by Nikki Bella
“The weather?”
“The weather, the people…everything. I like it a lot.”
“And you don’t like it here?”
“I don’t feel like I belong here.”
Wyatt frowned a little. He set his plate aside. “You know, we aren’t bad people, Callie. I know you think my dad isn’t good enough for your mom, but he will take good care of her. The men here are good to the women they’re with. He’ll make sure she’s as happy as she can be.”
“I know.” Callie glanced down at her lap. “I guess maybe I’m a little jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Your lifestyle,” she admitted. “You all seem so…free. You can do whatever you want. There’s no one stopping you, and if they do try, you don’t care what they think.”
Wyatt looked down at her, his eyes serious. “Not whatever we want.”
Callie could have sworn his eyes went to her mouth.
“And sometimes we have to care what other people think.” He kept looking at her for a few moments, and then he stood up abruptly, taking their plates and striding off towards the crowd. Callie stayed put in her seat, her lips parted, trying to figure out what he could possibly have meant.
***
She kept to herself mostly for the rest of the evening, watching the others interact and drinking beer. She was sure her mother had left the keys somewhere, but she might as well just start walking back to the house—the last thing she needed was to run into an overzealous cop. She stood and tossed her can into a nearby bag, and turned to begin the slow trek back to her house.
She’d made it maybe twenty feet, just to the edge of the road where it started to fork off, when she heard footsteps behind her. A little on edge, she jumped and turned around, only to see Wyatt standing there. “Leaving already?” His voice sounded a little slurred, and she knew he’d probably been drinking as much as she had.
“Just going home. I’m really tired.”
He was so close to her. He took another step forward, and she took a deep breath. Her legs felt shaky suddenly, and while it might have been the alcohol, she didn’t think that it was. She took a step backwards, and then another, and she felt the thick trunk of a tree against her back. Wyatt was looming over her, and she put out her hand, pressing it into his chest. “Wyatt, what are you doing out here?”
“I was thinking about what you said.”
“What I said?”
“That we do whatever we want. No matter what anyone else thinks.”
“It seems like all of you do.”
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do, then.”
He leaned forward, and before Callie could speak or move or think, his lips were on hers. They were softer than she’d expected, and while she’d have guessed that he would be a rough kisser, he was exactly the opposite. His mouth brushed against hers, the warmth of it tantalizing, and just when she thought that he was going to tease her forever, his tongue darted out and traced the seam of her lips. She tilted her head back, her mouth opening for him, and his tongue swept inside. One of his hands braced himself against the tree trunk, and the other went to her hair, running his fingertips through it as he gently explored her mouth.
She would have kept kissing him forever. Her body felt flushed, her skin too tight, and she reached for his waist, pulling him against her. There was no part of her that wanted to stop, but suddenly he pulled back.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered, his lips reddened from the kiss. Callie thought she’d never seen anything so sexy.
“My father would kill me,” he said, and he reached for her hand. “I’ll walk you home.”
It seemed like such an innocent thing to say, after that kiss. Callie let him take her hand, let him walk with her down the few miles of road that led to her mother’s house. It took them some time to get there, and the silence between them was heavy. Callie felt as if her whole body was aching, and she realized that she didn’t care who Wyatt was supposed to be to her. She wanted him, and if the kiss had been any indication, he wanted her too.
They reached the house at last, and Wyatt turned to go with a mumbled: “Good night.” Callie reached out and grabbed his arm, and he halted, his face almost irritated. “What is it?”
“I don’t want you to go,” she said, and she took a step forward. “Come inside with me.”
“Callie, we can’t. This isn’t right. We would both get into trouble.”
And for the first time in her entire, rule-following, good-girl life, Callie said something she could never have imagined: “I don’t care if it’s right or not.” She took another step forward and grabbed his shoulders, leveraging herself up onto her toes so that she could press her mouth against his, desperately trying to break his resolve.
It held for a few moments. He stood stone-like in her embrace, not even his lips giving way. Her body arched forwards, and he suddenly made a growling noise deep in his throat, and sank both of his hands into her hair, pulling her lips firmly against his.
Her hands went to his waist, fingers sinking into the buttery-soft leather of his vest, and she whimpered softly into his mouth, the rush of sensation coming back all at once. His body was hot and hard against hers, warmth radiating off of him, and she pulled away from the kiss, breathless. “Let’s go inside,” she said, grabbing his hand. He followed her without a word, into the house and down the hall, into her bedroom.
Seeing him standing there, in the room she’d slept in most of her life, was almost beyond belief. She’d never imagined that she’d have him here. Her hands went to his shirt, slipping under the hem, fingers caressing the smooth skin beneath it. His mouth was on hers again, his hands sliding over her hips and around to grab her ass, and it was as if both of them couldn’t touch each other enough. She slid his vest off of his shoulders, careful to put it on a chair, and the white tee-shirt came off next. She flattened her palms against his muscled chest, tracing her fingertips over the lines of the tattoos across it, and he closed his eyes and sighed at her touch.
“Fair’s fair,” he murmured after a moment, and with a grin Callie reached for the hem of her own black tank, drawing it over her head and tossing it to the floor. She heard Wyatt make an appreciative noise, and she silently congratulated herself for having worn the one nice, black lace bra that she owned.
Truly, she hadn’t done it on purpose.
His hands went to her waist, sliding up her ribs, reaching for her breasts. She sighed as his palms covered them, mounding them in his hands, and then he rubbed his thumbs over the nipples as they hardened beneath the lace. Callie moaned softly, her back arching as he took them between his fingers, rolling them as he watched the expression on her face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he reached for the clasp of her jeans, pushing the zipper down and working them over her hips. He knelt in front of her as he pushed them to the floor, and gently backed her up, until the backs of her legs were touching her mattress. Then, slowly, he hooked his fingers under the edge of her black cotton panties, and tugged them down.
Callie moaned aloud at the first touch of his lips between her thighs. No one had ever done this to her before, and she’d always been too shy to ask. He spread her knees apart with his hands, his fingers reaching between her legs to open her up to him, and then his tongue darted out, stroking and lapping at her, and she sat on the edge of the mattress, letting her legs fall open for him.
“You taste delicious,” he murmured as he slid his hand down, two of his fingers slowly working their way into her as his tongue changed speeds, flicking quickly one minute and the next traveling in leisurely strokes over her. She arched her back as she felt his fingers slide inside of her, and she felt her body tensing, her muscles tightening as the pleasure intensified. She’d never thought anything could feel so good. She felt his lips move over her clit, pressing down, and suddenly he was sucking it into his mouth, his fingers catching a slow rhythm inside of her, and she leaned
back, collapsing onto the mattress as her hips ground against his face, her orgasm approaching quicker and quicker.
She was almost frightened of it. She’d never felt pleasure so intense. One second every part of her body seemed rigid and tight, and the next she was writhing and bucking, her moans muffled as she turned her face into the covers of the bed to drown out some of the sounds. He never stopped, his hands tight on her thighs as he kept the sensations going for what felt like entire minutes, and then when she was finally limp on the bed, he pulled away and stood up.
She got fully onto the bed, half sitting up as his hands went to his jeans, undoing the fly and dropping both the jeans and boxers to the floor simultaneously. His cock sprang free, hard as a rock and thicker than she had imagined—and she had definitely imagined it.
He walked towards her, climbing onto the bed and stretching out next to her. He reached for her, drawing her down for another kiss, but after a moment she pulled away and moved down his body with a wicked grin.
He realized at once what she intended to do, and his lips curved in an anticipatory smile as she moved between his legs, her hand reaching for his thick shaft as she bent her head, her lips encircling the tip.
He groaned, his toes curling as she tightened her mouth and sucked, slowly moving down inch by inch, her hand traveling the distance first. Her mouth was wet and hot, and he fought for control, not wanting it to end too quickly. Callie could feel his muscles trembling, and she reached between his legs, the fingers of her other hand playfully stroking his balls as she slid her mouth up and down his shaft with slow, teasing strokes.
“God, you’re good at this,” he groaned, his hips arching up as she swirled her tongue around the tip, squeezing his shaft in her fist as she bobbed up and down quickly a few times, and then sank down to the hilt again, her nose brushing his abdomen as her throat muscles convulsed around him.
He was up in a flash, pushing her off of him before she could continue and make him finish before he was ready. He rolled her onto her back, and her legs fell open of her own accord, her hips arching up as she pulled him down to her.
His mouth was on hers in a flash, pushing her down into the pillow as he grabbed one of her legs and hooked it around his waist. He reached for his cock, slowly guiding himself into her as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, and Callie moaned, rolling her hips up so that he slid inside of her in one fluid motion. He gasped at the sensation, and Callie marveled for a moment at the picture he made above her—all hard, flexing muscle and tanned skin, his hair falling forward over his eyes as he began to thrust slowly. His hands went to her breasts, gently squeezing them, his fingers tracing over the nipples. The steady rhythm of his cock inside of her made her ache with desire, her hips grinding against him in an effort to match him stroke for stroke. He pressed kisses to her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, lowering his head to run his tongue across one nipple, and then suck on it briefly, his teeth scraping gently against it. Callie moaned aloud at that, her hips jerking, and then suddenly she arched up, grabbing his shoulders and using his momentum to roll him onto his back.
He looked surprised at the change, and started to say something, only to groan aloud when she sank down fully onto his cock. She enveloped him entirely, hot and wet and pulsing around him, and when she bent forward to kiss him she began to roll her hips in a way that made him moan into her mouth, his hands going to her ass as he caught her pace and began to thrust up into her.
She reached between her legs, her fingers stroking over her clit as she rode him, and she knew from his expression that he could tell what she was doing. She kept control of the pace, sliding up and down first in long, slow strokes that were maddeningly pleasurable and not quite enough all at the same time, and then suddenly arching her back and sinking down onto him, grinding into him until he was panting and she felt that she might come any second. Her fingers were flying over her clit now, and she suspended herself on his cock so that the tip stroked exactly the spot that brought her the most pleasure each time. She began a rolling motion that rubbed it there, over and over, and she could see from the concentration on his face that he was getting closer as well. He arched up, squeezing her breasts as he matched her strokes, and then suddenly she felt it as she sank down onto him.
Her whole body felt like a coiled spring that had released. She arched her back and ground down into him, bucking as she came for a second time, falling forward so that her mouth was on his shoulder, her teeth sinking into his flesh. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her glued onto him, and just as the last waves were subsiding, he moved her off of him and went behind her, slapping her playfully on the ass.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he said, grabbing her hips as she did so. “I’m going to come this time,” he groaned as he slid into her again. “I can’t hold out much longer.”
Callie arched her back in encouragement, her palms against the wall as she thrust back against him, any reticence long gone. She had had two orgasms already, incredible when she thought that most times she was lucky to get one, and yet her body showed no signs of stopping. Already she could feel the waves of pleasure building again as she slammed back against him, his thrusts coming hard and furious now. The air was hot, and the only sounds were the fleshy sounds of their thrusts and the moans that spilled from both of them as they rushed towards the end.
Wyatt groaned aloud, his strokes becoming erratic as he gripped her harder, his fingers sinking into her flesh as he thrust once, twice more, and then she felt him shudder. His hips jerked, and she felt him, hard and hot inside of her. He fell forward, pressing her down into the bed, and she felt her own body spasm in response as he drove as deeply as he could into her, his hips thrusting erratically as he moaned into her neck, his body quivering as he came.
For several moments, neither of them said anything. They came apart slowly, rolling onto the cool sheets, and Callie stared up at the ceiling, unsure of how to proceed.
“That was incredible,” Wyatt murmured.
“Yeah,” Callie said, still breathless. “Much better than I thought it would be,” she said dryly, and then laughed at the stricken expression on Wyatt’s face.
“I was sure it would be fantastic,” she assured him, rolling towards him to plant a kiss on his chest.
“I think, after a few minutes, I may want to do it again,” Wyatt said, a small smirk curving the corners of his lips. “That is, if you think you might be game for it.”
Callie smiled, running her fingers down his chest. “I thought you didn’t care what anyone else thought?”
Wyatt growled at her, rolling so that she was pinned beneath him and dropping a slow, lazy kiss on her lips. Callie moaned softly, her lips parting under his.
“Well, I think for one person, I might make an exception…”
Being bad, Callie thought, was far, far superior to being good. In fact, she mused…she might even make a habit out of it.
After all, there was a lot of summer left.
The End