Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Wynter
I was nestled in my queen bed with the covers to my ears. I was in a snug sleep top and shorts, my preferred sleepwear, and the AC was on but not pumping frigid air, yet I was burrowed into bed like I was in the middle of a blizzard with no heat.
I’m too old to behave like this. Was it the combination of being home, losing Daddy, the funeral tomorrow, and the storm?
Thunder cracked, and I jumped. Having my room downstairs was supposed to help muffle the noise, but my bedroom wasn’t a bunker.
God, Wynter! I rolled over and curled into a ball, my old stuffed ox, Bunyan, in my arms. I wasn’t normally this bad. Usually it was low-grade anxiety. I’d put on a movie, listen to music, or clean. I avoided driving in a storm, like when I was in Myles’s office, but here I was, shivering in bed.
It was two a.m., so I couldn’t clean without waking anyone. Same with music. My earbuds weren’t charged. I’d tried those already. Mama had been against TV in the bedrooms. I could go to the family room, but also I didn’t want to wake anyone up.
A low, steady rumble had been haunting me for twenty minutes, with strobes of lightning playing through the blinds, but the storm was close, growing louder.
Another peal of thunder rent the night.
I squeezed my eyes shut and put the blankets over my head. I was being childish, but if that’d get me through the storm, fuck it.
A weight pressed down on the bed. I whipped the blanket away from my face, a cry in my throat. A strong hand pressed over my mouth.
“Don’t be scared, Frosty.”
Myles. He’d snuck into my room, opening the door and shutting it, without me noticing. It was storming out, and he’d come to me.
I nodded, and he pulled his hand away.
“It’s stupid,” I whispered and put my stuffed animal next to my pillow. “But I can’t seem to not be a scaredy-cat.”
“It’s not stupid. It’s this week.”
And just like that, he understood. No explanations. He got it. Like he had before.
He pulled the blankets back and crawled in next to me. Already my anxiety was dipping to nonexistent levels. His warmth surrounded me, and yes, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“Are you naked?” I didn’t wait for an answer, but slid my hand down hard pecs to rippled abs to— Oh.
“No.” He flipped the blankets over us.
He wasn’t naked, but his basketball shorts weren’t holding back his erection. My fingertips played over the tip budging past the waistband.
“Fuck, Wynn.” He clamped a hand over my wrist. “I came here to distract you.”
“Are you going to read me a book?”
He paused, and I could imagine his half-amused expression. “My tongue will be busy.” He dipped his head closer to my ear. “Can you be quiet?”
“Yes.” The next thunder blast barely made me flinch as fire swept through my body, more electric than the lightning outside.
He kissed a path to my mouth and licked inside. I was centered on him. My eyes were closed and flashes of light made it through my lids, but I didn’t care about anything other than the man moving over me.
He released my mouth and moved his way down. I widened my legs to nestle his big body between my thighs. He skated my shirt up.
I tugged it over my head.
“I want you naked, too.” My room was dark, but the light from the storm highlighted his face as he hovered over my bare breasts with my peaked nipples straining upward.
He held my gaze as he took his shorts off, the bed dipping with his movement. He dropped a foil packet by my head on the pillow.
I loved a prepared man.
Then he dropped his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. I groaned, forgetting I had to be quiet, but fuck his mouth felt good. Starbursts of pleasure lit inside me in time with the shots of light through the room.
Too soon, he left my breasts and moved down. Forget nipple play. This was more everything. Memories of the way he’d bound me up and unraveled me on the plane flooded my veins with desire.
“Myles,” I said on a low moan.
He nudged my legs farther apart, hinging my knees up. “Hold on, and stay quiet, Wynn.”
“One day, we’re going to fuck where I can be really loud, and we can both be naked and sprawled across the bed—or counter—or against the wall.”
He gave me a neutral look, but heat burned in his eyes with startling intensity I could make out even in the shadows.
I was in trouble.
His hot breath wafted across my pussy.
The blanket fell to cover his head. I fisted my hands in the sheets. I could make out the peaks of my knees and the large bulge he made between my legs. A muted, yet erotic, sight.
He licked through my folds, his tongue soft but firm and oh so wickedly talented. This wasn’t the needy retaliation from the plane. He took his time, circling my clit with his tongue, dipping through my pussy and inside me.
“Oh god.” I should put a pillow over my face, but I’d miss the erotic shadow show.
Soft licks alternated with firm until I was on the brink.
The blanket quivered with the shaking of my knees.
Myles kept me on the edge longer than I’d ever experienced.
My breathing had turned to pants, and I squirmed so much trying to get more, to jump over the edge, but he clamped his hands on my ass and held me in place.
I was rocking, but if the bed squeaked, the sound was lost in the crash of the storm right on top of the house.
Too much pleasure filled me, chasing away any fear.
The strikes of lightning were strong, casting more light through the room. I lifted the blanket. He brought his gaze up to meet mine and continued lapping my clit.
“Oh god, Myles.” I dropped my head back and let go of the blanket.
A boom of thunder pushed me over the edge. I arched my back, digging my heels into the mattress. He continued, relentless, and I shattered.
I had to bite my lip. My hands were tangled in the blankets, and ecstasy rocked through me. He drank me up, using only his tongue to have me at his complete mercy.
Then he was crawling up my body. The stroke of his hot skin against mine kept my desire stoked to an overflowing level.
“I need you inside me,” I gasped.
He found the condom and ripped it open. Within seconds, he was at my entrance and thrusting inside. I forgot to be quiet. I cried out, and he captured the noise with his mouth, leaving me to whimper against him while he filled me so damn perfectly I could cry.
I needed this. I needed him. Storms scared me, and hollowed me out, like everything was getting taken away, but not with Myles.
He was in me, moving, angling to hit all the right spots, but not needing to try at all. Just being inside me was enough. He kissed down my neck, and his hot hands massaged my breasts. He took the other nipple in his mouth this time.
“Myles.” My whisper was supposed to convey everything, but I could only say his name. Fitting.
He released my flesh, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “I crave the way you come, Wynn.” The force of his thrusts grew. “I fucking love the way you taste. I could have you every night.”
He said there’d be nothing between us after he left, but I couldn’t believe it. Did he?
“What do you fucking do to me?” he growled and planted his hands beside me, swinging his hips.
Flashes of light turned us into a disjointed slideshow. Him on top of me. My knees bracketing his hips. The fall of his hair over his forehead.
I arched again, needing to be closer, like we could become one if we tried hard enough. Another peak built inside me as he pumped, my sensitized clit stroking against his body when he thrust inside.
He rested his thumb on my swollen nub. “Christ, Wynn. You’re so fucking responsive. Getting you off is my favorite damn thing.”
That was all I needed. All the building emotions and sensations slammed together inside me, creating their own explosion.
I cut off the cry as my mouth opened wide. I shook against him just as he went rigid, his strokes shortening. Then he threw his head back, his teeth gritted as he came.
I’d never forget this. I’d never forget that he’d thought about me when it stormed, that he’d come to check on me. And when the thunder prompted fear, I’d remember when he was buried deep inside me, and we were as close as we could possibly be.
I woke up alone, my body humming, satisfied and ready for the day. But also ready to find a sexy, naked man next to me.
He was not there.
But Bunyan had taken his place.
I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling. That man. He had a hold on me. He had since we were kids, but now? After getting to know the guy he’d turned into? Would he ever accept that there could be an us? That we could figure out how to be together?
Except I wanted to live in Montana. I had plans to live by Mama. I literally had the blueprints for the house I wanted to build. I had a job—one I loved, with family I loved even more.
But my feelings for Myles Foster grew stronger the more I was around him.
So maybe it was a good thing he was leaving.
He’d never said when. Tomorrow? After the weekend?
A small spear of panic wedged right next to my heart. What if he was gone? Just like when I was six, and he helped me get to sleep, and then he left?
No. He’d stay. For Daddy.
Would he ever stay for me?
As much as I didn’t want to move to Colorado and leave everything and everyone behind, he didn’t want to move to Montana for even stronger reasons. All of his bad memories were here.
I rolled out of bed and dressed in work clothes. It was early, the sun barely up, and we’d have to get the house ready for guests.
I strolled through the kitchen, made a PB&J, and went outside. The bright sun and a light wind would dry everything up. No one was coming out here until late afternoon. Myles, Teller, Tenor, and Summer were roaming the yard, picking up branches and small debris.
Myles gave me a dark, hooded look that turned all those branches he was raking into kindling. His green shirt was untucked, and he wore the same jeans from yesterday. The boots, though. I’d never tire of seeing him in cowboy boots.
Summer clapped her gloves together. “Wynter, wanna help me get the chairs from the shop? The guys will get the tables from the garage.”
Myles dropped his gaze, and I could breathe again. The air around me cooled.
In the musty shop, she turned to me. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” Did I look that bad?
“You sure? I slept through the storm, but it must’ve been bad.” She gestured out the shop door. “Teller said there was a ton of lightning. If I’d woken up, I’d have checked on you.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, and my face grew hot. “No, I made it through fine.” My voice was unnaturally high.
She narrowed her eyes on me, then her mouth fell open. Her shocked stare shot toward the door. I glanced over. Myles and my brothers were walking toward the garage. Three tall, rugged men.
She swung her attention back to me. “He read to you?”
I groaned. “He read so hard, Summer.” A small tremble ran through me, head to toe. She noticed, and I caved. “What am I going to do? I don’t know what last night meant, but he’s leaving, and I want to stay.”
She frowned, her brow furrowed as she thought. Grateful she wasn’t going into overprotective-older-sister mode, I waited.
“Do you have to stay?” she asked. “I mean, if he can’t leave his business, can’t you go there?”
And there was the rub. There was the issue that really bothered me. “He’s not asking me to.” Her questioning expression crumbled into sympathy, echoing what I felt. “He’s even said there’s no us after he leaves.”
“Oh, Wynter. You really like him.” She pulled me in for a hug.
I gave her a brief squeeze and pulled back. “I can’t get sad over him, Summer. Not today of all days. It’s going to be hard enough.”
She rapidly blinked away tears. Summer didn’t often lose her composure.
“Today isn’t going to suck. But the funeral sure is.
Then we’ll have the party Daddy would’ve wanted us to have.
” She gave me another hug, a hard, quick embrace that squeezed my lungs.
I was released to take another breath. “I hate funerals,” she said darkly and spun away to the stacks of chairs we had to set up for the reception.
Good thing the sleep I had gotten last night was solid, otherwise today would be hell. I had Myles to thank, and I wished I could cling just as tightly to him all day as I had last night.