I need another drink. More alcohol probably isn’t going to help, but I need some space from Wes and going to the bar is a great excuse. With our hands wrapped up together, I do my very best to appear unaffected. But between being this close to him and the adrenaline from watching these hot guys jousting; the blood rushing through my body has me feeling like I’m about to combust.

I stand up, and our hands remain linked. He squeezes my fingers in between his, and his eyes are full of unspoken longing and confusion.

“Where you going?”

“I’m just going to get a drink, I’ll be right back,” I tell him.

He stands, and gestures for me to sit down. “If you need a drink, let me get it for you.”

“I don’t mind,” I stammer. “I’ve got to call Lucy anyway. Do you want anything on my way back?”

“Here,” he says, trying to hand me some money.

“Seriously, Wes? Were having a good time, don’t fuck it up with some archaic tradition.”

He shakes his head, and puts the money back in his pocket, and picks up his beer, “in that case, another one of these would do.”

“Gotcha, I’ll be back soon.” I bend down and grab my wallet and phone out of my bag and walk toward the bar.

After putting in the drink order and paying, I lean on the bar and send a quick text to Lucy asking how mom is and what her and Jeremiah are doing tonight. And just for an extra distraction I open the Timber app and fire off a text to BigBadWolf. I really do need to ask him his name, because everytime I think BigBadWolf I think I’m on Tumblr and not Timber.

Me: Hey, how are you? I hope you’ve had a good day.

My phone beeps and vibrates with a response quicker than I thought.

BigBadWolf: Hey, It started off rocky, but it’s really looking up. You?

Me: It’s been really great actually. I’m just out with my boss.

BigBadWolf: The guy you hate? On a date?

Me: I don’t hate him. And it’s more like friends out to dinner

BigBadWolf: You were singing a different tune yesterday. What changed?

Me: I don’t know, he’s been extra nice?

BigBadWolf: Maybe he is actually nice?

Me: Whatever.

BigBadWolf: Are you having a good time at least?

Me: Maybe too good

BigBadWolf: Is there such thing?

Me: I’ve got to get back to the table, break time is over.

Looking up a bottle of beer and my glass of wine are sitting there waiting on their lonesome. Putting my phone and wallet under my arm, I grab both drinks and make my way back to Wes. Once the path clears, I have a direct line of sight to him staring at his phone while drinking his beer. I’m about ten steps away when he lifts his head and our eyes lock on one another. Something is changing between us and I need to make the choice of where to take it. Putting my head down, I walk the rest of the way, I can’t have him looking at me like that.

Being here alone, away from everyone and everything; the past slips away and we’re just two people fighting an undeniable attraction. Well, I’m fighting it, but Wes is taking any chance he can, to tell me he wants this to happen.

I place the drinks in the middle of the table and slowly take my seat. Sitting in silence I let the cool liquid slide down my throat. This whole celebratory dinner feels like it’s moving too fast. My mind has gone from ‘oh, what a great place’ to ‘How long do I gotta wait till he kisses me?’

“So, how was work today?” I ask Wes. Hoping to change the direction of my thoughts and focus on something else.

“We survived,” he says with a smirk.

“I’m impressed.”

“You would be. You know we’re going to be just fine when you go,” he taunts.

“You act like I care what happens to you or your business.”

“Oh, I know you do. That’s why you had to veto all the applicants.” His voice laced with sarcasm. I can feel the familiar tension building between us. This is our foreplay.

“You don’t want a dud.”

“No, I would rather you stay,” he says honestly.

“Because seeing you everyday is on my list of things to do,” I retort.

“You know I can read you like an open book.” He smirks.

“You can’t read shit.” He leans forward and instinctively I lean and meet him in the middle.

“You mean you think I can’t tell that you’re trying to pretend you’re not having a good time?”

“I told you I was having a good time,” I argue.

“You forgot to add the part where you say you were having a good time, with me.” He says, as he points to his chest.

“You wish.”

“Actually, I do. Would it be so hard to admit you like me?”

“Like you?” I echo.

“Want me, maybe?”

“That’s a stretch,” I scoff. Our faces are so close, our breaths mingling with one another.

“Like I said I can read you and your body language, just fine.” His voice is low and gravelly, pushing on every single button. He knows when he antagonizes me, I automatically have to have the upper hand. The ball has to be in my court and I need to have the last say.

I lightly tug on his beard and pull him closer to me, I lick my lips and decide to give in to the heady intoxication of the alcohol and the high I’ve felt all night from being around him. Catching him off guard and doing something he leasts expects.

“Wait.”

“What,” I say in shock

“Get up and walk to the car.”

“What the fuck, Wes?”

“Just for once Avery, do what I fucking say,” he demands.

I stand up and take a deep breath. Grabbing my bag, I walk to the car, the cool breeze soothing the heat radiating off my skin. Leaning my back against his car, I close my eyes and wait for Wes.

I feel him before I see him, and my breathing picks up. I try and keep my eyes closed, hoping I can hold on to my control for a little bit longer. When his body is directly in front of mine, I open my eyes. His stare is blazing; lust and desire unable to be hidden. With his hands on either side of me, he lowers his head to my ear and whispers, “When I finally get you into my bed, I’m going to have a great time teaching you how to follow my instructions.”

My heart begins to beat faster, pounding against my chest. My mouth is dry and the usual snark is nowhere to be found. His lips start at my collarbone and make their way up my neck. He’s peppering my skin with kisses and goosebumps erupt all over. Pulling back, his eyes zero in on my mouth. “Cat got your tongue, Ave?”

At the mention of my tongue, I instinctively lick my lower lip, anticipation emanating off every part of me. With all resolve and rationale out the window, I taunt him one more time. “My tongue works just fine, Wes. But if you don’t kiss me now, I’m going to walk back into that building and find somebody who will.”

It takes less than a second for his lips to be on mine, his hands find their way under my ass and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him, and an exhilarating battle fueled by passion and rage ensues. Rough and unrestrained, I let him fuck my mouth.

Our tongues match stroke for stroke, while our bodies boldly grind against each other in public. There’s no care in the world, all that matters is the way his hard cock is rubbing up on just the right spot. I moan in his mouth, and Wes groans in response. I can’t handle the pressure anymore, I need to feel him on me and in me. I pull back and hold his head in my hands, I make sure I have his attention, wanting to see his reaction as the words leave my mouth. “Take me to your place, Wes.” The message is loud and clear.

His eyes widen, “are you sure?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “But let’s go before I change my mind.”