Every Kiss (29 page)

Not with Wes. Hell, he has so many moods that it could be
like having sex with a different guy every time. And it’s so much more intense
with him. He pushes me out of my comfort zone a little bit and surprises the
hell out of me when I like it. I have a feeling there’s not much this man won’t
try.

I tilt my head back, my mind completely adrift in a dark
void. The more I feel, the more I
want
to feel. Rubbing my hand down his
smooth chest, over every ridge, every valley, down to the top of his shorts. He
starts to pull away, but I grab hold of his waistband before he can, slipping
just inside the thin fabric before I feel the weight of him. Thick, hot, and
satiny soft. Wrapping my fingers around him, I give a firm squeeze before
sliding all the way down the length. That one, simple motion causes a chain
reaction. His hand moves against me more frantically. His hips lunge forward,
and he releases my tender nipple to let out an almost guttural moan.

“Damn it, Callie.” He jerks back, causing my hand to fall
away, and he moves away from me, completely ceasing all action. I’m almost hurt
by it until he reaches over to grip both sides of my shorts and jerking them
down my legs impatiently, taking my panties off in the same manner. “I can’t
wait to be inside you any longer. I want to own you, body and soul. I need to
make you mine. You’re
mine
, Callie. Say it.”

There’s an almost feral look in his eyes, but there’s also
fear creeping in around the edges. Fear of being abandoned by someone he loves
again. Fear of a broken heart. “I’m yours. Always.”

After pushing his shorts off his hips, Wes moves quick,
settling over me and immediately finding my mouth in a blindingly passionate
kiss. I’m so lost in the way his tongue is dipping deeply between my lips that
I barely notice his hand move between us, pressing the rigid length between the
aching flesh at the apex of my thighs. I immediately wiggle my hips, trying
hard to get more than he’s giving, but he doesn’t give in. He just gives a
wicked chuckle and moves his hand up to grip my hip firmly.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m going to give you all you want. Anytime
you want it.”

And he sure as hell does.

Before I can even take another breath, he pushes inside of
me, pounding so deep that I go completely mindless, all I know is the solid
heat filling me, owning me, just as he said. Over and over, he slips out just
to the very end and thrusts back inside again in a powerful, relentless rhythm.
His hands and mouth are all over me—touching, nipping, pinching—while I lie
here helplessly, completely bound to his merciless spell.

The tension is building slowly, fluidly. Promising to send
me over the edge with the next thrust. But somehow, he knows and suddenly slows
his pace, only moving millimeter by millimeter. And driving me absolutely
freaking crazy. He keeps the release just out of reach, changing his pace just enough
to keep me teetering at the edge, begging for more.

“Please,” I plead with him. “I need . . . I . . .”

“Shhh,” he soothes, taking both of my hands and pinning them
over my head, making the curve of his bicep even more pronounced. Linking his
fingers with mine, he dives in again for another deep kiss before his hooded
gaze finds mine.

“I love you.” My voice is barely there, but he understands.

Wes flashes a brilliant grin. “If I didn’t know any better,
I’d think you were just saying that to get what you want from me. But I love
you too.”

Oh, yeah? Two can play at this game. “So prove it.”

“Well-played.” His grin turns into something wicked,
mischievous. “But that’s something I look forward to doing every damn day.”

Wes’ grip tightens on my hands as he thrusts his hips again,
filling me more deeply than before, but finding his same rhythm. But this time,
he picks up his pace, instead of slowing it down when I feel my body tighten
inside. The slow burn builds into an unquenchable fire, and it spreads until I’m
completely consumed by it. I begin to match his pace, lifting my hips to meet
him.

“Damn,” he growls into my neck. “You feel so good. I—
oh,
hell
. . .” His hips thrust again, rolling a little before repeating. “Now,
Callie.”

Knowing he’s that close, knowing he’s right on the edge with
me, it’s all I need to let go. It’s all I need to be pulled under into that
oblivion I’ve been trying so hard to reach. Every burning, throbbing spasm
sends me into yet another. I hear screaming long before I ever realize it’s my
own voice, and Wes’ own gasps and moans are almost loud enough to drown out my
own.

Finally, he collapses on top of me, barely able to catch a
breath. I feel limp but weightless . . . and oh-so-good. My legs are quivering,
my heart is racing, and my body is slick with sweat. Wes clings to me
helplessly, and I feel like we’ve finally reached a point where we’re
completely open and vulnerable with one another. And there’s only one thing
left that I need to clarify with him.

“I’m not just yours, Wesley Baxter,” I say breathlessly.
“You’re mine.”

“YOU WANT TO come over tonight? I’ll
be ready to leave in just a bit, so I’ll even come pick you up.”

“Hmm . . . I don’t know.” I know I’m not fooling Wes, but
it’s fun anyway. “You’ll probably get back from the hospital late, and you have
to work tomorrow.”

Wes has gone back to the hospital the last three days to
spend time with Chesley. He doesn’t tell me much about what they talk about,
but I do know it makes him happy. But then again, I’m pretty happy, too. After
he finally admitted his feelings for me on Saturday night, he’s a completely
different person. He wanted to spend all day Sunday with me, and then when he
went back to work yesterday, he called me during his lunch break and as soon as
he got home. I’m more than ready to see him, even if it’s for five minutes.

“I’m taking the afternoon off tomorrow. You can stay with me
tonight and sleep in as late as you want, and when I get home, we’ll get out
and do something—go shopping, get some dinner, maybe see a movie. I want to
take you out.”

Interesting. “Well, Mr. Baxter, if I didn’t know any better,
I’d say you were taking me on a date.”

The soft huff of his laughter comes through my phone’s
speaker. “I am. If we’re going to do this, Cal, I want to do it right. Not just
have you come to my place so I can get you naked.”

Oddly enough, that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever
said to me. It shows that he really does want this relationship to work. He
really does want to be with me. “Well, I’m up for anything as long as it
involves being with you. But on a side note, the getting naked with you is one
of my favorite parts.”

“Mine, too,” he says, low and gravelly. “I have to ask,
though, what do your parents think about you staying the night with me? Have you
even told them where you were Saturday night? Hell, do they even know about
me
?”

“Umm . . .”

“
Callie
.”

I’ve never had a boyfriend—oh, wow, is he really my
boyfriend?—that worried about my parents’ approval before. Once I went to
college, they trusted me enough to make my own decisions, and they gave me the
respect of not grilling me about it either. “They haven’t asked, so I haven’t
said anything. They don’t worry too much about what I do. I’m a big girl.”

“So what you’re saying is, when I come over to pick you up
later, they won’t have a damn clue who I am?”

He sounds a little irritated about it. Hell, I haven’t even
told Makenna we’re together yet because I don’t want her to freak. “Not really,
no. Before you even say it,
no
, I’m not ashamed of you or anything. They
just both work a lot, and I don’t see them all that much. It just hasn’t come
up.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Will they be there around six?”

“I doubt it, but maybe. It’s hard to know for sure.”

“Call them. Find out. See if you can get them home by then.
Otherwise, I’ll skip the hospital tonight and wait until they get home. I don’t
feel good about them not knowing.”

“Yeah, uh, okay.” What the hell is this all about? “But why?
I don’t understand.”

“Cal,” he begins, his voice softening, “I want to make a
serious effort at this. I know it’s too early to tell what our future holds,
but I’m going to give it everything I have. I love you. I want to be with you.
And if, down the road, we become something more, I want to have your parents’
blessing . . . their respect. That starts right now. I don’t want them thinking
this is just casual sex.”

“Seriously, Wes, they won’t think anything about it.”

“Call them, Callie. I won’t budge on this.” And the sharp
determination in his voice tells me he won’t.

“Okay. See you at six.”

I hang up the phone, more than a little confused. I don’t
really understand the urgency behind him needing to meet my parents today, but
I also know him well enough to realize that he’ll get his way, one way or
another, no matter what I think about it. Knowing that he’ll be meeting my
parents makes me incredibly nervous. What if they don’t like each other? I know
my mom will immediately spaz because I’ve never really brought guys home to
meet them. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and neither of them will be home until really
late. Then we can just postpone it.

“Hey, sweetie. Something wrong?” Mom’s phone voice is overly
chipper. Something that always makes me insane.

“No, why?”

“You never call me while I’m at work. Did you need
something?”

“Yeah,” I draw out longer than necessary. “When will you be
home tonight?”

“Well, I just saw my last patient, so I’m about to head out
the door.” Her keys jingle when she picks them up. “Want me to pick up
something for dinner?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. “Uh, well, maybe. Have you talked to dad
to see if he’ll be home for dinner?”

“I suspect he’ll be there in time. What’s going on with you?
You’re being weird.”

I rest my head in my hand, squeezing my eyes closed. “I, uh
. . . yes, bring dinner home. Enough for four.”

“Well, jeez, Callie. If you’re having Makenna over, just say
so. You know we don’t care. I’ll call something in and be home soon.”

She hangs up the phone before I can tell her she’s wrong. At
least, this way, she won’t be questioning me until Wes gets here. I’ll just let
it be a surprise. I open my eyes again, taking notice of my grey yoga pants.
Probably not the best thing to wear when a guy comes over to meet your parents.

I throw a glance at the clock before I walk down the hall to
my room. I can be dressed and get my room straightened up in plenty of time.
I’m pretty sure my band t-shirts are out of the question, so I move to the back
of my closet where all of my dressy—rarely worn— clothes are. My mom has been
pushing me to wear dresses for years, so she’s always buying them when she sees
one I might like.

I slide hanger after hanger down the rod, snarling at each
one. Yeah, this dress thing isn’t going to happen . . . oh wait, this one isn’t
too bad. It’s a simple summery dress with thin straps at the shoulders. Its
delicate pattern of pale blue flowers is offset by the black leather belt at
the waist along with the leather piping around the bottom, making it feminine
but a little edgy. After slipping it on, I shove my feet into a pair of black
flats and check myself out in the mirror. God, I look weird. Good, but weird.
Wearing dresses to a formal event is one thing, but wearing a dress for no
reason is another. It does fit well, though, and it also shows off my curves
better than a t-shirt does.

I sigh. Fine. I’m wearing it.

I run a brush through my hair, spritz on a little perfume,
and put on another coat of mascara. I’ve never been one to wear a lot of
makeup, so I know my mom will know something is up for sure if she sees me in a
dress
and
full makeup. I do think I need a little jewelry, though, so I
dig through my little box, immediately coming across the onyx earrings and
necklace that Wes got for me.

I put them on and smile. He’ll really like this.
I
like
this.

I’m just finishing straightening my room when I hear the
door open. After taking one last look in the mirror, knowing how much my mom is
going to freak when she sees this, I head toward the sound of rustling takeout
bags.

“Hey, baby, I picked up lasagna and salad. Is that okaaaa .
. . whoa. You’re wearing a dress.”

I shrug. “Yeah, I decided to start acclimating myself to
dresses and slacks since I only have a year left of wearing yoga pants and
jeans to classes.” Hmm, good save. And probably not a bad idea.

Mom pulls a bag of rolls out and drops them onto the
counter, staring at me in that sickening, motherly way. “My baby girl is
growing up. Next thing you know, you’ll be bringing a man over here, saying
you’re in
loooove
.”

I immediately start choking on absolutely nothing, which
gets me a strange look of concern from my mom.

“I know.
After
college. Relax . . . I’m not naming my
grandchildren. Yet.”

Oh God. I’m going to throw up now. Knowing that Wes will be
here soon is making me nauseated, and my mom is only making it worse.

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of coming home to find
the two most gorgeous women in the world right in my kitchen?” Dad strolls into
the kitchen from the garage, immediately kissing my mom on the cheek. “And you
made my favorite lasagna, too.”

Mom screws up her face, looking at him like he’s totally
lost it. “I didn’t make it. This is from Venecetti’s.”

“I know.” Dad winks at me. “It’s as close to cooking as you
usually get, so I’m giving you credit for
making
the trip to pick it
up.”

She slaps him with a dishtowel before he circles around the
island to hug me. “You look nice, Callie Lily. What’s the occasion?”

I haven’t heard that nickname in a while, but I love it when
he calls me that. It reminds me of being a little girl.
His
little girl.
“Oh, you know . . . just being a girl for a change.”

“Well, as much as it pains me to say it, you’re not just a
girl anymore.”

I just almost think about blushing, but the doorbell ringing
halts every thought, every movement. This is it. I’m about to introduce my
parents to Wes, and I’m scared out of my ever-loving mind. I just don’t know
how they’ll react.

“Callie, what is
wrong
with you? Go let Makenna in,
you goofy girl.” Mom puts her fists on her hips and stares at me incredulously.

Dad grabs a roll and pops a piece in his mouth. “Oh, good. I
didn’t know she was joining us. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

The doorbell rings again.

“Mom . . . Dad . . .” I turn to face them. “It’s not
Makenna.
Please
be nice, okay?”

They look at each other, silently contemplating on whether
or not they’re going to admit me into a psychiatric ward somewhere, I’m sure.
Taking a deep breath, I gather my strength to cross the room toward the front
door, straightening my dress before I pull the knob and step out on the front
step.

As soon as I see him, as soon as I see his gentle smile, all
of my worries fade away. I know that they’ll love him as much as I do because
they’ll see what I do in him. He’s the most incredible man I’ve ever known.

“Hi, beautiful.” Wes steps forward to kiss my forehead.
“Wow. You’re gorgeous.”

My eyes drift over him from top to bottom. He’s still in his
suit, but without the jacket, and he looks as ridiculously delicious as he
always does. “Hi, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Are they here?”

“Yes,” I whisper, leaning in enough to catch a hint of his
cologne. The dark, musky scent makes my heart skip a beat or two. “But I
haven’t told them yet.”

“Damn it, Callie.” Letting out an irritated sigh, he narrows
his eyes before peering past me into the cracked door. “Throwing me to the
wolves, eh?”

“Oh, kiss my ass. You’ll be fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Just as I’m turning back toward the door, he grabs my elbow and pulls me back
just enough to snag my lips in a fiery kiss.

He smirks when he releases me. “God, I’ve missed that big,
opinionated mouth,” he growls hungrily, reminding me of when he told me that
before.

Before I get myself in big trouble by jumping him right here
on my porch, I bump the door open with my hip and step inside, grabbing Wes’
hand as I go. I drag him toward the kitchen while Mom and Dad watch in
astonishment. “Mom. Dad. I want you to meet Wes . . . uh, Wesley Baxter.”

Wes reaches out to firmly shake both of their hands while
they exchange greetings. He speaks to them easily, with an unnerving amount of
confidence. “Please, call me Wes. It’s nice to finally meet you both.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. We’re just getting ready to set
the table for dinner. I hope you like lasagna.”

He rubs a thumb just under my wrist, sending chills all the
way up my arm. “That sounds great. Would you like some help?”

Mom’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. I
know the feeling. “Oh, no, but thank you. Callie and I will take care of all of
that, and you two guys can sit here in the living room and talk.” A.K.A. I want
Callie alone, so I can dig for details and so Dad can size him up.

I barely turn into the dining room before Mom corners me
just inside the door, gripping the tops of my shoulders. “Who is this guy? Are
you dating him? Why haven’t you told me?”

“He’s Wes. I think so. And I just haven’t thought about it.”

Both eyebrows raise over her widened eyes. “You
think
so?”

“I mean, yes . . . it’s sort of a new thing, so I haven’t
really put a label on it yet. It’s not something we’ve discussed.”

“Hmm,” she says, twisting her mouth to the side. “So when
you didn’t come home Saturday night . . .”

No sense in lying about it. “I spent the night with him.”