The Fastest Way to Fall(80)

“Sorry,” I said, tossing the traitorous thing to the floor.

“Don’t apologize for less clothing.” He met my smile, his hands traversing my bare belly, my back, down my spine to massage my backside, and then up. “You always make me laugh, Britta.” He kissed me again, lips exploring as he cupped my breasts, kneading while his kiss kept me planted in place, his thumbs rubbing over my nipples with just the right balance of speed and pressure, mixing it up just enough to keep me anticipating his next stroke.

“That’s not my goal when I’m in my underwear, Wes.” I unbuckled his belt, and he let me take over, pushing his pants over his muscled thighs to reveal black boxer briefs, the fabric bulging and misshapen.

He followed my movements, gaze flicking between my hand and my chest. “I fell in love with you when you made me laugh,” he murmured.

I froze and my eyes flashed to his, the light from the city below giving the room a soft glow. “What?”

“You heard me.” He held my gaze, his eyebrows lifting slightly before he pushed his briefs down, his thick erection springing free.

“Did I?” A hundred dirty thoughts flashed in my head because Oh. My. God.

He climbed on the bed, pulling me down to the mattress with him. Wes smelled like soap and Scotch, and I inhaled the oddly satisfying combination while sliding my fingers through the smattering of chest hair and tracing the hard muscle of his abdomen. His words still hung in the air, and his lips met my neck again, while he reached behind me to unsnap my bra. Tossing the material aside, he held my breasts reverently, rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re quiet,” he said against my skin, before trailing his lips down, dotting tiny kisses in circles around my nipples before taking one into his mouth. His tongue paused, and he let his mouth hover over my sensitive, peaked flesh. “Is this okay?”

A whimper escaped my lips as I nodded. I expected it to feel weird being naked with him, to have him see me—all of me—but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. “You said . . .” I trailed off, lost in the pleasure of his tongue.

He took my other nipple in his mouth, his free hand sliding over my belly and easing my thighs apart.

My head fell back with the wave of sensations from his tongue and fingers, the anticipation as he stroked the insides of my thighs and then the wet fabric between my legs. “Do you want my fingers here?”

When I nodded, he dragged his knuckle back and forth, creating the most delicious friction. I’d dreamed and fantasized about how that friction would feel, but my imagination didn’t do him justice.

His tongue whorled around my nipple again, and he slid his fingers inside my panties to stroke my wet folds before pulling the fabric down my thighs. My nipple came away from his lips with a pop, and he took the other into his mouth. I bucked against his hand, shameless. I cried out, squirming, wanting more, wanting everything. I ran my hand roughly through his hair. “You said you . . .”

His fingers were long, but his strokes were gentle. I was aware of every moment and lost in his heat at the same time. Wes’s thumb circled my clit before one long finger dipped back into me with aching restraint, again and again.

All thought left me. This is how I go out. I’m dying. I’m dead.

Pops of color flashed, and sensations overtook me—he pressed against my walls, his thumb teasing, his mouth on me. I was so ready. My body rose, and heat gathered low in my belly. Still, his words circled me.

“You said,” I panted again, meeting his eyes.

“I said,” he repeated, sliding a second finger inside me, stretching me and pressing against the tight bundle of nerves. His expression was hooded, the intensity in his eyes flashing when my body reacted to the new sensation. “I fell in love with you.”

I cried out, so close to exploding under his touches. I met his fingers with my hips, seeking more, wanting just a little more to push me over the edge.

He thrust his fingers faster, his thumb against my clit and his words in my ear. “I’m in love with you.”

I cracked, hearing the echo of his words over and over as my body lit up in hundreds of flashes of bright light.

“Britta, I love you,” he repeated into my ear as I came down, body reeling, surrounded by his heat. “There was probably a more romantic time to say that, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”





48





I HADN’T PLANNED to tell her I loved her, and definitely hadn’t planned to do it while edging her to orgasm with my fingers, but my plans seemed to matter less and less when I was around her. The entire night had been one surprise after another, and learning she was the one writing the story about the mentoring program was completely unexpected.

When Britta’s trembling subsided, she sank into the pillows, her body limp and cheeks flushed. “I knew you’d be good at that,” she said in a breathy voice.

I planted gentle kisses on her shoulder and collarbone. “Oh?”

“I’ve been fantasizing about your touches since the first time you gave me a back rub.” She slid her fingers down my chest, slowing over my stomach.

When she wrapped them around my erection, giving an experimental stroke, I closed my eyes against the rush of pleasure. I should have slowed down to consider what it meant that I’d confessed I loved her and she hadn’t said it back, but I ached to be inside her and it was all-consuming. I reached for a condom in my nightstand and rolled to my back. “I’ve been fantasizing about you on top of me.”