“It’s not that bad. The kid was probably only about twenty-seven years younger than you.”
I scoffed, glaring at him and trying not to laugh. Wyatt grinned broadly, waiting until I burst out laughing.
“Alright, smart ass. You’re probably right. But you don’t need to rub it in.”
Wyatt laughed with me, keeping his arm around my waist. We skated together, well, I shuffled, around the rink, dodging couples like us and moving out of the way of speed skaters. Wyatt kept me laughing, telling stories about growing up.
“You really liked being the oldest, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Definitely. I wouldn’t have been able to torture my brother and sister as much if they were older than me.”
“Did they ever give it back to you?”
“Nope. Even now, when we get together every week, it’s like they’re waiting for me to play some trick on them.”
“Every week?” I blurted.
Wyatt nodded. “Absolutely. I love my family. My parents still live in the house I grew up in and we all go over there Sunday afternoon. Of course, this time of year we’re watching football. Or arguing about football, really.”
He laughed to himself, thinking about his family. I didn’t know anyone who was that close to their family. God knew I wasn’t. As soon as I was old enough to leave, I was gone. Vicki following me wasn’t really the plan, but I loved my sister. Even if she was a constant reminder that she was the favorite daughter.
“Are you going to visit your parents for Christmas?” Wyatt asked, bringing me back.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t usually.”
“Really? You can’t be working on Christmas, are you?”
I nodded. “I pick up the on-call shift for one of the practices I partner with. They help me out when I need an extra set of hands, so I take the Christmas shifts so they can be with their families.”
“When’s the last time you went home?”
I shrugged. “I can’t really remember,” I lied. He didn’t really want to know about my rocky past with my parents. We were having fun, not getting involved.
“What does your family do for Christmas?” I asked, hoping it would get him talking again.
He grinned, and I knew it worked.
“We always get together on Christmas Eve. My dad has three sisters so we go to one of my aunt’s houses so we can see the extended family. The kids get presents and the adults trade bottles of alcohol.”
“How many of you are there?”
He laughed. “A ton. I have seven first cousins. Everyone except me is married, which makes it a little frustrating to dodge questions about when I’m going to settle down. There’s eleven kids, I think? No thirteen now. Two more of my cousins had kids this year.”
“Wow, big family.”
“Yeah. It gets crazy when we all get together. But it’s awesome. You should come.”
I stopped, facing him on the ice. “Won’t that mess with your whole ‘I’m single and I love it’ thing?”
Wyatt laughed and shook his head. “We’re friends. And if you’re in town, you shouldn’t spend Christmas alone.”
“I’m not. Olivia invited us over to her house.”
“This is Christmas Eve. When are you going to Olivia’s?”
“Um, Christmas Day.”
“Then you should come with me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Family things really aren’t for me.”
“Oh. Sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
He turned to keep skating, leaving me to feel like garbage for brushing him off. “Wyatt, wait.”
He smiled. “It’s fine, Peyton. I’m not trying to change things between us. I just wanted to spend more time with you. One of the things I love about this time of year is getting together with my crazy family. I thought it might be fun, especially since you won’t be with yours.”
Well, shit. When he said it like that, it didn’t sound that bad.
“How about I think about it,” I suggested.
His face brightened. “I’ll take it.”
“So, um, how much longer did you want to skate?” I asked.
He smiled. “What, skating isn’t your thing?”
“Not really.”
“No skating. No sledding. No shopping. No family. What do you actually like to do?”
I shot him a look that gave him a damn good idea of what I liked to do. His jaw dropped and he nearly fell on the ice. He caught himself and gave me a grin.
“Damn. You can’t look at me like that.”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because I might get the wrong idea.”
“About what?” I asked innocently.
Wyatt chuckled. “You’re a complicated woman, Dr. Peyton.”
“I think I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
He laughed and led me off the ice. We took off our skates and returned them. He slipped an arm around my waist on our walk to the car, our steps falling into sync as we walked. When we got to the darkened part of the street where we parked, Wyatt didn’t open my door like I expected. He pressed my back to the door and covered me with his body.
“You’re making me a little crazy, Peyton,” he murmured, nibbling on my throat.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I confessed.
“Well, I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one who’s crossing our original boundaries.”
I nodded. “Jumping over them, I think.”
“Want to help me set up my Christmas tree?” he whispered, nuzzling my ear.
I pulled back to look at him. “Is that a line?”
He threw his head back and laughed loudly. I chuckled with him, loving the way he laughed with his whole body. Like when he laughed, every part of him was having fun.
I wondered if he would laugh during sex. One of those playful, silly guys who never took anything too seriously.
“It wasn’t supposed to be a line, but I guess that should depend on your answer.”
He stared at me, his eyes blazing with desire. I knew I had the same look on my face. I wanted him. I wanted to spend time with him. And I didn’t care if we really were setting up his Christmas tree, or if that was what he called his cock. I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to be with him.
“I’d love to help you set up your Christmas tree,” I said, my voice low and sexy, I hoped.
Wyatt crushed his mouth to mine, his tongue diving between my lips. I answered with arms around his neck and a tug to get him closer. He stepped toward me, the side of his SUV preventing me from moving back. I loved the feel of him against me. Protecting me. Touching me. Devouring me.
His tongue glided over mine, a tantalizingly sweet move for a man who had me pinned to the side of his vehicle. His hands were low on my hips, holding me against him. As he kissed me, I felt him lengthening between us. Knowing how much he was enjoying our kiss spurred me on.
I thrust my tongue against his and tugged on his hair. He growled into my mouth, then tangled his tongue with mine. We made out like teenagers hiding in their parents’ basement until we were breathless and desperate for more.
He pulled back, raining kisses down my neck to the collar of my sweater. “I’m starting to think it may have been a line after all.”
I laughed, loving that I could make him as lost as he made me. “I said yes, Wyatt.”
He pulled back and grinned. “You did. I better get you back to my place before you change your mind.”
“Not gonna happen, Mr. Mayor.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Dr. Peyton.”
I shifted my hips against him. He groaned. “I have a little bit of an idea how happy you are.”
“Dangerous. You’re dangerous.”
He kissed me again quickly, stealing my breath, then opened the door for me to get in. The twenty minute drive back to Winterville was painful as Wyatt rubbed my thigh the entire drive. By the time we got to his place, I was sure I’d left a wet spot on the
seat of his car.
Wyatt led me into a secured building then opened the door to his condo with a sheepish grin. “It really isn’t much.”
“You’re like me, Wyatt. All you do is sleep here. I’d think you were crazy if you had a spectacular place that you were never around to enjoy.”
He nodded. “That’s how I’ve always felt, too.”
Wyatt went through flipping on lights. I followed him to the living room and my good mood plummeted.
Chapter 11
“You were serious about the Christmas tree,” I blurted, eyeing the massive cardboard box labeled ‘Christmas tree.’
Wyatt ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I picked up on. “Um, yeah. But we don’t have to do it.”
I shook my head, knowing the lust was making me crazy. It had been a while since I’d had sex. Avoiding it for another night, or month, or year, was no big deal for me. “This is on your list, right?”
He nodded. “How about I start a fire and make us some boozy s’mores hot chocolate?”
“Sure,” I said, dreading opening the boxes on the floor. Christmas ornaments. Memories. The past. I couldn’t avoid my own if I was going to be faced with his.
Wyatt loaded logs into the fireplace on the back wall, surprising me.
“You have a wood-burning fireplace?”
He nodded. “I know gas or electric is popular, but it doesn’t feel the same to me. I like to have real wood. It’ll take a while to heat up though. Sorry about that.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I always loved our wood-burning fireplace. I would sit in front of it for hours when I was a kid. I had a chair right by it and would read or nap there my entire winter break from school.”
“Hmm. So there is something about this time of year that you like?”
I smiled, admitting to myself that he was right. There were a few good memories from the holiday season.
After he got the fire going, Wyatt went into the kitchen, a bright, open space that overlooked the living room. He pulled out a pan then a small glass baking dish. I watched as he poured milk into the pan and chocolate chips into the glass dish. The fire popped, drawing my attention. I sat there, staring at it, and forgetting about everything around me until the scent of chocolate blended with the pungent aroma of burning wood, making me happy.
I relaxed into his overstuffed, gray couch. I expected something leather for him, but it was soft and well worn, like he’d had it for a long time. A TV sat on a stand near the fireplace, like Wyatt used both on a regular basis. I ignored the boxes near the window, pretending they weren’t there.
Wyatt carried two mugs over to the couch and handed one to me. It was elegant and beautiful and smelled like heaven in a cup.
“Wow. You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
He shook his head. “Not usually. This is my favorite drink this time of year. My mom always made us s’mores hot chocolate growing up. When we asked for more, she’d never give it to us. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized it was because she took whatever was left over and added whiskey to it for the adults.”
“Whiskey?” I asked, sipping from the red mug.
“What do you think?”
“Oh, wow,” I groaned. “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.”
Wyatt beamed at me, tasting his own mug. “There’s more if you want it.”
“This is really good. The whiskey isn’t too heavy, just enough to know it’s there. I’ve never had a drink loaded with this much chocolate. I feel like I need a spoon.”
“I can get you one.”
I shook my head and rested my hand on his arm when he started to get up. “It’s okay. I’ll just enjoy sipping it.”
We sat silently together for a few minutes, watching the fire and sipping our boozy hot chocolate. The graham cracker crumbs on the edge of the mug were held in place by more chocolate. Every sip I took brought in a little bit of graham cracker, a touch of the marshmallow on top, and a heaping of chocolate. The whiskey was subtle, but definitely there, reminding me it had been a few hours since we’d eaten dinner.
“Are you hungry?” Wyatt asked. “As I drink this, I realize dinner was a while ago.”
“I was just thinking that, too.”
“Let me go cook us something.”
“Wyatt,” I said as he shifted to get up.
“Hmm?”
“Just relax for a little while.”
He settled back down next to me. His leg was pressed to the side of mine even though a person could lay down on the rest of the couch. I shifted, just a little closer to him. The hot chocolate and fire relaxed me until I felt like nothing could bother me.
Then he moved.
Closer.
I didn’t think it was possible to get closer, but he found a way.
His scent overpowered the chocolate, reminding me I wasn’t relaxing on my couch at home. Oh, no. I was cuddling on Wyatt’s couch in his condo. With a very sexy, delectable Wyatt Ramsey pressed against my side.
My eyes flipped open. I sipped my hot chocolate, trying to pretend everything was perfectly normal. The longer we sat, sipping our drinks and watching the fire, the more aware of him I was.
His muscular thigh against mine. The movement of his arm as he brought his mug to his lips. The sound of his breath. The scent of him.
I wanted my friend. I wanted Wyatt. And it wasn’t a friendly thing. It wasn’t a ‘he’s hot and I can see where someone would like him’ thing. I wanted him. I wanted his tongue on my body. I wanted my hands on his. I wanted to feel him slide into me. I wanted to ride him until I broke him.
Then do it all over again.
“Peyton,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. And sexy.
“Hmm?”
“You know you’re making me crazy, right?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, baffled that I could be making him crazy.
“Every time you move, I want to lay you out on this couch and find out where your tantalizing scent is coming from.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“You smell like dessert, Peyton.”
I snorted. “I think that’s the hot chocolate.”
He shook his head and set his mug on the table. Then he took mine and set it next to it.
Gulp.
He turned to face me, his eyes burning. I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I knew I was going to love it.
He cupped my jaw and lowered his lips to mine. All our kisses had been sweet, a bit of sexy, but still tame. Kisses that could be considered friendly kisses. Extremely friendly.
But this kiss was different. It was powerful. It was heady. It was something I never wanted to forget.
His tongue swept into my mouth, giving me a taste of chocolate flavored Wyatt. I moaned because, hell, it was the best thing I’d ever had. I reached for him, needing to feel him. The stubble on his face was rough against my fingertips, adding a new element to the softness of his tongue in my mouth. His breath fanned against my cheek, giving me the scent of chocolate as well as the taste. I was surrounded by chocolate and Wyatt and wasn’t sure which was more appealing.
No. That wasn’t true. Wyatt only made the chocolate better, but if I could only have one, there was no doubt which I’d choose.
Wyatt leaned back, shifting my body so I was over him. My knees fell to either side of his hips, his cock nestled just right between my thighs. His hands slid to my ass, urging me against him.
Pleasure shot through me. A shock of warmth and a blast of desire pooled low within me. I had to rub against him, to feel the length of him pressed to me. His fingers dug into my ass, encouraging my movements as his tongue probed my mouth.
One stroke. One brush. One thrust.
And I was nearly gone.
I threw my head back and moaned. My hair fell around me, creating a curtain. A safe place. Somewhere that blocked out the world around me. Everything except Wyatt.
His eyes scorched me. The need.
The desire. The urge to please me. I’d never had a man look at me like that before. Like my pleasure was the only thing that mattered to him.
Just that knowledge alone was almost enough to send me over the edge.
“Fuck, Peyton,” he growled, grinding me against him. His jaw clenched. His fingers tightened. He guided me over him, thrusting up against me with every stroke of my body on his.
My breathing grew shallower, my body spiraling up and up until I knew I’d go whether I liked it or not. Wyatt leaned up, claiming my lips again, and I soared.
Wyatt kept me moving, his hands controlling my hips. I’d always known I could come over and over again, but rarely had a man who was willing to let me keep going. Wyatt seemed up to the challenge.
“More, Peyton? Can you give me more?”
“Uh huh,” I murmured, wondering if he was ready for me to be done.
“Let me touch you. I need my hands on you.”
He reached between us and rolled us over.
Right off the couch.
I landed hard on my back with Wyatt on top of me. His eyes went wide, fear sneaking into them.
And I laughed.
My body shook so hard, Wyatt pushed his weight off me. I couldn’t breathe. Tears leaked from my eyes. I seriously thought I might pee my pants.
But I couldn’t stop laughing.
After a minute, Wyatt started chuckling. He caught my eye, which only made me laugh harder. Which made him laugh harder. And harder. Until he was laughing just as hard as I was.
His body shook above mine with his laughter. He finally rolled off me, getting pinned between me and the large, black ottoman.
He shoved at the ottoman and finally managed to move off me. He sat on the ground, one elbow resting on his knee. I was still on my back, looking up at him. Our laughter faded with the moment.
“That wasn’t exactly how I hoped to make you tremble,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh.
I huffed a laugh and sat up. Wyatt’s hand landed on my calf, but the moment was gone. Maybe it was for the best. We were friends. If we slept together, it could get messy.
I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.
“Do you have your snowflake ornaments in a special box?” I asked, knowing if the subject didn’t change things would get awkward in a hurry.
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