25. Sally
CHAPTER 25
Sally
MIDNIGHTS
I’m hot.
I’m not in my bed.
I’m naked.
My body lurches into sudden consciousness. I open my eyes and am greeted by total darkness. The air is cold, tinged with the scent of a fire.
There was a fire because I’m at Wyatt’s house.
I’m in his bed.
His deliciously comfortable, insanely enormous king-size bed, which smells like sex.
Turning my head, I am just able to see the outline of the nearby fireplace. The fire in it has long since died. Did Wyatt put it out? What time did that happen? Last thing I remember is Wyatt using a washcloth to wipe his cum off my belly and breasts— oh my God —after we had sex for a second time. I think—hope—I went to the bathroom too?
Yes, I remember I did, and then we climbed into bed and he pulled me against him, the big spoon to my little spoon. I must’ve drifted off to sleep.
As if on cue, an arm tightens around my middle. Is Wyatt dreaming ?
My stomach dips, a quiet but insistent throb blooming to life between my legs as my senses blink awake. I wince. Despite that Advil I took, I’m definitely sore.
I’m definitely still wrapped up in Wyatt.
My throat tightens. I try to stay very still so I don’t wake him. Judging by the darkness outside the windows, it’s very late—or very early. Too early to be up, even on a ranch. Wyatt needs his sleep.
The sex. My God. It was so good that I’m struggling not to cry just thinking about it. How patient Wyatt was, how thorough and intense and tender .
It wasn’t fucking. It wasn’t even sex.
To me, it felt like making love. Which is a beautiful idea. Then again, I could be making things up. I don’t have tons of experience. But the way he insisted I take that Advil, the way he looked me in the eye as he patiently pushed inside me that first time?—
You’re not making anything up.
His skin is warm. I can feel the press of his wiry chest hair against my back as he breathes deeply, evenly, his breath rustling the hair at the nape of my neck.
I can also feel something wet on my lower back.
The throb between my legs blares when I realize that Wyatt is leaking.
Not only that. He’s hard.
This man is an animal. The only animal I’ve ever encountered that I can’t wrangle. Wrong that I love that about him?
He’s awake.
He presses a quiet, hot kiss to my shoulder. A full-body shock wave of need moves through me, my breath catching as his mouth works its way up the column of my neck.
How did I get so turned on while I was sleeping? Because I am ready to go after a single kiss.
Reaching behind me, I find him and wrap my fingers around his length. He’s definitely hard, hot to the touch, and I slick my thumb over his head before giving him a slow, easy pull.
In reply, Wyatt cups my breast in one hand and glides the other underneath my rib cage and then between my legs. I see stars when he plucks my nipple at the same time he parts me with his fingers.
The caress is gentle, a little sleepy even, but my body still comes to life at his touch. He lets out a quiet groan when his fingers find my slickness. He circles my clit once, twice, and it feels so good that I roll over to face him and lift my leg, draping it over his hip. I take his dick in my hand and guide it to my center.
He hesitates. You sure?
I press my hips down so that he slips inside me. I’m sure .
Then he’s rolling his big body on top of mine. I’m on my back, spread-eagled, when he impales me on a deep, unhurried thrust, sinking to the root.
I close my eyes against a blinding flash of pain.
Reading me like a book, Wyatt goes still. He leans his forehead against mine and waits one heartbeat, then another, before he thrusts again, gentler this time.
The pain dissipates. Pleasure rises in its wake.
I’m close, and I want to come with him inside me, so I snake a hand between us and play with myself.
Wyatt blows out a breath. I circle my hips, meeting him at the apex of his strokes. He still goes slow, just deeper now. He’s steady. Controlled. I run my free hand over his chest, his stomach, his side, marveling at the way the huge muscles there bunch and release as he moves.
He is so fucking sexy.
I don’t chase my orgasm for long. I find it when Wyatt casually throws my leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. It hurts.
It’s the best thing I’ve felt in my entire life.
My fingers make shallow, rapid circles over my clit as the release washes over me. My heartbeat dissolves into my skin, racing, throbbing.
Wyatt grunts, and then I feel the now-familiar sensation of being filled with warmth.
When he pulls out of me, a rush of cum seeps from the place where our bodies were joined.
He doesn’t say a word when he kisses my mouth.
Not a word when he helps me out of bed and cleans me up with a towel after I use the bathroom.
Really, is there anything left for us to say that our bodies haven’t?
It’s still dark when a sound wakes me.
I hear a soft rustling, and when my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see Wyatt’s hand working underneath the covers.
I can’t help but smile, even as my heart twists. He doesn’t want to wake me. And I know he’s worried that I’ll be too sore to go for another round.
Grinning, I gently toss aside the covers and swat his hand away. Then I lean in and take him into my mouth. He growls, dropping an arm over his face as he lets out a series of discombobulated sounds.
When his hips start to jerk, I sit up and straddle his pelvis. I hold his hand, using it for support as I sink slowly onto his cock.
He twines our fingers when I take him to the hilt with a small cry. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
You’re okay. We’re okay.
He puts his other hand on my hip and guides my body up and down, up and down, a slow rhythm that gradually gets faster and faster until I’m riding him hard.
I’m not sure I can take more.
But I know I’ll always, always want more with Wyatt.
The backs of my eyelids burn red.
Sunlight. A lot of it.
Oh my God, how late did I sleep ?
Opening my eyes, I sit up with a start. The shutters are closed, but ardent sunshine pours through the slats anyway, coating Wyatt’s bedroom in a golden glow I can only describe as autumn coziness at its best.
Glancing at his side of the bed, I see that he’s gone. The door is closed. Was he called into work?
Shit, what if I got a call for work? I didn’t think to set an alarm since it’s the weekend, but I don’t need to when I’m staying at my parents’ house because Dad is around. He’ll wake me up if someone needs me.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and flip it over. My stomach somersaults when I see that it’s ten o’clock .
When was the last time I slept this late?
When was the last time I was up so late? Yes, I got sleep, but it was broken sleep. I had no idea you could be so turned on that it wakes you up in the dead of night. That’s never happened to me before.
Then again, I’ve never slept with Wyatt Rivers before.
I sit up and the sheets fall, catching on my breasts. I feel a slight burning sensation there. Looking down, I see red marks on my chest, my boobs, even my stomach.
Beard burn.
Wyatt kissed me literally everywhere last night, and Lord, does it show. Between him coming all over me and now the beard burn, there’s not an inch of my body Wyatt hasn’t left his mark on.
The thought makes me weirdly emotional. It also turns me on in a big, big way.
Glancing at my screen, I’m relieved to see I haven’t missed any calls or important texts. I did get an email from my adviser at Ithaca University, however, which I should probably read?—
“Mornin’.”
I look up, and my heart falls a hundred stories when I see Wyatt standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a pair of broken-in Wranglers, and…that’s it.
Not a shirt. No hat. Not even a sock.
His bare torso is a sight to behold. Whorls of dark blond hair cover his barrel of a chest, narrowing to a happy trail that disappears into his jeans. His thick abdominal muscles slope into sculpted hips that form a very distracting V shape.
And his arms. My God, this man’s arms . His biceps bulge, putting his tattoos on prominent display. Thick veins run down the inside of his elbows and spread out along forearms the size of Wiffle bats.
He’s also got a raging case of bedhead. His thick hair is rumpled, sticking up every which way in a kind of ragged golden halo that’s somehow both adorable and sexy.
But it’s the mugs of steaming coffee he holds in his hands that really make my pulse skip a beat. The velvety smell fills the room, and for several seconds I can only stare, phone falling from my hand onto the bed with a soft thunk .
One side of his mouth kicks up in a smirk as he strides into the room.
“Lose your voice from yellin’ my name so much last night?”
Laughter bubbles up inside me, and I resist the urge to grab him by the throat and have my way with him right here, right now.
“If memory serves, you were the one yelling mine.”
“You surprised by that, Mustang Sally?” He holds out one of the mugs. “All you wanna do is ride.”
I’m so in love with you I can’t breathe, I think, even as I keep laughing .
All this smiling, this laughing, this longing—it fucking hurts, it’s so good.
I take the mug from him. “Please don’t start calling me that.”
“Nah. I like Sunshine better.”
His eyes meet mine. A beat of heated silence passes between us as those eyes flick to my bare torso. My nipples pebble beneath his attention—a fact he seems to notice because his nostrils flare.
“I like you in my bed.”
I bring the coffee to my lips. “I like being in your bed.”
“Stay.”
“You see me going anywhere?”
He sips his coffee before setting the mug on the bedside table. My body leaps when he sits on the mattress beside me. He frowns when he sees the red marks on my chest. “You hurtin’?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I liked it, Wyatt.”
He gently takes my breast in his hand. His eyes darken, taking on a feral glint. “And between your legs?”
“A little sore. Nothing”—my breath catches when he thumbs my nipple—“too bad.”
His jaw tics. “What would I find right now if I touched you there? Same as last time? The time before that?”
I nod, momentarily losing the ability to form words as he continues to stroke my nipple. Heat bolts through me, gathering in my clit.
“Can I—will you?—”
His smirk is back. “You want me to touch you there?”
I nod. Wyatt takes the coffee from my hands. I reach for his jeans, but he pushes away my hand.
“You said you’re sore. Let’s give your body a little break, yeah?”
I keep nodding. He adjusts the front of his jeans.
“But you’re?— ”
“Don’t worry, I got plans for that. But first, you.” He grins.
At what point do I tell Wyatt how I feel?
When can I ask him to marry me? Does he want to get married? Sawyer says he might.
Is it weird I’m thinking about that? Or am I crazy to believe the sex we’re having—the date we enjoyed, the connection between us—is special? The kind of once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to build a life with someone who gets it ? Gets you?
Also, how does he look so hot when he lifts the covers and climbs onto the bed, settling himself comfortably on his belly with his head between my legs?
Putting his hands on the back of my thighs just underneath my ass, he spreads me wide. Then he looks me in the eye and says, “I’m gonna make you come. Then I’ll feed you. Then I’m gonna take you home.”
My heart falls. Scrunching my brow, I dig my fingers into his wild hair. I’m feeling just brave enough to say, “What if I don’t want to go home?”
“You have to go home if you’re gonna get what you need for the week.” Then he bends his neck and kisses my clit.
I yelp, my heart flitting around my chest like a hummingbird. “What do you—I don’t understand. Stay for the week? Like, stay here?”
He lifts his head, eyebrows snapping together. “You think I’m lettin’ you outta my bed after how good last night was? Sunshine, I’m still weak in the knees.”
I’m smiling, and Wyatt is dipping his tongue inside me, and there’s a soaring feeling inside my chest. Like I’m the hummingbird now, suspended in the air.
“So you’re asking me to stay over all week.”
“Telling you, more like it.” But his eyes meet mine, and I see the question in them.
I giggle .
I giggle like a fucking teenager because what else can I do but give in to the silliness, the joy, that I feel right now?
“I’ll stay.”
“You’d better. But I got one condition. A request actually.”
“Anything.”
“Much as I hate to say it, I do have to let you out of my bed so you can sleep in yours. Just for tonight.”
I scrunch my brow. “So you?—”
“Want you to sleep at your parents’ tonight. Yeah. Trust me, I ain’t crazy about the idea either. But it’s important to me that your parents see I’m doing right by you. Feels a little disrespectful to kidnap you right off the bat. They’ll think we’re having a nonstop fuck fest.”
“But we are having a nonstop fuck fest.”
He smirks. “Just one night. That’s all I’m asking. This way, you’ll have more time to pack. And you bet I’ll be on your doorstep first thing tomorrow to bring you back here.”
I don’t want to leave. But I love that Wyatt is trying to do the right thing here. If we are going to be together for the long haul, we’ll have plenty of time for more sex.
I nod. “Okay. Just one night.”
“Just one night. Then you’re all mine.”
He flashes me a handsome smile of white teeth and full lips, and it’s in that moment when I know—I know —I’m not gonna be able to leave this man at the end of December.
Maybe—
Hell, maybe I won’t.