Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,71

had been.

“Feeling’s mutual?” I asked, confused.

“No,” Hayden said, wrinkling his nose. “No. Melting.”

32

Hayden

I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d never have to miss the taste of Wes’s mouth again as I kissed him in the doorway of the guesthouse, the two of us too caught up in each other to make the extra two steps inside.

“Your dad didn’t seem surprised,” Wes said as I pushed his t-shirt up and out of the way, sighing happily at the familiar warm skin under my fingers, wanting him naked as soon as possible.

“No,” I gasped, surging in for another kiss, our noses bumping together in my eagerness. “No, he already knew,” I mumbled against Wes’s lips.

“He what?” Wes asked, pulling away, blinking up at me with glazed, hazy eyes.

“He knew,” I said, panting to catch my breath. “About the two of us. Saw you climbing out my window.”

Wes blinked at me. “Which time?” he asked.

“What?”

“Which time,” Wes repeated. “I climbed out of your window twice.”

“I didn’t ask,” I said, confused and wondering when we were getting back to the kissing and the tearing off each other’s clothes part. “Does it matter?”

“If I ran across the lawn in bare feet after you asked him to get me for breakfast for nothing, it definitely matters,” he said. “You’re gonna owe me so many sexual favors I might as well just burn your clothes and tie you to the bed.”

I laughed, pressing close for another kiss, too happy to be with him to care about empty—if slightly kinky—threats.

“I’m serious,” Wes murmured against my lips, fingers working to unbutton my pants.

“You’d burn the jeans?” I asked, grinding against him, happy tingles cascading down the back of my neck at feeling him already hard for me.

“No,” Wes said. “I’d make you wear the jeans while you paid your debt.”

I snorted. “You want me to fuck you in jeans I’ve had since college?” I asked.

Wes blinked at me, pink tongue darting out to wet kiss-swollen lips. “Yes,” he said, looking as surprised by that answer as I was.

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Apparently.” He shrugged. “I really like the jeans?”

“I could get them,” I offered. “But they’re in my suitcase, in your truck.”

Wes glanced over at the spot he always parked his truck, then looked back at me, then over at the spot.

“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it!” I said, stunned. “I’m right here, we haven’t had sex in two weeks—phone sex doesn’t count—and you’re thinking about letting me run to my suitcase so I can change into those jeans.”

“I was gonna say no!” Wes defended. “Just… really like the jeans.”

I laughed, dragging him into the guesthouse and slamming the door closed behind us.

Desperate, frantic, needy stripping off settled down to slow indulgent kisses by the time we were both spread out on the bed naked, re-learning each other’s bodies. Fingers and lips searched for remembered sensitive places, laughter and a creaking mattress filled the air, a summer storm rolled through outside and pit-patted on the window as the light started to fail.

Sex with Wes was always good, but this time, it was a little magical.

“Love the way you feel,” Wes gasped between kisses as I eased myself inside him, careful, gentle, more determined than ever to make this good for him.

“Love the way you feel,” I said, nudging his nose with my own, tilting my head for another kiss, sighing with him as my hips rocked, slow and steady like the roll of thunder outside.

Wes giggled as I nuzzled his throat, bursting into laughter at the scrape of teeth, and I loved that sound. I wanted to hear it all the time, as often as I could.

There was no need to rush this time, even as we rolled over to switch positions, getting comfortable with each other, pausing to kiss and touch before Wes pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me, his new favorite thing to do.

“You look good like that,” I murmured, running a hand up his thigh, feeling smooth skin and strong muscles move under my palm.

“I always look good,” Wes said, leaning down to kiss me again, hand fisted in the pillow beside my head.

“You do,” I said. “You’ll have to tell me your secret.”

Wes laughed, nuzzling my cheek and letting me hear every happy little cut-off gasp he made as he rode my cock, shameless as ever.

I loved the shamelessness, especially when I got to share it with him.

“Keep forgetting how big you are,” Wes said, punctuating the sentence with