he was free, he steamrolled me into the opposite wall, lips on my neck. He bit down hard, and I cried out trying to push him off me. “Mia, Mia, Mia, I want you so bad. Don’t want to lose you…please,” he begged but I had no idea what his slurred, drunken words really meant.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed,” I said trying to adjust him. He walked a few steps then stopped and grabbed me to him. My back hit another wall. This time his hand cupped my breast, and he tweaked the nipple with expert fingers. I moaned.

“Fuck yeah, I love those little noises you make. Almost between a moan and a whimper. Makes my dick so hard.” And he wasn’t kidding as evidenced by his rock hard erection thrusting against my hip. Before I could move, he had one of my legs slung up and over one hip. Even in a drunken state, he knew exactly what he was doing, only his movements were a little bit sloppier, less coordinated.

“Wes, not here., We need to get you in bed.”

“You’ll come with me?” he pleaded, licking and biting along the column of my neck. “Stay with me in my bed.”

“Yeah sure, we’ll fuck in your bed this time,” I said leading him to his room. Once we got there, he turned around, gripped me by the hips and kissed me. Even tinged with whiskey, the one liquor I couldn’t stand, he tasted great.

“No, I want you to sleep with me. All night long. I want to wake up to you one time,” he begged leading me over to the bed. He sat, pulled down my panties, and I lifted up my camisole standing before him naked as the day I was born.

“I love this body.” His hand traced down from my clavicle, over my breast where he gave a little squeeze, down the curve of my waist, over my hip bone, and down my thigh. I shivered when he completed the journey on the other side.

“Just this once, stay all night. Let me wake to you,” he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth. Bolts of electricity roared through my limbs, pleasure being the first to light up, and quickly followed by lust and need.

“Just this once,” I repeated.

That night we made love for the second time. Desperate, clawing love. Somewhere in the middle of the night, Wes woke up sober and took me again. He told me he wanted to reenact everything we did so he’d be certain to remember it. I knew I’d never forget it. 

***

I woke to Wes watching me sleep. His blond, shaggy hair fell over his eyes, and I pushed it to the side, wanting to see all of him in the beautiful morning light.

“Why are you an escort?” he asked. There was no judgment, no harshness to his words. Just the simple question as if it was something he’d been dying to know since day one. He probably had.

It was time. He deserved to know why I couldn’t give him more. I know he wanted me to stay, possibly live with him to see how being together for
real
could turn out. He knew it didn’t bother me that he was so busy, which was the reason he claimed he didn’t do relationships. I could take care of myself and had proven it. I wasn’t a clingy chick like most trophy bitches. But that was just it. I didn’t want to be a trophy wife, or girlfriend, for that matter. It was important that I find my own way, be my own person. And right now, I couldn’t do that because I had to help my dad.

Instead of skimming the truth or making up something plausible, I laid it out for him.

“My dad owes some really bad guys some money. A lot of money.”

“I have a lot of money,” he said quietly. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes at his admission. I turned towards him, put my hands in prayer pose, and tucked them under my cheek. He mimicked my pose.

“Yes, you do, but it’s your money. My dad got in bad with some loan sharks for gambling. I’m working to pay off that debt.”

“How much?”

“A million.”

He let out a slow breath. “I have a lot of expendable money, Mia. I could help you.”

I shook my head. Knowing the type of man Wes Channing was, I knew once he found out that my family was in trouble, he’d want to help. Only this was my problem, not his.

“I know you could, but I haven’t asked for your help.” It was imperative that I make it perfectly clear that this was my decision. I wasn’t a damsel in distress and he wasn’t a white knight, charging in to save the day. Fairytales don’t exist, especially for chicks from Vegas with a truckload of baggage.

“But what if I wanted to help?”

“You’re very kind, Wes.”

He shook his head and leaned onto his back. “No Mia, I’m not. I’m selfish. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to go pose nude for some rich artist in Seattle. I want you here with me, in my house, and in my bed. I’ll pay whatever price it takes to get that.”

All of the air left my lungs in a whoosh. “Do you love me, Wes?”

His gaze shot to mine. “Um,” he licked his lips and bit down on the plump flesh. Made me want to kiss it better. “I know I like you. I like you a lot.”

I smiled wide and traced his nose from the bridge down to the tip with one finger. “I like you too, Wes. A lot. But this is something I have to do. Not only for my dad, though that is the driving force, but for me, too. And you need no distractions. Your movie starts filming next week. You’re going to be directing for the first time…”

Wes ran a hand through his hair. “I know all those things. That doesn’t change that I want you here.”

“I know it doesn’t. And if I’m being honest, I don’t want to go, but I am going to leave. And you and me? We’re going to stay friends. Right?”

He sighed then pulled my body up and over his. I rested my arms on his chest then leaned my chin on his sternum. “Of course we are. If nothing else, you’re the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.”

My eyebrows shot up into my hairline. “I mean, you know. Best friend that’s a girl.”

“I understand,” I pecked him on the lips.

“So you’re leaving in two days, and there’s nothing I can do or say to make you stay?”

I shook my head and rested against his heart, letting the heavy thump lull me into a place that was half awake, half asleep. I knew in my heart of hearts that the only reason I’d stay, could stay, even consider staying, would be if he loved me. There was no denying that I was falling for him, but I held a part of me back, knowing that love was never supposed to be on the table. Not after falling in love with every man I’d ever slept with. This time with Wes, I’d guarded my heart so fiercely that he’d only gotten small bits and pieces of it along the way. The whole enchilada was still safe with me in full control.

“Where does that leave us then?” He slid his hands down to cup my ass cheeks, and he gave them a tight squeeze. It reminded me of how much I was going to miss his bedroom skills. Going back to a battery-operated boyfriend was not high on my list of things I wanted to do in Seattle. Like see the phallic space needle. That was high on the list.

“How about we leave it as friends?”

He grimaced. “Best friends?” I tried.

He lifted me up by the waist, centered his hard cock between my thighs, and I sank down onto it, pierced by the steely girth and length of him. Jesus, the man was well hung, and even better, he knew exactly how to use it. 

“Benefits,” I whispered on a hard thrust, and he grinned.

“Best friends, with benefits,” I said then tipped my head back, anchored my hands on his muscled pecs and squeezed from within. 

Wes’s body went tight. “Now you’re talking.” He pulled me up and slammed me down. We both cried out. “Now ride me.”

Chapter 9

“What do you want to do today?” Wes asked when I entered the breakfast area. To my surprise, he was cooking, flipping pancakes to be exact. I looked around scanning the area for Ms. Croft.

“Where’s Judi?”

“Gave her the day off. Since it’s your last day, I wanted the entire day alone with you.” He grinned then winked.

I sat on the barstool in front of the island where he was finishing up our breakfast. The pancakes weren’t burnt and smelled delicious. I stared in awe at the short stack. Butter dripped down the sides enticingly mixing in with the thick syrup. Then he squirted a can of whipped cream making some type of design on the top. With a flick of his wrist, he slid the plate in front of me. On the very top of the stack was a happy face.

“Happy cakes.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I laughed. This man was such a dichotomy. Work-a-holic, surfer, escort-hiring, Jeep-driving, rich man, who made pancakes with smiley faces on them. “What?” He leaned his elbows on the counter and tilted his head. His face had the morning stubble I had gotten used to seeing, and adored. I used the tips of my fingers to skip across the prickly surface.

I shook my head and cut into the small stack of five perfectly round cakes. “You just surprise me. Every time I think I have you figured out, you sideswipe me with something else.”

Wes shrugged and dug into his own breakfast. “What can I say? I like to keep you guessing.” He smiled and I swore all those sappy chick flicks I tried to avoid were right. A good man could light up a room and make the world smaller, like something that could fit into the space where your entire focus lives.

“Back to your initial question,” I said around a mouth full of the best pancakes I’d ever eaten—including my own—in my entire life. “I’d like to take a ride on my bike,” I said, and he nodded.

“I’m game. Where we going?”

I grinned and flicked my unruly, morning bedhead hair over my shoulder. “Wherever the bike takes us. It’s not where we go. It’s the journey that counts.”

Wes came around, sat down, and then turned toward me. I faced him, thinking he was going to kiss me. He usually did first thing in the morning, but today was different. Everything about my last day felt so heavy, weighed down by the finality of it. Instead of a kiss, I got a dollop of whipped cream on my nose. “That was deep,” he said deadpan.

I shoved him. “Shut the fuck up!” He laughed.

“Come on, Mia. It’s not the ride, it’s the journey? Where did you come up with that shit? Tell me the truth. It was on the sticker when you bought the bike, right?”

“It’s true though!” I shook my head, and we commenced eating breakfast. Every so often he’d tag my side with his elbow. Not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know he was there and messing with me. If I was being honest with myself, I was going to miss Wes. More than I wanted to admit. A lot more.

***

“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.