Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Rory
Tonight was going to kill me.
I normally wasn’t the possessive type, but Wyatt was a fucking treasure, and the guys here were thirstier than normal. At least, that was how it felt. It could just be that they saw the grade A hottie or sensed the curious energy and swarmed. The curious energy would be the death of me, though.
I chugged the remnants of my beer. Already, the DJ had started playing a heavy techno beat, and guys didn’t hesitate to slip onto the floor to dance.
Unlike the bigger dance clubs, this place was more intimate, which meant it was easier to find someone to go home with—or the bathroom, I wasn’t picky.
Except tonight, the only person I wanted to spend time with was Wyatt.
If guys could stop approaching him for five fucking seconds.
Irritation roiled through my veins as he smiled at yet another asshole who’d come over to offer to buy him a drink, this one closer to my age. Maybe if I sat in his lap, they’d catch the fucking drift. Though honestly, they wouldn’t unless my tongue was down his throat.
Which, fuck, if only.
Wyatt had finished his drink, a slight bit of foam clinging to his upper lip, and I didn’t hesitate. I reached over and swiped at it with my thumb. The moment we connected, electricity raced up my spine. His gaze landed on me, those dark eyes so intense I could drown in his expression.
“You had some foam there,” I explained, even though I took my time pulling my hand away.
Damn, I wanted to climb into his lap so badly.
Who gave a fuck that he was still healing up?
I’d kill for a makeout session at this point, just to take the edge off the intense lust roiling through me right now.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice low and throaty. Ngh. God, I could only imagine what he sounded like when he fucked. He seemed so chill and level most of the time, but I bet he fucked like a beast. And hell, with that new piercing? My cock was stiffening, and I shifted in my seat.
“How’s the club experience for you so far?” I asked.
“Well, I doubt I’d get hit on this much at a regular club. I have to say, it’s kind of nice being pursued for once,” he admitted. “But so far it feels like a bar night, which is a bit more familiar territory.”
If he was straight, I’d eat my favorite hat. I chewed on my lip, biting back the dozens of questions I had on his sexuality.
“Want to try out the dancing part?” I asked, half rising from my seat. With the beats pumping, I needed to move.
To my relief, Wyatt stood as well. He pushed the stool back into place, and it let out a squeak.
I had the feeling if I’d left him here to go dance, someone would’ve swooped in and snatched him up.
Even if he claimed to be straight, he was curious enough to be looking around at all these guys, and it was obvious he enjoyed the attention.
The man hadn’t gotten enough of it for so long, since he’d been raising Harper.
Guilt flickered through me. I needed to drop some casual hints that I found her dad hot to test the waters there. Casual, like your dad’s a stone-cold fox, and I want him to fuck me.
“Just a forewarning, but I’m a shit dancer,” Wyatt said as we approached the dance floor. At least a dozen guys had started their bump-and-grind journey, and good for them.
I glanced back at Wyatt. “Babe, you don’t need to have rhythm to dance. Stand there and look pretty, and I’ll handle the rest.”
If it meant I got to run my hands up and down his body, all the better.
Plus, if I was dancing all over him, that meant it’d be easier to fend off these other guys.
My chest heated, which was new for me. Jealousy wasn’t something I experienced when it came to guys; I had no sense of competition in that field.
Getting laid wasn’t difficult for me, and I wasn’t looking for anything long term, so as long as they were hot and hung I was good.
Yet with Wyatt I wanted to plaster myself all over him and shout, “Mine.”
Clearly I needed to get fucked, hard, as this fruitless crush on Harper’s dad was messing with my head.
But for now I’d show him a good time on the dance floor.
I found an open spot, and Wyatt stepped up beside me. “You okay with getting up close and personal?”
He swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah, I am.”
Well, that was a green light if I’d ever gotten one.
The beat was thumping hard, and even though this dance floor was only a fraction of the size of the ones at the bigger clubs, people were already taking advantage of the space.
The makeshift strobe lights pulsed, and the DJ was playing some Europop that I loved.
Really, I was a fan of most music, anything that had a beat to move to, and this worked so damn well for me.
Wyatt stood beside me, his shoulders locked up.
Discomfort was written all over his features, but I had the feeling it had more to do with the lack of dancing ability, since he hadn’t blinked twice at a dozen different guys offering to buy him a drink.
I stepped up to him and rested my arms on his shoulders, not hesitating to get into his space.
Fuck, he smelled good. Like cedar and spice and musk, and I drank in a deep inhale of it.
A few strands of his dark hair had slipped across his forehead, and between that, his trimmed beard, and his dark, intense eyes, I was enamored.
Not to mention those shoulders encased in a Henley, ngh.
His black jeans showed off his thick thighs, and the way his shirt clung to him showcased the arm muscles I wanted to sink my teeth into.
I had a very vivid memory of what he’d looked like naked, as the time in the gym locker room was forever imprinted on my brain.
Our eyes met, and he let out a shaky breath. The pinch in my chest grew more severe, a yearning welling up in me that I rarely experienced. It was uncomfortable, nothing as easy and uncomplicated as lust.
I moved my feet side to side, swaying with him. “See, not so intimidating, right?”
Wyatt raised a thick brow. “We’re not even going to the beat of the music.”
A grin spread on my lips. “What about me says rule follower?”
His eyes crinkled with a genuine smile, and fuck, he was breathtaking. “Nothing. Damn, that’s freeing.”
I swallowed hard, my throat growing tighter.
People didn’t look at me like that—like I was resourceful or worthwhile or precious.
I got eye rolls and amusement, I got smirks or sexy looks, But I didn’t get…
this. My skin prickled. Shit, if I didn’t move, and fast, I was going to cry, which was not the best vibe for a dance club.
I let go of his shoulders and pivoted so we weren’t face to face anymore.
Reaching back, I grabbed his arms. “Place your hands on my hips, and I’ll do the rest of the work.
” I glanced behind me, and our proximity slammed right into me, stealing my breath.
His lips were right there, looking so kissable and full, and he stared at me with this intense wonder that made me want to sob.
Right. That wouldn’t fly here. “Don’t worry,” I said, trying to lighten the moment.
“I’ll make sure to be careful around your new piercing. ”
Though that didn’t mean I couldn’t grind against him.
I whipped my head around, and his hands settled on my hips.
Fuck, his palms were large, his fingers thick, and the way he gripped me made me feel utterly owned.
His fingers teased at the skin above my waistband, and too easily I could imagine him stripping me down, bending me over, and fucking me until I screamed.
My whole body lit up from the touch, the electricity between us unparalleled.
And as the thump of the electronica overhead sank into my bones, I began to dance.
I started out with a slow sway back and forth, feeling out the beat, and his heavy hands remained on my hips, keeping me grounded.
I didn’t know how much I could crave a sensation, but the way Wyatt drew me back down to earth was one I’d never experienced before, one I didn’t realize was even possible.
I ground my ass against his crotch, and his hot breath puffed against the back of my neck.
Already I could feel the slight stiffening of his semi there, and the realization he was turned on lit me on fire.
Heat coursed through my veins, pumping to the same beat as the music.
God, the idea he might be interested was a fantasy that kept playing over and over in my head.
That the intensity in his eyes was the same lust that percolated inside me.
The thump, thump, thump of the music traveled through me, making me move on automatic.
It didn’t help that I had a sharp memory of the exact size and heft of his dick, since I’d had it in my hand.
I also remembered how hot the piercing looked there.
I swallowed hard and tilted my head back in surrender.
It brushed against his chest, but he didn’t move away.
If anything, he moved closer.
His chest pressed against my back, his hardened cock nestled right between my cheeks, and fuck, I was going to detonate.
Wyatt smelled so damn good, his cedar and musk scent washing over me, and his big body, his large hands gripping me tight, threatened to tug me under.
For someone who said he had no rhythm, he seemed to follow mine with ease.
Far too fast I could imagine that knack applying elsewhere, as he railed into me until I screamed.
A bigger guy approached us, sliding right up in front of me. He began to inch in on us, and irritation prickled through me. I wanted Wyatt for myself, goddammit. From behind me, Wyatt stiffened up.
The guy put his hands on my waist overtop of Wyatt’s, and Wyatt’s grip tightened on my hips as he plastered himself to my back.
“Move along,” Wyatt said, his voice coming out gruff. Unf. My god. The possessiveness poured off him in waves, and while that had never been a thing for me in the past, he was pushing all my buttons.
The guy grinned, lifted his hands in an “oops” gesture, and slipped into the crowd, presumably to find another dance partner.
“Sorry,” Wyatt said, his hot breath tickling my ear. “Did you want to dance with him?”
I craned my neck back so I was close enough for him to hear. “Nope. Feel free to scare away any guys you like. The growlier the better.”
He squeezed my hips again, making me too aware of his pierced erection pressed right between my crack.
Fuck, he was too damn hot. The music pulsed through me, and I danced to it anew, enjoying being present here with him.
A sense of abandon gripped me, one I often experienced at the club, and I reveled in it.
The chance to shed everything that followed me day in and day out—a string of mistakes and fuckups I couldn’t seem to escape.
Here in the moment was pure, just adrenaline and movement and touch, and I savored every second.
Electricity zipped between us, and my skin grew sensitized in a way that was rare.
Every brush of our bodies against each other demanded my full attention.
Wyatt’s breath puffed against my nape, and he ground against me with a fervor that didn’t belong to a straight guy.
I wanted to explore his body so badly, to just trace every muscle and scar with my tongue.
Hell, I’d settle for kissing him.
And I hated kissing.
It was too boring, and I got too easily distracted. Yet we’d been talking daily, and weeks had passed since his appointment. And in that time, my desperation had increased more and more.
Another guy sauntered up to us, and Wyatt’s grip on my hips tightened again, a low rumble coming from his chest that I could feel.
Except the guy ignored any signs and stepped right into my space.
He reached over me to place his hands on Wyatt’s shoulders, and then he rubbed his groin against mine.
I was hard as fuck from Wyatt’s attention, but this guy wasn’t what I wanted.
A literal growl echoed from behind me, and a second later Wyatt had pulled away.
His hand slipped into mine, and he tugged, drawing me from the dance floor.
My heart thumped so hard as I followed him.
He weaved through the crowd like a missile seeking detonation, and people stepped out of his way on instinct.
The guy must’ve pushed him over the edge.
He’d drag me outside, tell me he needed to leave, and this would be the gay freak-out I’d expected.
A lot of guys found the idea of being with another guy hot in theory but lost the thrill in execution.
However, he made a left, deeper into The Truck Stop, in the direction of the bathrooms.
“Go to the women’s,” I suggested, in case he needed privacy to have a meltdown. While women did come here on occasion, this place had more of an old-school leather reputation, and guys definitely used the bathroom to hook up.
Wyatt pushed into the bathroom, and then all but dragged me inside behind him.
I stepped in after him, my heart hammering a mile a minute. The door closed shut behind me, and it was just us, the three stalls in here empty.
Wyatt whipped around to face me. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Right. Here came the freak-out. Disappointment weighed me down, and I sucked in a breath to brace myself for it.
“When that guy came up and put his hands on you, it made me go out of my mind,” he said, his shoulders heaving, his dark eyes wide. “Fuck…I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Wait. That wasn’t how the “too gay for me” conversation went. I stared up at him, my mouth dropping.
He stepped in front of me, until mere inches separated us. “Tell me I’m not alone in this.”
His gaze zeroed in on my lips.
He wasn’t…was he?
Oh fuck.
“You’re not,” I responded, unable to pull away from the gravity of his gaze. The air between us grew tenser than ever.
“I’m going to regret it more if I don’t,” he rasped out.
Wyatt closed the space between us and kissed me.