Recklessly (9 page)

              “Well, maybe you should’ve said, ‘The other girl I fuck works there,’ and I would’ve been on your side,” Kiera said with an edge to her tone.

              “Not necessarily,” Abel said after he emptied half his beer down his throat. “I knew and I voted differently. How could you not?”

              “Can we just have a pleasant meal? Is that okay, everybody?” Wes asked. “And we’re friends, Kiera. Remember?”

              “Well, I never paraded other guys in front of you…”

              “But you could have if you wanted…and I’m not going to argue with you about this. I need to use the bathroom.”
Fuckin’
buzz kill of a night. Wes sighed, walked away from the table, and went down to the first floor where the workers had just set up for karaoke. The bar scene was much livelier and louder down here, and a few people were dancing to the music flowing from the speakers.

              “Your date seems pissed at you.” Lana appeared on his left, balancing two towers of empty glasses in either hand.

              “She’s not my date. You need help?”

              “No. You’re not allowed to help. But thank you.” She walked away to set them on the bar before returning to him. “Does
she
know she’s not your date?”

              “Oh yeah. She just likes to pretend she doesn’t. Kiera’s
been
clear on what her and me are. Wes Elliott is
only
Wes Elliott’s, girl. So, how have you been?” he asked.

Lana shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Good. Busy with work. No time for play. You?”

“Busy with play…but I get to call it work…” he replied with a smile. The speakers emitted a familiar musical chord as a guy stepped up to the karaoke microphone, and Wes and Lana stared at each other. She smiled first. “Well, if he’s going to sing The Cure, I think we have to stand here and judge him.”

The not-so-sober guy on stage shouted a cringe-inducing version of “Pictures of You” to what looked like a bunch of his fraternity brothers, who hooted and hollered throughout the whole, dreadful thing. Wes and Lana snickered as the guy fumbled through the lyrics and made them up when he needed to. Wes was pretty sure that at one point he was singing an entirely different song. Wes made a fist and mimicked speaking into a microphone.

“Well, Lana, at this point it appears he has introduced a weird foot pattern into the performance.”

“I think you’re right, Wesley. I believe he thinks he’s dancing,” Lana replied with her own fake microphone.

By the end, though, Wes and Lana joined in on the cheers purely for the entertainment value of the show. “A four,” Wes whispered.

“Out of ten? Then a two!” After a laugh, Lana looked at her watch. “Hey, I’m officially on break and your food probably won’t be out for a while; come outside with me,” she said in that tone he found so irresistible, and Wes followed her out to an adjacent alley.

“It’s good to see you, Lana,” Wes said, pulling her into a hug. Her hair smelled amazing, and he was tempted to lick her neck. But he really wanted to lick her everywhere.

“You too. Look…about what your brother said…I wanted to call, Wes, but I know guys like you,” she said when they pulled apart, and she retreated to the opposite wall.

Wes smirked. “Do you? Okay, so tell me about me then.”

“Even excluding the girl at the table upstairs, who was a few minutes short of popping a squat and peeing on your shoe, you could send a mass text message to
all
the women in your contacts saying, ‘I want to see you,’ right now, and get a response from every one of them before this conversation ends. They’d bend over backwards for you on command.” Lana pressed out a slow-spreading smile. “I mean that literally.”

The corners of his mouth started to curl because he wanted to laugh so badly; she was right. Wes strode up to her, liking and hating that about her. “I liked
you
bending over in
Vices
.
”

He had expected her to blush, but she only held her unabashed smile. And he connected to something behind her stare—something bold, unrestrained. Pretty girl, wild heart.
Pretty wild
. “That’s not the point, Wes. All I’m saying is, you have tons of options, and
one
girl
not
calling you doesn’t really faze a guy like you…except you’ve never been in a situation where a woman didn’t call...or freak out because you didn’t. You’re having trouble handling it. So now your ego needs answers, right? That’s why you’re
really
here.” She paused to expand a celebratory grin. “How’d I do? Did I nail it?”

“Okay, I’m a slave to my ego sometimes. Happy?” Wes touched the side of her face before his hands fell to her waist. He eased her hips back and pinned them to the wall. She tensed just slightly, gripping his forearms, when his lips touched her earlobe and grazed the start of her jawline. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you…”

Lana turned her head a notch, and he pulled back, gaze dropping to her mouth when she bit her bottom lip. His core warmed as he was swept up in a fantasy of towing his tongue across her mouth, then another of giving her more reasons to need to bite her lip.

“Oh, yeah? I was thinking about you, too.” Lana clutched the front end of his shirt before her hand slipped underneath it. “And I guess I can admit that
my
ego was hoping you’d be the one to make first contact,” she said, laughing, but it quickly faded off into a contemplative look.

Wes planted his hands on the wall above their heads and brought his lips close to hers. “Well, I’m here now...and I don’t want us to play this game.”

“Why? ‘Cause I won?”

“‘Cause I want you.”

“Is that so?”

“Did you have fun the other night? ‘Cause I did. I don’t even
really
mean the bathroom; I mean
all
of it. Hanging out, talking surfing and music…being with you. I want to do it all again. Nothing complicated.”

“Oh, I see. Just the fun, huh? Pretty upfront, Wes Elliott.”

“You’re beautiful, you’re funny, and we had an all-around great night together. I want to have more great nights. I don’t want to beat around the bush with you. There are two things about ‘the mating game’ that I can’t really deal with. People who pretend they want a relationship to get sex, and those who use sex to try to get a relationship. So, yeah, I’m upfront.”

“Very telling how we keep ending up at a place called
Vices
at the exact same time.” Lana undid the two buttons of his shirt. “I
have
been thinking I only got a preview last time…”

“You did…” he said with a sly smile. “But, look, I’m cool with us just being friends, too, if you want that instead.”
But please don’t want that.

She smiled; it was fleeting but calculating. “No, ‘cause we’d
try
to be friends…”

“And just keep fucking each other? I’m not good with unresolved sexual tension.”

“Good. I like my sexual tension…” Her nails shimmied down his stomach and he sucked in air between his teeth. “…
Pretty
resolved.”

His lips skated over her cheek, from her earlobe to the edge of her mouth. “Then come home with me...” But Wes hadn’t actually figured out how that would work, given his current dinner company or the fact that her shift wasn’t over. “Come home with me.”

Lana caressed his face then joined their lips in a flurry of a kiss. A kiss so intense, so robbing of his breath, Wes nearly forgot they were outside against a brick wall as thoughts of giving in to the passion right there swam into his head. God, there was so much he wanted to do with Lana. Learn her body. Find out what she was into. Her fantasies and favorite positions.

She pulled away suddenly. “Lose the baggage and come to my place. I’ll text you my address. I get off at twelve-thirty.” A jolt ripped through his body when her fingertips coasted across his abs.

He caught her wrist when she started walking away. “Yeah…” Wes brought the back of her hand to his lips. “…But later, too.”

*

Lana lived in a quiet apartment complex in Marina Del Rey with an unobstructed view of the city’s namesake dock, and it was an “L.A. short” drive from his place. When she swung the door to her 3
floor apartment open, wearing shorts and a tank top, and a beer bottle pressed to her lips, his heart kicked into a sprint. His excitement to see her—to be with her again—had been building for a few hours with persistent images of what was to come. Charlotte and Kiera had insisted on staying at
Vices Hollywood
for two rounds of karaoke after dinner, and then Abel had prolonged their stay further with his aimless flirting with nearly every unattached woman at the place just to torture him.

“Hey, Deuce,” she said, as she gestured for him to step into the apartment. As he walked by her, Wes ran his hand along her stomach and tickled her side before she shut the door. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it was exceedingly homey. Simple. Neutral couches and blue carpeting. Nondescript art.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks. Rick helps to keep it from turning into a full-on frat house. He
is
sort of our dad.” She raised her beer. “You want one?” She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

“No, thanks. How was the rest of your shift?” Wes asked as he settled in a chair at the kitchen table.

“Great. Even without the tip from your table, I made a ton. I love Saturday nights at that place.” Watching the sway of her hips, his gaze tracked her to where she stopped in the kitchen. Her shorts were small and just hinting of the crescent of her ass at the hem. And then there were her legs: Tan, toned and even more stunning with the entire length of them visible. She was a cordial and efficient waitress, and sure that probably aided in her capability to get great tips, but her physical assets didn’t hurt, either.

She was so perfect. She was gorgeous, she knew surfing, she spoke her mind and she drank beer. If he were
really
the marrying type, Lana would’ve had a diamond the size of Brazil on her finger right now.
Shit.
He’d
buy
her Brazil.

As he looked around more, Wes envisioned every which way they’d fuck in her apartment, however and wherever she wanted. Couch. Kitchen counter. Carpet. Bathroom. Bed. Where-
fucking
-ever. Wes wanted to devour her. Look right into her eyes and watch her come until her body didn’t want to do anything except
that
ever again. The ferocity with which his blood flow hit his loins nearly left him dizzy.

“Sooo…?” she said after she tossed the empty beer bottle into the recycling bin.

“What?”

“That’s the extent of my conversation ability right now, Wes...”

“You didn’t really invite me over here to talk?” he asked in a faux coy tone.

She pushed her tongue into the corner of her smile. Lana shook her head, and he liked that she didn’t conceal what she wanted beneath a lot of frivolous conversation. Her smile widened to the most tantalizing grin before she pulled her shirt off over her head, and Wes was out of his chair, tearing his own off.

In a swift swoop, he set her down on the counter behind her, and holding her waist, he dragged her hips to his, as he listened to her breaths of anticipation pulse out the closer she got to him.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Sex with you? Or this no-frills thing?”

“Both…” Wes placed his lips to her ear. “You should know what you’re getting into—”

Clutching his neck, she said, “This isn’t my first rodeo, Deuce.”

“…‘Cause I like to fuck like I invented it. I mean, what’s the point if you don’t need to change the sheets afterward?” Beyond the pure hedonism of it, sex was worship for him, a moment to thank God for
Woman
. And he had quite the offering to make on Lana’s behalf. He pulled his tongue up from her earlobe to the top curve of her ear. “But I’ll ease you into it…”

Lana laughed as she reached back and unhooked her bra before she dug her knees into his obliques. She looked down at her bare breasts then back up to his face, drawing her tongue across her bottom lip. He’d be a lifelong ass guy but in the instant he could reconsider. “You wanna touch me, Wes?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do a whole lot more than touch you.” He leaned her back at a slight angle as he smashed his mouth to hers, his jaw clenching with anxiousness. Their lips connected in a gasping fury, both of them impatient, both guided simply by the fire of lust.

His tongue edged her lips before slicing through, and Lana sucked on his lip as he clutched both her breasts. The hardness of her nipples on his palms sent a rumbling streak of electricity straight to his bones, and turned his erection into a sweet throbbing ache that he wanted to bury so deep in her that the thought blurred his vision.

The groan that rushed out of him came as a surprise when Lana’s lips moved down his neck, licking and sucking their way to his pecs, as her nails coasted gently over his nipples. She grabbed his butt to pull him even closer, and then crushed her mouth to his chest. The pressure of her knees on his sides suddenly lightened as she spread wider and he shot his two fingers deep into her up the leg of her shorts. “Wet…”

“I was
touching myself,
thinking about us at
Vices...”

“Touch yourself now…” With a smile on her face, Lana pushed him away for a second to pull down her shorts and underwear. She laced her fingers along her stomach and pressed them to her clit as he slid his fingers back into her body. The nerve endings in his groin were flooded with sensation, almost overwhelmingly, and Wes pumped his fingers harder into her. Lana’s moans were low and soft, offering a challenge to make her cry out louder. Wes gripped the back of her neck and made her lock eyes with him. Her body undulated in pace with his motion, and every clench from her pushed him toward being unable to ignore how badly he wanted to be inside her, feel on his dick what was happening on his hand. She gaped as she slipped closer to her climax, and he burned all over from the look of ecstasy in her eyes.