He was sick, tired, and unprepared. He was a pro when it came to persuing and conquering, not being launched at. "Had a few years o' practice," Wes breathed, unable to say anything else right now. Frankie was a great kisser, and her scent was one of freshness and vibrance that ignited Wesley's passions. Her lips were made for kissing and he finally grinned. "What's your excuse?"