Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Natasha ended the call and bumped into the vanity counter behind her.
She set the phone down, swallowing at the sight of Wyatt’s lips drawn tight.
“Gwen is safe at her hotel. She wasn’t with Felix long.
And it looks like we may have misread the situation between them.
” She rushed out the details Harper had shared as to what she’d learned about Gwen.
Quick, fragmented statements. Her nerves cutting through as he leaned against the interior doorframe with crossed arms, his eyes trapping her in place.
How much of her conversation with Harper had he overheard?
“Harper and your people are working on leads. Trying to come up with a plan.” She worked the words loose, the beginning of a ramble that would inevitably follow if he kept staring at her like that.
He cocked his head, and a touch of darkness passed over his face. “And one plan is to use Gwen to get to Felix in hopes of getting to The Knight?” His tone was raspy and sleepy, but there was still an unmistakable bite of anger present.
“I don’t want that.” She drew in a deep breath and studied him.
His muscles were taut. Jawline tight beneath his beard.
“You’re obsessed with this hacker, but you .
. .” His words trailed off as he pushed away from the doorframe and took one step into the bathroom.
“You didn’t even take a moment to consider using Gwen.
” He closed the space between them, pinning her against the counter as he brought his palms down on each side of her.
He had her in his favorite position—caged between his arms. “Finding him is everything to you.”
“It’s not everything if you get hurt. If Gwen gets hurt.” Liquid crept into her eyes, taking her off guard. The visible signs of her emotions blurred her sight.
He angled his head when she forced her gaze back up. His eyes were still dark, but they weren’t shadowed with anger this time. They were a softer blue-gray, more like the color of the sea in Ibiza, a reminder of when they’d nearly had sex.
“I’ll never forget this. I’ll never forget you having my back like this.” His hand lifted to palm her face, and when he leaned closer, his hard shaft pressed against her.
She swallowed a moan, letting it die inside of her until he secured his other hand in her hair and gently tugged, guiding her chin up. Then, she let the gasp free. Let him see her desire for him, as wrong as the timing may be.
“Are we back in that same boat of crazy?” Her voice was so weak her words nearly crumbled in the air.
Instead of answering, Wyatt asked, “You truly think I’m capable of love, don’t you?” He was searching for the truth in her eyes, but she gave it with her heart, hoping he would feel it in a kiss.
Natasha pressed up on her toes and brought her mouth to his. If a kiss were a love poem, a flower unfolding to reveal the brightest red, or the moment a loved one stepped into view upon returning home safe from duty . . . that was this moment. This kiss.
Her lust and desire expanded as she breathed in his intoxicating scent, which could only be pheromones since Wyatt wasn’t wearing cologne. It filled the tight space between them as every possible emotion pushed against her rib cage, clamoring for attention.
The kiss was consuming. It was raw and real. Intense.
Teeth clashing. Tongues dueling. Need that’d been held in limbo for eight years suddenly released.
He didn’t stifle his groan, he released it freely, and as she surrendered to him, to the moment, her body went lax.
“Natasha.” He trailed his mouth to her ear, his breath fanning out and heating her skin, causing her to shudder. Wanting more, she latched on to his biceps to pull herself closer.
A sharp nip on her earlobe. A soft kiss at the side of her neck. She buried her fingertips in the fabric of his sleeves when his thumbs brushed over her nipples before traveling slowly down the sides of her ribs.
When he tugged on the hem of her tank top, Natasha let go of her hold on him and raised her arms to speed up the process of getting her topless.
A step back. A quick once-over. Desire turning his eyes to yet another shade of blue-gray, the color of the sky when a storm loomed overhead.
She planted her lip firmly between her teeth and prayed he wouldn’t back down tonight.
It’d been eight years of interruptions and bad timing, and, hopefully, not even The Knight could stand in their way this time.
He dropped to his knees without warning, secured his hands on her hips, and lowered her gray sweatpants, caressing her legs as he did so, while she watched and tried to remember how to breathe.
Standing only in a pair of plain white cotton panties, Natasha instinctively banded her arms across her body as his gaze, intensely focused on her nakedness, caused her skin to grow hot.
“Please, Tash.” Wyatt reached for her wrist, a request to show herself to him.
The knot in her throat went down easier than expected given her exposed state. After eight freaking years of wanting him, what reason did she have to hide?
She wasn’t that young twenty-something-year-old standing alone at the altar anymore. She wasn’t broken or afraid. Strength and confidence rolled through her like a high tide moving in over the sand, and her hands went to his shoulders.
His lips tipped at the sides. The hint of a wolfish grin. A sexy, the-things-I’m-gonna-do-to-you kind of grin. And God help her, she wanted him to do all of them.
Those storm-gray eyes lowered once again.
And if she were the moon and he the earth, it seemed Wyatt could no longer fight the gravitational pull between them.
Lifting a hand, he traced one finger down the center of her stomach, over her panties.
Her knees buckled, her breath hitched, and a tremble fired straight through her body as his touch burned a line to her sensitive bud.
Strong hands gripped her outer thighs as he leaned in and nibbled at the hemline of her panties, his short beard softly scraping along her skin.
His lips brushing across the band of material.
Her breasts throbbed, heavy with need. The impending moment was almost too much, waiting for him to kiss her where she’d only dreamed of before.
Wyatt remained steady on his knees, eyes lifting back to hers as if he needed to see the expression on her face while he touched her. Needed to know how he made her feel. She was completely undone. Unraveled like a never-ending spool of yarn.
Barely touching me, and I’m going to come.
She lost his eyes when his tongue circled her navel, and his finger shifted her underwear to the side to gain access to her shaved center.
“Wyatt,” she cried when his finger pushed inside and instantly crooked to her G-spot like he somehow had superpowers and just knew where to find it.
“I want my mouth on you, is that okay?”
His request for permission had her blinking. Taking a moment to pause at his sincerity in such a heated moment. She wasn’t sure if his question qualified as chivalry, particularly in British aristocracy, but it warmed her heart.
“Please,” she said. Then added a nod, worried her emotions, wrapped like a tight corset around her ribs, might have strangled the word.
She fisted his dark blond hair as ecstasy mounted inside of her . . . her breath, her words, her everything frozen in this moment of intimacy.
He removed his finger, and she gasped from the loss, but when he dragged her underwear down, his fingertips sliding slowly along her skin in the process, she swallowed hard, preparing herself for what was next.
His warm tongue slid along the seam of her pussy, and she cried out a shriek of pleasure, losing hold of his hair to grab on to the counter for support.
This man was a lover, that was for sure.
Skilled. Amazing. And right now, all hers.
She pressed her hips forward, her nipples tightening almost to points of pain as he licked and sucked, then brought two fingers deep inside her while his tongue flicked and caressed.
The climax built and built. Her hands flew to his shoulders when she surrendered to the orgasm.
“Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath as he brought his lips up to her pelvic bone and then worked his mouth higher until he was standing, and they were kissing again.
His cock strained against his jeans, hard as a rock, and she rotated her hips, ready for him. Prepared to take every inch he’d give her.
Lonely nights wouldn’t exist with this man inside of her.
Hallmark movies wouldn’t be necessary if she had his kiss. His touch.
In her bed, he’d shield her from the darkness of the world, helping her sleep better at night.
She kicked her sweatpants and panties free from her ankles without disconnecting their lips.
Then, with deft fingers, he worked at the button of his jeans and zipper and quickly pushed them out of the way.
He stepped out of them, and they only stopped kissing for the moment it took to discard his shirt.
“You tasted so good down there,” he whispered against her mouth. “And your lips up here are a special brand of heaven, too. I could kiss you forever.” Before she knew it, he’d spun her around to face the shower stall, and she gasped when her breasts met the cold glass.
With her head tilted to the side, a sigh of pleasure left her mouth as he placed her palms high against the glass, then trailed one rough hand from the center of her back down to the curve of her ass.
She squeezed her legs together as need grabbed hold of her, and he fit his naked body tight to hers.
She wanted him.
Needed him.
With eyes closed now, her fingertips curled into her palms against the glass, her adrenaline surging with every moment of waiting for him to unite their bodies as one.
He lifted her curtain of blonde hair, shifted it to the side, and brought his mouth to the nape of her neck before slanting his lips near her ear. “I want to do something different, but I honestly don’t know how.”
Chills crested and crashed over her spine. “What is it?” she whispered, opening her eyes.
He propped his hands alongside hers. “Make love. I want to make love to you.” His voice was raw and scratchy with desire, but a swirl of other emotions cut through, too.
I’m going to fall in love with this man.
And maybe part of her already had.
She’d left a piece of herself with him on the beach in California.
Another fragment in Ibiza.
Then in Colorado.
He already owned so much of her heart, how could she not give him the rest?