But I wanted that ornament. I wanted that reminder of something beautiful and precious in the holiday season. I wanted something to hold on to next year when Wyatt wasn’t a part of my life any longer.
Because I knew he wouldn’t be. Neither of us wanted that. We liked our freedom. And once Valentine’s Day passed, and my obligation to be his date was fulfilled, we’d go our separate ways.
Which was why my desire to have a reminder of our time together baffled me. I wasn’t a sentimental kind of person. I was logical and practical and stoic. I didn’t like trinkets. I didn’t like emotion.
Wyatt bought the ornament and came back to where I was standing, looking at the empty spot where the ornament had been. It was the last one, so I couldn’t even buy myself the same thing and know we’d both have one forever. It was gone.
“You ready to go?” Wyatt asked like nothing was wrong.
I nodded and followed him back out into the cold.
We were halfway to his car when he said, “You know I got that for you, right?”
“What?”
He breathed a laugh and stopped me. “I saw how much you liked that one. It’s yours. I was going to save it for Christmas, but I can tell it’s bothering you.”
“It’s not,” I lied. “You’re the one who wants a Christmas ornament.”
“Do you know my favorite part about getting a new ornament?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“It’s not the ornament. It’s the memory of who I was with when I bought it. My mom or my sister or a friend. I saw another ornament that was similar, but not as girly. I got that one for me.”
“Wyatt,” I said softly, touched that he bought me something. I reached up to touch his face, my gloved hand brushing his cheek.
“I wanted you to have something to remember this Christmas. But you’re not getting it tonight. You have to wait until Christmas.”
“Am I going to see you then?”
He nodded, his eyebrows pulling together. “I thought you were going to Olivia and Ethan’s?”
“We are. I just didn’t know you were.”
“Yeah. I get together with my family in the morning and leave by mid-afternoon. Usually I’m alone Christmas night.”
“Well, good. Then I’ll have someone to talk to.”
“Maybe we can talk Olivia into hanging some mistletoe around the house.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You don’t need that to kiss me.”
Wyatt stepped closer, our bodies aligned. He slid his hand around my back and took my lips in a kiss that stole my breath. His tongue swept into my mouth and claimed a part of me that no one else ever had. A part of me that I held out for just me. A part that said I couldn’t count on anyone else to take care of me.
But Wyatt had been doing just that. In his quest to make me love Christmas, I think he was making me love something else entirely.
That was a new feeling.
He eased back, letting the cool air fill the space between us. It brought a hint of clarity to me. Something I desperately needed in that moment.
Wyatt didn’t say anything as we walked back to his SUV. He held my door and jogged around to get in. He turned it on and blasted the heat, aiming all the vents my way.
His hand rested on my thigh on the drive back to his place. My mind couldn’t make sense of anything with his scent surrounding me and his large hand caressing my leg. I wanted him. But I wanted more than just sex. I didn’t do long term. I didn’t do permanent. I knew, without a doubt, that whatever was going on with us would end, but I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t anywhere near ready for it to.
“Want to come up for a drink?” he asked when we got out of the SUV.
I dug for my keys and shook my head. “I should get home. More wine and I won’t be able to drive, and we both have to work tomorrow.”
I wanted to spend more time with him, but I knew I had to be there for my patients in the morning. I wasn’t giving up my career. No matter what. Plus, I didn’t need more to drink. Wine before dinner and with dinner was enough.
“Peyton,” he said, his voice dipping lower. “We both know I wasn’t really asking you up for another glass of wine.”
“Oh, really?” I asked with a grin. “Then why were you asking me up?”
“I think you know why.”
“I’m a little slow when it comes to men. You should probably spell it out for me.”
He yanked my body tight against his, shocking a gasp out of me. He dipped his head to my ear and whispered, “I want to get you naked.” He kissed my neck. “And finish what we started over the weekend.” He kissed my jaw. “And find out once and for all if we’re as good together in bed as we are as friends.”
He ended his argument with a kiss. A demanding one that had me clutching his shoulders for support. I was powerless to resist his assault on my senses. He knew I wanted him. I knew he wanted me. And the dance we’d been doing was messing with my head.
That was why I thought I was falling for him.
He wasn’t just a friend, and he wasn’t just a lover. He was a confusing blend between the two.
If we slept together, he would be firmly in the lover category, and I could stop lusting after him. I’d have him. And everything would make sense again.
I pulled back from his kiss, enjoying the heavy-lidded look he gave me. I grinned and turned toward his building, leaving him to follow me. Within seconds, his footsteps raced across the parking lot to my side. He opened the door for me and guided me to his apartment with a hand low on my back.
Nope, not my back!
We paused on our way up the stairs to make out again. His fingers dug into my ass, urging me to climb him. When they dipped to my thighs and lifted, I knew I was done.
A man who could actually lift me?
I might be falling for him.
Or at least for his talents in the bedroom.
Or hallway.
Chapter 15
I was drunk on kisses by the time we made it to Wyatt’s apartment. He carried me the rest of the way, making me feel light as a feather even though I knew I was nothing close.
Wyatt set me down to kick off his boots. I unzipped mine and dropped them next to his then was back in his arms. He held me against his chest as he led us right through the living room.
“I’m not taking my chances again. I need you in my bed.”
I laughed until his hands slid under my sweater and grazed my overheated skin. He didn’t stop at my stomach but kept going until he had to break our kiss to remove my sweater. He ducked to get his lips on my breasts, kissing and suckling the sensitive skin above my bra.
Not to be outdone, I pushed him back and tugged his shirt up and off, anxious to get my hands on him. I’d been fantasizing about him since our first kiss. No more fantasies. I needed to touch.
He continued walking us toward the hallway beyond the living room, leaving our tops on the floor on the way until we reached his bedroom. Wyatt pressed me against the wall outside his bedroom door and worked his way from my neck to my breasts and back up. I arched against him and he took advantage of the space between my back and the wall.
My breasts sagged with the release of the clasp. He guided the straps slowly down my arms, his eyes glued to me as the cups revealed my breasts to his hungry gaze.
“I’ve been wanting to touch these for months, Peyton.”
“What are you waiting for?”
The devilish grin disappeared as he buried his face between my breasts. He lifted them, squeezing both together around his cheeks. He turned to bite then lick first one, then the other. His thumbs brushed my nipples and made me cry out. I was so ready for him.
“Don’t hold back from me, Peyton. I want to hear every sound you make.”
His mouth closed over my nipple and I gasped. He growled at me, pinching my other nipple. His tongue flicked and caressed. He sucked hard, then released me to move to the other side.
I was already close. Waves
of warmth spilled over me. I wanted to reach between my legs and finish what Wyatt started, but most men didn’t like to be pushed out of the way when it came to giving orgasms.
I learned that one the hard way.
“Wyatt,” I cried, my voice sounding pained even to my own ears. “Wyatt, I need to come.”
“Then come,” he said against my breast.
He bit my nipple and ground himself against me, giving me just a taste of what I needed. I shifted, trying to get more from him, but it wasn’t right.
Before I could fix it, Wyatt scooped me up. He pressed my back to the wall and thrust up against me, hitting exactly where I needed him.
“Yes,” I groaned. “More.”
Wyatt searched for my breast with his mouth as he thrust into me over and over again. I could feel the pull, the bliss, of my orgasm rushing toward me. It got closer with every stroke of his body against mine.
He released my nipple and made a move for the other one, his hands tight on my ass. He shifted, moving us away from the wall. I almost fell backward, but he caught me. He stalked into his room, not bothering with the light, until we hit the bed. He dropped me on the edge, my legs still around his waist. His hands cupped my breasts, kneading, teasing, pinching, as his cock worked me over.
“Wyatt,” I moaned.
“Don’t stop, Peyton. Tell me what you need.”
“Just. Keep. Going. Please.”
He thrust harder, his cock feeling amazing through our clothes. I would have given anything to feel his skin against mine, but I was too close to suggest we back up and take everything off. I needed to get one out before I could think.
He rocked into me, fucking me through our clothes. One hard thrust. Then another. And one more.
My breath caught in my throat. Heat spiraled through me. I clenched my thighs around him. And with one more stroke, I went flying.
“Wyatt! Oh, yes! Fuck! More!” I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t think. I just wanted Wyatt.
“Don’t stop, Peyton,” he growled.
But he moved. He disappeared. The delicious cock that set me off wasn’t between my thighs anymore.
I looked up, barely able to keep my eyes open. Wyatt stripped his pants off and fisted his cock, stroking himself. His eyes fluttered closed. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
He opened his eyes and found me watching him. With our eyes locked together, he stroked himself again. And again. I couldn’t keep my eyes on his. I needed to see him. His large cock encased in his big hand. The purple tip barely visible, then stretched as his fist hit the base. Over and over, he stroked himself. Watching me, watching him.
I unbuttoned my pants and slid them down my thighs and kicked them off. His eyes widened watching me, but he didn’t say anything. When I reached beneath my panties, he shook his head.
“Off.”
He helped me glide my panties down my legs, then went back to stroking himself.
“Show me how you like to be touched, Peyton. Show me what you want me to do to you.”
Tentatively, I eased my hand between my legs. His eyes were glued to where my hand met my body. I dipped my fingers low, soaking them before bringing my fingers up to my clit. With my middle finger on top, I teased myself. Every brush of my clit made my legs twitch. They closed slowly, unaccustomed to staying spread.
Wyatt stepped forward, placing his big body between my knees so they’d stay apart. “Keep going.”
I moved my hand faster, getting closer. I needed to come. Between his eyes on me and how turned on I was from my first orgasm, I was close. I looked down and focused on his hand moving quickly over his cock, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Oh, yes,” I moaned softly. “Wyatt.”
“Say my name again, Peyton. I want to hear my name as you come.”
“Wyatt,” I said softly.
“Louder. Say it louder. I know you want to scream.”
“Wyatt,” I repeated.
“More, Peyton. I need to hear it more.”
His nose nudged my hand, pushing it to the side. I looked down, nearly coming again when I saw him positioned between my thighs. His tongue ran from my entrance up to my clit and flicked it. He repeated my movements with his tongue, adding in a few hard sucks and a finger inside me, and I was gone before I knew it.
“Wyatt!” I yelled. “Fuck, yes, Wyatt!”
He murmured against me but didn’t stop. He added another finger and flicked me again. He suckled and licked and teased and had me screaming his name again seconds later.
Only after I begged him to stop did he ease up. His fingers made a slow glide out of me, nearly sending me into another blissful orgasm. He kissed my thighs and stood up, wiping his face on his arm.
I’d never seen a man so beautiful in my life. His face covered with my come, his cock hard and ready for me. Maybe I was wrong about being able to think about him as just as lover.
Wyatt was sheathed and positioned at my entrance before I could further analyze my feelings about him.
“Peyton?” he asked, his voice curious and concerned.
“I want to feel you inside me, Wyatt,” I told him, knowing it was the only thing I was sure of.
He thrust in hard, giving me yet another orgasm. I clenched around him, gasping for breath. He was so big he hit every nerve ending inside me, even ones I didn’t know existed.
When he started to move, I knew I’d died and gone to heaven.
I was still positioned on the edge of his bed, with him standing between my legs. Each jolt of his body against mine had his balls slamming into my ass, something that only added to the erotism of the event. He was my friend. He was someone I knew I had no future with. He was not a one-night-stand. Or a fling. Or someone I could fuck and forget.
He was Wyatt.
He was a man I honestly thought I could be falling for.
And his cock was buried deep inside me, his balls ricocheting off my ass.
Did it get any stranger?
He fucked me like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do. Like he needed to feel me. His eyes searched mine the whole time, looking for clues. His hands skimmed my body. He grunted, “You’re beautiful.”
I wanted to tell myself it was an empty platitude, but I could see that he meant it.
It wasn’t just sex for him either. At least, I didn’t think so. Which was what made the whole thing weirder.
“Talk to me, Peyton. What’s in that head of yours?”
I grinned. “I was thinking this is weird.”
He stopped. “What’s weird?”
“Us. Together.”
“Well, fuck. I wasn’t counting on that.”
He stopped and started to pull out. I wrapped my legs around him.
“I didn’t want you to stop, Wyatt.”
“It sure sounds like you do.”
I tightened my legs and urged him back inside and moaned. “That feels so good, Wyatt. You feel good. I want you.”
He pulled out, then slammed back in. I moaned again, my eyes falling closed.
“More, Wyatt.”
“Keep talking to me, Peyton.”
“You feel so good, Wyatt. I’ve never come as much as I did with you. No man has ever made me feel that way.”
“You’re so wet, Peyton.”
“That was all you. Just you, Wyatt,” I moaned, knowing I was getting close again. “I think I might come again.”
“Yes. Come. Let me feel you.”
“I’m close,” I whimpered.
He slammed harder, lifting my ass to change the angle he entered me. My legs fell to the sides, his cock hitting exactly where I needed him.
“Fuck, Wyatt. I. Can’t. Move. More. Please. Harder.”
He gripped my hips and thrust again. His hips pistoning against me. My body stopped moving, falling limp like I was made of soggy noodles. I’d never had that feeling before, but I could tell I was seconds away from an orgasm so big I wouldn’t be able to contain myself.
“Wyatt,” I cried, nervous.
“I’m right here with you, Peyton. I’m not going anywhere. Let go. Let me feel that orgasm.”
“Argh!” I yelled. Everything inside me felt like it exploded at once. My channel flooded, my legs went stiff, my body felt like a fireball detonated in my gut. Fire filled me and spilled out of my mouth in the form of Wyatt’s name.
“Don’t stop, Peyton. Don’t stop.”
He hooked one arm around my leg and hit my clit with his thumb. I screamed again, barely recovered from the last orgasm before the new one swamped me. I felt like I was drowning in pleasure. My body trembled, shaking uncontrollably as I went for the ride of my life.
Wyatt’s thumb left me. He gripped my hips tight and plunged in deep and hard. One. Twice. Three times and he yelled my name, roaring it at the top of his lungs. I felt him swell milliseconds before he erupted into me.
He continued pumping into me for a few seconds, then collapsed onto me. His beard tickled my neck and my back hurt where I was half-off the bed, but I didn’t care. I’d stay that way forever if it meant I could have Wyatt again.
One breath at a time, our heart rates slowed. Wyatt kissed my slick skin, working his way from my neck to my lips. He stared at me for a few seconds before smiling.
“I’d say we’re as good in bed as we are as friends. Maybe better.”
I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but it stung a little that he still thought of us as just friends. I was starting to fall for him and he still thought of me as a buddy.
“I think you’re right,” I said, pasting on a grin that I hoped would fool him.
He kissed me again, slowly, savoring our connection. It didn’t feel like a kiss friends would share. It felt like something that meant a hell of a lot more.
“I know you can’t stay, but Wednesday I hope you do.”
“Wednesday?”
He nodded. “We’re going to cook dinner. Did you already forget?”
I shook my head, feeling silly for being so relieved that he still wanted to see me then. “I didn’t forget. Just wasn’t thinking straight.”
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