“I noticed,” he says and squeezes my hand. “And I’m thankful.”
“Last night wasn’t typical for me,” I inform him. “Seriously, I don’t jump on random strangers.”
“Good to know.”
“In fact, I hadn’t had sex in a long time.”
“How long?”
“A long time.”
His lips twitch. “Come on, that’s subjective. It could be a week, or it could be ten years.”
“More than a week, but less than ten years.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“How long had it been for you? And if you say hours, I will leave you right now.”
He laughs now, rubbing his hand over his face, and making me laugh, too.
“More than a year,” he says. “I don’t know the exact date, but it’s been a while. My brothers were just ribbing me about it the other night.”
“So maybe we were just scratching an itch.”
His eyes sober, watching me as the waitress arrives and sets our food in front of us.
“Do you need anything else?” she asks.
Wyatt’s eyes don’t leave mine as he replies. “No, thanks.”
She walks away, and neither of us moves. “I don’t think I was just scratching an itch,” Wyatt says.
“No?”
He shakes his head slowly, and huge butterflies take flight in my stomach. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was giddy.
“Okay.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not sure.” I tilt my head to the side as if I’m thinking it over. “Maybe we should scratch again, to see if there is an itch or if it’s just chemistry.”
“I like your smart mouth.”
I lift my fork and dig into my salad. “That’s good because it isn’t going anywhere. And it might end up wrapped around you later.”
He chokes on his tea, and I smile smugly while I chew my lettuce, waiting for him to recover.
“You okay?”
“You’re going to be the death of me.” He wipes his mouth with his napkin.
“Quite possibly.” I nod and take another bite of salad, enjoying his company and the banter.
“How long have you lived in Seattle?” Wyatt asks, clearly changing the subject.
“I technically don’t,” I reply with a frown. “I grew up here, but I’ve been living in L.A. for about five years.”
“So why are you living here now?”
“Well, there’s some last strings to tie up with my ex, and my lawyer thought it would be good for me to have a change of scenery. Plus, I haven’t been home in a long while, so it made sense.”
“Your divorce is fresh then?”
“Technically, yes, but we’ve been separated for several years, so the end of the relationship isn’t fresh at all.”
He nods. “Did he cheat?”
“No, actually. And, before you ask, I didn’t either. He didn’t like what I did for a living. He said it was stupid, that the people who followed me were ridiculous because I don’t have anything to offer them.”
“So, he’s a dick.”
“Big time,” I reply. “I think he was jealous that I was getting attention, and he definitely didn’t like that I was beginning to make a living off of the way I look. Which sounds ridiculous.”
“No, I get what you mean.”
“But, I love it. And he couldn’t support it. It turned verbally abusive, and finally, one day, I said enough. I’m out. And I never looked back.”
“Am I a jerk if I say thank God?”
“No.” I laugh and take another bite of my salad. “I say that all the time. And, frankly, I’m pretty happy that your ex was a cheater. Because I wouldn’t be sitting here with you otherwise, and I’ve laughed more today than I have in a long time.”
“Me, too,” he says, setting his plate aside and reaching for my hand again. “Do you have plans for the rest of the day?”
“I do need to edit the video and upload it, so just a little work. But other than that, I’m free until girls’ night out on Friday.”
A slow smile spreads across his handsome face. “Perfect. How about I drop you at home so you can work, and I’ll go do the same for a bit, and then I’ll cook you dinner?”
“You cook?” I stare at him, shocked. “Like, more than macaroni and cheese?”
“Well, I won’t make that now,” he replies, making me laugh again. “Yes, I cook. I’m a single guy. If I don’t cook, I starve.”
“Or go out to eat all the time,” I reply, already looking forward to seeing him later. “What time should I come over?”
“Six? Or whenever you’re done with work. You can earn your keep and look beautiful in my kitchen.”
“It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”
He pays the bill, and leads me out to his car, then drives me home.
“You could have parked in your own driveway,” I say as I step out of his vehicle.
“I’m taking you home from a date,” he reminds me. “And if you walked home from my driveway, I couldn’t do this.”
He pins me against the front door and leans down, one hand on my hip, the other caging me in. His lips graze over my cheek on their way to my mouth, and then I’m plunged into the sexiest after-date kiss on record.
My hands push under his shirt to his warm, smooth skin and hold on tight as his mouth plunders mine.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmurs against me. “Come right over when you’re finished working.”
It’s not a question. I nod and reach behind me for the doorknob, and sigh when I remember it’s locked. I turn away from him to quickly unlock it, but of course, I can’t get the key in the stupid hole, and I feel like a bumbling idiot.
Wyatt takes the little piece of metal from my fingers and helps me.
“Okay.” I swallow hard. “I’ll see you soon.”
I step inside, close the door, and lean against it, willing my breathing to slow down.
Wyatt is one sexy man.
~Wyatt~
I’ve looked at the same email four times in a row, and I couldn’t tell you what it says if my life depended on it.
I can’t get a certain sexy blonde out of my head. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s smart and funny. Honest.
Honesty is imperative.
I lived with a liar for more years than I should have. I won’t do it again.
No, Amelia is a breath of fresh air.
I shut the laptop and walk into the kitchen. I haven’t shopped in a few days, but there should be something here that I can whip together.
Just when I’m staring at the salad stuff, not impressed because we had a salad for lunch, the doorbell rings.
It’s four thirty.
“Hey,” Amelia says when I open the door. “I know I’m early, but you said—”
Before she can finish the statement, I pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her, leaving us both breathless.
“You were saying?”
“I have no idea,” she says with a laugh. I take her hand and lead her into the kitchen, where she sits on a stool and sets her phone on the countertop.
“Did you get your work done?” I ask.
“Yes, the video is uploaded; I’m just waiting for it to go live, so I’ll keep an eye on my phone for a minute. I also went through and replied to comments on last week’s video, then replied to people on social media.”
“That’s a lot of people interaction.”
“Totally. But it’s fun. I’d say ninety percent of the people who engage with me are nice.”
“And the other ten percent?”
“Oh, they’re creepers, mean girls, trolls. I skip over those. They used to really hurt my feelings or make me mad, but now I don’t give them any energy.”
“There’s the optimism again.”
She grins, her beautiful face lighting up. Her eyes are crazy blue. Brighter than the sky.
“I can’t be depressed ever
y day because people I don’t know don’t like me.”
“Well, no. You can’t.” I lean on the counter and watch her, enjoying having her in my house.
“So, what are you making for dinner?” she asks.
I smile. “I’m not sure. My supplies are lower than I thought, so I’ll probably just order from Uber Eats, if that works.”
“You mean, I don’t get to try out your stellar cooking skills?”
“Next time.”
“Fine by me,” she says with a shrug and then checks her phone. “Oh, there it is. I’m going to watch the first couple of minutes to make sure it’s okay.”
She presses play, and her voice comes out of the phone. Amelia is scrutinizing the screen, listening intently. After a short few minutes, she stops it and nods. “Not bad.”
“I think it’s pretty awesome.”
“Thanks.” She gets lost in tapping on her phone and scrolling, and then she finally turns off the phone and tosses it into her bag. “There. I’m not working any more this evening.”
“Me neither.”
“Did you get some work done, too?” she asks and props her chin in her hand.
“A little.” I lean across from her, my arms folded over my chest. “Should we look through our options on the app?”
“I’m still fine from lunch,” she says. “Do you mind if we wait a bit?”
“Nope.” I push away from the counter and saunter over to her. She turns in her seat, fully facing me, looking up at me with happy, blue eyes.
My cock’s been hard for her all damn day.
“How’s it going?” she asks with a grin.
“I’m having a good day,” I reply, cupping her face in my hands. I lean in to rest my lips against hers before brushing them back and forth lightly. “You?”
“Same,” she says. Her hands make their way under my shirt, her fingertips brushing against the skin just above the waistband of my jeans. “I’m just the right height right now.”
“For what?”
She pulls the button free on my jeans and pushes my T-shirt up my torso so she can lean in and press her lips to my stomach.
“Fun things,” she says. “But I need you to take this off for me.”
Only an idiot would ask why. I reach over my head and pull off the shirt, tossing it aside, and she gets back to work, kissing and touching me. She slips one finger under the waistband of my jeans and drags it back and forth, barely skimming the top of my cock with each pass.
“You’re long,” she comments, the words making me harder. “I like it.”
“Glad to oblige,” I reply with a laugh and then suck my breath in when she unzips my jeans and exposes me, then licks the head slowly. “Fucking hell, Amelia.”
“I don’t usually like it when people call me by my whole name,” she says, casually checking out my dick. “But it’s sexy when you say it.”
With that, she takes the whole tip into her mouth and makes a pulsing motion with her cheeks, making my damn eyes cross.
Is there a volcano erupting right now? Or is that just me?
“Jesus.” I push my fingers through her hair and grip her head. Not to try and guide her movements, but to have something to hold onto. “That feels amazing.”
She hums against me and sinks lower, pulling more of me inside her mouth. She’s shimmied my jeans over my hips, exposing more of me, and her small, magical hands are taking an exploratory journey over my skin that might make me come far faster than I’d like to.
“If you keep touching me like that . . . God, Lia.”
She smiles and keeps going, touching me, licking me. Finally, she sinks as far as she can and swallows around me, milking my cock.
How did I never get the blowjob of my life until I was in my thirties?
She begins to jack me off, and I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m going to come, Amelia. If you don’t want me to—”
But she shakes her head, holding and sucking harder, and I explode into her mouth, crying out her name.
When she’s finished licking me clean, I pick her up, set her on the countertop, and rip her pretty pink panties in two, tossing them aside.
“You have a thing for ripping my clothes,” she mutters but smiles as she pushes her fingers into my hair. “And I didn’t bring the condoms.”
“Don’t need one,” I reply breathlessly as I spread her wide and lean in to press my mouth to her center. I glide my hand up her stomach, over the thin sundress she’s wearing, between her breasts, and urge her back onto her elbows. She props her feet on my shoulders, opening herself to me.
I sit back and take her in. It’s not dark this time, and I can clearly see every delectable inch of her.
“So pink,” I murmur, pushing my finger through her wet lips. “Responsive.” She’s clean-shaven. I can see her begin to swell, wanting me to fill her.
But not yet.
“Holy shit,” she mutters, clenching her eyes closed.
“Watch.”
She shakes her head back and forth, so I stop, and she frowns down at me.
“I said watch.”
I push two fingers inside of her and press my thumb to her clit, and she tenses up. “Look at the way your muscles contract.”
“Too much,” she mutters, but I don’t stop. “Want you in me.”
“No way. I’m going to make your legs shake, baby.”
She chuckles as if she doesn’t believe me, but when I press my lips to her clit again, pushing my fingers against her inner walls, her legs do begin to spasm.
“What the hell?” she cries out as she comes around my fingers, against my mouth. “Holy fuck.”
She’s lying completely against the countertop now, her back arched, as the orgasm travels through her, and fucking hell if she isn’t a joy to watch as she falls apart.
“My God,” she mutters, catching her breath. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
I smirk and kiss her inner thighs, then up her stomach before helping her to a sitting position. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in for a sweet hug.
“Are you okay?” I murmur against her cheek, then kiss just below her ear.
“Totally okay. I just can’t move yet.” She snuggles against me, holding on tightly as her breathing slows further, and our bodies calm. “I’m super hungry.”
“We can find some food on the app,” I reply, kissing her head and then pulling away.
“Okay.” She kisses my chin. “But first, how about a tour of this beautiful house?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I take her hand in mine and lead her upstairs first, to show her the bedrooms and the killer view.
“Wow,” she breathes as she steps out onto the balcony off my bedroom. “This view.”
“It’s what sold me on the house,” I reply and join her at the railing, watching sailboats pass on the Sound. “You must have a similar view.”
“I do, but it always takes my breath away.” She’s leaning on the railing, the wind blowing the hair back from her face, and she seems perfectly content here. “If this was mine, I’d live out here.”
“I use it quite a bit. My backyard faces the same way, but the view is better up here.”
She smiles up at me, and I can’t help myself. I cup her face in my hand and kiss her softly, just soaking her in. “Should we keep going?”
“Sure.”
I lead her back through my room, show her the bathroom, and when I move to walk down the hallway, she doesn’t follow.
“What’s up?”
“This bathtub is insane,” she says, running her fingertip along the rim of the tub.
“You’ll have to take a dip in it sometime.”
“Hell, yes,” she whispers and then turns to take in the rest of the room. “There’s lots of storage in here.”
“I had this whole room remodeled before I moved it. It hadn’t been updated in about twenty years.”
“Well, you did a good job.
” She smiles as she follows me down the hallway, and I show her the guest rooms, then take her back downstairs to my office near the front door.
“No wonder you noticed me when I moved in. Your office faces my place.”
I lean on the doorjamb and watch her saunter around my space, casually touching my pencils, my chair, looking at the books on the shelves.
She’s damn sexy in my office.
“You went to Harvard?”
I smile and nod, enjoying her.
“Fancy,” she says with a smile. Her blue eyes are bright and happy as she makes her way back over to me. “I like your space. It’s bright and cheerful, but still masculine.”
“Thank you.”
She wraps her arms around my stomach and hugs me, resting her cheek on my chest. When was the last time I felt this comfortable with a woman?
Years.
I glance up and frown at the sight of someone pulling into her driveway. “Hey, look.”
She turns around and frowns, then her whole body tightens up.
“Crap. It’s my mom.” She props her hands on her hips. “And my sister.”
She looks up at me with apologetic eyes. “I think I’d better go see them.”
“Let’s go.”
She frowns. “You definitely don’t need to come with me.”
“Unless you don’t want me to, yes, I do. I’m having dinner with you, remember?”
She bites her lower lip, which only makes my dick twitch, and then shrugs one shoulder. “Okay, follow me.”
I follow her across the street and am surprised at the family dynamic that unfolds in front of me.
“Hey, Mom,” Amelia says, resignation ringing in her voice as she folds the older woman in for a hug.
“There you are,” the older version of Amelia says. “You’ve been in town for days, and I haven’t seen you.”
“I know, I’m sorry, it’s been busy.”
“Too busy to call?”
Amelia glances over at me and gestures my way. “This is Wyatt. He’s my neighbor, and he’s been nice enough to befriend me. Wyatt, this is my mom, Sherri, and my sister, Anastasia.”
Sherri’s face immediately breaks out into a wide grin, and she holds her hand out for mine.
“Well, hello, Wyatt,” Sherri says.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I reply, and then turn to Anastasia, who seems a bit more reserved. She’s beautiful, like her sister, but more simple. No makeup, casual clothes. “Hi, Anastasia.”
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