Wyatt (6 page)

Chapter Seven

Wyatt~

I
need to take it real slow. I keep telling myself this over and over, while she’s kissing the hell out of me.

I’m not winning.

There’s a lot I can teach her without us having to have actual sex. I can do patient. I have to be patient.

Hell. This is hard. Everything is hard including my cock.

The last thing I expected to find when I came back with dinner was her wet and well … just about naked. She looks good wet, really good.

I move my hands up her legs and when she doesn’t stop me the muscles in my stomach tighten. She’s really gonna let me touch her?

I pull back to see her face, to make sure and when I see her bambi-browns glazed over my blood takes a dip south.

Hell yeah!

Finally she’s on the same page as me. I slip my hand in under her butt and pick her up, bringing her legs around me. Her breath rushes over my mouth and it’s hot, damn hot. I carry her into the room and ease her slowly down onto the bed. Anything might set her off to panic and that’s the last thing I want right now.

Her lips part and I go in, but this time I take it slow. This is to show her that I see her, want her, taste her.

I kiss her until we’re both breathless and then only do I drop to her neck, nipping at the soft skin at the curve to her collar bone. Her hands start moving down to the hem of my shirt and she surprises me by tugging it up. I let the shirt pass between us and before I can duck back down she goes for the snap of my pants.

I take hold of her hands and my eyes pin hers. She has a torn look in her eyes which doesn’t sit well with me.

“Scarlett,” my voice is way too hoarse to be taken seriously, “we really don’t have to do anythin’.”

“I want to,” she says but her eyes are telling me differently. “There’s nothin’ wrong with this, is there? As long as there’s no intercourse I’m fine.”

I should be picking up something here. One of the facts about her but she pulls her hands from mine and skips unsnapping my pants altogether. Her one hand moves over the tattoo and the other … well, yeah, it dips into my pants and she grips hold of me. I’m the one who’s all stunned for a few seconds. When she goes for the snap of my pants again I don’t stop her because I have no blood left in my brain to think with.

She pushes me over to lie on my back and drags my pants off. I should really be getting all worried about how far she’s going to take it when she stares down at me.

“You’re really beautiful, Wyatt.” I’ve been called many things. Some bad, some good, but never that, and I can see she means it which makes it pretty damn fantastic to hear it coming from her.

I reach up for the knot of the towel and I tug at it, letting it come undone. She lets it fall around her and have to tear my eyes from her breasts to look at her face.

There’s nothing more beautiful than a woman’s body. Scarlett is a work of art.

I touch my fingers to her shoulder and start moving down slowly, caressing her creamy skin. I move down between the dip of her breasts to her ribs and I stop at her abdomen. She has the softest skin I’ve ever felt.

I trail my hand back up and this time I brush over her breast. Her eyelashes lower as her eyes drop from mine and to my body. She moves to lie down next to me, aligning her body with mine and then places her hand on my chest. She fans her fingers out before moving her hand towards my abs but she sidetracks to my tattoo.

“Is it a crow?” she asks. She’s the first to ask. The others normally just find it hot.

“A raven,” I answer.

“Why a raven?” she asks again.

“For my sister. She had a thing for Poe,” I explain and I don’t know where it’s coming from, this easiness to talk to her, especially while we’re both naked.

“Laurie,” she says her name. “I remember her. She and Aiden are twins, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” it’s all I say. Now is not the time for anything else.

“It looks good on you,” she murmurs and then her lips press to my chest.

~*~

Her kisses are hot on my skin and when her hand starts moving down again I roll her over onto her back. If she goes down south it’s over.

I cup the softness of her one breast in my palm and caress it lightly. When she tilts her head back slightly I dip to the base of her neck, kissing a trail down to her other breast. The second I take her in my mouth she moans and the sound does it for me in ways I never thought possible.

I want to map her body with my mouth but first things first. I trail my hand down past her abdomen and I really expect her to start tensing under my touch but she doesn’t. Instead her hands weave into my hair and she grips tiny fist fills, giving me the sign to keep going.

I lift my head and go for her mouth to capture the moan when I slip my hand over her. She moves her hips into my hand and I should really pull back. This is taking it too far.

She must think I’m made of steel because she drops her hands to my hips and she pulls me to her, against her side.

Damn … Fuck.

Her hands slip over my ass and she digs her nails into my skin. My body jerks against hers. “Fuck!” I can’t hold out much longer. I mean, hell, give me a break would you!

“Scarlett,” I growl, “we need to slow down some.” I try to warn her.

I take my hand away from her and she whimpers. If I thought she couldn’t get closer to me, I was wrong – she can and she does.

She pushes me back and straddles me and I just about see sparks.

“Scarlett,” I breathe her name, “I think it’s best we stop now.”

One more inch and there’s no stopping.

She opens her eyes and the look she gives me is one of determination, one of longing.

“Wyatt,” she breathes my name.

~*~

Chapter Eight

Scarlett~

I know I’m screwed up. I know what I said. I know all right!

But I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life before. I’ve never needed another person so much that kissing him made it easier to breathe.

It’s too late now. I’ve crossed the line. I want all of him. I want a piece of Wyatt that I can take with me, to remember him always.

“Wyatt,” I say again, “forget the promise.” He just stares up at me and the seconds tick over. I move my hands up to his face and lean forward. I trail my fingers up his jaw and when my mouth is an inch from his I say it again. “Please, forget the promise.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” he says which contradicts everything that’s happening. His face tells me he wants me. His hard cock is telling me he wants me. Just as much as I want him. “You need it to be more. We need to have that talk first, the us talk.”

I frown at him when he moves from under me and off the bed. Is he for real? Us? There can’t be any us. He’ll be leaving in a few days and I’ll be leaving,
we’ll
be leaving.

“You don’t want someone like me crushin’ on you. I get all needy,” I joke as he takes something from his pants and comes back to lie next to me, pulling me down. 

“Don’t do that,” he says and his arms slip tightly around me, holding me to him. “You can stop hidin’ now, I see you.”

I suck in a breath of air and press my face into the crook of his neck. Why can’t he be the player I called him on? Why does he have to turn out to be nice and I’m the screwed up one wanting to use him?

“Kissin’ you,” I start talking into his neck because it’s easier this way, “it feels like-” I stop so I can think how to word it right. “You know when it’s really hot out and you can’t take full breaths and it feels like the air is hitting into somethin’, but then you get home and once you go inside the air’s all cool and you can take a deep breath, finally just breathe in?” I glance up and his eyes are dark pools of longing, mirrors of my own. “Breathin’ you feels like that and it scares me.”

I shouldn’t have told him. He doesn’t understand that kind of feeling. He doesn’t want it.

“Scarlett,” he brings his hand up to my face and lifts it to his, brushing his mouth along my jaw to my ear. Sparks ignite everywhere. “I’m yours to do with what you want.”

I want him. But I want him in more than just that way. I want all of him. Will he give me all of him just once?

I’m not scared I won’t be good enough.

I’m not scared of what will happen.

I’m scared of how he’ll be afterwards.

“Wyatt…” I start, but I don’t know how to say what I feel. How do I tell him I want him to make love to me, not worthless sex. I want this to mean something.

“You take what you need,” he whispers into my ear and the words settle deep down again. It feels like he’s seeing all of me, hearing me.

“I need it to mean somethin’,” I whisper and I pull back to face him.

“Didn’t I promise you not to have sex with you?” he asks and the air thickens, making it harder to breathe. “I never break a promise, Scarlett.” He rolls me back over and his eyes roam over my face before locking on mine. “Make love to me,” he whispers.

~*~

I pull him down to me and breathe him in before his mouth takes mine. I let my hands explore his chest and his abdomen before moving to his back. He is solid beneath my fingertips, his muscles tightening where I touch him.

When he pulls back I dig my nails into him but he doesn’t come back, instead he positions his one hand next to my head, not touching me.

“You didn’t answer me. I need an answer,” he says, sounding more in control than I feel.

“I thought it was pretty obvious,” I retort, but he doesn’t move. “Yes,” I eventually breathe the word, feeling pretty self-conscious, “make love to me.”

He smiles and the birds and bees go into full spring swing.

The thing he got from his pants … yeah … uhm … a condom. The wrapper hits the floor a second later and then I reach for him again, the need to have him is overwhelming.

He places his hand on my hip. His fingers press lightly into my skin and his mouth settles against my forehead. The moment he starts to trail light kisses down the side of my face he also moves his hand right over my abdomen and down – and he takes hold of me again, sending a wave of pleasure through my insides. Shamelessly, my hips lift as I search for more friction.

He slips his finger into me, and again my hips move to meet him. I bring my arms up and wrap them tightly around his neck. I’m about to duck my face into his chest when his mouth catches mine and I breathe him in again. He caresses me softly, building a frenzy of maddening feelings in my abdomen.

“Wyatt,” I moan his name. It’s the only word my brain can come up with.

“Yes, Babe,” he breathes against my mouth and I’m about to just die in his hands.

“Please,” I whimper, trying to make him understand what I want. I need him to release me from the intense maddening feeling building relentlessly inside of me.

He moves over me and there’s no feeling of awkwardness, only want. I want him. I’ve wanted him for so long. I’ve built all my silly dreams around him and now he’s finally here.

I feel him position his cock against my opening and then he pushes a few inches into me. My body tenses with the first feelings of discomfort. I tighten my hold on him as he pushes in a few more inches. There’s a sharp pain and I wince. He starts to lift himself away from me and I cling even tighter to keep his body against mine.

“No,” I breathe through the feeling of discomfort, “please, Wyatt.”

His hands move to my hips and his fingers dig in deep before he moves in fast. I gasp at the painful sensation, and before I can take my next breath his mouth finds mine again. His breath rushes into me and I take it from him, hungrily. I love breathing him in. I love feeling him in me. I’ve never felt so connected to another person before. For a blissful moment I feel complete, whole … as if I belong.

This is as close as I’ll ever get to him. This is as close as I’ll ever let anyone get to me. I savor the moment.

~*~

Wyatt starts to pull out and then he thrusts into me again. The discomfort is still there but after a few more thrusts it changes into a bone numbing pleasure. I’ve never felt anything like this before.

All I can do is cling to him while he makes love to my body. His breaths are as fast as mine. Soon he starts to speed up, and his thrusts get harder and deeper, hitting just the right spot. I can’t keep from moaning with pleasure. “Wyatt,” I whisper his name. I let all I’ve ever felt for him wash over me. All the years I’ve dreamt about him.

“Scar,” he whispers against my lips and I let myself believe that he feels the same way about me.

He brings me to the point where the maddening frenzy explodes and the world zooms to a complete stand still … and it’s only us and the waves of pleasure.

He pulls away when the wave of pleasure fades and the moment is instantly gone.

This is it. The part I fear. We’ve crossed the line and now things will just be uncomfortable. “You’re going to be just fine,” I whisper to myself. “It was never meant to be anything more than sex.”

Without looking at Wyatt, I grab my nighties and shoot to the bathroom so I can get dressed and put up some kind of wall. I need some kind of defense system. I avoid looking in the mirror and making eye contact with myself.

When I come out of the bathroom, I walk straight into Wyatt. His arms fold around me and he pulls me to his chest. I stand stunned as his mouth comes down on mine. It’s not what I expected. I actually expected him to be gone.

He pulls his mouth from mine, only an inch. “I’m not good with words,” he starts and the last thing I want to hear is it was great but it’s over. I place my fingers against his mouth to silence him.

“Food. I need to eat.” I need to get back to my normal routine of doing things. The sooner he leaves the sooner I can hit the road and go start my life.

He smiles and I drop my hand. He’s only wearing his jeans and it distresses me some that I still find him so damn hot. Shouldn’t I be over this now? I had him. It’s done with!

I put on a movie so we don’t have to try and talk while eating. He got us Chinese which I warm up before we get comfortable on the couch.

I don’t take in anything of the movie while we eat. I feel his eyes on me … all the time. He’s watching me, not the movie.

What’s wrong with me? If he had just walked out I would’ve been upset.

Now he’s sitting here and eating with me, and I’m confused?

What the hell do I want?

~*~

There are no dishes to wash up when we’re done eating. There’s nothing to do to keep myself busy with, so you can imagine my extreme relief when he places his arms around me from behind and he pulls me tightly against his chest.

“I’m just gonna run to my place to shower. I’ll be back in a few seconds.” He sounds relaxed, sleepy even.

“Sure,” I say, trying to sound just as relaxed.

I even manage to turn around in his arms. I frame his face with my hands and press my mouth to his, pressing my mouth to his for a long moment. I breathe in a deep breath, savoring the smell of him. I let my hands move into his soft hair and try to imprint the feel of him into the deepest parts of my memory.

“Thank you, Wyatt,” I whisper against his mouth. “Thank you for this memory.”

He hugs me to him for a moment longer before I pull back. I’m going to lose the guts to go.

“See you in a few,” he smiles and I stand still. I watch him slip out the door. Only when he walks over to his deck do I go to lock the door.

And then I run.

I drag on jeans and a shirt, my leather jacket and boots. I grab my bag and then shove a bottle of OJ and my meds into it. I sling the bag over my back and then glance through the place one more time, and then I leave.

I kick off the stand on my bike and push it up the road so he won’t hear it. When I’m a safe distance away I get on and start it. The rumble is loud and then I ride south, to my mom’s hometown where Morgan is waiting for me. By morning I’ll be in my new town, my new apartment, my new job, my new world that awaits me … a world without Wyatt.

I had three days with him.

It’s those memories that keep me company on the road to Lyman. The town is quiet and dark and so is the apartment when I finally reach it just before dawn. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.

I’ve only been here a couple of times when I came to visit Morgan. The newness of the town is appealing. We moved around a lot while I grew up, with Daddy being in sales.

Maybe I can stay here a while, make this home.

~*~

It’s always fun decorating a place as your own. Setting out the photos of Momma and Daddy. Unpacking the boxes I left with Morgan. I’m so thankful for her. She arranged all of this for me. She wanted me closer to her after Daddy died.

I have a lot of washing to do. And cleaning. Anything to keep my mind from wandering to Wyatt. He’s a no go zone.

The clothes I wore down at the coast are what I always leave there. I can’t travel with a bag of clothes on my bike so I decided to buy those few items for Ocean Isle. It belongs to both Morgan and me after Daddy died.

Time flies when you have a lot to get ready for your first day of work. But every third second I find my thoughts filled with Wyatt. His touch. His smile. His taste. The way it felt to have him inside of me. It’s a haunting loop I can’t get rid of.

On my last day off I do my nails, eyebrows, hair - the works. I want to make a good first impression. I’ll have to phone Morgan tomorrow, because she knows I’m starting at my new job. Maybe we can do drinks after work.

Come the first day of work, I’m ready. I dress in smart black pants, a black button up long sleeve with a gray short sleeve pullover. It has buttons up the one shoulder which I leave undone to show the black shirt beneath. The collar of the pullover falls open to the side of my shoulder, which I like. I wear black boots and roll my hair into a neat twist before pinning it with a butterfly clip. With some make up, I’m all set for work.

Now I only have to impress the entire police force of Lyman. The lady I’m taking over from as Human Resources Specialist has been working there for over forty years. She’s practically part of the furniture. It’s going to be hard to fit into their little circle.

I park my bike by the entrance of the police offices and I’m careful when I take the helmet off, not to take the butterfly clip with. I can feel eyes on me. It’s not every day they must see a woman drive in on a bike to work, especially on a bike like mine. It was Dad’s. Dad was a Ducati fanatic and so this baby came to me.

As I reach for the door it swings open and a man steps out. The light brown hair and gray eyes are unmistakable. My mouth dries right out. “Aiden Holden?”

Oh no! Just my luck to run into Wyatt’s brother!

“Scarlett Grayson? Little Scarlett?” he asks and he smiles the smile that reminds me of Wyatt.

I can’t move. This is too surreal.