Of course, you do. I wonder how far away my drafting pencil is. Because I’d like to stab my own eye out in frustration.
“We can certainly do that,” I reply calmly. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Oh, no, that’s all. I wanted to get back to you right away.”
I check the time. I sent those plans over seven hours ago. All I can do is laugh as I say goodnight and end the call.
I’m so ready for this day to be over.
“You just sit right there,” Lia says and winks at me. There’s a stage in her living room—with a pole—and I’m sitting on a lounge chair, watching her. “This was in the box you brought inside. I wanted to surprise you.”
“I’m surprised,” I reply. She smiles and turns away from me, slowly peeling her clothes off. When she turns back to me, her shirt and bra are gone, but her long, blond hair covers her tits. “Do you want to see these?”
“Hell yes.”
“Not yet,” she says with a laugh. “I want to tease you.”
“It’s working.” My hands flex in and out of fists as I watch her dance around the stage, stripping out of the rest of her clothes but not showing me her breasts.
She even starts to dance around the pole, managing to keep her nipples covered.
“Watch this,” she says and effortlessly climbs the pole, swinging around it gracefully. “I’m really good at this.”
“I’m not complaining.”
She whips her legs up over her head and then stomps to the floor, making a loud bang.
Over and over again, she stomps her feet on the stage, until I finally wake up.
My cock is hard in my hand, and I’m swiftly working myself up to an orgasm when I realize that the banging isn’t from my dream.
Someone is pounding on my damn front door.
I climb out of bed and reach for my boxers, immediately thinking of spaghetti, baseball, anything to get rid of this boner.
But then I open the door and come face-to-face with the source of said boner.
~Amelia~
“Oh, so you’ve got jokes,” I say to my cousin, Will. He’s snickering behind his hand, and his wife, Meg, just rolls her eyes.
“Hey, you’re going to eventually need those.”
I stare at the box of condoms he just dropped into my Louis Vuitton handbag and cock an eyebrow. “Really? Who, exactly, am I going to screw while I’m being held hostage in Natalie’s house?”
“You could meet someone,” Will replies with an unconcerned shrug. “And when you do, you’ll be safe.”
“Now I remember why I didn’t come home often,” I mutter and shake my head, but Will just smiles again and stands to walk me out of their house. I came over for dinner and to see their sweet little baby, Erin, who has since gone to bed.
“You missed me,” Will says and wraps me in his big arms. Will is a big man. As the starting quarterback for Seattle’s football team, I guess he needs to be. But then, all of the Montgomery men are big. “And if you need anything at all, we’re here. Just call.”
“I will. You’ve all done so much already.”
“It’s what the Montgomerys do,” Meg says with a smile and offers me a hug, as well, even though I don’t know her nearly as well as I’d like to. “They swoop in and take care of the people they care about.”
“Sounds about right,” I reply with a nod. “Thanks for dinner. And for letting me vent.”
“And for the condoms,” Will adds with a wink as I walk out the door.
I just wave and climb into Jules’ little car, then zoom down the freeway toward the house that I’m quickly beginning to think of as mine.
I love my condo in L.A. My car, my friends, my life. But then I come here, and this fits, too. It’s damn confusing.
I mean, I could work from Seattle, right?
No. Probably not.
I sigh as I turn off the freeway and follow a Lexus SUV into my neighborhood. I’m surprised to see that it’s my neighbor from across the street. What did he say his name is? Wayne? Wesley?
Wyatt. Pretty sure it’s Wyatt. Which is sexy all by itself. But then when you add in the muscles he was sporting when he helped with my boxes, and the freaking sleeve tattoo to go with them, well . . . I might have salivated.
I park and climb out of the car and offer Wyatt a wave before I walk inside to crash. It’s been a long day. Natalie came over to take photos for my social media this week, and while it was super fun, changing clothes every twenty minutes, tweaking my makeup, choosing new accessories for each shot, was freaking exhausting.
And then Will made me laugh for two hours, and my stomach got a killer workout.
My family is funny. They’re also wonderful, and I’ve missed them more than I realized.
I have makeup brushes to clean and put away before bed. I always clean my brushes after every use. Getting an infection from bacteria is my worst nightmare.
Speaking of nightmares, I sigh when I take in the sight of the staging bathroom with makeup and brushes strewn over the entire countertop.
“What a mess.” I sigh and begin to organize. My mind empties, and before long, the mess is cleaned up. I wash my face, then change into a tank top and clean panties, and rather than watch TV or other beauty vloggers’ videos, I simply climb into bed and let my body fall into an exhausted sleep.
The beeping won’t stop. Actually, beeping isn’t a good word.
Chirping. That’s a good word.
I’ve stomped all over this godforsaken house, trying to track down the source of the noise, but it’s not here.
Yet, it is here.
And that doesn’t make any sense at all.
I prop my hands on my hips and tilt my head, listening.
Chirp. Five seconds go by. Chirp.
What the hell?
I can’t sleep like this. I pace around the kitchen and then march to the front door, throwing it open and listening.
The chirping is louder.
It’s coming from Wyatt’s house, and it needs to stop, now.
So I take off, no shoes, no clothes, marching to his front door on a damn mission. It’s a warm summer night, with a light breeze that actually feels great on my warm skin.
I bang on his door and look around. No lights on in the houses on the street. His car is in the driveway, so I know he’s home. I mean, it’s the middle of the night, so where else would he be?
I bang again. If he’s sleeping, which I can’t imagine how he could through that noise, he can just wake up and deal with me. I may sound irrational right now, but damn it, a girl needs to sleep.
Finally, he yanks the door open and glares at me with shining hazel eyes.
“What is that noise?” I demand.
“You. You are the noise.” His chest is heaving. His naked, slightly hairy, very sexy chest. Not to mention, his light brown hair is a mess, and his chin is stubbled, and his tattoos are just . . . yum.
“There’s a chirping,” I insist, trying to ignore the fact that he’s only wearing short boxer briefs. The kind that clings to a man’s ass and shows off his thighs.
And, you know, other things. Like the generously sized dick outlined in the cotton.
Holy hell.
“I don’t hear anything.”
I scowl and pause, listening. Sure enough, it’s gone.
“Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him behind me. I can hear the door shut. “You have to hear this.”
“It’s two in the fucking morning,” he says but doesn’t pull away from the grip I have on his wrist. “Can’t this wait?”
“No, because I can’t sleep.” I pull him into my house and shut the door, then hold my hand up. “Stop. Listen.”
Chirp.
“See!” I push my finger into his firm chest, and then back up a step so I’m not standing so close to his sexiness. Because I seriously want to attack him.
“So change the battery in the smoke detector.” He shrugs and turns to leave, but I run in
front of him and block the door.
“I’ve looked for it everywhere, Wyatt. It’s not in this house.”
He frowns. “Well, it’s not at my house.”
“Please, help me.” I bite my lower lip and watch as he pushes his hand through his already messy hair and feel my nether regions immediately sit up and take notice.
“Can you put clothes on?”
“I’m wearing clothes.” I roll my eyes and lead him through the living area, the kitchen, and out to the backyard. “Where is the chirping coming from?”
“You don’t have a robe you could put on?”
I turn to frown at him. “You’re only wearing underwear.”
“Yeah, because it was the only thing I had time to pull on when you were banging my door in.”
I swallow hard, the image of a very naked Wyatt suddenly front and center in my brain. “You mean, you sleep naked?”
“Don’t you?”
I hold my hands out to my sides. “No, I sleep in this.”
“Might as well be naked,” he mutters and props his hands on his hips. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Wait.” I hold up a finger and listen, and sure enough. Chirp.
“It’s in there!” I run over to the studio and open the door, flip on the light, and it happens again. “I found it!”
“Are you running a brothel here?” Wyatt asks, catching my attention. “Or making porn?”
“Excuse me?”
“Or operating a sex club?” His eyes are pinned to the large bed in the middle of the space, the beautiful chaise lounges, and a dining table and chairs. His gaze moves to a rack full of costumes.
“Uh, no.”
Chirp.
“Would you please make that stop?” I ask. Wyatt snags a chair and stands on it to pull the smoke detector down to pop out the batteries. His body is long and lean, the muscles ridiculous. Summer is just starting, and he already looks tan. His mussed-up hair is begging for my fingers.
And the tattoos on his arm do things to me. Sexy, crazy things.
“There. You can replace these tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
“Back to my question.”
“Why do you think I’m running some kind of sex show here?”
He laughs and glances around again, then shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, it might have something to do with all of the sexy stuff in here, and the fact that people come and go from your house all the time.”
I take a look around the room and then chuckle. “Maybe I’m just popular, and I don’t like to leave the house?”
“Agoraphobia? Allergy to sunlight?”
I laugh and leave the studio, then march back into my house and feel Wyatt on my heels.
“Come on, you can tell me.”
“Why do you care?” I so don’t want to tell him all about my personal life.
“Call me curious.”
“Well, curious, I’m not running anything at all to do with sex here.” I lean on my countertop and fold my arms over my chest. “The studio out there is my cousin’s, and she takes boudoir photos for a living.”
“Ah,” he says with a nod. “You lease it out to her?”
“No. I’m renting the house from her.”
“I see.”
“All of these questions are annoying.”
His eyebrows climb into his messy hairline in surprise, and I can’t help but smirk. “And sexy.”
“Which is it? Annoying or sexy?”
“Annoyingly sexy.” His lips twitch, and I admit, I want those lips on me. Everywhere. Right now. “Are you attached to anyone, Wyatt?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, mirroring me. “No. You?”
I shake my head no and push away from the counter, walking slowly toward him. I’ve never done anything like this in my life, but damn it, look at him. I’m a grown-ass woman. With needs. I can fuck whomever I want.
“What’s your name?” he asks, surprising me.
“I told you it was Lia the other day. Did you forget already?”
“No, your full name.” His arms are still crossed over his chest, and his eyes are almost green now as he watches me intently. “What is Lia short for?”
“Amelia,” I reply.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he murmurs, letting his arms fall to his sides.
“Thank you.” I feel myself softening toward this man, and I barely know him. “Thank you, by the way, for coming to my rescue tonight. I’m sorry for dragging you out of bed.”
“It’s okay,” he says with a half-smile that sets my blood moving hotter through my veins.
“I’m going to touch you,” I say, not meaning to say it out loud, but now that I have, what the hell.
His eyes narrow. “If you touch me, I’ll touch you back.”
“Man, I hope so.”
“I didn’t have time to tuck condoms in my underwear,” he says, making me laugh, and I immediately send a telepathic thank you to Will as I reach for my bag and pull out the condoms.
“I have it covered.”
“Was I a sure thing?” he asks.
“I’ll explain later.” I toss the box onto the counter and leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and plunging my fingers into his thick hair. He spins, pins me against the wall, and his mouth takes over, claiming mine.
His lips are smooth and sure, working my mouth like a musical instrument. He’s thorough. I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like this.
His hands are cupping my ass, holding me up, but I want them all over my body.
“Countertop,” I murmur breathlessly against his mouth.
“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
I grin. “I want your hands free so you can touch me.”
“Can’t argue with that.” He carries me effortlessly to the kitchen island and sets me down carefully, pulling my ass to the edge so he can prop his crotch, and his hard cock, against mine. “Your pussy is hot.”
“So damn turned on,” I reply, pulling him back to me. He buries his face against my neck, licking and biting and sending me into crazytown. “You’re good at that.”
“Just wait, sweetheart.” He quickly reaches for the box of condoms, grips it in his teeth, and lifts me, carrying me to the living room. He lays me on the couch and lets the box fall to the floor. “Now I can reach all of you.” He pulls my panties down and buries his face in my core, showing me exactly what his magical mouth can do.
And holy fucking hell, it’s magical indeed.
I arch my back, my hands gripping his hair, and cry out as the first orgasm washes over me, leaving me breathless.
“So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, kissing the insides of my thighs and up my stomach to drag his tongue over my navel. He grips the back of my tank in his hands and simply rips it apart, tugs it down my arms, and throws it over his shoulder. “They’re already puckered for me.”
Holy shit, the things this man says! I don’t know him, and sleeping with strangers isn’t my M.O., but there’s something about Wyatt that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.
Or burn it altogether.
“Your mouth is incredible.” He’s wreaking havoc on my breasts. I’m scissoring my legs, silently begging him to fill me.
“What do you need?” he asks against my jaw.
“You, inside me,” I reply immediately, tugging his Calvin Klein’s down with my feet. “Right now.”
“Thought you’d never ask.” He reaches for the condoms and makes quick work of suiting up. He grips my hips and moves to flip me over, but I shake my head no.
“I want to watch you,” I say, and his eyes narrow. I do not want him looking at my ass.
Vinnie told me I had a fat ass all the time. This moment is too sexy to worry about what Wyatt thinks of my ass.
He spreads my legs wide, propping one foot on his shoulder and staring down at me with glowing eyes. “Are you sure, Amelia?”
“So fucking sure.”
; He’s gripping his cock firmly, and we both watch as the head disappears into my wetness. I sigh and then gasp when he pushes farther, filling me up.
I haven’t had sex in close to three years, but I’m pretty sure it’s never felt like this.
“God, you’re tight, baby.” He leans down, bracing himself on his elbows. “I want to go fast, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“This doesn’t hurt,” I reply and turn my head so I can kiss his wrist. “Not at all.”
He clenches his eyes closed and begins to move in earnest, his hips thrusting faster and faster, pushing harder. My legs are wrapped around his waist, tightening, needing him deeper.
“Wyatt,” I grind out. “Jesus, I’m going to come again.”
“Yes.” He sucks my nipple into his mouth, and that’s it. I come undone, bucking against him. I can’t feel my fingers or toes. I don’t remember the last time I felt so . . . good.
He cries out and succumbs to his own orgasm, every muscle in his fantastic body tensing. I can’t stop touching him.
Finally, he pulls away, kissing my nose, then my forehead, and smiles down at me. “Bathroom?”
“Down the hall.”
He walks off, and a few seconds later, I hear the toilet flush. Once I’ve caught my breath, I sit up and rub my hands over my face. I just fucked a stranger.
And it was bloody amazing.
“Are you okay?” Wyatt asks when he comes back to the room. I peer up at him, pulling my hands away from my face, and smile.
“I’m better than okay.”
“Good.” He smiles and cups my face in his big hand before leaning in to kiss me gently.
“Thanks for coming over,” I say, knowing that it sounds lame, but I don’t have any idea what else I should say in this situation. I stand and gather my things. “I’ll sleep for sure now.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Yeah.” I turn back to him and shrug. He can’t stay the night. “This isn’t a sleepover.”
“Give me your phone.”
I narrow my eyes at his bossiness but stand and throw on my panties and top, then walk to the kitchen to retrieve it and pass it to him. He raises a brow. “Unlock it, please.”
I bite my lower lip and press my thumb to the home button, then pass it back. Wyatt taps on the screen before giving it back to me.
Stay With Me ~ Kristen Proby Page 3