Chapter 11
Wyatt
The drive from Hibiscus Harbor to my house takes fifteen minutes, but it feels longer and yet shorter at the same time. Merri's quiet as she stares out the window at the palm trees drifting by, and I'm acutely aware of her hand still in mine.
I can't believe I just invited her to my house or that she said yes.
When we pull into the driveway, Merri lets out a soft sound of appreciation.
The fact that I care what she thinks about my house hits me like a freight train.
And why the hell does having Merri Gallagher here feel more terrifying than jumping out of planes?
I cut the engine, suddenly hyperaware of every chipped paint flake and unfinished project.
"It needs work. The porch needs repainting, and there's some water damage in the attic I'm dealing with. "
"It's still gorgeous." She's already out of the truck, heading toward the wraparound porch. "Oh my God, you have an amazing view of the Intracoastal Waterway from here!"
I follow her slowly, watching as she takes in the view. It is breathtaking with the water glinting in the moonlight, the lights from boats drifting by, and the sound of the waves in the distance.
"My grandmother used to sit out here every morning with her coffee and watch the sunrise," I offer as I rub the back of my neck.
"That sounds perfect." Merri turns to me, her eyes soft and pretty. "I'm glad you have this place. It suits you."
"Come on. I'll show you inside." I unlock the front door and lead her into the foyer. The house is clean, but it's still clearly a work in progress. Some rooms are fully renovated, others are waiting for my attention.
She makes soft sounds of wonder, little gasps and breathy sighs as she takes in the woodwork. "This is incredible." Merri runs her hand along the mantel. "Look at this detail. They don't make houses like this anymore."
"No, they don't." I watch her wander through the space, and my chest does a flip at how right she looks here.
She pauses at the brown leather recliner positioned in front of my massive TV and grins. "You are such a guy."
"Hey, that recliner is comfortable. And functional."
"I'm sure it is." She turns to me. "How do you keep this place so clean? There's not a speck of dust anywhere."
"Marine Corps training is drilled into my DNA. You can't just turn it off."
"Apparently not." She peers at me through her lashes, her mouth curved in a coy smile. "Would you mind if I had that glass of wine you mentioned?"
"Not at all. I hope red is okay."
"That’s perfect."
I head to the kitchen and pour us each a glass of a Cabernet I've been saving. When I come back, Merri's settled on the couch, her shoes off, looking completely at home in my living room. My breath catches for a half second.
I hand her the glass and sit next to her. We make a toast and drink, and then somehow we're cataloguing all the pranks we’ve pulled over the years.
"Remember when you filled my toolbox with sand?" I ask.
"That was payback for the fake parking ticket you left on my car."
"Which was payback for you signing me up for square dancing in gym class."
"Which was payback for…" She stops, laughing. "Okay, I've lost track. We've been at this for so long."
"Too long." I take another sip of wine. "To be honest, I'm glad we're moving past it. It’s time."
She nods slowly, studying me over the rim of her glass. "Thanks for picking Hibiscus Harbor tonight. It was a good idea to get away from Pelican Point's fishbowl."
"I figured we deserved one night where the entire town wasn't watching our every move."
"They're invested now," Merri answers. "They want to see what happens with us, if we'll keep getting along or go back to our old ways after the competition is over."
"And what do you want?" The question comes out before I can stop it.
She sets down her wineglass, her expression turning serious. "I want to see what happens. I'm interested in finding out."
My heart kicks up. "Yeah?"
"Mmmhmm." She looks almost shy as her teeth catch at her bottom lip. "I can’t stop thinking about you since the cold storage room. It feels like everything has shifted, and I can't go back to seeing you as just my nemesis anymore."
That's it, all the permission I need.
I set my glass down and tug her toward me. "Good. Because I haven't been able to get you out of my head either."
Our mouths meet, slow and searching. She tastes like wine and heat, and I want to consume her.
She sinks into me with a sigh, her hands moving up to circle my neck and draw me in.
It's that little sound she makes, a half gasp, half plea that breaks my restraint.
That sound bypasses every rational thought I have left and goes straight to my cock.
I drag her into my lap, fingers sinking into her hair.
We break apart for air, both breathing hard, staring at each other in shock. Her pupils are blown wide, lips swollen from my mouth, and I know we just crossed a line we can't uncross.
"Wyatt," she whispers.
The way she says my name, breathless and wanting, makes my pulse hammer.
"Tell me to stop," I beg against her mouth. "Tell me this is a bad idea, and I'll stop."
Instead, she kisses me again, harder this time, and any remaining restraint I had dissolves completely. Screw good ideas. This is Merri in my arms, and nothing else matters. I stand, lifting her with me, and she wraps her legs around my waist, her dress riding up her thighs.
"Bedroom," she says. "Show me your bedroom."
I don't need to be told twice.
I carry her upstairs, my hands cupping her ass and lifting her easily, my mouth devouring hers the entire way, only breaking apart long enough to navigate the hallway to my room. We fall onto the bed, and she's already tugging at my shirt while I work the zipper on her dress.
And when I finally have her beneath me, skin against skin, staring up at me with those sweet green eyes full of want and trust, I know I'm completely gone.
Her skin is warm beneath my palms as I trace the curve of her waist, learning the softness of her. Merri's breath quickens, her fingers threading through my hair as she draws me down for another kiss. This one is urgent, deeper, like we can't get enough.
Her skin is warm beneath my palms as I trace the curve of her waist, learning the softness of her. This is Merri Gallagher in my bed. After years of antagonism, I get to touch her like this.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur, peppering kisses down her throat. "I've wanted to tell you that for weeks." I drag my teeth across her collarbone and groan as her nails dig into my back. Every point of contact between us feels electric.
I work my way down her body, hands and mouth discovering every inch of her, taking one rosy nipple between my lips while my fingers tease the other.
She arches into me with a sharp inhale, and I lavish attention on her breasts, sucking and licking until she's writhing beneath me, her thighs pressing together.
The way she moves under me, the sounds she makes—I want to memorize every detail.
When I trail kisses down the smooth expanse of her stomach, she arches with another sharp inhale that sends heat straight through me. I've imagined this more times than I'll ever admit, but nothing prepared me for the reality of her.
"Wyatt," she breathes, her fingers tightening in my hair as I settle between her thighs. "God, yes."
I part her with my thumbs, exposing her glistening sex.
Christ, she's gorgeous. The first taste of her makes my vision blur.
She's sweet and slick against my tongue as I lap at her entrance before circling her swollen clit.
Her hips buck when I suck that sensitive bud into my mouth, and the desperate, needy whimpers she makes send my blood pounding south.
I want to hear her make those sounds for the rest of my life.
"Please," she manages, her thighs trembling as I work her higher. "Wyatt, I'm so close."
I slide two fingers inside, curling them to find that spot that makes her cry out, and continue the relentless attention of my mouth. She's already tightening around me, and I know I won’t last long. Her inner walls clench as she shatters, crying out my name as her orgasm rolls through her.
I move back up, taking my time. She pulls me into a deep kiss, her hands roaming over my chest and shoulders with hungry exploration. When she wraps her fingers around my hard length, stroking from base to tip with deliberate pressure, I nearly come apart.
Focus. Don't blow this now.
"Merri," I groan against her neck. I need to be inside her before I embarrass myself. "You’re killing me."
"Good," she whispers, her voice full of wicked satisfaction as her thumb sweeps over the head of my cock, spreading the bead of moisture she finds there.
I reach for the nightstand, grateful I'd thought to buy condoms last week. She watches me with half-lidded eyes as I tear the packet open and roll it down my length. Then she's pulling me back down, kissing me like she's starving.
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her slick heat.
When I finally push into her, we both freeze, our foreheads pressed together.
Nothing has ever felt this good. Nothing.
She's so tight and hot around me, her inner muscles gripping me as I slowly sink deeper, inch by inch.
"Are you okay?" I manage, my voice strained.
"Better than okay." She lifts her hips, taking me deeper, and we both groan. "Please, Wyatt. I need you to move."
I pull back and thrust, establishing a rhythm that has us both panting.
She wraps her legs around my waist, changing the angle, and suddenly I'm hitting even deeper.
I'm not going to last. Not when she feels like this.
Her nails claw down my back, her mouth hot against my neck as she urges me on with broken pleas and my name repeated like a prayer.