Wes Bergman was sex on a stick.
We’d been circling one another our entire lives, mingling at the same clubs… attending the same events…sharing mutual acquaintances…yet we’d never actually met.
Until . . . we both boarded a Windjammer Cruise in the Caribbean. And it was like meeting my long, lost best friend for the first time. I hadn’t ever connected with a guy that way before.
But Wes had a girlfriend. So, when the week was over, he walked off the ship, unknowingly taking a piece of my heart with him.
Now, over a decade later, newly divorced, I’m the proverbial fish out of water. Dating has totally changed. Apps. Swipe left. Swipe right. Catfishing. Men my age want two things: twenty-five-year-olds—like my ex’s new child bride of a wife—or just a quick hook-up.
After a string of bad dates, I finally did something I never thought I’d do. I had a hot one-night stand with a really handsome guy I met online who didn’t even know my real name.
Turned out Mr. Fling is a big shot for my company’s newest client. And just my
luck, that client’s CEO is none other than . . . Wes Bergman.
Now I’m separated by one degree again from the man who stole my heart.
And Mr. Fling could destroy my chance of what I want most –
A Do-Over with Wes.
His hand slowly stroking up and down the outside of my thigh is what roused me from my dream state. It was so soft and tender that I was getting more and more turned on with every movement. With my eyes still closed, I enjoyed the sensation. It wasn’t until his lips started brushing my shoulder, that I was unable to stifle a moan, revealing that I was awake.
“Good morning,” his whisper was hoarse.
“Mmm, good morning.” I stretched my body against his and turned my head to see his face hovering over mine, before our lips met.
“Surprisingly, I did. I was so exhausted. Sorry for passing out on you last night,” I apologized.
“I think we both passed out the moment our heads hit the pillows.” Wes’ hand had migrated from my thigh to my stomach, where he softly drew circles with his fingertips.
Rolling over to face him, I pushed my hair out of the way, silently praying my humidity enhanced curls didn’t make me look like a deranged housewife, scaring the erection right out of the man. Slinging a leg over his thigh, I instantly got my answer. The crazy morning coif was not a cock killer. Thank God!
“You’re a morning person, I see.” Hiding my smile was not a possibility.
“Yeah, I am,” Wes laughed, moving closer to me, his eyes filled with the unmistakable desire to become lovers, something I’d dreamed about on the deck of a windjammer long ago.
“You can wake me up like this anytime.” I needed to let him know it was okay. He’d said he’d take it as slow as I wanted it and what I wanted right now was a slow rhythm of him plowing into me. Hard.
“Are you hard to wake up?” He was pressed up against me.
“I think you’ll figure out the secrets to rousing me.”
“You’ve already figured out the secrets to arousing me.” His voice still had that sexy edge of morning roughness to it, making me want to skip all foreplay and have him inside me.
“I’ll bet you have a few more secrets I can discover,” I said against his lips, as I shifted the leg I had slung over him, pressing my heat and wetness against his already throbbing cock.
Wes groaned and I could feel his smile against my lips. “You know you’re going to make it impossible to make slow, sweet love to you.”
“Good, because I don’t want it slow and sweet.”
Wes flipped me onto my back, “I can easily accommodate your wishes. Are you on anything or do I need to…”
“We’re good,” I assured him.
“Yes, we are.” He kissed my neck, then swiftly pulled my tank top over my head tossing it to the floor. “We’re going to be really good together. Of that, I have no doubt.”
And I knew he was right. Being with this man had been so perfect from the night we met. We meshed with ease and the result was pure joy.
The warmth in his eyes and smile made my breath catch, and in that moment, I was flooded with overwhelming emotion at how much I wanted him. How much I’d always wanted him. It was more than lust, beyond the heat of the moment. Wes Bergman was the man I had always wanted, from the night we met. That was clear to me now.
“I vote we skip the foreplay.” I wriggled out of my underwear.
“You’re on.” His smile told me he was taking on the challenge.
“You’re in,” I gasped, my breath catching in my throat, surprised at the swiftness with which he filled my request.
USA Today Bestselling author Julie A. Richman is a native New Yorker living deep in the heart of Texas. A creative writing major in college, reading and writing fiction has always been a passion. Julie began her corporate career in publishing in NYC and writing played a major role throughout her career as she created and wrote marketing, advertising, direct mail and fundraising materials for Fortune 500 corporations, advertising agencies and non-profit organizations. She is an award winning nature photographer plagued with insatiable wanderlust. Julie and her husband have one son and a white German Shepherd named Juneau.