Every Kiss(73)
Wes’ kiss isn’t gentle, but I’m not complaining. It’s frantic and all-consuming. Like those first gasps of air when you’ve been underwater way too long. Just as my fingers dig into his chest, tugging at his shirt to bring him closer, he fists his hands into the hair on each side of my head, doing the same. He sucks hard at my lips, the most perfect combination of pleasure and pain, causing a gasp to hiss from my mouth. His tongue taunts mine, teasing it until he coaxes it out just far enough for his teeth to catch it, and he sucks it deeply into his mouth just as hard.
The low moan that escapes my throat catches me by complete surprise. I never really experimented with anything bordering on the edge of rough before, but I feel it bringing out something a little darker in me, something that makes me want to bite and claw and bring Wes to his knees. There’s never been a guy to really push that boundary before with me. Sure, I’ve done my share of experimenting, and it’s been somewhat fun, but there’s never been anything that’s gotten my blood pumping quite like this. This is hot.
Wanting to turn it up a notch or two, I rise up on my knees and climb into his lap without ever breaking the kiss. Just as I wrap my legs around his waist, one of his hands skims down my spine and into the back of my panties, gripping my behind until I can feel his nails biting into the tender flesh. He grinds me against him, the rock hard ridge I feel is a clear sign of what a turn on this is for him, too. I reach down between us, eager to touch him, but just as my fingertips slip behind his waistband, he freezes. He stops kissing me. He stops moving. He just looks at me with this wounded expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
A deep sigh is forced from his lungs. “Damn it, Callie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all of this started. I swear this wasn’t my plan. This is exactly why I have to keep distance from you.”
“Just stop thinking for five minutes. Get out of your head and just feel for a change. You don’t have to constantly fight it, you know.” I hold each of his cheeks in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Why? Why can’t we have this? Why can’t you just try?”
Wes closes his eyes. “No. I can’t do this. You know that already. And clearly you and I are incapable of a platonic relationship, so I think we should stop attempting it.” He grips my thighs and leans forward, effectively laying me down onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Callie.”
He pulls back, causing my legs and arms to fall away from him, and he drags the blankets back up over me. Swinging his feet over off the side of the bed, he looks back at me. “Please understand that I’m not walking away right now because I don’t like you. I do. If I were halfway sane, I’d spend the rest of this week in bed with you and make you beg me to stop. But I can’t risk putting myself—or you—through that kind of pain that will inevitably follow when it’s over. I can walk away now, knowing that you’re perfect in every way and that you’re probably the most beautiful person, inside and out, that I’ve ever known. That’s the best and safest possible ending for both of us. Before you start hating me, before you realize I’m not good enough for you, before you can’t stand to even hear my voice. I want to end it now while you still want me around because I’m pretty sure that knowing you don’t would cut me deeper than anyone ever has.”
The pain behind his words is a true testament of the turmoil and bitterness of betrayal that has taken deep root within his soul. Knowing that he thinks he has to stop being my friend now, before I eventually start hating him, makes me want to cry. I want to hold him and tell him that I could never hate him, that he’s more than good enough for me. He’s perfect for me.
“None of that could ever happen, Wes.”
He holds up his hand and shakes his head. “Please don’t say that. I’ve heard all of that before, and words are never enough. People can lie long before they even realize the truth. You can say whatever you think you feel right now, but it won’t take long for you to realize that you were only lying to yourself. Trust me on this.” He moves to open the bedroom door but stops and looks back at me. “I can’t be your friend anymore, Callie. I can’t pretend this will work. From now on, if you’re going to be at my parents’ house for any reason, I’d appreciate it if you tell Shane to warn me, so I’m not around. And I’ll start calling before I go to Shane’s to make sure you’re not there.”
“Come on, don’t be childish about this. We don’t have to take it that far.” I can feel the heat of anger rising to the surface, but I’m suspicious that he wants to piss me off.