Every Kiss(95)
Oh. My. God. I can’t breathe. I can’t freaking breathe. He’s in love with me? Well, that doesn’t mean he actually loves me. There’s a difference right? In love with me. Wait. Nope. No matter how I spin it, I can’t see how I’d ever misinterpret the meaning. Wesley Baxter is in love with me. Damn it. I’m going to pass out if I don’t breathe soon.
“Uh, Cal?”
I pull out of my temporary stupor and take a shaky breath. “Yeah?”
“Seriously?” He jerks his hands from mine and fists one in the top of his hair. “From the moment I met you, you’ve had the biggest mouth of anyone I’ve ever known, and you choose now to lose your tongue? I swear you’ve got to be the most infuriating woman—”
I fling myself at him carelessly, wrapping my arms around his neck and interrupting his rant. “Took you long enough to admit it.”
His eyes narrow playfully as a smug grin plays on his lips. “But deep down, I’ve known it for a long time. Do you remember when we were at the banquet, and my mom said something about embers?”
I think back to that night . . . and what happened afterward. “Yeah, you said there were more than a few, whatever that meant.”
“My mom has always been full of quirky little sayings, but there are a certain few that have always stuck with me.” He pauses to brush a strand of hair from my brow. “She’s says that love is a fire, and you can never tell if it’s going to warm your heart or burn down your house. She could tell immediately that you sparked something. And I can honestly say, sweetheart, that you started a wildfire, completely obliterating everything I have inside of me. There’s nothing left, just a clean slate.”
“That’s, by far, the most meaningful thing anyone has ever said to me. It makes me feel good to know that I’ve been able to make that kind of difference in you.” This is way too much to absorb. I never thought we’d actually get to this point. “Even if you’ve fought me at every turn, you’re worth it to me.”
His eyes crinkle when his mouth turns up into a full-fledged, beaming grin, making my stomach flutter, my limbs go numb, and my head spin. “That’s all I’ve ever needed, Callie. I just couldn’t see through all of my own shit to see it.” His hands graze up my ribs, and out of nowhere, a languid heat rolls over my body and settles low in my belly. A feeling that I want more of. A feeling that I don’t have to fight anymore.
I lean in until I’m right up to his ear. “I love you, Wes,” I whisper, skimming my lips right along the outside edge and peeking my tongue out just enough to graze his soft lobe. I hear the sharp intake of breath just as his fingers grasp my hips.
His mouth finds the tender skin just at the hollow of my collarbone, and he trails blazing kisses up my neck until he reaches the turn of my jaw. He pulls back ever-so-slightly, just enough for his smoldering aquamarine gaze to lock onto my eyes. “I love you, Callie.”
Without any further hesitation, he leans in, his mouth taking my bottom lip with a gentle tug. My fingers knead into the warm ridges of muscle along his spine, and I press my body closer to his, leaving only the thin fabric of our shirts to keep us apart. And that’s much too far. I’ve missed him. Not just him, but this deeper level of connection that I feel every time we’re close like this. Every single time, I crave him just a little more.
There are so many reasons that I’m telling myself that I should hold back, though. That I shouldn’t give into his tender touch. His intoxicating kisses. With every rise that our relationship has had, there’s also been a careening fall into a fiery pit of hell. Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, he turns back into Mr. Hyde.
But all of those reasons vaporize into obscurity when his lips brush across mine, so whisper soft that it’s almost like they aren’t there at all, leaving only one thought in my feeble mind—I want more. I crumple a handful of his t-shirt in my fist, jerk him closer, and hang onto him with everything I have. Screw the light and sweet crap. I crush my mouth to his, eliciting a muffled groan from deep in his chest, and one of his hands immediately slides down to grip the back of one thigh, nearly picking me up to straddle his lap without his mouth ever leaving mine. As soon as I settle over him, his fingertips bite into the tender flesh just under the waistband of my shorts as he roughly rolls my hips over him, grinding his obvious arousal against me.
It’s at this moment that I realize I’m too far gone. I know that there’s no way in hell I’m turning back now. Not that he’d give me any choice in the matter.