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“Beauty, I told you a long time ago never to lie to me. And that includes keeping things from me that you think I don’t want to hear. So, tell me what’s wrong before I have to come up with another way to get it out of you.”
CALLISTA
A shudder of anticipation rolls through me.
Shit.
I hate when he does that, when he makes me those sultry, sensual promises because I know I’ll cave. There is no keeping anything from Weston, especially when he’s in Beast mode.
Not that I want to keep this particular tidbit of information from him. I’ve just been unsure how to broach the topic for the last few days.
I reach out and take the coffee from his hand.
He glances down. “You want some?”
Shaking my head, I set it on the table beside us. “No, I just don’t think you should be holding hot liquid when I tell you this.”
Visuals of the mug falling from his hand and shattering on the floor, splashing it up over us, flash through my head.
Definitely a good idea to take it away.
His eyes darken, worry making the lines on his forehead and around his eyes grow deeper. “You’re scaring the shit out of me, Beauty. Just tell me already.”
“Well…” I gulp, trying to find the courage I had when I came up here with every intent to have this conversation, anyway. “You remember that day in the woods?”
Weston’s brow furrows deeper. “Which day in the woods?”
My body heats, thinking of all the times we’ve ended up naked in the trees in the last several weeks, despite the property being covered with FBI agents. The very real possibility of getting caught seems to only drive Weston’s urge to play that particular game more—and I can’t say I haven’t been one hundred percent on board with it, too.
“That day. In the rain…”
A grin curls his lips, and he brushes my hair behind my ear, letting his hand linger on my cheek. “Of course, Beauty. How could I ever forget it?”
I sure as hell never could.
That moment will be ingrained in my mind for the rest of my life, no matter how many more times we play that little game, no matter how many ways and places around the house he takes me like that. That particular day meant something that none of the rest of them did.
Now, even more so.
“Well, you know I had been here about a month when that happened…”
He nods. “Yes…”
Shit.
This is so much harder than I thought it would be.
Weston watches me expectantly, his eyes locked on me intensely, which makes it even harder to talk.
“Um, well, when I came up the mountain, I did it very abruptly, as you know, and just kind of threw a few things into my bag. Some clothes, basic necessities—”
His lips curve into a sly grin. “But you spent the time to put on that little black dress that left nothing to the imagination and the fuck-me pumps.”
I grin at him. “I did.”
“Yet, now, you’re telling me you don’t want any more of them, even if I like them?”
“It isn’t that I don’t want more of them. It’s just that I’m not so sure I can wear them much longer.”
