Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Emily
When Heath tucks me in at bedtime, it’s in his bed. And instead of letting him go, I hold him tight. All night long.
On Sunday morning, I wake up between them. Wyatt is in front of me, soft and sprawling. My comfortable teddy bear.
Behind me is Heath, and even asleep, the man is tense.
Doesn’t stop me from clinging to him, though. My hand is wrapped tight around his forearm, as if he’s a brand-new security blanket I’m trying to break in.
We need to leave the cabin by noon. The caretakers come between noon and three, every Sunday, and then a few times during the week, depending on the booking schedule.
The countdown is on. We need to return to Conception Ridge and our real lives.
How do you ask weekend fuck buddies when you can do it again? Would tonight be too soon?
Hey, Heath, just how big is your bed?
As if my thoughts were loud enough to wake him up, he stirs behind me, his arm tightening around my waist.
“You’re awake.”
“You can tell?”
“All night long, you were a soft little handful of perfection. Now, you’re a tense stress ball of perfection.”
Takes one to know one, I guess. “How long have you been up?”
“A while.”
Ah. So it wasn’t my filthy thought that woke him up, a poke through the ether. Maybe he was worrying too.
I turn around, and he scoops me into his arms, hitching me right close to his body. His cock rises to attention between us, tripping a spill of arousal through my own core. Hello, Daddy.
Lifting my leg high on his hip, I rub against him. “So, another lesson? What do you say we do next, when we have to head back to reality soon?”
He flips me onto my back, shoving the light blanket we all slept under down to the foot of the bed. “Quickies. How to get turned on, fast, and work together as a team to achieve a common aim.”
Wyatt rolls over, giving us a sleepy grin as he discovers Heath wedging himself between my thighs. “Good fucking morning.”
“School’s in session,” I pant.
“I’m an A+ student,” Wyatt drawls, sliding his hand between our bodies to cup my pussy. He drags his fingers through a pool of slick at my entrance, making me moan. He pulls the moisture up to my clit, easing the path of his touch. “What were you saying about turning her on?”
“Put him in me,” I breathe. I glance sideways, then back up to Heath above me.
I lick my lips as I hold his gaze. “Let’s pretend Daddy isn’t sure if he should fuck me, but you’re his friend from work who fucks me all the time, and you know I’m hot for him.
You know I want him to hold me down and take me. ”
Heath tightens his fingers around mine, and his nose flares wide, his eyes bright.
It’s a mash-up of the fantasy he told me yesterday. Wyatt’s not the only horny beast who can pin me down and take me for the first time, over and over again.
Daddy stealing my innocence as I pant an uncertain protest? Top of the quickie inspiration stack, I think.
“Maybe I don’t want this.” I wink so we’re all clear I do. “Maybe Daddy’s under some sort of spell, and—”
Heath groans out loud, deep and long, as Wyatt turns his hand, fisting Heath’s erection now. Roughly dragging it through my folds he’s slicked up.
“Feel how wet she is for you, man.” We’re all breathing hard now as Wyatt jerks his friend off against my pussy. “Nobody will know if Daddy takes what he wants. She slept curled up in your arms for a reason. She needs you inside her. She feels empty without your cock buried deep.”
“No….” I faux-plead.
Heath grunts.
“She has to say that, she’s a good girl,” Wyatt whispers, his eyes wicked and hot. “But she’ll be saying yes soon enough. She’ll be crying out for Daddy to come deep inside her.”
“Stop talking,” Heath growls, and I squeak, worried we’ve gone too far.
Wyatt shuts up. But he doesn’t stop jerking Heath off, so he can’t be that worried.
And then Heath’s hips move, just a scant little shift. Enough to push the tip inside me and hold it there as he breathes heavily above me.
My whole body feels alive, and I know it won’t take much for me to go over that glorious edge. Dirty-talk-driven quickies is my favorite kind of sex yet.
Heath drags my wrists together above my head and pins them with one hand. He wraps his other hand around the side of my neck, his thumb trailing a firm line down the front of my throat. “Shh,” he rasps.
I say nothing.
“Hold still for Daddy,” he growls. “Be a good girl.”
My breaths jerk in and out of me, tight little sucks of air.
Wyatt rolls away, and it’s just the two of us.
Heath’s thighs shove my legs wider, and then that hand coasts down my body.
A rough, gasp-inducing squeeze of my breast. A ghost of his palm over my belly, where his hand spreads from hip bone to hip bone.
He’s so much bigger than me, he could overpower me in a heartbeat.
I am entirely at his mercy. My pleasure is his to give, or to deny. And he wants me to be a silent little thing for him, so Daddy can secretly fuck me in this big bed on an early Sunday morning.
He finally settles his hand on my hip, lifting me up, tilting me to take him better.
And then he plunges into me, his whole body driving forward and down. He pins me beneath him, and the angle he’s entered me at puts my clit right against the rigid lower plane of his belly.
On the next rocking thrust, his whole body works against mine in perfect tandem. The pressure on my clit scrambles my brain, and the heavy push of his erection, claiming space inside me, is a one-two strum against my arousal.
His grip tightens on my wrists. Another thrust. Oh God. Need coils tight.
“Don’t fucking come on me,” he snarls. “If you come, I’ll follow. Daddy can’t come inside you.”
I cry out, a bad girl now who can’t keep quiet, because I’m lost, that image tipping me over into ecstasy. He bites out a curse word then barrels into me, three times fast, before locking up his hips when his cock is deep in my belly.
His eyes are burning embers as he sucks in a breath, staring down at me. “Couldn’t help myself,” he says slowly. He rocks his hips, his cock slowly pulsing inside me. “You’re too fucking sexy.”
“Need your mouth, little miss.” Wyatt climbs up the bed, and I turn my head, parting my lips as his cock thrusts forward, even as Heath is still inside my pussy. Three hard pulls against my tongue and I’m gulping down his release, hot spurts right to the back of my throat.
He holds himself in my mouth as his long length softens just a bit.
I’m filled to the brim now, and I suckle happily at Wyatt’s tip to let him know that was everything I wanted.
Heath drags himself off me and nestles in behind me, sending Wyatt to find me a washcloth.
“This was incredible.” His voice drags, a ragged edge to his tone underlining the middle word in a way that pings my brain, even through the sex fog. “The perfect end to a perfect weekend.”
“We still have breakfast.” I nuzzle into his neck. “Pancakes again?”
“A sweet treat for Wyatt’s sweet girl?” He smooths his hand over my hair. “Absolutely.”
Wyatt’s girl?
I recoil.
And the slash of pain in his gaze confirms my reaction is on point.
This was incredible.
Wyatt’s girl.
But, of course, it was only one weekend for him. We’re too different. He has a whole life—respectable, responsible—that doesn’t have room for a twenty-year-old girlfriend and her himbo boyfriend, who just happens to work for Mr. Respectable Businessman.
“Emily…” His voice cracks, and I shove the searing pain down as deep as I can hide it.
“I know…” I stroke his cheek. “Pancakes.”
“Wait—”
I hop off the bed just as Wyatt returns, pushing past him. I keep going, quickly, to the bathroom first, where I scrub between my legs, then down to the kitchen.
I can hear them talking upstairs, sharp tones, words too quiet to make out. Words I don’t really want to hear anyway.
Clattering some pots and pans together covers that nonsense up nicely.
But it’s hard to escape them when we’re sharing a cabin, and they arrive, pushing past each other, moments later.
Wyatt starts. “Emily, we need to talk.”
I glare at him. “Did you know? That this was just a weekend?”
“It’s not just a weekend.”
“For you? Or for both of you?”
He hesitates long enough that I get my answer. Clatter clatter. Bang bang.
“Emily, stop for a second.”
“It’s my turn to make breakfast,” I say brightly. “Thanks for all the sex lessons, Heath.”
“Whoa.” That’s Heath now, finally finding his voice. “Wyatt said we need to talk. That requires you to actually listen to us.”
I pause, properly chastened. My heart doesn’t want to listen, though. He doesn’t need to spell anything out. I’m a big girl. Everyone’s supposed to get their heart broken, anyway. Rite of passage.
“Put down the wooden spoon.”
I set it on the counter.
“Look at me.”
That is harder to do, but I slowly lift my chin, and I find Heath waiting for me, his face tight.
“Wyatt told you that we both caught feelings for you at the same time. We’ve shown you those feelings a lot this weekend.
What just happened now…” He scrubs his hand over his face.
“Fuck, Emily, you turn me inside out. Before you, all my secret cravings were just that—secrets, and only in my head. And then over the last couple of months, as Wyatt told me how much he felt for you, he somehow got me to fucking confess to being an absolute pervert where you’re concerned.
This guy? He’s the fucking best. And all he’s ever wanted is to find his other half.
His mate. A pretty little wife. You could be his bride—”
“This is too fast,” Wyatt growls.
But it doesn’t feel fast. That part feels right and perfect. Wild and free.
Heath gives me a pained look. “I thought it would be better if I got out of your way.”
And that part feels like absolute bullshit. I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up his hand.
He’s not done. “I thought that. I don’t think it now.
Holding you last night, all night long…I could never let you go.
And I tried to show you that with my body because I wasn’t sure how to put it into words, when I also know that Wyatt has forever plans for you. And I cannot stand in the way of that.”
I nod hesitantly, reeling at the unexpected turn of events.
“So—” Heath starts, then stops again. “We’ll figure it out. But we all need to be a little patient.”
“Mmm.”
Wyatt frowns at me. “You don’t look happy.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I frown too. Frowns aren’t always about grumpiness. Sometimes it’s a thinking face.
I cross to him, leaving Heath standing alone for a moment. “You told me to trust my instincts,” I say softly, carefully. I need him on board here. I think he is, but I’ve never done this before.
“I did.”
“I need more. I can’t just be a bride. A wife?” I swallow around a lump as Wyatt ducks his head. “I need to be a little miss, too.”
Wyatt’s head jerks up.
My breath catches in my throat. Does he feel the same way?