Page 69 of Sunshine

He gives a small nod over his shoulder, beckoning me to follow him before he disappears around the corner.

My heart thunders, a wild pounding reaching my throat. I turn to find Rhett busy with customers at the other end of the bar, and a quick look around proves that the other patrons are engaged in their own conversations. It’s all the encouragement I need to tip back the rest of my drink and slide off of my stool.

I find Wells in the open doorway to the office, a blue-lit sign that hangs from the hallway wall shining over him. It makes him look even more enticing, and I move toward him like a moth to a flame.

“You look good in neon.” His eyes roam my face before they trail down my throat. And I feel it again: a dangerous pull for more.

It’s what coaxes the question from my mouth. “How good?”

His eyes snap up to mine and I see how they change, how his pupils swallow his beautiful brown irises whole. And he must understand the dare in my bones, because he’s suddenly standing taller, shoulders growing wider as he crowds into my space. He steps toward me so I’m forced to move until my back makes contact with the wall of the hallway behind me. The base of my skull disturbs a frame that hangs, but neither of us addresses it. “Layla,” he breathes, the low timbre of his voice like the softest velvet.

His restraint is cracking, the splintered edges of his control fraying by the second. It feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the narrow space around us. And I might be the world’s biggest fool, but Iwanthim to give in—it would be such a relief to all this restlessness in my heart.

So, emboldened by the tremble of his hand as it settles on my hip and the way I’m burning from the inside out, I decide I’m ready to face this fire head-on instead of running from it again. I brush my nose against his, inhaling the spice of his cologne and those familiar traces of wintergreen, and I say it. “Kiss me.”

I feel the sharp breath he takes in, the way he holds it in his lungs as he looks at me with so much longing I’m not sure I can stand it.

And then he does.

His mouth moves against mine painfully slow, giving me so many chances to stop him, to stop this. But when I let out an eager whimper, his tenderness turns hungry. His hips pin mine against the wall, fingers pressing deep into my skin as he takes what he wants from my mouth. “Fuck, Layla,” hewhispers against my lips, darting his tongue out to part me open.

He glides his fingers up my jaw, where they settle possessively behind the nape of my neck as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck and when a soft moan escapes me, he grunts and skates his teeth along my chin before his mouth presses hot against my throat.

My body practically sings under his touch, and it’s . . . confusing. It’s confusing and damn near terrifying and . . . oh mygodhis hands are rough and calloused as they whisper up my arms. “Wells,” I plead, but I’m not sure what I’m begging for. He responds with a thrust, pressing his hips further into mine as he lifts my right leg up and over his waist. I nearly cry out as the skirt of my dress slips and bunches where his jeans meet my inner thigh, the buckle of his belt digging into my skin.

“I’ve been going out of my mind,” he murmurs against my temple before leaning down to take my bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ve been fucking dying for this, Layla.”

His confession is a match struck in a room full of kerosene, and I can only hope we’re both not burned by the fire. He drags the stubble of his chin along my throat as I whisper, “I’m going to make a mess of this.” I’m incapable of stopping what’s happening, incapable of any restraint. But Wells deserves an out if he needs one.

“Make a mess of me, then,” he insists, and I lose myself in him completely. His hips rock forward as his hand trails down my side to slip under my dress. Fingers ghost along my thigh, and my breath catches. “Can I go down on you?” he asks, his bee-stung lips slick from my mouth. “Please?”

My core pulses violently at the need in his voice, and whenI give him an eager nod, he immediately drops to his knees. “Will anyone find us?”

He shakes his head, lifting my raised leg over his shoulder. “It’s just Rhett and me tonight, and he’s busy out there.”

Of all his brothers, Rhett is thelastone I’d want to catch this. There’s no telling what he’d do. But with Wells’s impatient expression between my legs, my need for more outweighs all sanity. And when he tugs my panties to the side to expose my desire, I freeze in heady anticipation.

I look down to watch him in wonder. He keeps the cotton of my underwear pinned with one hand as his other traces my inner thigh. He’s looking at my skin in awe, and it takes a moment to realize what he sees—the imprint of his buckle, where it was branded into my flesh. It takes the shape of a rodeo horse, outlined in red. He thumbs it softly, breath shaking as he whispers, “So fucking beautiful.”

And when he turns his attention back to where I’m bared open for him, his eyes turn black. It takes only seconds for him to take me into his mouth, for his tongue to make contact where I want him most, and I nearly combust on the spot. He hums out a rattling breath and I feel it vibrate through my bones. There is nothing tender about the way he sucks against me, the way his teeth nip at swollen skin. There is only his hunger and my need, and we’re both undone by it.

The impact is so intense that I squirm against his hot mouth, but a strong hand at the base of my spine holds me in place. His other hand disappears beneath him, and when he lets out a soft grunt, I realize he’s touching himself. A wave of pleasure tips inside of me, crashing through every limb, and soon I’m on the precipice of completely unraveling. “I’m close,” I whimper. “Fuck, Wells, I’m so close.”

He groans out a guttural sound, and it’s what takes me over the edge. I cover a hand over my mouth to stifle a cry as my mind blanks. The orgasm is a growing, blasting thing of light, and I don’t know how to contain myself.

“Shh,” he gently shushes from beneath me. But then his forehead presses into my stomach and he’s trying like hell to smother his own groans, and I realize thathe’scoming. It takes me by surprise that this would be enough to get him off, too. A savage delight shakes through me. A feeling of power like I’ve never experienced before.

After a long breath, he tips his head back to look up at me, an almost shy smile on his slicked lips. He carefully positions my underwear back in place and smooths my dress back down before he rises.

But he doesn’t back away. Those lips connect with mine, and I can taste myself on them. “Do you have anywhere else to be tonight?” His eyes are sharp and hopeful.

“No.” I shake my head.

“Good,” he says simply, adjusting himself through his pants. “I’m not done with you yet.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

THEN

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