I squeeze my eyes shut so hard light starts to dance behind my eyelids, but I continue to refuse to open them or to even think about Wes anymore.
After several hours that I’m sure in reality was only five minutes, I let out a frustrated cry, grabbing my phone and giving in to see what he said.
Wes: Just say the word and I’ll be at your door.
No. No way.
Bailey: I could say another word to make you stop.
Wes: You could.
Wes: But you won’t.
The worst part is he’s right. I won’t. At least not yet because as much as I want to deny the things my body is feeling, they’re evident. And he’s the only one that’s made me feel like this in…ever.
He reads my body in a way I’ve never experienced before. My ex, who in hindsight was a real asshole, shamed me for my desires when I finally shared the things I wanted with him.
Put me in my place.
Give me a little pain.
He thought he was trying, but pulling my hair and spanking my ass was not enough.
Wes has already made me feel more in the two times he’s touched me than Jake did in the entire year we were together. And that was without me needing to say a single thing about what I want.
My eyes swing toward his window, and I wait to see if he’s going to appear. It’s like I can feel his eyes on me, even though I don’t even think he’s standing there. Then his light turns off, and I sit up to get a better look. I wait to see what’s going to happen, but nothing does. The room is silent, dark and suffocating.
The ding from my phone sounds louder than usual, the noise ricocheting off the walls. I pick it up and my annoyance is back full force at the two words staring at me on the screen.
Wes: Goodnight, Bailey.
This motherfucker.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. He wants me to come to him, but it’s not going to happen.
CHAPTER 13
Wes
“Doyou actually want to ride any of them one of these days or just do the dirty work?” Jameson asks, entering the barn as I bring back the wheelbarrow I used to clean out the horse stall.
“I think they like thinking I’m their bitch.”
“They don’t think that. They’re probably wondering why you sneak them treats but don’t do anything else with them.”
“I clean up their stalls and brush them.”
“Next step is riding.”
I look over at the biggest horse, Juniper, remembering she was Jameson’s barrel racing horse for a while. She’s large with black and white spots, which I’ve been told is called an Appaloosa.
“She would take good care of you if you wanted to give it a try,” Jameson encourages.
“Maybe one day.” I look over at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be holed up with your new wife?”
He huffs out a laugh. “I tried, and she insisted she had to work today. But I’ll be whisking her away for our honeymoon in a couple of days. Would you mind coming by here to check on everything while we’re gone?”
“Not a problem.”
