“You’re incredible.” He searched the cabinet, finding them in the top drawer, and eased one over himself. “For the record, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time, either.”
“You haven’t been celibate for six years, though.”
“No,” he agreed. “More like two or three.”
“Huh.” She didn’t pry, and he was grateful for that. Right now, he just wanted to be with her.
Notching himself at her entrance, he pressed in, bit by bit. She clasped hotly around him, and it was all he could do not to lose his head. When she tilted her hips, seating him deep inside, he swore and gripped the sheets to keep from going wild the way he wanted to.
She licked the column of his throat. “I knew you’d be great in bed.”
No pressure.
He drew back and thrust into her again, gliding through her silken heat. Her eyes closed, and she made a soft noise. He repeated the movement, reaching beneath her to lift her lower body and angle her perfectly. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and arched off the bed.
“You’re so perfect,” he told her. “I’ve wanted you for so damn long.”
His imagination had conjured a thousand fantasies of her, and there were so many things he wanted to try, but for now, everything felt wonderful exactly how it was. They’d have plenty of time to explore each other in the future. In the meantime, he had her skin against his, and she was better than a dream. Superior to any fantasy.
Leaving one hand beneath her, he used the other to gather both of hers and stretch them above her head, leaving her exposed to his gaze.
“Keep your hands there,” he ordered, then released them and dropped his hand between their bodies, pressing on her clit. She hummed encouragement, and his fingers trembled in response. She followed his instructions for all of twenty seconds before gripping onto him and showing him how she liked to be touched. He learned quickly, listening to the cadence of her breaths and her mewls of pleasure to determine what she liked best.
“More, Michael,” she murmured. “Give me more.”
So he did, demonstrating with his hands, body, and mouth all the ways he adored her. And finally, when she began to shake and whisper his name, he powered into her again and again, until he crashed over a peak of release, blackness flickering behind his eyes.
His heart was full of Bex Cane.
In the afterglow of sex,Bex and Michael talked. She rested her head on his chest, loving the way his arm curved around her and tugged her closer as he explained what had happened. Now that the initial shock had dissipated, she could think more clearly. While she was still annoyed Michael had talked to Wesley without telling her, she could understand why he’d done it. Like it or not, he was a moral guy with a weak spot where his brother was concerned. She’d always known that, but she’d asked him to maintain a deception that wasn’t in his nature, and it had backfired.
“I’m sorry,” he said, for about the fourth time, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She snuggled closer. “I’m not going to say it’s okay, but I get it.”
He smoothed a hand down her back, and more than anything, she wanted to go for round two and pretend the day hadn’t gone ass-up. Unfortunately, they couldn’t. She needed to talk to Wesley and find out why he’d come. At the thought, bees swarmed in her belly. She’d be quite happy never seeing her ex again, but she’d kissed goodbye to that possibility when she went out with Michael, and deep down, she’d known that, even if she hadn’t consciously accepted it.
“We need to talk to Wes,” she said.
He stiffened, but when she didn’t say anything more, he relaxed. “That would probably be best.”
She tilted her face up to look into his eyes and tried to draw strength from the solidness of his body and the certainty in his expression. “I’m putting my faith in you.”
He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I won’t let you down.”
“Thank you.” She sat upright. “Let’s go.”
They both dressed, and Bex dragged a comb through her hair so it didn’t look like she’d just had sex. Then she swiped lipstick on—red, because that was a power color, and she needed all the emotional fortification she could get—and they went to Michael’s car. Neither of them spoke as they drove to his place. When they parked, she didn’t need to ask who the nice ride belonged to. Wesley always traveled in style, as befitted a future prime minister.
“How are you feeling?” Michael asked as they walked up the path, side by side.
She snagged his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “A bit sick, honestly.”
“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
As they reached the front door, it swung inward, and she caught sight of her ex in person for the first time in six years. Wesley had a similar build to Michael, but more streamlined. They were the same height, and had the same piercing blue eyes, but where Michael’s hair was dark and tended toward unruliness, Wesley’s was blond and perfectly coiffed.
“Bex,” he whispered, his gaze traveling up and down her body, cataloging the differences time had wrought. She did the same to him. There were faint crinkles around his eyes, and he stood with more self-assurance than he had before, but otherwise he was the same old Wesley.