Chapter 17
Bryn
“Fuck,” he breathes against my neck.
He can say that again. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sated from an orgasm I didn’t give myself.
Wyatt groans, and repeats, “Fuck.”
The tone has my head turning, not much because his is right there, preventing my movement, but enough that my lips press into his hair. All day I’ve missed the cowboy hat he normally wears, but it has been easier to kiss him without it getting in our way.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my stomach twisting, and not in the tantalizing way it was moments ago.
“Made a mess. Big mess.”
The heat roars to life in my cheeks. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I… that… I…”
His head snaps up, nearly taking my nose with it. I jerk sideways just in time to prevent someone from needing to set it later, and meet his round eyes filled with horror.
“No! No, baby, not you.” Wyatt shakes his head vehemently. “Me. I… uh, might have… embarrassed the hell out of myself just now. Again. Fuck.”
A crease forms between my brows as I angle my shoulders toward him. “What? Why? That was hot. Incredible, honestly. I didn’t think I could do that twice in a row like that, but—”
“Twice?” If possible, his eyes bulge further.
Self-consciousness creeps in, embarrassment burning a hole through my chest. “When you bit me, you just kept going and I… I couldn’t help it, and I—”
Lips crash into mine, abruptly ending my words, and I gasp into his fierce kiss.
It feels like a claiming, even more than him getting me off on a public beach, and I’m helpless to it.
His hands are still between my legs, but I reach up and grab his face, the embarrassment dissolving away as I dissolve into him.
His lips roam over mine, taking what he wants while giving what I need, the force of the kiss breathing life between us while the fireworks reach a crescendo above.
They don’t compare to the million sparks going off inside me. My stomach, my brain, my heart. They’re full of colorful brilliance as Wyatt kisses me until I’m breathless.
Until there’s complete silence from above and only the sound of waves crashing into the shore remain.
That’s when he slowly breaks the kiss, dropping a few more against my lips before his forehead presses to mine, giving us both a moment to pant.
“Three dates,” he mutters, and I’m not sure if it’s for my benefit or if he’s reminding himself, but it makes me chuckle.
“Three dates,” I repeat because I have no other compelling argument to keep up with this three-date rule besides his gentlemanly behavior. I’m ready to take him home and put his cowboy hat on.
Wyatt eases back, pulling one of his hands out from beneath the blanket.
He holds his middle finger to my lips and I slide my tongue over the tip, tasting myself while holding his gaze.
His eyelids flutter, and I know he’s thinking about my lips wrapped around his cock, something I’d be more than happy to do, as I suck his finger into my mouth.
“Three dates.” This time I know he’s stressing it to himself.
The heat of his other hand is lost from between my legs then, and as he pulls his finger from my lips, he sticks his middle and ring finger from his other hand into my mouth.
His eyes, still hooded, drop another fraction of an inch, and it has my stomach swooping at the pleasure he’s deriving from sucking my orgasm from his fingers.
“Two,” he mumbles when he’s finished, like he’s awestruck by the thought. “I want every fucking mess you want to give me, beautiful.”
That reminds the embarrassment I was feeling to roar back to life, and I’m grateful for the half-moon in the sky that probably hides some of the color in my cheeks. “What did you mean about the big mess?”
Wyatt’s mouth pulls down. It’s not a frown, though. His eyes are lit up with amusement. It’s more like an upside-down smile, and it makes me want to laugh. He looks so sheepish.
“Remember what happened earlier?” he asks, scratching at a spot on the top of his head.
I know what he’s referring to, but cheekily I respond, “I gave you a massage?”
He opens his mouth, probably to correct me, but then must see the teasing glint in my eye. It makes the upside-down smile even out a little. “And then what happened?”
“A natural reaction.”
Laughing, he slides one arm around me while the other disappears from my sight. I can feel it near my hip a second later. “So was what happened just now.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, yeah, I could feel it. Why is that a mes—oh!” Realization dawns. “Oh!” Shifting in my spot so I can angle towards him better without moving from between his legs, my eyes widen as I look down. Not that I can see anything past his chest. “Oh.”
“Your constant little ‘ohs’ might one day kill me,” he says while adjusting himself. “We’re going to need to get up before your dress gets any messier than it is.”
I’m not sure if he means from me or him, but we get everything packed up and head back to the truck.
When we’re both inside and he’s starting it up, I slide into the middle of old Betty’s bench seat.
At first he seems surprised by the move, but the grin that spreads across his face a moment later makes him look so handsome in a boyish way, I know he’s delighted.
“Couldn’t stand to be that far away?” he asks, putting the truck into reverse as I put my seatbelt on.
“Coulda but didn’t want to be.”
When he’s on the deserted street, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of my head. “I like that answer.”
The drive is relatively short. I tell him a back way to my place that avoids the traffic leaving the boardwalk after the fireworks.
When he pulls into the drive, stopping just before the gate, I’m not ready to say goodnight to him.
We’ve spent the majority of the day together, and it doesn’t feel like enough.
Not when I already know we won’t be going on another date until next week. If he asks me.
Which I’m certain he will.
After he puts the truck in gear, I reach over and turn it off, leaving the key in the ignition.
He meets my steady gaze, a question in his own, and I bring my hand to his chest, sliding it up his neck to his face.
It’s smooth, not a hint of stubble along his jaw as my thumb runs along it.
He must have shaved between the river and when he picked me up for our date.
Butterflies flutter in my belly, my voice barely above a whisper as I ask, “Come inside for a while?”
“Three dates.” He doesn’t sound as resolute as he once did, and again, I wonder who he’s trying to convince.
“I’m not asking you to come in and fuck me, Wyatt.” Even though the next part feels vulnerable, I take a deep breath. “I’m asking you to come inside and hang out because I don’t want today to be over yet.”
For a second, he’s as serious as he was the night at 10-42, and I wonder if he’s weighing whether or not he can stick to his three-date rule if he comes inside. He must decide he can, because a moment later, the corners of his mouth kick up, and he nods.
“’Spose that means the second date was successful, and I’ll get a third?” There’s a hint of laughter in his tone.
I shrug. “You’ll have to properly ask me and find out.”
He twists, an arm wrapping around my middle to haul me closer while he cradles my head in his other hand.
I lean into his touch, my eyes half closing, anticipating his kiss before it happens.
His lips are soft and sweet against mine, unlike the kiss after the fireworks.
This isn’t urgent, but rather exploratory, like he’s learning every possible way I might react to him, good or bad.
Jokes on him, though, because I’ve loved every single kiss. Every touch. Every breath we’ve shared.
Finally, he eases back, leaving my head spinning. When my eyes part, his look just as clouded as I feel.
“If I come in, do we get to do that some more?” he wonders quietly.
“I hope so.”
A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he nods. “Alright, but is your nosy neighbor going to be okay with it?”
Not once did I see his eyes leave mine, but when I glance towards the house, sure enough, Gran is standing in the window. When she sees me looking, she drops the curtain, and I shake my head, unable to help my laughter.
“I think she’d be thrilled.”
Because she would be. I almost tell him right then who she is, but he presses his lips to mine, grabs his keys, and then slides out of the truck, holding his hand out for me to take.
I smile, take the offer, and he reaches in and scoops me around the waist, pulling me out of the truck and into his arms.
“Make out session, here we come,” he mumbles as he claims my mouth again.
And all thoughts of Gran disappear, replaced with Wyatt. Thoughts of his strong arms, hard body, and soft lips.
A girl could get used to this.