Page 85 of Lost and Found

Would a glimpse of real life chase him away? It wasn’t as if they’d dressed up for a date and ended up back at her place. She was a tired mom wanting a quick refresh after a long day. What if that was too much for him? Though he’d never given any indication. But she also couldn’t understand how he could be so sure about what he wanted without knowing what her life was like. “Will you be there when I’m done?”

“Whatever you want.” He studied her face, then kissed her softly. “I could use a shower too. Then I’ll meet you in your bedroom.”

Her room. His room. Tonight, she wanted it to be their room. Though that wasn’t the first time she’d thought that. Sleeping next to Wes in New Jersey and waking up to him the next morning had been more than she understood she needed. He’d rejuvenated part of her soul. “I won’t take too long.”

“Take as long as you want, baby.”

She traced her fingers over the short-clipped shadow of rough hair on his cheeks. “I like when you call me that.”

“Good.” He lifted her off his lap, took her hand and her tea, and led the way up the dark hall.

Wes set the tea on the nightstand. Bailey flipped on the bathroom light and stifled a groan in the mirror. She looked like a woman who’d been running around all day with a five-year-old. She had packed more flattering clothes and could have brushed her hair instead of twisting it into a quick ponytail, bumps on display like a crown of tangles.

Wes leaned against the bathroom doorframe. “What’s up? Need something you don’t have?”

“No.” She gestured to her change of clothes. “I didn’t realize it actually looked like the day ran over me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I appreciate you saying that, but I can see what’s in front of me.”

“Then you’re not looking at the same mirror I am.” He turned her so she faced the reflection. “Everything I see is beautiful. Powerful. Feminine.”

“That’s enough,” she said self-consciously.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.” He dipped his mouth against her ear, still watching her in the mirror, his lips tickling the sensitive skin. “You get me so turned on I don’t know what to do with myself.”

She wanted to tell him to cut it out but couldn’t form words as he kissed down her neck. There was no doubt about his arousal. Wes tugged her shirt off and dropped it to the floor. His fingers toyed with the hem of her shorts, slowly scraping the waist down her hips and thighs until he let them go.

“I can’t get enough of you.” His hands roved over her sides and her stomach, watching her in the mirror as though he thought her curves that she hid under baggy dresses and her mismatched bra and underwear looked good pressed against him.

Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled. Her breath shook as she let it out. Wes slid his hand down her stomach, slipping into her underwear.

“I really should take a shower,” she managed.

“Give me just a minute. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

God, she didn’t want him to go anywhere. Wes stroked between her legs while keeping his eyes locked on hers. His fingertips caressed her clit. Her breath caught.

“Keep your eyes on mine, Bailey.”

She nodded, wordlessly promising that she would.

His fingers danced against her, driving her wild, spinning her higher. “God, that’s…”

“Good?” Arousal slicked his fingers, and he circled and stroked her clit.

“Yes.” She writhed, wishing his fingers would push inside her, needing to feel the heel of his palm press against her while his fingers fucked her.

“Just another minute,” he whispered against her ear. One hand teased between her legs and the other massaged her breast.

“Wes.”

Two fingers flexed into her. Her eyes shut. Her head rolled back against him. He withdrew his fingers and thrust into her again. Bailey was lost to the sensations. She wasn’t even sure if she was standing on her own. Her eyes fluttered open. She didn’t recognize herself as the woman in Wes’s arms. That Bailey was alive in a way that she couldn’t imagine.

“Let go.”

Her lips parted. Her muscles tightened as the orgasm built. She wanted to chant his name but couldn’t string the simple syllable together. Then the climax came, and she cried out.