In fact, now was her new favorite thing. This morning she’d melted down onstage and had a flashback, wrestled with an emotional vampire that had sucked every ounce of good feeling out of her. She’d planned to spend the rest of the day burying herself in busywork to block all of it out, to go back to that place where she could hide. But somehow this man had thwarted her plan and had her laughing and turned on only a few hours later.
Everything inside her felt buoyed. As if this morning had tied bricks to her feet and dropped her in the ocean, and Wes had somehow cut the chains loose and not only thrown her a life vest, but plunked her on a speedboat and put the wind in her hair.
She felt…light.
She’d forgotten how that felt.
He’d called her a sorceress, but he was looking pretty damn magical himself. She knew she needed to be careful about having any of those kinds of feelings. She knew that trap. This was how people ended up in her office. They trusted these moments as something more meaningful than they actually were. This was just fun. Attraction and infatuation. Novelty. She couldn’t overthink it and mistake it for anything more than that.
So she was turning that analytical switch in her brain off for a little while. She would enjoy this man, this moment, and the fluttery feeling coursing through her. This was what Kincaid had been talking about. Find a guy you like. Be a little wild. Don’t make it a big thing. Enjoy the ride.
She’d never done that before with a guy—or in any part of her life, really. Even in her previous experiences with guys, she had stayed grounded and practical. But this thing with Wes could never be mistaken for practical. He was risk wrapped in rebellion and laced with temptation. There was an intensity to her attraction to him that felt dangerous.
God. She had a crush.
She hadn’t had one since Finn, which should probably worry her. But there was no way she was walking away from Wes yet.
This feeling was too good to let go of. Wes was her new drug and, goddammit, she had earned a bender.
“You’ve got your thinking face on.” Wes said as he balanced her and unlocked his door. “What’s on that mind of yours, lawyer girl?”
A slow smile touched her lips. “Just you. Lots and lots of you.”
“Good. I’ve always liked being the center of attention.”
She laughed. And when he set her down in his bathroom, turned on the shower, and kissed down her neck, her answer was the God’s honest truth. This man didn’t leave room in her mind for anything else.
That was all she could think about right now.
Not the brunch. Not the future. Not anything at all.
Just Wes.
chapter
/> EIGHTEEN
Wes was half convinced he’d passed out from heat exhaustion and was really lying out in the parking lot having some sort of fever dream. Because he couldn’t possibly be in his bathroom kissing down Rebecca’s throat, cupping her ass, and about to strip her naked.
They’d agreed not to rush. They’d agreed to be smart. To continue getting to know each other. He wasn’t going to be old Wes who did everything on a whim without considering the fallout. But then the lawyer who had once dressed him down with one shrewd, derisive look in court had given him the sexiest, most come-hither gaze he’d ever encountered. I want you. And it hadn’t been put on. No guile at all.
It had annihilated any good sense he had.
That was one of the things that he couldn’t get enough of with Rebecca. She didn’t play games like the other women he’d been with. Confident in the courtroom and confident in her decisions. Outside, when she’d put her hands on him, rubbed the lotion into his skin, he’d been in physical pain with the need that had coursed through him. His mind couldn’t help imagining her hands sliding lower, dipping into his shorts, taking his cock in her slick hand. His own hands roaming over her body and thumbing the hard points of her nipples beneath that borrowed T-shirt. But he’d forced himself to keep it in check, to not act like some hard-up guy who couldn’t control himself.
But when he’d given her a chance to back away, she’d made the move instead. Feeling her lips on his chest had been more erotic than he could’ve imagined such a simple move being. What it represented had flipped every one of his switches.
She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to tell him that. No gray areas. No coy games.
Bold and honest.
She wanted to feel good. To have fun.
He wasn’t going to let her down.
He lifted his head and pulled the elastic band from her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. The humidity outside had made it curl. He wrapped a lock around his finger and smiled. “You have curls.”
She smirked. “Don’t tell anyone my secret. I straighten it every morning. I had enough Little Orphan Annie references in kindergarten to last me a lifetime.”