Rebel

“University of Science and Technology in Missouri.” He grinned down at her. “Not USC, but I did okay.”



Her mouth dropped open. “How’d you know I went to USC? And why aren’t you an engineer?”



“Jax told me. And because it’s boring as hell.”



“Then why’d you major in it?”



He grew thoughtful, his gaze turning back to the rig. “My dad thought I had a talent for it. Could fix everything on the farm, repair any kind of machinery from a bent shovel to a state-of-the-art tractor. And I loved to build things. Took welding, woodshop, and automotive all through high school.” His voice was soft, contemplative. “I’m realizing I’ve lived a lot of my life to please my parents.”



“Did it work?” she asked, thinking of how much of her life she’d done the same—and failed every damn time.



Wes laughed, but the sound was self-deprecating. “Right up to the day I told them my plans in Hollywood.”



“Well,” she said, turning back to the rig, “based on your rig design for Wyatt, I’d have to agree with your father on the aptitude part. You’ve got something really amazing here.” She glanced at him again. “Do you realize that?”



The look he cast her was so deep, so genuine, and so…meaningful was the only way she could describe it, something twined around the pit of her stomach and squeezed. But the resulting sensation that oozed through her body was one of bondage, as if he were reaching inside her and tying off her lungs.



The twist of panic was familiar, but in a distant way. She hadn’t let anyone this close in so damn long she couldn’t gauge its severity. Couldn’t tell if it was the kind that would fade in an instant or the kind that hung on, seeped in, and choked her when she least expected it.



His arms tightened around her, and his mouth lowered to her shoulder again. “I’m well aware I’ve got something amazing right here.”



“I’m serious, Wes.” She covered his arms and had to fight not to pry them away with some lousy excuse to get room. “I know craftsmanship when I see it, and this is really special. Have you thought of selling it?”



She’d never suggest he do business with her father, but her mind was already stirring up ways to at least use Dolph to gauge the market interest for the rig.



Wes pressed closer, and the way he fit so perfectly to her every curve and dip made her mind blur around the edges. His hands released her waist and slid toward her belly. Sizzles erupted lower and gathered between her legs.



His chuckle said the thought was ridiculous. “No, I’m not interested in selling this thing. It’s just another one of my crazy-ass inventions. All I want is something that’s going to work for Wyatt.”



“You two are close, aren’t you?”



“He’s my big brother.” His tone was soft, filled with meaning as if that statement should have said everything. “I’ve idolized him my whole life. My parents would never admit it, but I know they wished I’d turned out more like him.”



“Then he must be something extra special, because it’s impossible for me to imagine what more they could want in a kid.” She ran her hands over his arms, turned her head, and kissed his cheek. His scruff was long enough to be soft beneath her lips. “Because you’re a good man, Wes.”



She deliberately extricated herself from his hold and sidestepped until they were three feet apart before she picked up the rig from the table and held it out to him. “Show me how it fits to you again.”



A grin slanted across his mouth as he took the rig from her, his gaze sliding over the shirt clinging to her curves. “Will you get on your knees for me?” He swung the rig behind him, settled the crossbar low on his spine and the metal arms down the outsides of his thighs. “You’ll have to strap me in while I hold it in place.”



She took the straps attached to the crossbar at his hips and pulled them to the center of his body, pressing the Velcro together. Heat wafted off his body along with the scent of pure Wes and the ocean. If she didn’t lower to her knees to get the straps of the thighs secured, she’d have to bend over, which would expose her bare breasts beneath the too-big T-shirt.



She chose the lesser of the two evils and lowered to her knees.



“Oh baby,” Wes murmured, his voice low and tight. “Do you have any idea what that does to me?”



The same thing it does to me.



She glanced at the thick, rigid line his erection created beneath his pants, remembered the feel of it in her hand. Against her ass. And grew wet. “I…think I might.” But changed the subject quickly. “What’s your next step with this?”



“Work those pants a little lower in front of your cute little nose, and I’ll show you.”



The will to keep him at arm’s length—okay, maybe finger’s length at the moment—was quickly fading. It took so much damn thought and effort. So much more than she had to give any other man.



“Because you’re crazy about him. Because you care. Because he matters. None of the others did. That alone should tell you everything you need to know.”



Lexi’s words filled her head, and she suddenly forgot why—exactly—she was holding him away instead of grabbing this damn contraption and using it to haul his cock into her mouth.



The thought caused an unexpected bubble of laughter to roll from her throat.



“What’s that about?” he asked.



She lifted her gaze to his. “Nothing.”



He reached out and skimmed the back of one finger over her cheek. “Give me a peek into that wicked mind, precious.”



“Dangerous.” She was growing freaking sick and tired of thinking about why she couldn’t allow herself to have this decadent man. “So where are you going with this contraption next?”



“I was hoping you could tell me. I’ve taken it as far as I can on my own, and even implementing your suggestions, which were amazingly intuitive, by the way, it’s still not what I envisioned, and I don’t think it’s going to be what Wyatt needs.”



She pulled her lower lip through her teeth as she finished securing the remaining straps. She had her hands pressed to the inside of his thigh when she glanced up. His gaze looked more blue than gray tonight.



“There’s a lot of untapped potential here,” she said, slowing her hands to appreciate the hard muscle of his thigh beneath his pants. His thighs were rock hard and thickly muscled. Same with his calves. He had great legs—all three of them.



“To make the hinges stronger and allow more control over their movement, I’d suggest adding the computer chip I mentioned. You can use a software program to collect data from the muscle through electrical sensors on the skin. Then write another program to instruct the motors in the hinges to deliver two or four or a thousand times the energy the program collects and rotate the hinges.”



Fastening the last strap, she inspected the rig, her mind unfolding connection ideas. A spark of excitement grew as she took a closer look at the canvas straps he’d used. “You could use the same elastic belts they use in polar transmission to—”



“Hold on,” Wes said. “Polar transmission?”



“You know the way those heart monitors work, the ones runners strap to their chest to determine heart rate?” She waited for a nod, then said, “That’s polar technology. It simply uses an elastic band to hold the imbedded chip that collects heart-rate data against the skin and transmits back to the main unit.”



His gaze cleared, and a hot smile curved his mouth. “If I said your ingenuity was making me hot, that would be weird, right?”



She laughed and sat back on her heels, imagining the setup. “Wow. Now that would be slick. If you imbedded the force sensors into the band, you wouldn’t have to worry about wires or—”



“Force sensors?” His eyes were wide, a little overwhelmed but intent.



“Force sensors will give you more specific pressure measurements than regular ones, allowing for more complicated and precise programming.”



“Oh, man,” he breathed. “Say polar transmission and force sensors again. That fucking turns me on.”



She laughed, pushed to her feet, and crossed her arms.



“Move in it,” she said, stepping to the side to watch the action of the uncovered hinge.



Wes crouched slowly, then straightened and bent at the waist.



“Okay,” she said when the mechanism moved as she’d expected. “But that’s not how you’re going to be using it, right?”



“No. Melissa’s given me a list of exercises he’ll be doing.”



“Melissa?”



“His physical therapist. And for the first week or two, he’ll only be walking when she does home visits.”



“Okay, then, walk into the living room, lie on the couch, and show me a couple of the exercises.”



He took a step toward the kitchen’s exit. Rubi reached out and stopped him by the arm with a laugh. “Slow down. Walk like he’s going to walk.”



“Picky, picky,” he teased, but slowed and shortened his step on the path to the living room. Rubi watched how the metal moved with Wes’s body, watched how the straps interacted with his thighs and calves. So she didn’t understand what Wes meant when he said, “This is an even more incredible view than Jax’s.”



She looked up and followed Wes’s gaze to the wall of windows that faced the ocean. Only one light shone in the living room, so the darkness outside wasn’t completely masked by the internal glow. The ocean beyond and the developing white caps were fully visible through the dark windows.



“It’s a beautiful location,” she said. “And the ocean calms me in a way I’ve never found with anything else. I love this house.” She pointed to the sofa. “Lie down.”



Wes turned a salacious grin toward her. “I love the way you think.”



“Shut up and lie down.”



“Damn, I think I love it when you get bossy too.” Wes glanced at the crimson velour and hesitated. “I’m sandy and wet… And just looking at that…makes me want to test this rig out in all kinds of unintended ways.”



“Just do it.”



“Yes, ma’am.” Wes stretched out, his long body swallowing the length. With a dramatic sigh, he clasped his fingers behind his head. The rig held tight to his pants, and they pulled lower on his hips, exposing that delicious area way below his flat belly button. Yes, definitely commando under there. Not a hint of boxer waistband anywhere.



“Like what you see, precious?”



She sighed, but it came out as a groan. “That body should be a registered weapon, Lawson.”



“You’ve just made every five a.m. workout worth it.”



“Get to work.”



She forced her gaze to his legs as he pulled one knee at a time toward his chest. But the flex and release of his abs with the movements made her want to lick the dip and swell of every muscle on his body. Curl, release. Curl, release. She dragged her lower lip through her teeth. Lift, lower. Lift, lower.