Page 87 of Lost and Found

“You don’t think that did something to my body too?”

The corners of his emerald eyes crinkled. “I love everything about your body.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m a little self-conscious.”

Lines creased his forehead. “Why? Because you had a kid?”

“Because I have a C-section scar and stretch marks from where Matt’s head pressed my stomach for so long that they’re still visible like a squiggly red tattoo. Because you look like you run thirty miles a day and bench press as much as I weigh.”

“I have had you twice in front of a mirror. If you’re ever doubting that I like what I see, that might be a good reminder.”

Her cheeks flushed.

His smile broadened. “Yes, sweetness. I like watching you in the mirror.”

“I…um…” She could not believe they were having this conversation. “I like it too.”

“Good to know. Lady’s choice: back in front of the mirror or stay in your bed.”

“Bed.”

“Good.” He toyed with the top of her towel. “Then we’re good to get rid of this?”

Bailey lifted her chin, her heartbeat quickening again. “You’re still wearing pants.”

Wes shucked them to the floor and rolled back to her side, corded with muscles, erection thick and long. He locked eyes with her and unwrapped the towel. “Every time I see you like this…” He tugged it from underneath her and dropped it off the side of the bed. “I realize I can’t get enough of you.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in so long,” she admitted.

He kissed her. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.” She nibbled his bottom lip. Her lungs stuttered as his hand drifted between her legs, stroking her with a deliriously silky touch. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You couldn’t.” His fingers increased their pressure. “Wrap your hands around my cock. See if you think there’s any doubt.”

Vibrating with nerves and need, she wrapped her hands around his thickness.

Wes sucked in a hard breath. “Fuck, baby.”

His breath shook.

She did that to him. Stroking from the base of his shaft to the thick, bulbous head, he was hot and hard and irresistible. She imagined him thrusting into her, and growing more confident, she teased him, changing pressure and the way her hands worked over him. She watched what made his breath stutter and what made his eyelashes flutter. All the while, his fingers never stopped moving between her legs.

They played. They explored and tasted and worshipped until she couldn’t breathe from wanting him inside her body. “Please.”

He understood, just like he got so much else about her, and sheathed himself with a condom.

Wes moved his powerful, sinewy body over her, caging her head between his muscled forearms, and sank between her thighs. His hardness pressed between them, and Bailey lifted her arms above her head. Wes locked her hands in his and flexed the crown of him against her heat.

He brushed kisses over her lips. His eyes held hers as he achingly entered her, filling her, pushing into her one breath-stealing inch at a time. Lips parting, gasping at the overwhelming penetration, her head rolled to the side. The bliss. The pressure. She couldn’t catch her breath.

“Fuck, Bailey,” he whispered. “Take me just like that.”

She nodded, pleasure building with every thrust, every inch until Wes had given her all of him and stilled, seated deep inside her.

She opened her eyes and fell into the emerald green of his. He was more than anything she understood. And then he kissed her like he worshipped her. Like he needed her. Like she was the only woman in the world who could possibly be right for him.

He drove into her, bringing her higher and higher as she fought to keep her moaning, crying, gasping pleas of his name to herself. Her fingers tightened with his, gripping like they were holding on to their sanity as he fucked her into oblivion.