Page 2
“This is crazy. You’re here but not here,” Wes said. “I don’t underst—”
“Sshh.” I put my hand to his mouth and sighed at the feel of his lips against any part of my skin. “Please. I don’t want to talk.”
Wes looked down at me, his arms tightening around me. “What do you want, Tara? What can I do?”
The fog felt thicker, like a blanket pulled tight, and I welcomed the swaddling. It’d been so long since any contact felt good.
I met Wes’s eyes and, despite the weeks apart, utter trust and overflowing love sprung instantly to every hidden and damaged corner of my insides. And I knew exactly what I wanted from this hour. “Touch me,” I whispered.
His eyes flickered with hesitation. “Tara…”
We’d been at this crossroads before and turned back. And I’d let it go, knowing there’d be time later for being together this way. But I couldn’t bear the thought of turning back now. Not when the only uncertainty was whether we’d ever get another chance like this one again.
“Please,” I added.
Wes let out a low growl somewhere between frustration and acceptance; it sent a thrill through me. God, I’d missed that growl. “You know I can’t tell you no. Not like this,” he said.
He leaned down and I arched up so that our mouths met halfway. It was the most delicious, most amazing, most luxurious sensation I could remember. His hands trailed over my arms and slid around my back, hugging me closer. But it wasn’t enough. This was my single hour of escape and I intended to take as much as I could back with me when I went.
My hands slid up his arms, his muscles rippling underneath my touch. I pressed myself closer and slid my hands higher, over his bare shoulders, before clasping them together behind his neck. My fingers sank into his bronzed-brown hair. Vaguely, I was thankfully aware that somehow this dream came complete with bathed skin and clean clothes. God, I hoped it had also given me shaved legs.
But then Wes lifted and resettled me so that I was centered on his lap and all worry was forgotten. There was only his kiss, the feel of him pressed against me—hard and taut and completely mine—and my unending love for this Werewolf boy I’d met in an alley so long ago.
The kiss melted from deep to needy. His mouth was insistent on mine, teasing my lips open before his tongue flicked out to brush over my bottom lip. My fingertips went still against his skin and gripped his shoulder blades.
It wasn’t enough. I needed more.
As if in answer to the thought, his hands reached for the hem of my shirt and lifted it over my head. As soon as my arms were free, they returned to roam over his skin. He tossed the scrap of fabric sideways and it disappeared into the fog that licked at the edges of the bed. I waited impatiently while his fingers fumbled to unhook my bra and when that was cast aside, I pressed myself against him.
Torso to torso, our skin heated and hummed with the contact.
My hands traveled lower, over his rippling abs and down to his hips. When my fingertips met bare skin below his waistline I leaned away in surprise. My brows creased and Wes flashed a wickedly delicious grin. “I sleep naked. I never told you?”
I laughed and the sound of it was strangely wonderful in my own ears. How long had it been since I laughed? And all it took was five minutes with Wes. My Wes. Teasing, playful, and sexy as hell.
“God, I’ve missed your laugh,” he said, pulling me in and burying his face in my hair while he held me.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered back.
For a moment, we stayed that way. Embracing. My eyes blurred with hot tears as I wondered how much longer this dream would last. But I shoved them back and swallowed my sadness. I wouldn’t think like that. Not now.
In the silence, Wes stroked my hair. Even at the innocent gesture, tension and need still pulsed between us. It felt softer now, more patient, but it was there. Just like it had been all along. I tucked myself into the crook of his neck and kissed him lightly in the hollow of his shoulder. He shivered and the reaction spurred me on.
Wound tight, I trailed kisses up his jawline, thrilling at the way his smooth skin gave way to textured stubble along his chin, and, finally, the silky smoothness of his lips. The moment our lips met, the fire returned, more insistent than ever.
His mouth was fervent on mine, his fingertips trailing from my shoulders down my bare back and teasing at my hips. Slowly, they began to trail upward from my belly button. Anticipation, hot and tortured, built below my stomach as his hands made their way higher. Over my ribs and up to my breasts. His thumb brushed my nipple, already hardened and aching, and I shuddered.
“Wes,” I managed. It was a plea and an answer all in one.
He took my breasts in his hands, cupping and massaging them before taking my nipple again between his fingers. My breath caught and I wanted to melt into a puddle and never leave this place. From somewhere deep inside me, a sound broke free—a moan that ended in a sigh—and Wes broke our kiss to capture my nipple between his lips. He took turns nipping and licking and sucking the tender skin. I threw my head back with the ecstasy of it.
“Wes,” I said again, breathless now with the aching.
He let out another growl, louder than before. And, with far less restraint than he’d ever used, he picked me up by the hips and thrust us both backward against the pillows. He lowered himself over me, his gaze heating my skin and sending goose bumps over the parts of me that were currently bared.
The blanket slid away, revealing all of him as he hovered over me. From his rippled abdomen to his throbbing erection, I drank him in. I could feel his eyes on me, doing the same. And still, all I wanted was to show him more. Flesh for bared flesh.
His fingers hooked the edge of my pants and tugged.
