Authors: Nikki Mathis Thompson
Tess's back straightened. "He's watching us?"
"You, more than us, I'd gather...he's looking at you like his gentlemanly ways are a thing of the past," Emma said.
"Really?" Tess grinned. They all nodded since they were facing him.
"I can see why you like him so much," Marin stated.
"Who said I liked him that much?" Her friends gave her a look. "Okay. I knew bringing him would be a dead giveaway." Tess smiled and sipped her glass of Pinot. They stood in the corner of the covered patio on the backside of the modest ranch style. The large yard was neatly manicured, with a row of mature trees lining the fence. Alex's parents had strung lights, giving off a romantic ambiance.
"So, you're exclusive?" Marin asked.
"I'm pretty sure. We didn't have the actual, 'are you seeing other people' conversation, but I'm pretty sure it was implied. We both agreed we're dating, so that's what it means to me."
"Are you sure that's what it means to him?" Emma asked.
"You know I don't always trust men, especially if they want to get you into bed. They'll say just about anything, ya know?" Even Marin nodded in agreement. She made love to women, but she'd been hit on enough to know how men operated. "It's weird, guys. I don't know why, but I trust him. Like, really trust him. He's been through a lot and he's raising these girls on his own. I know he doesn't have time to play games, so I'm going with my gut on this one. I just hope it's my gut that's leading me." She winked, making the girls giggle.
"He's really nice, Tess. And he actually has a sense of humor. I didn't know there were funny lawyers," Emma said.
"Not to mention totally gorgeous. Did you pay him or something?" Jen teased.
"Yeah, with her Vagina Visa," Marin joined. They all laughed.
"Ha, ha. I told you hookers that I have yet to see his briefs, nor has he seen mine."
"Nor has he seen mine," Emma, Jen, and Marin said in haughty unison. Pinkies up.
"I have to know, was he this fine in high school?" Emma asked, leaning into the group.
Tess sighed. "Yes, but in a different way. He was hot back then, but now he's just...ya know?"
"Yeah, like the
Thelma and Louise
Brad Pitt compared to the T
roy
Brad Pitt," Jen said. Jen had fostered a mild obsession with the actor since she was a preteen. Him becoming Brangelina and having a dozen kids hadn't dampened her adoration.
"Wes looks nothing like Brad Pitt, but yes, the same concept. Young hotties becoming mature hotties."
"Awe, it just clicked. Wes and Tess. So cute! I bet you doodled that in your little Trapper Keeper," Marin mused.
"What the hell is a Trapper Keeper?" Emma asked. Marin crossed her eyes in response, their decade age gap glaring in that moment.
"Are you guys finished? May I remind you this night is about Jen and her K-Thor," Tess pointed out, in her attempt to steer the conversation away from her love life.
"Ugh, stop calling him that! It's kind of racist," Jen snipped.
"What? He's Korean and he does look like Thor. It's a compliment," Tess said, defending the nickname.
"Besides, you hypocrite, I happen to remember you referring to my last boyfriend as my little chalupa," Emma pointed out.
"You have the worst memory, drunky. I didn't call
him
your little chalupa. I said he wanted to put his tamale in your little chalupa," Jen amended.
Emma turned her head towards Tess and Marin, rolling her eyes. "Oh, my bad, not racist at all."
"Soooo, how's the wedding planning going?" Tess asked. And just like that Jen's eyes glowed as she entered the land of dreamy bride-to-be. All discussion of K-Thor, and more importantly Wes, were shelved for discussions of lace and catering.
Somewhere between the buttercream or the fondant discussion, Jen's mom came over and said a series of rapid sentences, none of which Tess understood, since it was in Korean. Jen nodded. "Ok, Mommy." Her mother was tiny, but had a presence that was far bigger than her stature. Jen's German father had been over six foot when he was alive. They were an unusual couple on paper, but when you saw them together they were adorable, and very much in love. Tess had only seen pictures, but you could tell.
"I need to say goodbye to some relatives," Jen said, and walked after her mom, grabbing Alex's hand on the way.
"I'm going to grab another drink, you guys need anything?" Emma asked.
"No, I'm good. I
am
going to hit the ladies' room, though," Marin said.
"I'm good, thank you." Tess wanted to keep a clear head just in case Wesley finally decided to jump her. A girl could only take so much making out before she needed to get some. She'd surpassed her three date rule over a month ago. She took a sip of her cocktail, deciding to go find her date, hoping that if she rubbed against him enough he'd get with the program. Before she could turn, strong arms wrapped around her waist. She smelled his scent before his lips grazed the shell of her ear. Soap and citrus, with a mild hint of musky aftershave. Her eyes fluttered as she sniffed. It's funny how a smell can trigger an emotional reaction. This particular smell, his smell, triggered all kinds of reaction, most of which were happening south of the border.
"I've been watching you for an hour. Talking, Laughing. Swaying that fine ass." She was glad he couldn't see her face, because her eyes were bugging out. So, he was an ass man after all. "Not touching you was making me crazy." It was a whispered growl that no one heard but her. "You look so beautiful, tonight...I just..."
She leaned into him, letting him nip her neck discreetly. "Touch me then."
They made the quickest round of farewells they could manage without being rude.
The ride home was short, and devoid of conversation. Tess played with the long chain around her neck, while Wesley's hands gripped the steering wheel, ten and twoing it like a good boy. She didn't want the good boy version of him right now, yet she wasn't sure how to get the bad one front and center. There had been a spark of it at the party, but in the quiet of the car she worried it had passed. Like always, he seemed to be reining himself in. Why he intentionally kept giving himself blue balls was anyone's guess. Tonight, she would simple have to up her game. She would't even dwell on the fact that she was having to devise a game plan to persuade a man, a man who'd cupped her boobs and fondled her nethers numerous times, to sleep with her. She'd ponder the alternate universe that was her life another time.
As he walked her to her door, she'd offered him a nightcap. He accepted without hesitation. Despite their hasty departure from the party, they sat like adults, discussing how lovely the party was. How nice her friends were. How delicious the home cooking was. Yes, yes, all very civilized. Tess ran her hand across her neck. Then her finger dipped beneath the silk across her chest. She wasn't trying to be sexy, she wanted him so bad the movements were involuntary, like she had to touch something. He traced the movement and bit his lip. Then they collided into each other. It was a violent crash, lacking finesse. Hands, tongues, groans, She'd wondered earlier if he was an ass or breast man, turns out he was both. In fact, he was having a hard time deciding where to spend his time. He mapped her with his hands and mouth until she was thrashing with frustration. She lifted her hips, attempting to give him a hint. When he continued at her neck and chest, she yelled.
"Wes, please...if you don't put something inside me this minute, I'm going to die!"
His hands complied. It was a start, but soon it wasn't enough. She begged as his mouth took the place of his hands. Her vision blurred while she shook and cried out. Damn, he was good at that. He lifted away and smiled the smug smile of a guy who just made a woman make strange animal sounds. The haze cleared and she realized not only had he stopped, but he was putting his shirt back on.
"Wha-what are you doing?" She sat up, oblivious to her naked state for about three seconds, then put one arm over her chest and the other between her legs, where he'd recently spent thirty minutes treating like an ice cream cone. "Why are you getting dressed? I thought we were..." She shut up, feeling pathetic. Naked and disheveled. What kind of guy goes down on someone, blows their mind, then doesn't have the decency to shag them afterwards? She didn't know that someone could block their own cock.
He smiled, rubbing the top of her bare foot. "I wanted tonight to be about you. Does that sound old-fashioned?"
"Uh, there was nothing old-fashioned about what you just did." Tess didn't mean to pout, but damn it, what did she have to do to get laid? Her eyebrow cocked up and she crawled over to him, letting her hands fall to her sides. She put her hands on the button of his pants. "You see, the thing is, I'm a firm believer in earning my keep." Her fingers moved, reaching inside the warm confines behind the zipper.
"And although I let you pick up the tab, I must insist on going half and half on this."
His feeble protests soon died in his throat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tess pulled the covers under her chin and grinned. The warm body next to her was wrapped on one of her legs. Her triumph was backed by the mild ache she felt in her limbs. She could't remember the last time she'd asked a man to sleep over. But after they'd tangled on her mattress for over an hour, they were both exhausted and it just made sense. She wasn't reading too much into it. They liked each other. They made each other laugh. And they had a lot of chemistry that, halle-freaking-llujah, translated into great sex, which hadn't always been the case in Tess's experience.
She could name several guys she'd felt attracted to. They were good kissers, had swagger, but when it came to doing the deed, pfft...fizzle. Perfect example, Samuel Bell. Totally hot. Smart, artistic, had a soft deep voice that vibrated her girl parts. She knew he was going to light her on fire. The make out sessions had been crazy hot. He had these callused fingers that, just...yes. But when they got naked and he mounted her, yes mounted...not even an ember. He'd seemed pretty sure of his performance, but she had to fake her way out of that one.
On the other side of the coin she'd dated cute guys who she could barely stand to converse with, they were so boring. But then they ended up being rockstars in the bedroom. For example, Trent Anderson who used to work on the first floor of her building. He walked through the lobby like he owned the place. She and Willa had scoped him out for months from their table in the coffee shop. He finally asked her out. She shaved her bits. Then she rolled her eyes through three courses at Manoir Ubert. His favorite topic of conversation was himself and his love of financial spreadsheets. She hadn't had any plans to sleep with him, but after three glasses of Chateau Mont-Reydon, she was feeling dreamy enough to let him kiss her goodnight. The kiss was so good, she decided to invite him in. Besides, she shaved. Turned out his financials checked out...three times.
Neither type lasted long, but it was a numbers game, right? The reason there are so many fish in the sea was because ninety-eight percent of the fish have to be thrown back. So, it's not only rare to find someone that gave her both intellectual stimulation and sexual satisfaction, it was a flipping miracle. Like finding your favorite earring in the grass after a keg party.
It made her giddy to know Wes got a gold star in both categories, because she wanted to keep this fish for a while. She'd built up sex with him in her mind since the tender age of sixteen, when her only knowledge of male/female interaction was gleaned from V.C Andrews novels. The best part was, he was so much more than she'd ever imagined. He was actually a great guy—warm, funny, smart. Topped off with a majestic, yes majestic, penis.
Wesley Caraway was in her bed.
Tess giggled to herself. It was all too surreal. She thought she'd been celebrating in silence, but he moaned and stirred beside her. The movement pulled the sheet down below his navel. Her eyebrows were wiggling.
A bit more, a bit more.
Damn, the man was fine. Toned, with just enough hair to make a sweet trail down to his...endowment. And the man was endowed, remember majestic? Another hallelujah, because all that "it's not the size of the ship" stuff was bull. Every woman knew it, and men knew it too. They made that saying up to make themselves feel better. Much like rain on your wedding day is good luck. Also utter BS. It's not that Tess needed an anaconda, but it sure as hell should be bigger than a ballpark hotdog. Thinking of hotdogs made her stomach growl. She looked over, hoping he hadn't heard. It growled again. Jesus, it sounded like a wolverine. She threw her legs over the edge, but before she could stand an arm wrapped around her, pulling her back into the sheets.
"Where do you think you're going?" His voice was gravelly and oh, so sexy. She leaned onto her arm and took in her bedmate. She didn't think anything could be more appealing than making-her-climax Wes, but the sleep-mussed-half-asleep-Wes was pretty damn irresistible, too. She looked up at the ceiling thinking,
can I keep him, please
?
"I was going to let you sleep a little longer. Sorry if I woke you up."
He pulled her in to his chest, which smelled mouth watering. "If you're ever naked in my vicinity, I want to be awake." And he was, all ten inches of him. Her stomach growled again making him laugh. "Maybe we should get some breakfast first."
"And waste all of that?" She game show gestured. "Never." She rolled him onto his back and by the time she was finished with him, she'd forgotten all about her stomach.
"So, do you like your eggs scrambled or over easy?" she asked, holding a spatula, finally dressed. If you can call wearing Wes's undershirt, sans pants, dressed. She could have grabbed one of her own, but none of those smelled like his cologne. He hadn't answered. "Wes? Eggs?"