Chapter Fifteen
It was still dark when Wes silenced his alarm. Eleanor groaned as she edged to wakefulness.
“Good morning, Curly.” He pressed his lips against her neck.
“What time is it?” She rolled to face him.
“It’s five. I have an early meeting.” He nuzzled her cheek before ravishing her mouth.
Eleanor wrapped an arm around him and met his kiss with her own desire. Her breasts pressed against his chest.
“Mmm. You are starting something…”
She slipped her hand between them, enjoying the pleasure blooming across his face as she wrapped her hand around him. She had no time to think when he thrust two fingers deep within her. A guttural moan fell from her lips as she wrapped a leg over his hip and rode his fingers.
Wes moaned, and, after withdrawing his fingers, he reached for the second condom. “I want you on top,” he pleaded.
Eleanor ran her hand from his hilt to his tip, mesmerized by the pulsations from his hard cock. She straddled him, and Wes guided himself between her thick, glistening folds. His hands rose from her hips to her waist, holding her in place. She held his gaze, absorbing the pleasure from him being deep inside her. She rolled her hips and slowly lifted up and came down again. Wes let go of her and cupped her luscious breasts, arching from the pillows to take one of her pink nipples into his mouth. As he switched to tend to her other breast, he groaned, “So good.”
Eleanor quickened her pace. Tucking her pelvis to rub her swollen clit against him, her inner muscles clenched around him, her body writhing against him. Panting, she leaned down and nipped, pulling his lower lip with an unexpected aggressiveness.
Beneath her, he bucked deeper inside her, growling, “Ellie,” as he climaxed. His arms wrapped around her, caressing her back and buttocks, pouring his feelings into an intense kiss.
Panting, they lay connected in the early morning quiet. After a few minutes, Wes caressed her face. “Curly, we need to get moving.”
After a shower, she dressed in a pink, short-sleeve sweater and black jeans with her second pair of Wellies. After crimping her hair between her fingers, she applied a touch of mascara and gloss. Looking carefully at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she looked different.
Sipping some water, she urged herself not to be clingy. She’d read about women who conflated losing their virginity with love.
As she fought with herself, Wes’s phone pinged. Picking it up to bring it to him, her heart sank. It was from someone named Raptor.Great work. Forwarded recording of E to tech…The rest of the message needed his password to read.
Wes walked out of the bathroom toweling his hair. “Curly…”
Eleanor handed him his phone. Forcing back the tears, she whispered, “You said I could trust you. I should’ve known. You wanted information.”
He ran toward her. “Ellie, it’s not what you think. Please sit and let me explain,” Wes begged.
She held her hands up to stop him from touching her. “What’s there to explain? You played me.” Her voice shook.
Wes ran his hands through his hair. Audible stress filled his voice. “No, I didn’t play you. I am trying to protect you. There is reason to believe your parents are alive and trying to get to you. And the night before last, a body was left on the south side of the property. We believe it is connected to the deaths and disappearance of many women. Women like you and your sister. I want to help you. Please, Ellie,” he pleaded.
She turned her back on him and walked toward her dresser. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. My life is filled with lies and secrets. I wanted to trust you. No, Ineededto trust you. We need to go back to the Center. You have meetings, and I have a program to run.” She pushed against him and left the room.
* * *
The ride to the Center was chilly. She sat with her arms around herself, trying to process what Wes told her. Whenever she felt uneasy, time with the horses always made her feel better. Today she hoped they’d help her decide— her feelings about Wes Crockett. She wanted to trust him. Was she a pity fuck? Could she believe him? Were her birth parents close? And what to do about the program she had to make work?
Wes pulled up in front of the converted carriage house. At the touch of his hand, she couldn’t pull away.
“Ellie, please, I want to tell you everything. Believe me, I didn’t play you. I wanted you—I still want you. Tonight, let me take you to dinner, and we can talk.”
“It can’t make things worse. I’ll have dinner.” Eleanor stepped from the truck, and not looking back, she headed into the counseling center.
Inside her office, she made a cup of coffee and sat heavily in her chair. She rifled through her purse until she found a bottle of Midol. Popping two caplets, she hoped the combination of acetaminophen with caffeine and the diuretic, pyrilamine maleate, would take away her headache, body aches and growing abdominal cramps.
Eleanor concentrated on her work, carefully reading the charts of the sixteen incoming patients. Writing a list of pertinent information about each client, she was able to assign who she thought was the most appropriate therapist. She’d double up to cover for the two therapists she fired. The last chart belonged to Troy Bremen. She took a deep breath and opened the file.
* * *
