Facing West (Forever Wilde 1)

When I finally ripped my eyes away from his intense gaze and looked at his cock, I barely refrained from an audible gulp. It was a nice fucking cock, but it was thick enough to intimidate me just a little.

I looked up at West again and saw a completely different look on his face. It was less intense lust and more… I wasn’t sure. Softness? Sweetness? It was enough to make me pause and wonder what had changed. Whatever it was, I wasn’t sure I liked it.

He quickly pulled his pants back up, crouched down in front of me, and slid his hands onto either side of my face to cup my jaw.

“Nico, will you let me take you to bed, please?”

His voice was velvety smooth, and something about the situation made me feel like there was suddenly a boulder sitting on my chest.

I’d never in my life had someone sink to the floor to stop me from sucking them off because they wanted… more?

My eyes met his, and I saw a gentle kindness in them I’d been trying so hard not to notice before. My body still wanted him, my brain was still bobbing its fool head, but my heart…

My heart was shaking its head from side to side and muttering to itself.

Just as I suspected. Now you’ve gone and done it. My poor heart, urging me once again not to let this man in.

But I went ahead and did it anyway.

Because I was a stupid motherfucker.

Chapter 16

West

If I wasn’t so intent on getting Nico into my bed, I might have laughed at how mixed up my emotions were. I was two sides of a convoluted coin when it came to Nico. The horny “fuck him, fuck him now” side and the lovesick “wrap him up in your bed and hold him” side. One wanted to bark at him to strip and get on his hands and knees. The other wanted to run a bubble bath and rub his fucking feet.

I’d never in my life felt both those things so strongly for another person.

When I’d seen him kneel for me, it was too much. I wanted my cock in his mouth desperately, but I didn’t want him like that—a quick suck on my kitchen floor with half our clothes still on.

So I asked if he’d let me take him to the bedroom, and he’d looked at me like I’d asked a deckhand if he’d wanted to keep the yacht for himself. Like he couldn’t believe his luck. Like he was being offered something he didn’t deserve.

Which just made me angry. Why didn’t he think he deserved to be treated better than a blow job on the floor? What had happened to him in his life to make him think he wasn’t worth being treated with kindness and consideration?

He slowly stood and looked at me like a skittish colt, ramping up my heart rate even more with an unfamiliar feeling. And when he reached out for my hand to help me up, I felt it even more. It was like a happy crush. As if I was truly beginning to have feelings for the man.

And all that shit scared me stupid since I hadn’t been looking for anything like that with Nico Salerno. I’d brought him to my house to sleep with him, not to fall for him. I needed to get us back on track with the sex-only plan.

Once I stood, I pulled him in and kissed him briefly before leading him toward my bedroom.

In the short time it took us to get there, I’d become even more determined to shed the feelings part of what was happening between us and just focus on the physical stuff. I could worry about the deeper shit later. Or not.

“Or not” would be better.

I led him into my bedroom and quickly pulled him against me again for another kiss. His lip rings brushed my mouth, pulling more sounds of pleasure from both of us while my hands made quick work of the rest of our clothes.

Once we were completely naked, I lay him down in the center of my big bed and crawled over him. His tattoos stood out in sharp contrast from the stark white bedding, and I took a moment to run a hand over some of the images.

“So much ink,” I murmured. “Why so many different designs?”

A shadow passed over his face, and he looked away, turning his head to the side to take a breath. I quickly leaned down and nuzzled into his neck, trying to find the space under his ear that had seemed to make him feel good before.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Never mind.”

“Less conversation,” he said gruffly, exactly the way the Nico I’d met on day one would have responded. But he was right. We weren’t there to chitchat. We were there to fuck.