Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

“Stop laughing!” I scold him. “I have holes in my shoes!”

He picks me up and I scream in surprise. He makes me wrap my legs around his hips. “Hold on, sweet siren of mine.”

I wrap my arms around his neck as he takes off down the streets, wading into the puddles so I don’t have to. He’s holding my ass with one hand and the other is wrapped around me, holding me tightly against him. I bury my nose into his neck, inhaling. I smell him, his cologne, and the bar. I get a funny urge to lick his skin just to see what he tastes like.

As miserable as it is – as it sounds – I wouldn’t be anywhere else. There’s a fervent urgency in his hold of me. He wants me against him, and he grips me like it isn’t close enough still.

I see his parked car. He’s stopped running and his chest is moving fast as we walks over. He pulls back to look at me, and I pull back too. We stare at each other, and all I can think about in that moment is his soft admission. I like you, Ivy Montcalm. His breaths come out of him harder as his gaze roams my face. My heart starts to beat harder. He squeezes me closer. I let my forehead fall to his.

“Ivy…” he whispers passionately, sending flutters everywhere through my body. “I want to consume you. Breathe you in. I want you everywhere, Ivy…”

He walks, not stopping. He passes his car and steps off the sidewalk. The rain stops hitting us. I look up at the tree he’s sheltered us in. He doesn’t stop moving until my back is against the tree trunk. I feel it against my back and shiver, but not from the cold.

“Just want a touch, Ivy…” he continues to whisper. “Just want to touch you, temptress.”

His hands are everywhere. Running down my arms, my thighs, my ass, my spine. He brings them up and cradles my face, looking at me, bumping his nose against mine, lightly brushing his lips against mine but not kissing me. He just watches me, holding me. I think he’s waiting for me to give in.

I bring my hand up and run my fingers down the side of his face. His eyes flutter shut, as if he’s savoring my touch. I want to take his ache away. He’s been hurting for my touch, and it’s been no different for me.

I press my lips against his, lightly kissing him. He opens his mouth, accepting my kiss, and then he’s pressing me against the tree, every inch of him glued to every part of me. My legs tighten around him. Sparks shoot up my belly, warming me. I pant against his mouth, waiting for him to kiss me. To really kiss me. But he’s not moving his lips. His eyes are shut, his brows are pinched together.

I know he wants this. His desire is palpable. It’s all around us. I can feel him hardening between my legs. I shiver at the feeling. My lips tremble and he feels it. He opens his eyes slowly, staring into me.

“Aidan,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb against his cheek, begging for a response.

He pulls away, glimpsing at my mouth. The hunger grows. His eyelids grow heavy and his hand is squeezing my thigh. Kiss me, Mr West, kiss the fuck out of me.

Then, very slowly, he lets me go. I slide down his body, feeling every inch of me rub against the length of him. He plants me on my feet and steps back.

I’m cold straight away. Cold from the weather. Colder from his rejection. Yet it burns to part from him. It’s so bizarre, the contrast of it. He moves toward the car, getting out from under the shelter of the tree. I follow, dizzy, confused, trying to catch up to the sudden flip.

Just before he gets to the car, he spins back around and faces me. I freeze at the look of him. He’s still panting. Still…hurting. My lips part and I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what just happened.

The rain is coming down in sheets. He’s taking the full brunt of it, yet he appears unbothered by it. He’s just looking at me.

“Have you fucked him?”

His question is a shot to my chest. I’m stunned.

“What?” I whisper.

“Have you fucked your husband, Ivy?” he asks again, his tone hard. “I need to know. I just need to know if you’ve fucked him.”

“Why are you asking this?” I retort. It’s come out of nowhere.

“I need to know if you’ve fucked him since we’ve been talking. That’s it. I just need to know, Ivy. I’m sick of wondering, sick of picturing you with another man. Sick of laying in bed at night and thinking you're being touched in that exact moment. Please…” He looks tormented, his chest moving faster. “Tell me.”

“You’re asking a personal question.”

“I know.”

“I don’t have to answer.”

“You don’t.”

I waver, staring back at him. My chest is tearing apart. That lava he was describing before is running through my veins. We’ve both been wondering the same things.

I grit my teeth. “Have you fucked anyone?” I return, balling my hands to stop them from shaking.

He nods slowly. “Yes.” My face falls when he quickly adds, “Let me explain.”

I blink back tears, feeling gutted. “You don’t need to. I told you before it’s none of my business –”

“That’s bullshit,” he bites back, his expression stern now.

I look away, and he comes to me. I shake my head. “No, please don’t come closer –”

“It was before we talked, before I reached out to you,” he cuts in quickly, sounding desperate. “I only went after her because she looked like you. I needed her to look like you. It felt wooden and wrong. Then I thought of your face. I thought of the red strands in your hair. I thought of your lips. I came