One Last Hold (17 page)

Wondering made things worse, made him want to lift up her skirt, wrap his hands around her firm ass, and find out. That thought lingered on his mind when she emerged from the bathroom.

“Wesley?” She sashayed over to him and stopped within an arm’s length, her eyes level with his torso. When he didn’t reply, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Are you okay?”

He saw her, every inch of her, even the parts covered. And if he hadn’t been able to see her, her scent gave her away. He breathed in and closed his eyes a mere second.

Summoning his willpower, he turned away from her and headed for the door. “I gotta get out of here.”

*

The tap-tap of the keyboard as Caitlyn typed mimicked the sound of her heartbeat. Chattering, stopping to think then pounding away again. When a thunderous knock crashed at her door, she jumped. She’d been deep in concentration, focusing on the words she typed.

After Wesley left, she moped around for at least an hour and then finally fired up her laptop. Her written words soothed her, and it wasn’t even the assignment she was supposed to be working on. Journaling calmed her

Saving her work, Caitlyn closed the laptop and clumped to the door. Her body, still on edge after being startled so abruptly, weakened when she spotted Wesley.

Caitlyn couldn’t handle anymore. She just couldn’t keep doing this.

She opened the door and was overtaken with a stunning bouquet of flowers.

“What’s this?” She placed a hand on her hip and frowned. The flowers were beautiful, but he’d left her in the middle of an interview. She resented that he thought flowers would fix everything.

“I noticed when I was here earlier your room is dreary. Thought you might appreciate a splash of color.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to think, but she had to remember this was not a game. It wasn’t a relationship. It wasn’t anything.

It was her job.

And his job.

Nothing else.

She accepted the spray, stepped aside for him to enter, and set the flowers on the middle of the drab table. He was right. The bouquet, full of purple and orange and yellow, did brighten the room. “Nice vase. Thank you, I do appreciate it.”

An awkward silence followed as they faced each other. She wasn’t sure what to do, what he expected her to do, or if he was about to leave.

Wesley ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry for being a little shit.”

Caitlyn was taken aback by his apology. “Okay.” She pressed on the knot forming in her neck, compliments of stress and the long hours she spent hunched over as she wrote.

“I hate being interviewed and asked personal questions. I hate feeling like I’m being put in a spotlight. And I hate that with you it’s different, because you know so much about me. Things that hurt.”

He stepped forward and replaced the hand on her neck with his. She palmed his face, tracing the stubble on his jaw, unmindful of the pain she would suffer when this was all over. She’d gladly face them for one night of passion in his arms. She wouldn’t let him go without a fight.

“Who am I kidding?” Wesley murmured, his low rasp igniting fire across her skin. He swept a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I ran because I want you. I fucking want you bad. And I knew that if I didn’t leave, I was not going to be able to stop.”

Her lids fluttered, mouth parting, as he continued to stroke her face. “Then why did you come back?”

“Because I fucking want you bad,” he growled before his mouth came down on hers.

He offered no softness in his kiss. This was all give and take, hungry and gratifying. They kissed as if it was their first kiss, their last kiss. His hands ran down the length of her, swooping under her rear to pull her closer, to crush her pelvis with his. The bulge in his jeans intensified her liquid ache.

She gripped his shoulders, reveling in the curve of muscle, the swell of his bicep. He groaned inside her mouth, his tongue reaching deep. They stopped kissing long enough for her to rip his shirt over his head then their mouths joined again as if that’s where they belonged—locked in synchronous time.

Her hands explored the grooves of his chest, arms, torso, neckline. She could touch him forever and never grow tired. His hands, course and raw and rugged, slid under her shirt to touch her breasts, then down to lift her. She wrapped her legs around him the few steps to the bed and he lowered her, gently. Heat and cold consumed her as she watched him remove his shoes, his jeans.

Eyes locked with hers, his fingers skated under her skirt, dipped inside her thighs, through her lacy thong to where she burned. He pushed up her skirt, his fingers grazing her inner thighs without touching where she really needed his touch. She was wet. God she was so wet and ready for him.

He remained just within her reach and took time exploring her body. Kissed her neck then stripped her of her shirt and bra to suckle each breast. Made his way down her body to remove her skirt and panties, then opened her legs and lowered his face into her.

She cried out at the initial contact. The way his warm tongue darted in and out, in and out, sweeping over her skin, licking her heat. He instinctively knew where to touch, where to taste to make her quiver for more. She arched back, gripped his hair, and cried out when she finally exploded.

He rolled away and grabbed a condom from his wallet, tore it from the package. His body shook as he rolled it over his length.

“Are you sure…” he asked, but she grasped his shoulders and brought him to her.

“Yes,” she cried, arching to meet him.

He thrust into her, and she spread her legs for him to go deeper. He filled her. Oh, how he filled her.

“God yes,” she cried again.

Their bodies moved together, their senses heightened, hands exploring, ears attentive to every moan.

Nothing in her life had ever felt more right. Wesley was the person she should be with, the part of her missing for so long. They moved together, in a natural rhythm, until they came in a maelstrom of emotion too deep for anything but a declaration of ecstasy.

*

Wesley couldn’t help but wonder what Caitlyn’s reaction would be after that breathtaking event. He’d never experienced anything quite like it. Since Caitlyn, other women left him longing for something more…emotional. He couldn’t explain it, hated the reality of it, but only Caitlyn could complete him.

In the past, he’d always been ready to leave immediately after sex. With Caitlyn, forever etched his heart.

In the past, he’d attributed it to being a horny teenager. Now, he knew better.

His body, satisfied, yet, he wanted more of her.

Taking her had been his exact intention when he’d come back to the hotel. He’d even stopped at the store to purchase condoms.

They couldn’t keep pushing each other away like this. The stress, the tension, the longing for soul-binding sex would break them. Hopefully, she wouldn’t blame him for taking advantage of her. Would she be upset? Full of regret?

His fears were set aside when the brush of her fingers feathered down his side. A light tickle played on his skin. Wesley pushed himself up on his palms and studied her. He clutched her hand and held it against the bed.

“Hey,” he said. “That tickles.”

She inched her free hand around to his other side and tickled him there, remembering just where to touch to irritate him. Wesley seized her other hand and pinned her beneath him.

“I said,” he growled, but with a smile on his face, “that tickles.”

He gripped both her hands in one of his and held them above her head. He used his free hand to tickle her along her sides and across her stomach. She screamed, laughed, and thrashed around.

His body stirred.
Damn this woman
. His energy had just been exhausted, but he was ready again.

He freed her hands and moved aside, so they were lying on their sides facing each other. She stroked her fingers across his chest. “Your body is absolutely gorgeous.” She rested her head in her free hand and traced his stomach with her eyes and then her hands.

He let out a shuddering breath. “So is yours. You. Everything about you is absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.”

“And that’s not a bad six pack you’ve got going there,” she said and playfully smacked his stomach.

“So it’s just my body you like, then?” he teased.

“God, yes!” She grinned, gleaming as she touched his face, his cheeks, and the corners of his eyes. “Your eyes are pretty darn spectacular. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any quite like them.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They’re so green and intense. You look at someone and you make them think they are the only ones on the planet with you. I mean, they’re so attentive, or something. They’re a beautiful color, but the intensity coming out of them is amazing.”

“No,” he said. “They’re intense because
you
are intense, and you have my undivided attention when you’re in the room.”

She laughed and playfully swatted him. He seized her hand and pulled her over, rolling so that she straddled him.

“You ready?” he asked.

She wiggled against him. “So soon?”

“Hope we have enough condoms.”

*

“What am I going to do?” Wesley poked his head out of the shower and held up one of Caitlyn’s old razors. “I don’t have a razor. I don’t have a toothbrush.”

Caitlyn, clad in a long satin robe, snatched the razor he held and rummaged through her suitcase until she found a new blade. “You can use my razor. I have new blades.”

He touched the fuzz on his face. “A
woman’s
razor?” he exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with that? It’s a new blade.” She changed the blade and he turned off the shower. He stepped out, dried himself, and wrapped the towel around his waist.

Caitlyn gave the razor back to him. “You going to let me borrow your toothbrush, too?” he teased.

“You could always opt not to shave.” Caitlyn swept her finger over his face and down his chin. “I think your stubble is pretty damn sexy.”

She grinned, snatched the towel from around his waist and stepped back, popping him with it. Anticipating her movement, he shifted his foot and grabbed her arm, bringing her against his very naked body. He touched her, trailing his hands under her robe and across her warm body.

She stepped back. “You’re going to be late.”

Today would be a busy day, starting with a meeting he had with his crew members, practice sessions he had to run through before tomorrow’s race, and an hour long gathering with his fans. “Unless you really do want to borrow my toothbrush, you’ll need to get back to your RV,” she said.

“Yeah, I’ll be late but I have a great excuse.” He wrenched her even closer and moved his hips against her. “I have the pleasure of a beautiful woman’s company. Surely they’ll understand.”

“I don’t want to get you into trouble,” she said.

“Darling, I’m already in trouble.”

In trouble?

Well, it didn’t appear that way to Caitlyn. Not after two weeks and only talking to him a few times since.

Caitlyn, still clad in her workout gear with a matching featherweight jacket, sat her groceries on the counter. Her gaze ping-ponged between the bottle of wine she’d bought at the grocery store and herbal tea. The tea would be the better choice.

But today was cause for celebration, even if she did have to celebrate alone. The story on Wesley had published and she’d gotten plenty of other calls from the media, though she’d ignored them all. She hadn’t even seen the article yet or checked social media.

Screw it. She’d drink alone. Rayma was with Keegan and Wesley obviously wasn’t going to return her call. She opened the bottle and poured, savoring the taste of tobacco and chocolate.

Tension knotted her neck, and she moved it from side to side. Blake had enjoyed her story but already had her running off to new assignments. Her worst fear that she’d never see Wesley again was coming true. He had his busy career, and she’d go back to hers.

That had been the original plan. But the original plan included purging him from her system. Getting over him and moving on her with life. Not having sex with him and certainly not falling in love with him all over again.

She slurped the wine and topped off the glass, deciding she’d work out harder tomorrow. Social media’s reaction to her article could wait. Everything could wait. She bent over to stretch, reaching the glass toward her toes. At least it was something.

Caitlyn begged Blake to let her continue her work with Wesley and reminded him of all the fan mail they received and continued to receive. He told her it was complete and had nothing more to write about.

When she turned in her vacation request, Blake refused and told her it was bad timing.

She couldn’t just up and leave her job, up and quit. Blake gave her the promised raise, but that wasn’t enough to cover flying to Wesley’s races on Sunday only to come back home that very night to start work again the next day. There would be no time to drive either.

And Wesley hadn’t asked her to, hadn’t offered.

She straightened and took another sip before setting the glass on the counter. Clutching the bar for balance, she extended her leg and circled one ankle, then the other.

Deep down, she knew they didn’t stand a chance. They had too much history, too many things going on in their lives, and were both married to their jobs. Wesley traveled extensively for his and hers was too demanding.

A knock sounded on her door and she jogged toward it. Might as well make the most of the exercise, right? She hoped Rayma had changed her mind and had come to spend Friday night with her. Caitlyn might even be in the mood to shower and go out.

Even better, Wesley stood on the other side of the door.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she said, going with an easy welcome instead of jumping in his arms. That would be pathetic.

Brow furrowed, Wesley pushed past her and strode to the middle of the room before turning to face her. Her pulse tripped at his stiff jaw and the look of…utter hatred on his face.

Oh God, something horrible had happened. She closed the door and braced herself against it. Had there been news about the murders?