Weston

“Welcome back, Weston.” I looked up from the paperwork on my desk to see Kat, my handler, standing next to my desk. I lifted my chin in greeting. Her eyes flickered up and down my body, and I felt like there was something odd in her expression. Then again, I knew what she was seeing.

My hair was buzzed along the sides but left just a little too long on the top. A small silver hoop winked from my right ear lobe, and scruff covered the bottom half of my face, like always. It didn’t matter if I shaved in the morning. She couldn’t see most of it under my dress shirt and suit coat, but my arms, hands, chest, and back were covered in ink and with my height and muscular build, it was pretty common for people to fear me. I looked like one badass motherfucker.

I was also one hell of a shot, a decent boxer, and could out drink most men. Most people would never guess that I was born into a wealthy family, had a degree from Harvard, and was worth millions.

The Company took full advantage of my look and skills, sending me on the most dangerous missions in the seedy underbellies of the world. It wasn’t until this last mission that I began to question how long my life expectancy really was if I kept up with these jobs.

“Hey, Kat. I’m about to head to my meeting, just grabbing my reports.” I shook my head as I shuffled through them again. “A year undercover on one fucking assignment, you’d think The Company could streamline it down to one.”

She snickered and stepped back when I stood, grabbing my bag and coat. I was beat, I hadn’t even been home yet, instead coming straight to the office for my assignment debrief.

I stuck my hands in the pockets of my slacks as we walked, a question rolling around in my head. It was ridiculous to ask. It had been a year of silence, but somehow, I still couldn’t help holding out a spark of hope. “Have there been any messages to that dummy email I set up?”

Kat threw me a look of sympathy and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Wes. Nothing.”

A flash annoyance streaked through me at her use of the nickname. I fucking hated being called Wes, but it wasn’t worth correcting her, she’d just keep using it. I pushed the irritation aside and got back to my original question.

“You checked to make sure it was working?” I drilled her with a no-nonsense stare. Her lips turned down into a pout, and I checked the urge to roll my eyes.

“Of course I did. I sent several test emails. It’s hard enough being undercover, I wanted to make sure you weren’t completely cut off from everyone but me.” We reached the conference room door and she smiled before stepping inside. I waited for a moment, trying to get a grip on my disappointment. In lieu of putting my fist through the wall in front of me, I mentally pounded on my head, trying to dislodge any remaining emotions toward Aspen Kennedy. It didn’t work. She’d turned me into a fucking pussy.

I sighed and went in, taking a seat across the table from my superior. I spent the next three hours going over every detail of every report I’d written about my assignment. By the time we were done, I was dead on my feet. I grabbed a cab to my Georgetown apartment, barely noticing all of the stately scenery that made up Washington D.C. Instead, thoughts of Aspen filled my head, no matter how hard I tried to avoid them. When I finally fell into bed, I didn’t have the energy to fight them any longer and I was swamped in her memory.

Before this last mission, I’d stopped in Atlanta to see my baby sister, Jenna. We’d grown up there and while I’d gone to Georgetown University in D.C., she’d stayed close to home, even though our parents had retired to Florida. I had intended to spend the whole week with her, but Friday night, I’d gone to a bar with my best friend, Xander, and everything changed.

That was where I met her. She was sitting at the bar, her back facing me so that my first glimpse of her was long, wavy blonde hair, curvy hips, and a round, luscious ass. Then she turned slightly to her left, leaning in to hear the woman sitting next to her. I was struck speechless by a classically beautiful profile, spectacular tits, and a pair of endless legs. Legs that were practically naked due to the fucking scrap of fabric that could only generously be referred to as a skirt. I’d felt a possessive growl rumbling in my throat and immediately headed her way.

My attention was stolen from her stems when she threw her head back and laughed. Speechless didn’t cover what I felt at that moment. I didn’t realize it at the time, but by the end of the weekend, I knew, that was the moment I fell in love.

When I reached her side, the little redhead she was obviously with smiled brightly, winked at me, and swiveled her stool to strike up conversation with the person on her other side. I immediately liked her.

My beautiful blonde turned around and her rich, brown eyes locked onto mine. I started to extend my hand for a shake but before I knew it, I’d cupped her face and was laying a firm kiss on her plump, rosy lips. To my surprise, she immediately melted into me.

Sparks flew between us, and I felt every single one shoot straight to my rapidly hardening cock. My skin sizzled everywhere we touched and I was quickly becoming desperate for her. I wanted her underneath me, on top of me, bent over in front of me. But along with the blazing desire to fuck her, I felt a need to know her.

When I finally pulled back, she looked a little dazed, then a grin stole across her face. I knew I should say something, but her smile practically knocked me on my ass. This girl was everything my dreams were made of. And, somehow I knew, the beauty on the inside would match that of the outside.

“While that was probably the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life”—I might have puffed up like a fucking peacock. See? Pussy—“I think we should at least know each other’s name before we end up in another lip lock.”

I chuckled, sliding my hands from her face, down her neck, circling her throat. “Weston Davis,” I murmured. I stole another quick kiss. “Okay, your turn.”

She laughed and warmth bloomed in my chest. “Aspen Kennedy.” Even her name was gorgeous. Though, Aspen Davis had a nicer ring to it. The thought had come out of fucking nowhere and for the umpteenth time that night, I was stunned by the situation. However, it only took another touch of our mouths for me to accept it. Yeah, this girl was going to rock the name Aspen Davis.

I got us both drinks and led her to a table where we talked for over an hour until I was out of patience. I stood and asked her to come with me. She’d taken my hand and when she got up, I tucked her into my side. She was average height, but I still towered over her in her sparkly, silver flats. Perfect. She was fucking perfect.

By the end of the night, when she was naked, cuddled up in my arms, and fast asleep, I quietly called my sister and begged her forgiveness. The rest of the weekend was devoted to Aspen and when Monday arrived, I’d never hated my job more.

There wasn’t much I could tell her, but I gave her an email address so she could get in touch with me, and Kat was the link between the email and me. Aspen rode with me to the airport and I held her until the very last minute. Right then, I knew that was going to be my last assignment as a field operative.

For the next twelve months, I anticipated every opportunity I had to pick up communications from my dead drops. Every time, I expected to see something from Aspen, but it never came. I went through cycles of anger, disappointment, and even wondered if I’d imagined the connection between us.

Now I was home and confident it hadn’t been an illusion but torn as to whether I should pursue her and force her to face it. She obviously didn’t want to hear from me. That was just too fucking bad. Questioning myself wasn’t my style, I needed to man up and end this bullshit.

I’d made a decision. Aspen was mine, and I wasn’t letting her go without a fight. No, fuck that. I wasn’t letting her go at all.

I finally fell asleep, but as usual, I woke up in a sweat, on the verge of coming from dreams of our time together. And, like most mornings, I took a frigid fucking shower to cool myself off.

I called a friend at the agency and had them look her up for me. Since I was already packed, all I had to do was swap out my clothes and I was ready to go. I took off for the airport and bought a ticket on the first flight to Atlanta. I didn’t want to take the time to drive or ride my bike, so I booked an SUV, a rental car that could comfortably accommodate my size. I kept another chopper at my sister’s house anyway. Once I arrived, I picked up my rental and checked into my hotel. Then I quickly dropped my stuff on the bed and jogged back out to my rental. Suppressing my nerves, I drove the thirty minutes out to the suburb where she lived.

As I pulled into a parking stall in front of a newer, brick apartment building, my hands clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. My body was already tense, sensing her nearness and begging to be inside her again. I climbed out of the SUV, my heart thumping, and I vaguely wondered if it was as loud to others as it was in my head.

I locked the car and approached the building equally as eager as I was anxious, but predominantly, determined. Her apartment was on the second floor, up a set of stairs and down a covered, outdoor walkway. Each residence had their own entry directly to the outside, rather than being in an enclosed building.

Coming to a halt in front of a shiny black door with 212 painted in gold, I took a deep breath in and a slow exhale out. Then I knocked on the door.

Half a beat later, I heard rustling on the other side and then the click of the lock sliding out of the mechanism. This time, I held my breath as the door swung open. The oxygen locked in my lungs the moment I finally laid eyes on my woman. Damn, she was even more fucking stunning than I remembered. My eyes drank her in, starting at her bare feet and pale pink painted toes, up and up, over every luscious curve, until I was once again gazing into deep brown eyes. Eyes filled with shock and her rosy lips forming a little O.

My lungs finally released and I stepped forward, dragging her into my arms and kissing the fuck out of her. She went lax, sinking into me, and I took advantage of her open mouth to sweep my tongue inside. She tasted like sugar and her scent wrapped itself around me, reminding me of tart apples and cinnamon.

“I missed you so fucking much, beautiful,” I mumbled against her lips.

Her hands were clutching my biceps, then slid up, over my shoulders and down to rest on my chest. I was just about to swing her up into my embrace when suddenly, she shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, but regained my senses rapidly enough to slam my hand against the door as she attempted to swing it shut. What the fuck?

Thick, heavy silence hung between us, our eyes glued to each other in a stare down. Finally, I’d had enough and I gripped her arms, lifting her out of my way before crossing the threshold and slamming the door behind me. She gasped and her beautiful face twisted with anger.

Almost frantically, she spun around but froze, seemingly listening for something. The room opened into a kitchen just behind her, but her attention appeared to be on the entrance to a hallway off to the side. Was there someone back there? Murderous rage burned in my veins. If there was, he better be climbing out the fucking window or he was going to find himself being booked into hospital as a woman after I tore his balls off.

When there was no sound, she pivoted back to face me. “What the hell are you doing here, Weston?” she ground out.

I started towards her, backing her up until she was up against a wall and my body caged her in. “Is there someone back there, Aspen?” I asked with deadly calm. “Did you offer up what’s mine to someone else?”

She sputtered indignantly, “What? Of course not—what do you mean yours? You gave up your claim on me, you jerk!”

I believed her, but she was dead fucking wrong if she thought I didn’t still own her. “I don’t know what the fuck happened after I left, Aspen, but I know what we had was real. I’m here for you and I’m not letting you get away.”

She peered up at me with confusion, then shook her head and fury returned to her expression. “You can’t throw me away and then just show up expecting me to fall back into bed with you. I’m not a booty call, Weston, and my circumstances have changed drastically. Arbitrary weekends of fucking aren’t a luxury I can indulge in.”

Throw her away? What the fuck?

“That was a hell of a lot more than a weekend of casual fucking and you know it,” I growled, leaning in close and wrapping my hands around her hips. I opened my mouth to say more when the air was rent with the sound of a baby’s cry.

Aspen stiffened and shoved at me again, like last time, I was startled and teetered back a few inches. Enough for her to slip past me and hurry down the dark hallway. It couldn’t be . . . right? Curiosity had me following her into a bedroom painted in a soft blue, with white furniture, including a crib, with a mobile of circus animals. As if that weren’t alarming enough, she was standing next to it cuddling an infant to her chest.

I could tell right away it was her son, they had the same nose and mouth. She’d had a baby? She’d said she hadn’t been with anyone else. Had she lied and really moved on? In my desperate and devastated state, I almost missed the fact that the child had dark hair and was peering at me from her arms with striking green eyes. Eerily similar . . . holy fuck. This was my kid.

“You had my baby?” I croaked. There were so many emotions weighing down on me, I felt almost dizzy. But at the forefront of my mind was wrath. “Were you ever going to tell me?”