The Revenge Games Duet

“Liam, just don’t. Please don’t,” I beg, softly.

With a heavy sigh, he says goodbye, reluctantly, until the sound of my cell beeps informing me the call has ended. I stare at the screen for minutes, sad to say goodbye on such terms and wishing he could just let his anger toward Wesley go.

There isn’t much time to dwell on his words as I make a mad dash for my car, racing home so I can change and head over to Wesley’s.

I can’t wait to see him.

Finally, I will be getting those much-needed answers to the questions that will either make or break our relationship.

Chapter Nineteen

Wesley pulls out all the stops to woo me tonight.

Outside, on the patio, sits a small, round table with two wicker chairs. Two candles sit on the tabletop along with some fancy china, positioned perfectly next to the pool with a view of the city lights. It’s beautiful, romantic, and another side to Wesley Rich that I haven’t seen.

I expect that a maid would serve us, so I’m surprised when I find Wesley in his kitchen, busily marinating the chicken with his bare hands and swaying his hips to a jazz tune that sounds slightly familiar.

“You can cook?”

“I’m not just a pretty face, baby. Pass me the paprika.”

“Is that the red stuff?”

His eyes light up with amusement, accompanied with a mischievous grin. “If you’re planning to be a housewife one day, you need to know your spices.”

“Right.” I throw a piece of cucumber at him, playfully. “That’s so sexist.”

“Why? You’ll look good in a kitchen, wearing an apron, and kids running around you.”

My gaze shifts toward the wine glass sitting in my hand. I swirl the wine, taking a large quantity in as I brush off the ‘kids’ comment. The uneasiness that momentarily graces the pit of my stomach disappears as the wine settles in nicely. With a forced smile, I continue to tease him. “Women around the world will crucify you if they hear that.”

“Well, lucky only the one I care about heard, huh?”

I’m unable to hide the girly giggle that escapes my mouth, enjoying this moment with him. How can a man, barefoot and wearing shorts, be so damn sexy with a raw carcass in his hand?

“Okay, smartass. Seriously, what can I do to help?”

“Get naked.”

“Wesley! I’m serious.”

Moving to the sink, he washes his hands thoroughly before responding. “I’m serious. I haven’t fucked you since this morning. We fight in the boardroom. You call me Mr. Rich twice, and you also mention some other boyfriend you had. Do I need to explain how hard I am right now?”

He moves to me, wrapping his arms around my neck. His hands touch my skin, the cool sensation from the cold water, causing me to shiver slightly. The dress I’m wearing exposes my shoulders, and the fabric is light and flowy. Feeling slightly exposed, my posture caves in to protect myself from the cold.

Wesley positions his body against mine, allowing me to warm up. My body—now accustomed to his body temperature—begins to relax as he cups my face and draws me in, kissing me deeply. I hate that he can do this to me—make everything go away with a simple kiss—and how my body reacts first, not my heart or my head.

“You’re so delicious when you’re angry.” He bites my lower lip between my gasps.

“When was I angry…” I can barely say the words, my whole body ready to combust on the spot.

“You’re always angry with me. That’s why I can’t stop thinking about you… naked… here… ready for me.”

He lifts me onto the counter, moving the food away so he can lay me down. Spreading my legs apart, he watches as my panties are in full view, eyeing them with such desire. He remains quiet, leaning in between my legs and running his nose along the outside of the fabric, my moans echoing loudly in the large kitchen from the anticipation.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” I plead, though unconvincingly.

Wesley’s eyes remain fixated on mine, cursing me with a satisfied grin. He loves to control us—everything from the moment we kiss until the second we finish.