Chapter 9 Wyatt
NINE
Wyatt
No one said a word about noises from my house last night…not about Haven calling in, not about me failing to show up for breakfast.
And that was a relief—until she showed up early.
I heard the crunch of gravel around back at half past five and looked up from the water trough I was fixing to find Haven walking in—hands in her pockets, wearing a pair of jeans with a UTSA hoodie.
Her hair was down around her shoulders when it was normally up for work; it looked good on her, light brown strands spilling down over the hood, nearly down to her waist.
I took a look around to make sure no one was around, but I still didn’t feel as comfortable as I wanted to.
“You’re early,” I grunted as she got close enough.
“I finished my homework.” She stopped a few feet away, almost like she knew how much it made my skin crawl when she talked about homework. She was too young. Too fuckin’ young. “Didn’t feel like hanging out at home. For what it’s worth I did already drop my stuff off at your place…”
I looked up at her, and her hazel eyes sparked with mischief. She was messing with me.
Feisty girl.
“Gage only just went back to the house,” I said. “Dakota’s in the stable with Maverick, might be there for another couple hours. Really wanted you to wait until after dark.”
“I was quiet.”
“But someone could see your car. See you here.”
She shrugged. “Oops.”
I let out a harsh laugh and shook my head, then dried my hands off before turning to face her. Yeah…she was definitely fucking with me—sly smile, glittering eyes, a challenge on her face clear as day.
I knew what she wanted.
I crossed the barn in about four steps and backed her up against the wall net to the tack room, extending one arm to box her in. Haven sucked in a breath and looked up at me like she wasn’t even remotely sorry.
“Gotta be careful,” I said, close enough that my breath disturbed a lock of hair. “Lots of gossips live on this property.”
“They’re your family,” she laughed.
“That’s how I know,” I said. I ducked my head to drag my lips over her pulse, and she arched just slightly. “You were bad, Haven.”
Her breath caught.
“Showing up before you’re supposed to…” I went on. “Making me deal with you out here where anyone could walk in.”
“Then maybe you should take me somewhere they won’t.”
“Maybe I should send you home.”
“You’re not going to send me home.”
She was right, damn it. I especially wasn’t going to send her home now, with her smelling like roses and sugar cookies and just the barest hint of sex.
I kissed her instead of answering.
She made a small sound and grabbed my jacket, then I was walking her backward into the tack room—kicking the door shut, pushing my tongue past her lips, swallowing her moans. The lights were low, just a hint of sunset filting through the rafters, the smell of leather and hay all around us.
I stopped thinking about Dakota in the stable or Gage and MIllie in the house or Forrest in the cottage.
Stopped thinking about anything but us.
I turned her to face the saddle rack and she went easy, hands finding the worn wood as I pressed up against her back. My lips found her neck and she shivered with her whole body, fingers so tight on the saddle rack that her knuckles went white.
“You’re in trouble,” I murmured against her skin.
“I know,” she gasped—still not sorry at all.
I reached around and unbuttoned her jeans. Haven sucked in a breath as my hand slid underneath them, under her panties, finding her clit swollen and her pussy soaked. I groaned, rocking my hips against her so she could feel me—how hard I already was, how bad I wanted her.
“You’re really in trouble,” I chuckled.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she rushed out. “All day. Wanting this—oh god—”
I pressed two fingers inside her and she held on tight to the saddle rack as I worked her, her hips rocking against my hands. My fingers curled and she gasped, and I kept my pace slow and steady, working her until her thighs were shaking and her breath was coming in sharp little bursts.
Close—she was close.
I pulled my fingers out.
She groaned in frustrated and looked over her shoulder at me. Her hazel eyes had gone dark and desperate and gorgeous, a little angry. I loved that fucking look on her.
“That’s for the oops,” I said.
"Wyatt—"
I pressed back in and she dropped her head and I worked her right back up to the edge and stopped again and she smacked the saddle rack with her palm.
"You're the worst," she breathed.
"You showed up forty minutes early."
"I will leave—"
"No you won't."
She laughed despite herself, frustrated and breathless, and I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and felt her shiver.
Third time I brought her to the edge she grabbed my wrist.
"Please," she said. Low. Serious now. "I want you. Please, just—I want to feel you. I need you inside me.”
I slowed my fingers…kept working her, just a little, couldn’t stop.
“I don’t have a condom out here,” I murmured.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Just…just pull out. Just pull out and—”
She paused, a blush painting her cheeks.
I caught her chin. “And what, Haven?”
She bit her lip. “Just…just come on me.”
I let out a harsh exhale.
How was I supposed to say no to that?
I kept my hand on her and used my other hand to reach between us and unbutton my jeans, then yank down the zipper. My cock was hard as a fucking rock when I pulled it out of my boxers, and I rushed to pull her pants down just enough to bare her ass.
I pressed my cock between her thighs…felt her pussy clenching, searching for me.
Eased in.
“Christ,” I cursed. I’d thought she felt good with a condom, but this…? She was so fucking wet, so hot, and the friction and clench—
“Oh god,” she groaned, too loud. “Oh god, oh god…”
“You gotta be quiet, baby,” I growled in her ear.
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.
“I can’t—”
I pulled my fingers away from her clit and shoved them in her mouth—and she sucked them in without a moment’s hesitation, sucking her own juices off my fingers.
She was perfect. She was perfect, and I thought this was just an arrangement, but I wanted to fuck this woman for the rest of my life—
I grabbed her hip and started to move.
No easing into it. No soft and gentle, not this time. Just Haven braced against the saddle rack and the slick heat of her and the specific filthy sound of it in the quiet tack room. I was so gon I couldn’t think past the next thrust and the next, curled around her, fucking her hard.
She sucked on my fingers and I drove deeper and she clenched and I had to stop and breathe through it.
"Haven—"
She moaned around my fingers.
I pulled them free and smacked her ass cheek, then set a piece that had her knees shaking. She buried her face in her arm and the sound she made was muffled but I felt it—felt it in the way she tightened around me, the way her whole body shook with the effort of staying quiet.
I did it again.
Same result.
She pushed back harder, taking more, hips rolling to meet me, and I watched my hands on her—one gripping the curve of her waist, fingers pressed into the soft skin there, the other coming down again light on her ass—and thought about the parking lot two nights ago, Haven with her back against the limestone wall asking me for one thing.
Just a kiss, she'd said.
I drove into her and she grabbed the saddle rack and the leather smell of the tack room and the warm animal smell of the barn and the specific sound of her—muffled and desperate and trying so hard to stay quiet—all of it hit me at once and I tightened my grip and kept going and felt her start to shake.
She reached back and grabbed my thigh. Just held on.
That small thing.
That one small thing and I was done for in a way that had nothing to do with the sex and everything to do with Haven Sinclair, who showed up forty minutes early and asked me to come on her like she already knew I couldn't say no.
She clenched around me and I smacked her again and she grabbed the saddle rack harder.
"You feel so fucking good," I gritted out. "Every time. Every single time—"
"Wyatt—"
"I know." I drove deeper and she choked on a sound. "I know, baby."
She reached back and grabbed my thigh and I covered her hand with mine for a second—just that, just our hands—and then I straightened up and gripped her hip and gave her everything I had.
"Been thinking about this all day," I said roughly. "Can't stop thinking about you, Haven, can't—"
She clenched so hard I lost the thought entirely.
"Please," she breathed. "Please, I'm so close—"
"Yeah." I reached around and found her clit and felt her whole body jolt. "Come on then."
She shook apart with a groan and I had to pull out at the last minute to stop from coming inside her—taking myself in hand and shooting all over her pretty ass instead.
Neither of us moved for a long moment.
Haven's forehead dropped to her arms on the saddle rack, her whole body still shaking through the aftershocks. I cleaned her up with my shirt tail and she made a small satisfied sound and didn't lift her head.
"You okay?" I said.
"Mm." A pause. "Better than okay."
I tucked myself back in and leaned against the wall and looked at her—hair everywhere, jeans still pushed down, cheeks flushed—and felt something move through me that wasn’t at all appropriate. None of this was.
She finally lifted her head and looked back at me over her shoulder.
"Hi," she said.
I couldn’t help but smile at her. "Hi."
She smiled back. Small and private and just for me, and I felt it like a fist around my heart.
Then her stomach growled.
She blushed.
I frowned. “You eaten?”
"You eaten?" I asked.
"I was going to eat after."
"After what?"
She gestured vaguely at the tack room.
I shook my head and moved closer to her so I could finish cleaning her up, right her clothes. I turned her around and that was the biggest mistake I could have made—because she was face to face with me then, cheeks flushed, her eyes so fucking pretty…
I brushed her hair back from her face.
“Don’t want you getting hungry on my account,” I said. “Let’s get back to the house—shower up, I’ll make you some dinner.”
Her tongue slid across her lips. “So this is a dinner date?”
“It’s not a date.”
“Right,” she said, but she didn’t look convinced. “It’s just dinner.”
“Just dinner.” I scowled, stepping back. “Come on, then. Let’s get you fed.”