Chapter 24 Blake #2
Wyatt’s lips quirk at whatever he sees in my eyes. He reaches down and wraps his fingers around his shaft. “You want this?” he says hoarsely.
“Yes.”
“Then take it, baby.”
Nudging his hand away, I gauge his reaction as I stroke him. His head falls back against the back of the lounger, and he hums in approval.
A flicker of uncertainty goes through me. As confident as I was five seconds ago, the truth is… I don’t know how to make a man beg.
“I…I need you to tell me how to please you.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“What?”
“You don’t get it, do you? You breathe, and it gets me hard. It won’t take much to please me.”
Pleasure dances through me. Nobody’s ever said anything like that to me before. I like it. It empowers me, renewing my confidence.
“At least tell me if I do something you don’t like?”
“Sure,” he says, and he seems amused, as if that’s impossible for me to do.
Anticipation coils inside me as I lean forward. I flick my tongue over his tip, and Wyatt’s entire body tenses. Then I draw him into my mouth, my hand gripping the base of his shaft. When I suck gently, his hips jerk up.
“That’s it. Just like that.” His hand rests on the back of my head, guiding me but not forcing. “Jesus. You look so fucking hot sucking my cock.”
I hum around him, loving how he feels in my mouth, filling it completely. His fingers bunch in my hair, and his breathing changes, becoming more ragged, more desperate. Good. I want him desperate. I pull back, smiling at the agony that floods his eyes.
“Keep going,” he pleads. “Please.”
A thrill shoots through me. Wyatt Graham is begging me to blow him. I never would’ve dreamed it.
Lowering my head again, I lick a circle around his tip, then tease the underside with my tongue, making his hips jerk. I feel his cock throbbing beneath my tongue.
“Jesus.”
He releases a tortured noise when I drag my tongue along the full length of him. And then he’s begging again.
“Suck it. Please.”
Emboldened by his pleas, I give him what he wants, sucking him as deep as I can.
“Yes,” he growls when I tighten the suction. “Keep going. Christ, you have no idea how often I’ve thought about your mouth.”
I release him with a soft pop. “Really?”
“Really.” He slides his hand down to my lips, tracing them with his fingertips. He looks at me with something close to reverence. “This perfect mouth. Made to suck my dick.”
His dirty words make me even more determined to push him to the edge. I encircle him with my hand and give a long, slow stroke before sucking him down to the base, my tongue dragging along his throbbing shaft.
When my eyelids flutter closed, he grips my hair and tugs on it. “Eyes on me,” he says roughly. “I want to see you.”
Oh my God. Our gazes meet, and my breath gets trapped in my lungs. It’s difficult to function when he’s watching me like that. So intense. So locked in on me.
I want every thought, every look, every breath focused on me.
My mind flashes back to the husky words he’d uttered the night he told me what he likes in bed. When he said that he doesn’t want half of someone but all of them.
That’s what gets me hard.
He wasn’t lying. The eye contact makes him impossibly harder. He’s like steel in my hand, precome leaking from his tip as we stare at each other. I lap up those pearly drops with my tongue, then engulf him with my mouth, and he lets out a strangled moan.
As my hand moves faster, working in tandem with my lips and tongue, his body tenses beneath me.
“Freckles,” he rasps. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.”
I ease my mouth off him, my lips swollen and wet, but I don’t stop moving my hand. “That’s the point,” I say, then take him deep again, determined to finish what I started.
His hips buck up, his grip on my hair almost painful. “You’re gonna make me come,” he warns.
“Good,” I mumble around his cock.
I suck harder and enjoy the way his body shudders.
“Goddamn,” he grunts. “Coming, baby.”
He thrusts deeper into my mouth, and I feel a rush of power, knowing I’ve completely unraveled him. The salty, heady flavor of him coats my tongue. I swallow it down, moaning around him while he curses and shakes with release.
His body is still twitching when I pull back, wiping my mouth with a wicked grin.
Wyatt opens his eyes, his chest heaving. He gazes down at me, completely wrecked. He’s still trying to catch his breath, but his sated, heavy-lidded eyes tell me everything I need to know.
“You were right,” I say solemnly. “You have a really good dick.”
I wake up the next morning in Wyatt’s bed, the little spoon to his big one.
It’s disorienting but nice. He surprised me last night by not letting me go to my own room when we went up to bed.
I changed into pajamas and he stripped to his boxers, and then we brushed our teeth side by side and climbed into his bed.
He curled one strong arm around me, pulled me close, and it honestly felt like we’d been sleeping together for years.
I twist my head to check if he’s awake. And, God, he’s beautiful.
His hair is tousled. Lips parted in sleep.
I like him like this, with his brow uncreased and his features relaxed and unguarded.
Wyatt only shows vulnerability when he’s performing, but he looks vulnerable right now. Younger, less intense.
I don’t want to wake him, so I turn back, burrowing closer to his warm body, my ass pressed against his groin.
He must be a light sleeper, because my gentle movements summon a sleepy noise from him and he murmurs, “Morning.”
“That was cute,” I whisper, feeling myself blush.
“What?”
“That noise you just made.”
I feel a soft laugh against my hair. Then he holds me tighter and makes that low, satisfied noise again.
“Did you sleep?” I ask him.
“All night.” He sounds surprised.
“It’s the power of my blowjobs.”
That gets me a chuckle. “I don’t think we moved from this spot the entire night.” He runs a hand along my bare arm up to my shoulder, where he toys with the strap of my tank top. “Usually I’m tossing and turning and getting everything tangled up.”
“Yeah, because you don’t actually sleep. But I remmed you.”
“I’m sorry—did you just say you rammed me?”
“No, I remmed you. Like, I made you feel so good that you fell into a deep REM cycle.”
He trembles with laughter. “I got remmed all right. Remmed real hard by that sweet LMD.”
Now I’m the one howling. “Oh my God.”
“What? You’re denying you gave me some Logan Mouth Delight last night?”
“No.” I’m laughing so hard, I can’t stop hiccupping. “But that’s my dad’s drink. Now I can never have it again without thinking about blowing you.” I gulp in a breath, trying to compose myself.
Wyatt tugs me toward him again. When his forearm brushes my breasts, teasing a nipple, a shiver runs through me. Feeling that, he cups my breast, then gives the nipple a light flick, drawing a tiny moan from my lips.
“Do you like that?” he murmurs, and in the blink of an eye, the air in the bedroom goes from light to heated.
“Uh-huh.”
It’s impossible to form words when he’s toying with my nipple like that. He pinches it, and I moan again. He teases my breasts for a bit before lowering his hand to the waistband of my shorts. He curses when he realizes I’m not wearing underwear beneath them.
“No panties?”
“Nope.” I gasp when he slides his hand inside my shorts. “What are you doing?”
“Playing. Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” My voice sounds breathy to my ears.
His index finger brushes over my clit before he cups my pussy in his palm. Heat jolts through me. I rock my hips slightly, and though I can’t see his face, I can practically hear him smiling.
“You’re so wet this early in the morning,” he muses. “Are you into morning sex?”
“Are you offering?”
“No,” he says, even as he slips two fingers through my slit to tease my opening.
“Then what is this?” I challenge.
“Playing,” he repeats. “Lift up this leg, freckles.”
Disappointment clenches in my stomach when he abruptly moves his hand, but it’s only because I’m apparently not lifting my leg fast enough for him.
With a deliberate pat, he grips my knee and slides it up, giving him better access to the spot that’s aching for him.
Then his hand is back, stroking and teasing, dipping into the arousal pooling at my core.
“You’re soaked,” he mutters.
The pads of his fingers are coated with wetness, and he brings them to my clit, rubbing slow circles over the swollen bud.
His touch is precise yet indolent, as if he has all the time in the world.
His teeth graze my shoulder, sending pleasure dancing through me.
I feel his erection against my ass, but he doesn’t release it from his boxers.
Doesn’t try to kiss me. He just rubs my clit until I’m mindless with need, desperately grinding against his palm.
“I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” I whisper.
“And that’s a problem because…?” His voice is a husky tease.
I’m practically fucking his hand now. My muscles coil tight.
Every inch of skin starts tingling, pleasure building in my core.
I try to draw a breath, but it happens to be at the same time as he summons the orgasm from me.
I choke in surprise, crying out as waves of bliss spread through my body, from my fingers to my toes and everywhere in between.
“Such a good girl,” he says in approval while I gasp for air.
The orgasm short-circuits my brain. I trap his hand between my thighs, my pussy spasming from each delicious, blissful pulse. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I roll onto my back, heaving as I stare up at the ceiling. I feel him watching me, so I turn my face toward his.
“Is this awkward?” I ask him.
“No, but it should be,” he says gruffly.
I fully agree. I search his uneasy expression. “So why isn’t it?”
“I don’t know.”
He stretches out beside me, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting on his abdomen. He’s silent for so long, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then his chest rises on a long inhale.
“I figured something out a while ago.” He exhales in a rush. “You’re my muse.”
My heart skips a beat. “I am?”
“Yeah. Since you got to Tahoe, I’ve been writing nonstop. And none of it is trash. I’m writing good shit, freckles.”
I smile at that. “So why do you sound so upset?”
“Cole told me I can’t bang my muse.”
“I mean, technically we didn’t bang,” I point out.
“True… And I do like a good technicality.” He sounds more upbeat now. “Maybe it won’t go away then. The inspiration.”
“Is this a real thing?” I wrinkle my forehead, a part of me wondering if he’s messing with me.
“Sort of. It’s an unspoken rule that you don’t sleep with your muse.”
“Then you’re in luck. I have it under good authority that Wyatt Graham doesn’t follow the rules.”
He laughs, but the humor dissolves fast. “Probably should, though,” he says. “About this at least. About us.”
I roll onto my side, studying his serious profile. “You want us to come up with rules?”
“Yeah, maybe. If we do this—”
“What do you mean if? We’ve already given each other orgasms.”
“I mean if we continue giving each other orgasms. We can’t let it get messy.” His voice strains. “We can’t, Blake.”
“Okay. So what rules are you proposing?”
He’s quiet, thinking it over. “It ends when the summer ends,” he finally says.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “You think it’ll even last that long? Because you keep telling me you’re only good for a short time, remember? Now you’re okay with a monthslong fling?”
He falters for a moment. “As long as we keep it casual, I guess I’m cool with it.”
Something about his smooth, careless response has me hiding a smile. He’s cool with it, huh? I should be bristling about the way he phrased it like he’s doing me a favor, but I’m not. If he needs to tell himself that “casual” is the only way we can move forward, then I won’t get in his way.
Besides, this has to end when summer’s over. How can it last beyond that? I’m going back to college at the end of August. He’s going…wherever he’s going. Wyatt can barely handle an actual relationship, let alone a long-distance one.
“But we don’t drag it out,” he says. “Summer’s over, and we walk away.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“And the friendship comes first.” He speaks without hesitation now. Brisk and self-assured. A line drawn in the sand. “It comes before everything. If hooking up gets in the way of it, we stop the hookups. Not the friendship.”
“Friendship first. Always.” I snag my lip between my teeth, a thought occurring to me. “What if one of us wants to stop before the summer ends?”
“Then we stop.” He shifts onto his side, meeting my eyes. “No questions asked. No explanations required. You say the word, it’s done.”
I search his face for a beat, then nod. “Okay. So those are the rules.”
Wyatt nods back. “Those are the rules.”
1 NEW EMAIL
From: County Records Department
Subject: Re: Records Request
Dear Ms. Logan,
The County Records Department has completed processing your recent request. Please find attached the certified copy of the death certificate for Darlene Beth Gallagher.
As for your request of medical examiner records, please note that no such report exists under this name.
We also conducted a search for death certificates for the additional two individuals you listed; however, no records were located for them in our files.
Regarding your inquiry into property records to determine house purchases in Nevada under those names, please note that such records are maintained by a different office.
This link can provide further assistance with regard to property ownership and transfer documentation.
If you have any further questions regarding death records, please feel free to contact our office.
Sincerely,
Fiona Baker
County Records Department