SWNOVELS Never His Girl: Chapter 16
BLUE
All I can think about is the conversation Jules and I just had a few nights ago. The one where she voiced the possibility of Parker being to blame. But this was a theory I thought to be ridiculous even when she mentioned it.
“You’re lying.”
West doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he just sits there, still holding his face while I continue.
“If Parker’s to blame, no way you wouldn’t have turned her in. I know for a fact Dr. Pryor’s trying to take you down for the shit you pulled. If that happens, you can kiss whatever plans you have goodbye. Which is why I know you would’ve already shifted the blame to Parker if you could.”
Thinking about it, I’m even willing to bet the fallout from this will be so bad that not even his father could fix it for him.
“This is just another lie,” I accuse. “More of you being you.”
He doesn’t stand, but he may as well with how he commands the room the next instant. With one hard stare, a breath stills in my throat.
“Think what you want, but deep down you feel it,” he accuses right back, making it impossible to turn away. “I want you, in a way that has nothing to do with wanting to fuck you.”
The words are harsh, nowhere near soft or sweet, making him sound more like his usual self. They’re steeped in frustration and anger. I’m breathless now, panting while trapped in his gaze.
“There’s nothing you can tell yourself that’ll convince you this isn’t real,” he continues in that same hard, unapologetic tone. “You feel it. In your bones. Which is why you know I care nothing about Parker fucking Holiday,” he snaps.
“Then why protect her? Why not give her up already?” I hear my own voice wavering and there’s no way he doesn’t hear it, too.
“Because she knows things!” he practically growls. “Things that could ruin my life, someone else’s. And despite what you think, I’m not some selfish dick who can’t see past himself. Yes, I stand to lose a lot if Parker opens her damn trap, but it’s not just about me.”
I hate that I’m not immediately shutting down this conversation. Hate that I’m still willing to listen.
“What does she know?” I dare to ask, but his hardening expression tells me that’s a wall he’s not prepared to let come down just yet.
“Believe me, if it were just my secret to confess, I’d tell you in a heartbeat, Southside. But it’s not that simple.”
His eyes lock with mine and I’m so, so torn. Half of me wants to believe him, but the other half knows all too well what happened the last time I trusted the devil.
“I… I need time to think. Time to—”
“You can choose whether you believe what I’ve told you about the video,” he says, cutting into my thoughts. “You can even choose whether you believe what I said about Parker. But you don’t get to doubt that I feel something for you. Not even for a second.”
He speaks those words with such authority. There’s no refuting this blatant refusal to let me question that portion of his confession.
“West, we—”
“What do I have to do?”
His deep voice is calm and certain, penetrating the space between us before moving over my skin like lightning through the clouds after a passing storm. But calm and certain are the exact opposites of my current mood, because West has me feeling things I’m not allowed to feel for him.
Not before I know his story checks out.
Not until I know I had him all wrong just one week ago.
I’ve been so furious with him, so done with him. Then, here he comes, saying I’ve been mistaken.
He stands, and the first step he takes toward me makes it hard to breathe again.
“I’m an asshole. No one knows that better than you,” he admits, causing my gaze to flutter back toward his. “But like it or not, Southside, I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m silent, unsure what I’m supposed to say to that.
If I didn’t already know he was persistent as hell, I would be sure of it now. There’s this look in his eyes that says as much. It’s a look of instability, like he’s one second from snapping and losing his shit if I don’t believe him soon. A look that screams he’s willing to go to some pretty drastic lengths to convince me, but… what if I let him inside my head and it blows up in my face again?
Yes, everything he’s saying sounds good, but I’ve been burned by him before.
He’s closer now and, without permission, he gently takes my waist. Instead of stopping him, I soak in that look he casts down on me, letting his green stare lower from my eyes, to my mouth, and finally to my breasts.
He’s so intense. The only thing that keeps me from burning up in his atmosphere is the slow breath I draw into my lungs. Being honest, I feel weak for him, but the hurt is still pinned to my flesh like a badge. One I’ll wear for however long it takes the wound to heal.
“Say it,” he groans, allowing the rawness in his voice to be heard. “Say you’re ready to let me show you it’s real.”
My head spins and, at first, I’m unsure what that means. A thousand different scenarios run through me, but none of those ended like this—with my feet being lifted off the ground. With West gripping my ass as he draws my body flush against his.
On instinct, my legs encircle his waist, and there’s no barrier between us where his once loosely tied robe has fallen open. Without letting me go, he slips it off one arm at a time, until he’s completely naked, and I feel him in ways I’ve tried to forget.
I hate that sadness is the prevailing thought in my head, but it is. Even more than I want him, I’m grieving the idea of letting this happen again.
What’s wrong with me?
Why can’t I just get him out of my damn system?
While I’m certain he doesn’t deserve me, there’s a piece of me that craves him and even I don’t understand it.
I’m addicted.
There’s no other explanation for what I fear I’m about to allow. No other reason I’d let a lavish hotel room, a few dozen roses, and a seemingly heartfelt speech get under my skin.
Not after what he did.
His lips are at least as hot and soft as I remember. They move against my mouth, but I don’t kiss him back. Not like I want to, anyway. I’m too angry I’m kissing him at all. Too angry my fingers are tangled in his hair. Too angry that I’m already wet for this ruthless bastard.
The hatred inside me bleeds from my pores and I’m only certain he feels it when he speaks again.
“I swear to you, Southside. I’m trying to fix it.”
This is the promise spoken against my ear. It’s whispered just before I feel his tongue against my neck, and then there’s the dizzying sensation of feverish sucking. I’m certain he’s leaving his mark, and I’m also sure that’s intentional.
He’ll fix it. That vow is one that should go in one ear and out the other, but instead, I want him to prove me wrong, want him to show me he means it.
He places me on the sheet and my robe’s already fallen off both shoulders. I slip out of it completely and there’s enough heat and tension in this room to suffocate. And as for what I’m feeling, I’m doused with equal parts hatred and need.
Both aimed straight at West, and he takes it all.
Staring down my body, my eyes land on him, where he stands naked at the foot of the bed. Every breath I take is ragged, labored. His chest moves rapidly, and I bite my lip until it aches, literally feeling his gaze as it lowers to my stomach. Half a second later, his hand lands there, moving over the piercing in my navel, then between my legs. Air rushes into my mouth, hissing through my teeth.
Why are you here?
Why are you doing this?
Why can’t you stay away and let me hate you in peace?
The mattress shifts when he climbs on top of me, kissing me so slow and deep my eyes roll back in my head. Both heels dig into the backs of his thighs, encouraging him to enter me, and I’m so far gone I don’t even consider protection. I’m never that impatient. But when West doesn’t budge, I assume this is the reason he’s hesitant.
Those powerful, inked arms of his keep him hovering above me, as our mouths move in perfect sync. As his tongue does a series of skilled pirouettes over mine that have my need for him surging even more.
I want to push again, want to draw him in with my heels like I attempted before, but I’m a bit more sensible this time.
“Condom,” I murmur against his mouth.
He’s ready, rock-hard against me, yet he shows no sign of urgency, no sign he intends to let me have my way.
“Don’t need one,” he says, taking his lips away.
I’m confused as hell where he thinks this is going without protection, but I stop questioning it so much when his mouth moves to my neck, and then to my chest. He pauses, slowly teasing one nipple with the tip of his tongue, before drawing it into his mouth. Then, there’s a playful nip to my belly ring when he journeys there next, tugging the tiny, metal rod with his teeth. The sensation has my back arching toward him, and I arch again when the soft, wet heat of his lips travels to the base of my stomach.
A shallow gasp leaves my mouth when he dares to wander just a little lower, finally reaching his intended destination. It’s in that very second that electricity sparks from someplace deep within me. So powerfully I nearly clamp West’s jaw with my thighs. I likely would have if it weren’t for him gently holding them open, keeping me relatively still while exploring me with his tongue.
My eyes roll back again, wanting to close, but I keep them open, watching obsessively in the mirrored ceiling as he makes his point. He wants me to grasp the meaning of tonight’s lesson, that he can show me how he feels better than he can tell me.
I swear my entire body lifts off the bed when I arch toward him, feeling like I’ve completely lost touch with reality, risen to some alternate plane of existence. My heart’s never raced faster than it’s racing right now, and I’m out of my head, hearing my thoughts become words as they spill from within me. But the jumble of words leaves my mouth as one whispered expression:
“Shit…”
The response is enough to make West remove both hands from my thighs to slip them beneath my ass. Now, it’s impossible to claw my way up the sheet to escape when the feeling becomes too intense. Instead, I’m forced to endure the full-body convulsions that follow as I explode with pleasure, so raw I swear I’m on the brink of blacking out.
“West!”
I reach down, tangling my fingers in his hair, struggling for even an ounce of air. There is none, and I drown in this powerful sensation he’s brought on so suddenly, spreading from my core, and then overtaking me completely.
All at once, I shift from being so tightly wound my muscles ache, to fatigue hitting me hard and fast when it ends. Aftershocks have me quivering all over and I can’t move. Not even when a soft kiss placed on my inner thigh sends butterflies fluttering straight to the pit of my stomach. He stands after that and I’m transfixed on his perfect reflection from above, watching as he makes his way onto the bed. A second later, I feel his heat against my torso, his hardness against my hip.
He has staked his claim, more than proven his point.
“Should I leave?” he rasps, that deep tone of his sparking another of those aftershocks.
I have an answer, but pride won’t let me give it. So, instead, I simply reach for the remote on the bedside table that controls the candles. I turn them off completely, plunging us into darkness, answering his question by drawing the blanket over us both.
When I turn into his chest, his arms slip around me like this is how it’s always been, how it always will be.
I fully intend to scold myself for giving in to him so epically, but sleep overtakes me before I even get the chance.
I’ll save whatever lecture I have for myself for tomorrow. But for tonight, I’ll just enjoy this moment for what it is. If regret intends to bring me down from this feeling, that bitch will have to work for it.
@QweenPandora: Tis Game Day Eve!
Rest up guys! No pressure, but the whole city’s depending on you to pull out a win in the semifinal’s matchup 🙂 Clear your heads and get a good night’s rest, because tomorrow’s sure to be intense.
Let’s send them all the good vibes we can. GO Panthers!
Later, Peeps.
—P