Chapter 8 Rosie
Chapter Eight
ROSIE
Can I kiss you?
Wyatt’s question reverberated in the space between us.
It took me a minute, but the answer was a foregone conclusion as far as my body was concerned.
I felt as if I were burning up inside. My knees were weak, and heat pooled in my belly as a tingling sensation radiated outward.
I could barely breathe, and I was nearly desperate for air.
Even more than air, I wanted the feel of his lips on mine.
I managed to draw in a shaky breath, unable to look away.
All the while, I was anxious Wyatt could see all the fears that crowded my thoughts and heart and the vulnerability that I hated so much.
I was so afraid he could see right through me.
Even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself, all of this was why I tried to ignore him after our fling a few years back.
And then, Vegas happened. Too long of trying to hold my feelings at bay and a chemistry so powerful it made me reckless.
Oh, how I wanted to play it cool with him!
Instead, one word betrayed me. “Please.”
Just when I thought Wyatt might mock me and that there might be a tilt of a grin on his lips, he looked at me quietly, and his expression softened. He exuded a sense of protectiveness that helped me to feel safe, helped me to let go with him in a way that I couldn’t with anyone else.
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispered.
My entire being felt as if it were arching toward him, near frantic for him. There wasn’t much space in this bathroom, yet, the distance between us felt like a chasm.
The seconds ticked by. It couldn’t have been maybe more than two or three seconds, yet, it felt like forever before he took a step closer.
He lifted a hand and brushed one of the locks of my hair that had fallen loose away from my cheek.
His finger brushed along the shell of my ear.
Every subtle touch struck sparks that leaped over the surface of my skin and kindled the heat already burning inside higher and higher.
His fingers curled into a light fist, his knuckles brushing down along my neck before his hand unfurled again. He palmed my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. My mouth parted. I could hardly breathe as my pulse pounded so hard I could hear the rush of it in my ears.
Once again, my voice betrayed all the secrets I wanted to keep. Well, one very specific secret — that I was desperate for him, that I wanted him so very, very much.
“Please, Wy—” His name was cut off, just as his lips brushed over mine.
I whimpered in relief. His kiss was all too brief, another brush of his lips, a tease with his tongue, and then he lifted his head. At the look in his eyes, my knees went weak.
“We’re gonna need to get out of this bathroom,” he said flatly.
“Oh!”
I was nearly shaking from the force of desire humming through my body. I had truly forgotten where we were. It was as if nothing existed outside this little bubble, this force field of electricity surrounding us.
I swallowed when Wyatt stepped back, and his hand dropped away from my cheek.
“I’m gonna walk out. If there’s anyone in the break room, I’ll say something so you know, and you can lock the door.
If you don’t hear me say anything, give it a minute and then come out.
I’ll be in my office down the hallway in the brewery area. You’ve been back there before, right?”
I had to clear my throat to speak above a whisper. “Yes. But I don’t know where your office is.”
“When you go through the swinging doors into that area, it’s the third door on the left. Just walk in. I’ll be waiting.”
Before I could say anything else, Wyatt had slipped out of the bathroom.
I had to force myself to listen to hear if he spoke.
When I didn’t hear anything for a minute or so, I carefully opened the door and looked around.
There wasn’t a soul in sight, but I could hear the muted sounds from the crowded restaurant and the busy kitchen.
The volume increased as I walked out of the break room into the hallway.
I peered both ways. I felt as if I was committing some kind of crime.
I dashed down the hallway in the opposite direction from the restaurant and hurried through the swinging doors into the production area.
Once the doors swung shut behind me, the sounds filtering down the hallway became much quieter.
Adrenaline rushed through me, spinning like a storm within my desire.
I counted the doors as I dashed down the hall.
My shoes actually squeaked on the tiled floor when I stopped in front of the third door.
I was nearly out of breath as I reached for the handle.
Before I could even touch it, the door opened, and Wyatt stood there.
I hesitated for a beat, but then he reached for my hand and tugged me toward him.
He closed the door behind us with his other hand.
The sound of the lock clicking was loud.
I stared at him. His hand was warm around mine, his touch anchoring me inside. “This is your office,” I said.
“It is.”
Still out of breath, I took a moment to glance around.
There wasn’t a desk, but a large round table took up the back of the space.
Neat stacks of papers occupied one side of it, and a notepad with a pencil rested atop it.
Two chairs flanked it. Wyatt stepped backward, pulling me with him.
Not that he had to pull hard. I would’ve gone anywhere with him.
I was still getting my bearings. In the other corner near the door was brewing equipment and a large whiteboard on the wall with notes written all over it.
“Should I take you on a tour?” Wyatt asked.
I finally brought my eyes back to his. I was instantly locked in his intense gaze.
I blinked and tried to collect myself mentally before giving up the fight. “Just kiss me. Please.”
I thought he would kiss me, and I could forget all the worries and doubts tumbling in my mind, bouncing off each other and careening around like an out-of-control pinball machine.
“In a minute. I just need to ask you something.” At my nod, he asked, “What do you want this to be?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re married. I think it’s worth seeing if this can be something more than how we feel when we’re together. I’m not even going to ask you how good it is when we kiss.” Heat rose in my cheeks. My heart pounded along in a mad dash.
I couldn’t lie to Wyatt and try to play it off. The moment we touched, I felt bracingly alive. Our connection was intense and fierce, underlaid with a passion I had never experienced before.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly when I realized he was going to wait until I spoke. “I can’t seem to bring myself to insist on some kind of divorce.”
“Some kind of divorce? Is there more than one kind?” he asked lightly.
“You know what I mean. I’m just not sure what to do.”
“We see how it goes. If you don’t want anyone to know, then it’s a little harder to see how it goes,” he pointed out.
I managed to breathe. “I know. If everyone knows, they’ll all have opinions, and I just want enough time to sort things out privately.”
I thought he might argue the point on that, but he didn’t.
“I get it.” He paused. At that moment, it felt like the air came alive, brimming with energy.
His eyes darkened. “So right now I’m gonna bend you over and fuck you on that table.
I’m also gonna take you home tonight and make sure you know that what we have is more than that. ”
Sweet hell. My knees nearly gave out. I felt a gush of moisture between my thighs as I stared up at him. The idea of him bending me over and fucking me on that table was something I wanted so badly I could hardly bear the wait.
“After that, we see each other around town. Nobody will know we planned on seeing each other. We can have coffee together. See each other at locals’ night. And maybe you’ll let me come over and actually spend the night. Something like that.”
His voice softened to a gruff rasp, and the look in his eyes sent my belly into a swoop. What he described was something we could maybe pull off. I wanted it so much I ached with it.
“What do you think about that?” he prompted.
I told the truth even though it made me vulnerable. “I’d like that,” I whispered.
Wyatt’s gaze turned molten. “To clarify, along with everything else, you would like me to bend you over and fuck you.” His eyes flicked to the table immediately beside us.
I swallowed and shifted on my feet. I was so restless to relieve the ache in my very core. My breath was audible because I was that desperate. “Please. Hurry…”
In a fiery second, his mouth was on mine.
His hands moved with knowledge and confidence.
Wyatt knew my body. He knew how to kindle the need inside me higher and higher.
There was something I loved about how he kind of manhandled me.
He wasn’t overpowering because that would’ve drawn up resistance in me.
He simply took command, and I surrendered to what I knew he would give me.
He nipped the side of my neck, and I whimpered as I arched into him. He unbuttoned my blouse with nimble fingers, his thumb brushing across my nipples through my bra before he boldly sucked one into his mouth right through the silk. The sensation was sharp and piercing, and I cried out.
My hands were doing their own work, mapping his chest under his shirt, dragging over his cock through his jeans. “Hurry,” I repeated.
I unbuttoned his jeans, and he shoved mine down around my hips before he turned me around to face the table. “Bend over, sweetheart.”
I would’ve done anything this man asked.
I bent over. The surface of the table was cool on my belly and breasts.
My jeans were tight just above my knees, creating a sense of friction between my thighs.
I cried out when his fingers delved into the core of me.
I was already slippery wet for him, only for him.
He murmured something before he withdrew his touch. I heard him say, “Oh, sweetheart.”
A moment later, I heard the sound of a condom wrapper, and again, I said, “Hurry.”
I couldn’t even think when I was with Wyatt. It was all pure need driving me.
I felt the thick press of his crown at my entrance. “Are you sure?” he asked.
As if there was any question.
“Yes, please fuck me,” I demanded.
I felt the press of his fingertips on one hip where he held me in place as he filled me in a swift thrust. I cried out, pressing back into the delicious stretch of him filling me.
His other palm slid up my back. I shimmied back again. “Please…”
His hand slid around my hip, and his fingers teased over my swollen clit as he pumped in and out of me in slow, rolling thrusts. I could hardly bear the friction of the motion with everything pressed tight as I bent over the table with my jeans banded around my knees.
Pleasure spun tighter and tighter, drawing deep to a point I could hardly bear.
I heard myself saying his name, begging again.
He finally created just a little more pressure over my clit.
Sensation rose to a crescendo before it shattered inside me, and I was crying his name as the pleasure spun through me again and again.
I felt him tightening before I heard my name in a ragged cry. He shuddered over me before he curled around me and held me close. I felt sated, safe, and secure.
“I think I love you, Rosie,” he whispered against my neck.
My heart thumped, crying out for me to voice my own feelings. I wasn’t ready, so I simply breathed.