Wanted: Devil Dogs MC (23 page)

“Pretty much.” Mike’s response is equally full of humor. “I think the professors are even a little scared of her.”

The smile the men exchange throws her completely off guard. “It’s nice everyone’s bonding and all that, but -”

“I know, I know. I’m going.” Wes holds his hands up in surrender, but she doesn’t miss the heart-stopping grin he throws her before he disappears down the hallway in the direction of his old bedroom.

“And I’m sitting.” Mike imitates Wes’s pose and sits down hard on the wooden chair, crossing his arms and looking at her expectantly.

Now that they’ve actually done what Isabel has asked, she feels a little at a loss of what to do next.
Focus, Bishop, focus.
She takes a deep breath, deciding whether she should speak from her head or from her heart. Looking into Mike’s eyes that look bluer than ever before, she knows what she has to do. She opens her mouth and speaks.

Isabel hugs herself, still reeling a little from the conversation she’s just had with Mike. She bites her bottom lip as she stands outside Wesley’s bedroom door. She’s lifted her hand to knock more than once, but she hasn’t been able to follow through. By the time she and Mike had finished talking and Isabel had focused her thoughts back onto Wesley for the second part of what is going to definitely go down in history as the day she made one of the biggest decisions of her life if not
the
biggest, she isn’t even sure if he was still there. It isn’t hard to imagine that Wesley has lost interest in waiting around and has just walked right out the back door, leaving again just like he had before.

That’s partly why she’s still standing outside his room, frozen to the spot, scared to go in. Because, for now, she can still believe that he’s inside, that he hasn’t left again. But once she knocks and he doesn’t answer, that’s when it becomes real again that he’s left without her being able to explain.

“Are you going to stand out there all day or are you actually going to come in?” His voice through the door makes her spirits rise and she can’t help smiling to herself that he could sense her presence, the same way she knows whenever he walks into a room. It is as if the air itself changed, as if the molecules vibrated whenever he is close by.

She pushes the door open and finds him prowling around the room, pacing like a caged animal. He’s not a man that is used to being still, that is something she learned about him from early on. She’d also learned that he tended to pace when he was nervous.

“So, how’s Mike?” He says the name with a little less hate than he had managed to muster before.

“Do you really want to talk about him right now?” She levels a serious gaze at him and watches as he ducks his head in silent agreement with her. She perches on the edge of the bed, watching as he continues to pace around the room. “You came back, Wes. Why?” This, she has decided, is the most important question of all.

“How long have you been sleeping with him?” Wesley’s question comes out through gritted teeth as if he can’t even bear to think about it let alone say the words.

Isabel shakes her head, knowing she’s not going to get any of the answers that she needs to be able to move on until he’s through. “He only arrived yesterday, Wes. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.” She waits, knowing there will be more questions coming.

“What did he want?” He doesn’t look at her as he prowls around the room like a panther, but she can feel the tension radiating off of him.

Isabel sighs, knowing Wesley won’t want to hear this, but that he needs to. “He wanted to tell me that he wants to be with me.”

Wesley stops in his tracks, as if her words have frozen him to the spot. “He’s in love with you.”

It’s a statement not a question, but Isabel answers anyway, knowing she needs to. “That’s what he said.”

“And what about you?” Isabel can almost hear him holding his breath.

“What about me?” She shakes her head, angry that she’s the only answering any questions.

“Bel.” His voice is a warning, as if he’s telling her not to play around with him.

“I think it’s my turn to get some answers, don’t you?” She pushes herself up from the bed, her own agitation forcing her to move.

Wesley doesn’t respond but she doesn’t need him to. She’s more than happy to just push on.

“Why did you come back, Wes?”

“You keep asking me the same question.” He shakes his head as if it doesn’t make any sense.

“Because it’s the only answer I care about right now.” She watches him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest so he can’t see her hands shaking.

Wesley looks at her, takes her in with that familiar way he has and then he looks up at the sky, as if he’s looking for some kind of salvation there. “I came back because of you.” Wes’s words are said so softly that, at first, Isabel isn’t sure that she’s actually heard him correctly.

She looks at him, nonplussed, though her heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her chest. “Because you needed someone to patch you up? That cut over your eye looks pretty nasty.” She’s proud of herself for keeping her voice on an even keel.

“No! Jesus, Bel.” Wes closes the distance between them, close enough to touch. “I came back because I miss you.” He yells the words at her as if they were insults rather than endearments. She waits, not daring to move, not daring to say anything before she’s heard everything. “I came back because I miss the smell of you, the taste of you, the way you get a dimple in one of your cheeks when you smile, the way you pretend to be all tough when you’re really the best person I know. I came back because I feel like something’s missing when you’re not with me.” He reaches out to touch her but then seems to think better of it and lets his hand fall back to his side. “But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? None of it matters. I’m too late.” He rubs the dark stubble on his cheeks, his dark eyes bottomless.

“It’s only too late if you want it to be.” Isabel only just manages to get the words out before her voice threatens to break.

Wesley’s gaze snaps up to meet hers, a question in his eyes. “What about Mike?”

“Mike and I are friends. That’s all we ever should have been; that’s all we ever will be.” Isabel bites her lip, hoping he can’t tell how churned up all her emotions are right now.

“I thought you and he…” He trails off as Isabel shakes her head. “So you didn’t…? I mean, last night you and he didn’t…?” Wesley stops short of actually saying the words, as if even saying them causes him pain.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you, Wes.” She takes a deep breath saying the words she wishes she had said a month ago. “I don’t want to be with anyone else but you ever again.”

Wesley looks at her, his eyes wide. He couldn’t have looked any more shocked if she’d just told him that she’d won the lotto.

Isabel carries on talking, just to fill the void of silence that’s putting her more and more on edge. “I told Mike I love him like a friend, but that’s all, that it wouldn’t be fair to him for me to say anything else.” She shakes her head. “He said he understood. Before he left, he said he could already see that I can’t give him my heart because I’d already given it to someone else.”

She bites her bottom lip, watching as Wesley stares at her in that inscrutable, intense way of his. Before he has a chance to say anything she barrels on, scared that if she doesn’t say everything she has to in one go that she’ll lose her nerve and the chance will be over. “I was so angry with myself that I just let you leave.” She shakes her head, her words brining back all the feelings that were bubbling just under the surface. “When my mother died, I didn’t have a choice. The only thing I could do was watch as she slipped away from me. But with you, with you I could have stood up and fought for what I wanted. And I was scared I would never get to say that to you, that I would never get the chance to tell you how I feel.” She’s babbling now and she’s suddenly become aware of the wetness on her cheeks.

“Bel, stop.” Wes holds his hand up, still staring at her, watching her as if she is some rare creature he isn’t sure how to control.

That’s when she gets an awful feeling. Perhaps she had read this all wrong. Perhaps she has said too much, exposed her feelings to someone who isn’t as sure of his own. She takes a step backwards, as if hedging towards the door, needing to be somewhere away from here, away from him where she could lick her wounds and pretend everything was okay.

“I’m sorry, I thought…” She trails off, turning towards the door, ready to run out of that room as fast as she possibly could.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Wesley’s hand on her shoulder makes her stop.

Instantly she feels the warmth of his hand against her bare skin and her body responds to him immediately. It’s the first time he’s touched her since he walked out and the time apart hasn’t done anything to dampen the desire she feels for him. If anything, it’s made it even more potent.

“Leaving. You said I should stop so…” She shrugs, not knowing what else to say, only knowing she feels like a prize idiot.

“I told you to stop because you were saying all the things that should have come from me.” He reaches his hands up, framing both sides of his face. He wipes her tears away with his thumbs and continues to caress her cheeks.

“But -” She starts to interrupt but he stops her mouth with his finger.

“Let me say this. It’s about time I did. I should have told you so much earlier. I should have told you the first time I saw you because that’s when I knew.” He leans his head closer to hers so their lips are almost touching. “I’m the one who should have fought for what I wanted. I thought I was doing the right thing, leaving you behind. I thought I was doing the safe thing but really I was just being a coward.” He shakes his head but doesn’t let Isabel say that particular word is not one that she would ever use to describe him. “The idea of anything happening to you scared me so much I couldn’t cope. I knew I would never be able to live with the guilt. But what I hadn’t realized was I would never be able to live without you either.” Gently, he caresses her face and angles her head up so that she looks into his eyes. “I love you, Bel. My beautiful Isabel.”

He closes the distance between them and the moment his lips touch hers, Isabel feels fireworks explode behind her eyes. It’s the sweetest kiss she’s ever had and she feels it all the way into her core. It feels like belonging, like coming home.

All rational thought flies out of her head. She has no need for it right now; all she needs is Wesley and his mouth on hers, his hands on her body.

“I want you.” He whispers the words against her lips when they both take a breath.

“So take me.” She falls into him, inviting, willing, lifting her hands so he can pull her cami top over her head. Instantly his hands are on her breasts, stroking her hard nipples, making her moan against his mouth. He ducks his head down and kisses her left breast and then her right, taking his time to pay each one equal attention. He nuzzles her, his tongue flicking out and drawing lazy circles around her nipples, a pattern that she feels like he’s searing into her skin.

Her pussy aches for him and she knows she’s never wanted any man as much as she wants Wesley in this moment. Her hands go to his waist, pushing up his shirt, wanting to feel his warm skin against hers. It’s more than a desire; it’s a desperate need. She feels like she might explode if she doesn’t get to have it.

He discards his t-shirt by his side, bending down again to take her nipples into his mouth. Her back arches, as she thrusts her chest towards him, inviting him to taste her harder, deeper. He pulls on her right nipple, using his teeth to graze her, giving her exactly the right balance of pain and pleasure. It’s more than she thinks she can handle.

Wesley grinds his erection against her hip, making no secret of exactly how much he wants her. Desperately, Isabel struggles with the buttons of his jeans, grabbing at them, needing to feel his desire for her, needing to feel his hard heaviness in her hand. Wesley lets his pants fall to the ground and Isabel is inordinately pleased when she realizes there are no boxer shorts to remove.

She bites her lip, looking down as she strokes his hardness, her pussy aching with desire. Wesley follows her gaze, grinning at her wickedly and she knows he has no plans for this to be quick. He’s going to draw out her pleasure deliciously. His hands go to her hips, pushing down her shorts and, without a pause, his hand is there, in-between her thighs, where the heat feels like it’s going to burn her up from the inside out.

His clever fingers dip into her wetness and she cries out as he starts to stroke her, first softly, patiently but quickly becoming insistent, touching her in exactly the way she needs. He finds her clit, his thumb alternately tracing circles around it and rubbing it hard. He keeps his thumb on her clit and enters her with one finger and then two, pushing her open, invading her. It’s too much, the pleasure overtakes her and her hips buck with the force of her orgasm, once, twice, three times. She cries out and has to hold on to his shoulders, feeling like her legs are in danger of giving out on her.

Her legs are useless and Wesley picks her up, taking her to the bed and laying her out underneath him. His eyes devour her, taking every inch of her in as if he’s memorizing everything about her. “My beautiful Bel.” He shakes his head as if he doesn’t quite believe he’s here with her.