17. Lark
LARK
Having a casual dinner with Wyatt and his family was easy.
Too easy.
I could feel that Red’s condition made Wyatt uneasy, but for me, I loved listening to stories about when the Sullivans were little, especially hearing the pride in Red’s voice when he talked about Wyatt.
There was so much love there.
The fact Penny had stolen the chicken carcass from dinner and forced us all into an unexpected chicken funeral had me giggling the rest of the night.
I couldn’t get over the look of horror on Wyatt’s face.
Poor Joey had lost his composure and ended up throwing up all over Tootie’s rosebushes.
He recovered once he learned that the chicken was store-bought and not one of the cute little hens that milled around Tootie’s backyard.
We also had the best blueberry pie I’d ever tasted.
After dessert, Penny had begged and pleaded to have a sleepover. The boys took off to a late-night beach party, and Duke and Lee parted ways, presumably bringing Red back to his place at Haven Pines.
The silence in Wyatt’s car was deafening on the ride back. I fiddled with the hem of my skirt.
When he caught my movements, Wyatt adjusted the air-conditioning. “Are you hot?”
I only shook my head. Truth was, I was hot . Hot and bothered.
The drive was quick, and once I’d wrapped my head around the fact that the crushed limestone path connected the two properties, I had a much better sense of where each home was located within the greater boundaries of town.
Bit by bit I was learning more about Outtatowner and feeling more comfortable in my temporary hometown.
When we stopped on the driveway between my apartment over the barn and Wyatt’s house, he didn’t make a move to get out. I looked up at him in the fading evening sunlight.
He cleared his throat, and I stared a moment too long at his chiseled, stubbled jawline. Wyatt reached into his pocket and opened his hand. On his palm was a key. “This is for you.”
I reached over and plucked the key from his hand, careful not to touch him. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Use it any time.”
“Um... okay.”
Fuck, this is awkward.
I wanted Wyatt to lean in, grab the back of my neck, and kiss me again. Part of me knew he wanted it too. His eyes darted to my lips, and I licked them. Our steady breaths were the only sounds filling the interior of his car.
But he didn’t inch forward.
“Good night, Wyatt.”
I unfolded myself from his car and took the steps to my upstairs apartment two at a time. Clutching his house key in my hand, I pushed through my own front door and leaned against it.
I was flustered. Annoyed.
Why wouldn’t he just kiss me again?
You know what? No. I took care of his schedule, his players, his daughter.
He’d invited me to a family dinner, and his family members were so amazing my heart ached.
The way we were acting around each other was ridiculous.
We were adults. I could tell he wanted to kiss me but wouldn’t do anything about it.
He was a grouch, and he was happy to live in his grouchy little trash can.
Nope.
Not today, Oscar.
Gathering my courage, I opened my front door and bounded back down the stairs. With purposeful strides, I walked across the driveway and up to his front door.
One knock. Then two.
I leaned in but heard nothing through the heavy wood door but silence.
Do I use the key?
That felt like a weird invasion of privacy, so instead I knocked again and tried the handle. Unlocked, I opened the door only slightly to peek my head in.
“Wyatt? It’s Lark. Can I come in?”
I listened again. Silence.
No. Not silence, but something else, coming from the back.
“Wyatt?” I tried again.
A low moan floated down the hallway.
Was that? Oh god—
Excited and feeling brave, I slinked through the door and closed it quietly behind me. I dropped the key Wyatt had given me on the small table at the entrance and slowly crept toward the sound.
I heard it again. An unmistakable soft, low groan of pleasure.
My toes tingled. My nipples hardened beneath the flimsy fabric of my dress. My heart raced as my feet carried me toward the sound.
At the end of the dark hallway, a bedroom door was open. The bedside lamp was glowing, but otherwise the room was cloaked in darkness. Across the bedroom, a light shone through the open bathroom door.
My feet were bolted to the floor.
In the mirror, Wyatt was naked. Glorious lines of cut muscle as he hunched over, one hand gripping the edge of the sink and the other...
The other was fisted around his cock.
“Fuck.” He groaned again as his hand moved up and down his length. “Lark.”
Holy shit. Holy shit!
He pumped into his hand. Long, hard strokes as his hips pushed forward. A guttural moan slipped from his throat, and my hand moved to my neck in shock. My pulse pounded beneath my fingertips.
I stood, watching Wyatt stroke himself, my name on his lips. It was wild. Wrong. But such a turn-on. I could feel myself get wet.
My throat was thick, but I stared directly at him. “Wyatt.”
His gaze whipped to mine, but he didn’t stop. The rich flecks of amber in his eyes darkened, and the sharp muscles of his jaw clenched.
He looked out of control, lost in his desire, and it was my name that he was stroking himself to. I wanted to tear my dress apart and give myself to him based on that look alone. Wyatt continued staring through the mirror as his fist pumped and his thumb brushed over the head of his cock again.
“Wyatt.”
He groaned. His abs flexed, and I could see the veins in his forearms as he worked himself in long, smooth strokes. “Again.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Say my name again.”
I bit back a smile and swallowed. “Wyatt.”
“Oh fuck.” His head fell back as his strokes became harsh and frantic. He was close. I wanted to see him finish—to see him come apart with my name on his lips as I watched the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on stroke his long, thick cock.
My fingertips found the hem of my dress and brushed up my thigh, but I didn’t move from the doorway.
Grazing over the fabric of my underwear, I knew they would be damp.
Wyatt’s eyes landed on the spot between my legs where my dress hid me from him, but my hand disappeared.
My other hand skated across my hard nipples.
God, I want his mouth there. Everywhere.
My whole body was burning up. I wanted to feel him, every delicious inch, as he moved over me and split me open with that monster cock.
His back muscles rippled, and I knew he must be dangerously close.
“Again, Lark. Say it again.” Wyatt’s voice was thick and gravelly as he pumped himself over and over.
“Come for me, Wyatt. Please. I want it.” Teasing the edge of my panties, I didn’t let myself push past that barrier to fill the aching emptiness between my thighs. After seeing his dick, I knew nothing else would satisfy me and that my fingers would be a sad letdown.
“Wyatt, please.”
My quiet, pleading whimper sent him tumbling over the edge. His hips bucked as he came. Long, thick ropes erupted from him as he shuddered. “Yes, god yes, Lark.”
Tingles prickled at the base of my spine. I had just walked into my neighbor’s—no, my boss’s house—and interrupted him while he was jerking off to my name .
It was the kinkiest, wildest thing that had ever happened to me. In the heat of the moment I hadn’t felt an ounce of shame, but suddenly, watching Wyatt unravel had me worried that I’d not only invaded his privacy but completely blown up the perfect summer gig I’d been building.
I needed to go. To get out and take a cold shower and find my vibrator. Maybe I could pretend it was Wyatt and ease the tension that was pulled taut inside me. Whatever I did, it wouldn’t involve looking Wyatt in the eyes and admitting that I’d totally spied on him.
Frantically, I moved through his dark house and burst out of the front door. The screen door slammed behind me, and I ran up the steps to my apartment and flung myself inside.
“What the hell was that?” I whispered into the darkness.
Your hot boss just came to you calling out his name and pleading for him to finish.
Behind me, a loud pounding at my door had me yelping, and I jumped.
“Lark. Open the door.”
I brushed back the stray hairs at my forehead and took a deep breath. My body ached with need, and based on the growly tone in Wyatt’s voice, he was not happy .
Time to get fired... and probably arrested for being a creep or something .
I slowly pulled open the door. Wyatt leaned with one hand against the doorframe and the other in a fist at his side. I tamped down the thought of where that hand had just been. He was wearing only low-slung jeans and no shirt. His feet were bare, and damn that was so hot.
I lifted my chin and tried not to freak out.
“You ran away.”
I brushed away another stray hair and tried to steady my voice. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in, and then when I saw you, I—”
Wyatt invaded my space, pushing the door open and stepping inside the apartment. His mouth was hot on mine before I could even finish my sentence.
Our lips broke apart, our pants mixed in the sliver of space between us. “You ran away. Before I could get my mouth on yours and make you come as hard and good as I did.”
A moan rattled through my throat, and Wyatt kissed me again. His tongue moved over the seam of my lips, and I opened for him as he gripped me and pushed us farther into my apartment.
After weeks of simmering tension, want and need flooded my system. I pressed against his hard chest as his rough hands moved over my hips to grab my ass.
He pulled away to run one hand down the length of buttons at the front of my dress. “You teased me all fucking night with this dress. I was stroking my cock thinking about what you’d look like with it splayed open just before I fucked you.”
I was breathless. The room was spinning. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Wyatt stopped my halfhearted apology with another brutal kiss. I lifted on my toes, wanting to rub every inch of my body against his.
He dropped to his knees.
“What are you doing?”
He lifted the hem of my blue dress. “You got to watch me while I came. Now I get to taste you while you do.”
Heat rippled through me as my core clenched around emptiness, wishing to be filled. Wyatt licked and sucked my skin as he moved up my thighs and toward my underwear.
“You wouldn’t let me see this pretty pussy either.”
Over the soft material of my panties, Wyatt nuzzled me with his nose and teased me with gentle kisses.
“Wyatt, please.”
“That’s right. Beg for it.”
“Oh my god, please. Please.”
His hands pulled my underwear down to my knees, and his tongue dragged a long, slow path through my pussy. My hands found his shoulders as I steadied myself. He lowered himself to go even deeper. He stroked me with his tongue. Teased my clit until I was shaking.
“More. Please, more.”
Two thick fingers circled my clit before his mouth clamped over me and his fingers slipped inside.
My hands tangled in his hair. I should have been ashamed or embarrassed, but I wasn’t.
I was grabbing his hair and riding his face while he devoured my pussy.
I could feel his fingers, his tongue, the vibrations from every moan he made.
As I was right on the edge, he reached around to grab my ass, pushing his face deeper between my thighs to lick and suck my clit. The room dissolved as I came apart. His name was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t speak.
After one final shudder, he stood, towering over me. Lust raged a war in his eyes, and a cocky smirk played on his lips. With my underwear still at my knees, Wyatt bent and hoisted me over his shoulder. I let out a giddy shriek, and my hands flew to my skirt to cover my bare butt.
Wyatt’s wide palm came down with a playful smack, and he laughed as his hand slid under my skirt to smooth the stinging skin on my bottom. He gripped a handful of ass as he stalked toward the back bedroom.
He knew exactly where it was, and I bounced when he plopped me on the bed. As he stood over me, grinning, Wyatt slipped a condom from his back pocket.
I lifted an eyebrow. “You came prepared.”
“I walked up those stairs knowing I was going to fuck you.”
My thighs scissored. Aching need raced through me as I undid my dress, button by button. Wyatt watched as my fingers moved lower and lower until the dress was open and draping at my sides.
He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans before dropping them to the floor and stepping out of them. I watched in fascination as he freed his cock and made quick work of rolling the condom down his thick length.
On the bed, Wyatt stretched over me. My legs parted. He gripped the base of his cock, guiding it to my entrance.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this. I am not going to fuck you soft and slow. Are you okay with that?”
My hips tipped forward, begging him to enter.
“Tell me, Lark.” His eyes burned into me.
I was already coming undone beneath him. I finally found my voice. “Hard.”
Before that single syllable was out, he thrust forward, filling me and stretching me open. I cried out. He didn’t give me any time to adjust to his size before he began thrusting his hips into me.
“Oh god Wyatt. This dick—” He was setting a delicious, brutal pace, fucking me hard, just as he promised.
“Maybe next time I’ll even let you gag on it.”
I couldn’t believe the filthy things coming out of his mouth. I love it . His dirty words made me only wetter, and I wanted him to go deeper, push harder. My body adjusted to his size, and I dug my heels into him, urging him to give me more.
An incoherent stream of pants and omigod , please fuck me and yes, yes, yes filled my bedroom.
Wyatt felt incredible. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so filled.
So used . So cherished. Despite pinning me to the bed and railing me into next week, his mouth was gentle, his tongue hot, and his hands touched every nerve ending.
Sparks shot through me as he adjusted his angle and allowed the base of his cock to grind against my clit.
My nails raked across his back as I thrust my hips up to meet his every long stroke.
A hard line formed between his eyebrows, and the mean, grumpy look on his face had my pussy quivering all over again.
Wyatt gripped the back of my neck as he pumped hard into me.
With his forehead pressed to mine, his cock throbbed, and the tension melted from his shoulders.
For long moments, we breathed the same air.
Panting and sweating, I was gloriously used up.
If fucking your boss and neighbor was always like that but also meant lighting your entire life on fire? Then hand me the matches.