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“I thought that’s what you did earlier today.”
“Well, now I’m calling. What’s your hand say, Summer?”
Summer lifted her hands over her head in invitation. “I guess you’re going to have to see for yourself.”
A hoarse groan left his lips at the sight of Summer lying beneath him with her hair fanned out across her pillowcase. She was beautiful. So fucking beautiful his steel rod turned into a tent pole in seconds.
“I was serious the other night at the lake. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret this, or act like it’s just some kind of blowing-off-steam situation where we’re caught up in the events of the day kind of bullshit.”
Her eyes went wide at the absoluteness in his voice. “What does that even mean?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to figure it out if you are. But you’d better be fucking serious because I’m not looking for a friends-with-benefits kind of thing tonight.”
“What are you looking for?” she whispered and, god, he wanted to be inside her—like now. But not until he got confirmation that he wouldn’t be some insignificant screw in her life. He’d been insignificant all his life and refused to be that ever again. Especially with this woman.
If he took his dick out of the equation, he could admit to himself that if he wasn’t careful he could easily fall for this woman.
Hard and fast.
His heart felt like it was on the Gravatron, spinning faster than gravity, and he’d lost control over his body and then suddenly the bottom dropped out.
You’re encroaching on falling territory, you idiot.
Yet he wasn’t running away. Nope, he was sliding his palm up her stomach and over her tits, and her nipples immediately beaded at the attention, as if begging him to lavish them with his tongue.
“Wes,” she said on a moan, arching into his hand.
“What will it be, love?”
“We argue all the time.”
“Thirty-nine times to be exact. Which means we have thirty-nine times of makeup sex in our future. We can bang out some tonight, right now. All you have to say is this isn’t a one-time thing.”
“This isn’t a one-time thing. And I don’t know what this is, but I want to figure it out. Together.”
That was all he needed to hear. Neither of them was committing to forever, but they knew this wasn’t some meaningless one-night stand. He’d had enough of them over the years, and in the months after his breakup, and now he wanted something real. With all the bullshit and deceit in his life, he needed a taste of something honest and sweet. Something pure that he could hold onto.
“Do you still hate me, love?”
“How could you ask that?”
“Because just last week you were leading a petition to get my business shut down and you called me a crumpet.”
She cupped his cheek and he pressed into her hand as if he needed the reassurance. “A lot can change in a week.”
He pulled her nightshirt up to the underside of her breasts and ran his nose through her cleavage, breathing her in, then met her gaze once again. “You going to tell me exactly what changed and where I stand so we can finally fuck until the sun comes up?”
As if of its own accord her groin arched up to meet his erection, and they both groaned at the sensation of the physical connection.
“I want to fuck until we shatter the sheetrock,” she said, and in the slight moonlight filtering through the window he could see her blush.
“Even it if takes days?”
“Even if it takes weeks.”
His heart pulsed so hard every limb went on high alert. She was talking like there would be some kind of future for them. A knot of panic and relief tied itself inside up in his chest. Of course she was speaking of the future—she wanted a fairy-tale romance. Something he couldn’t offer her, even on the best of days. Not with the upcoming expansion and him moving his home base back to London.
“I’m still leaving in the next few months. Maybe even earlier now that the grand opening has been moved up.”