Wyatt's Guilt

by Sara Daniel

  “You know, I would like some coffee.” He reached for her hand.

  She jerked away. She’d offered herself to him, and he’d refused. If she had stuck with her original plan to keep her distance, he wouldn’t have been able to hurt her. But along with her dress, she’d tossed aside her promise never to feel vulnerable with him again.

  Chapter 4

  NICOLE REFUSED TO LET WYATT see how much his denial hurt. She wasn’t a passive teenager anymore, letting him set the course for their evening. He had invited her to spend the night. She had no intention of letting her frustrations mount while he jerked her around. She pushed his tuxedo jacket from his shoulders while claiming his mouth and sucking on his bottom lip.

  He captured both her hands and stopped her advances. “I want this as much as you do, believe me. I just don’t want to rush it.”

  “You want to call the shots and have me go along with your desires until you’ve had enough to last you another fifteen years, you mean.” She shivered and pulled her hands free. Instead of working him out of her system, he was messing with her psyche.

  “What I mean,” he said earnestly, “is I want to make it good for you, and I want to make it last. If we go your speed, I’ll implode in about three minutes, and you’ll regret coming here. I don’t want you to have second thoughts.” He slid off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Three minutes?” The coat was warm from his body heat and smelled like him. She used all her willpower not to bury her nose in the lapels. Instead, she slid her arms into the too long sleeves.

  His eyes glittered as he took in the oversized jacket that stopped at the bottom of her ass. “No. I won’t last more than a minute. That is a seriously hot look.”

  He found her hand inside the sleeve. His hot palm pressed against hers, sending a shivering heat up her arm and throughout her body. His fingers nestled with hers, gentle and almost protective, as he led the way to the kitchen. He released her to measure the coffee grounds.

  “Coffee’s going to keep you going past the three minute mark?” Nicole asked, trying to pretend she didn’t miss the connection of their joined hands as she leaned against the counter next to him.

  He filled a carafe with water while his gaze traced the hem of her jacket. “For the record, I’m making decaf. As long as I keep glimpsing your lacy panties underneath my coat, I’ll be wide awake. If you need help staying awake, I’m your man.”

  Her toes curled. She liked the sound of that. Maybe a little too much. She stepped behind him and circled him with her arms, pressing her cheek to his back. She moved her hands across his chest, releasing the shirt buttons and pulling the material from his waistband.

  He set the coffee to brew and then turned around in her arms. “You’re not helping make this last.”

  “And you’re still trying to be in charge, hot shot,” she tossed back. She was already percolating and about to steam over.

  “Let’s try brewing slowly, a drip at a time.” He kissed her gently, slowly demanding more. His hands settled on her waist, as he nibbled his way down her neck.

  She tipped her head and arched her back, offering her breasts, trying to keep any feelings of tenderness and care for this man from simmering to the surface.

  He skimmed over her breasts, kissing his way down her navel instead. “Have I mentioned this panty and jacket combination is driving me crazy?”

  He gripped her ass, and his hot breath covered her mound, steaming her through the satin and lace. He teased around the elastic edges and tugged the fabric, until she was moaning with desire.

  Straight to the physical needs. This was more like it. If she were a tea kettle, she’d be shrieking right now. She lifted one leg and braced her foot on his thigh, her back pressed against the counter.

  He licked along the panty line between her legs.

  Oh, yes. “Come inside me now.”

  He shook his head, his stubble teasing her sensitive inner thigh. “Not yet.”

  Her body throbbed with need. She couldn’t stand another second of this exquisite torture. “If you slide a finger in me, I’ll come. I am so ready for you,” she panted.

  Wyatt’s hands tightened on her hips. Then he stood, shifting his arm around her back and holding her in a hug that made her feel cherished yet insanely physically frustrated.

  She pulled away. “Are you playing games with me?”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “No. I keep meaning to go slowly, but then I kiss you and I can’t stop. I want to taste you from the inside out.”

  She shivered, enticed by his proposition. Her pelvis bumped against his erection. Knowing he felt the same aching need as she did tempered her vulnerability. She straightened his crooked bow tie and sighed. “I could use a cup of coffee if you’re still offering.”

  “I’m offering everything,” he said.

  “Yeah, just not right now.” She blew out the last of her frustrations with a laugh. She’d happily wait to achieve an orgasm, as long as his pent up desire matched hers and he wasn’t stringing her along, playing with her emotions like their history suggested. “Tell me you have cream for that coffee.”

  “In the fridge.”

  He poured two steaming mugs while she found the cream. She doctored her coffee while considering where the evening was headed. Maybe she was just in too much of a rush to get to the inevitable conclusion. She’d committed to spending the night. She still had hours before her car would be delivered. Post-sex when they’d fulfilled their needs and didn’t want to see each other was bound to be awkward if a full night was still ahead of them.

  She enjoyed Wyatt’s company. She should savor it. Testing her coffee with a small sip, she turned to him.

  He was already watching her. “Come to the couch.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Not your bedroom?”

  “Not yet. I don’t want you to get the idea that we’re ready to go to sleep.”

  Fat chance. But this time she didn’t feel the need to rush toward the end zone. She sat on one side of the couch. Wyatt sat on the opposite end, leaving an entire cushion between them. She saluted him sardonically with her mug. “You had better moves when you were seventeen.”

  Instead of correcting his mistake and sliding toward her, he laughed and set his mug on the side table. “You’ll take that back before the evening’s over. Give me your foot.”

  She tipped her head to sneak another peek at the shoe collage on the wall behind them. “You really do have a foot fetish.”

  “I have a Nicole fetish,” he murmured. “And I’m trying to balance my need to touch you with my pledge not to immediately jump you.”

  His mention of needs reassured her. They shared the same ultimate physical goals. She leaned against the armrest and stretched out her legs on the couch. Wyatt began massaging her foot, his thumb knowing exactly where her arch ached. “That feels good.”

  “I’m just getting started. Tell me about your job. I hear you travel a lot.”

  Really? He wanted to get reacquainted before a fling? “You want to know about my job while I’m wearing nothing but underwear and your jacket?”

  “I want to know a lot more, but I figured we should start with the basics. We kind of skipped the whole get-to-know-you routine.”

  “Okay, if that’s what turns you on. But you should know that this is definitely a one night thing for us because traveling is all I do.”

  Wyatt frowned, and his fingers paused on her feet. “What’s your schedule like? Where do you live when you’re not traveling?”

  “I live wherever the client needs me to be, or I’ll hang out at Zane’s place if I have a couple weeks off.” She’d long since given up maintaining a home base. “Pretty much, I live wherever I want.”

  His fingers began working their magic on her foot again. “So you could live here and travel when you needed to?”

  She shrugged. “Hypothetically.” In reality, not a chance. Wyatt probably only left the city limits to go to the courthou
se. She couldn’t imagine ever being that rooted in a community. But insurmountable obstacles to a relationship didn’t matter. She knew better than to believe she’d ever have a permanent place in his life.

  “What kind of job keeps you traveling so much?” he asked.

  “I design corporate and municipal building interiors to optimize their space and project their image.” She paused, glancing at the pink collage once more. Its presence gave her the nerve to add, “Since Zane’s not in earshot to ridicule me, I’ll admit I consider my work art.”

  Wyatt didn’t smirk as she feared. He simply switched to her other foot, his attention one hundred percent focused on her. “Tell me.”

  She relaxed and took another sip of coffee, debating how much to add. Her brother, being a true “artist,” had mostly cynicism for her definition of art. Blending aestheticism and functionality was something she could go on about for hours but usually didn’t since so very few people shared her career passion.

  Wyatt’s simple non-judgment and seeming contentment with her presence invited her to try. She talked until her mug was empty and Wyatt’s hands were above her knees. Maybe he’d really been using the conversation as an excuse to keep his hands on her in a way that built the foreplay slowly.

  “Sorry you asked?” On an emotional level, she was disappointed to think he hadn’t been hanging on to her every word. But it was definitely better that way. They needed each other for physical release, and finally they were progressing toward it.

  “No. I want to learn everything about you.” He gazed straight into her eyes.

  Everything about her. For a moment she was shaken by how momentous the declaration sounded. Then reality sunk in. He meant physically. That’s why he was spending so much time touching every inch of her skin.

  He slid his hands higher and began kneading her thighs.

  She smiled and let her muscles relax. “You can definitely start there.”

  He leaned over her and took the mug from her hands, setting it on the floor. He kissed her lips lightly. Then he tugged her lower, so she was lying on the couch with her head slightly raised. Instead of covering her with his body as she expected, he moved away, turning her legs off the couch and then kneeling on the floor between them.

  She opened her mouth to warn him not to tease her if he didn’t intend to follow through. Her brain failed to process the command. Before she could speak, he tore her panties away with his teeth, his palms still working her thighs.

  Her legs trembled beneath his hands. He slid his tongue inside her. She shivered with both delight and surprise. Wyatt had made every moment of the evening worth the wait. She’d never felt anything so right and perfect as the beautiful slip of his tongue.

  He nestled his face against her, and she moaned with pleasure. He kissed a leisurely trail along her inner thigh. She raised her hips to give him access to whatever he desired, and he scraped his teeth across her buttocks. Oh yeah, Wyatt Truman could bite her ass anytime.

  He returned his hot lips and wicked tongue to her core. He might be learning everything about her, but she was the beneficiary of his knowledge. She dug her fists into the couch cushions as he sent her flying over the edge of pleasure.

  Nicole kept her eyes closed and savored the moment, committing it to memory. Wyatt shifted, resting his chin on her navel. She opened her eyes enough to check out his expression.

  He smiled so smugly that she wanted him all over again. Not the most auspicious start to working him out of her system.

  Nicole sat up and kissed his mouth hard. He tasted like sex and coffee. “I’m going to strip you and have my way with you,” she said. And put this sex back on even footing, she added silently.

  “Please,” Wyatt agreed. His need and acquiescence dissolved her concerns.

  They made their way up to his bedroom. She ripped off his clothes as they went, leaving a trail. She started to take off the tuxedo jacket she was still wearing, but Wyatt pulled the lapels tight. “Leave it. Seeing you in my clothes drives me crazy.”

  “All right. But this goes.” She unhooked the strapless bra and let it fall from inside the coat.

  “You sure know how to compromise.” His mouth went to her breast, freeing it from the V-opening of the jacket. He encircled the nipple, gently drawing it in and sucking until she moaned with delight.

  She rocked her pelvis against him. He still wore his briefs. She shoved them down and nudged him back until his knees hit the side of the bed. He lay down, and she eased on top of him.

  “Oh God, Nicole. How come it only feels like this with you?” His hands tightened on her hips.

  She jolted, thinking they might have something special but immediately dismissed it. In the light of day, Wyatt would realize it was just the sex talking, and she’d be long gone before he broke the news that in fact she was not special to him at all.

  She set the pace, determined to rock his world and show him she too had learned some things since she was sixteen. But need quickly obliterated her ability to consider technique. Instincts took over. Her body trembled, and she gave him everything she had, savoring every shudder, moan, and thrust of pleasure he offered.

  “You’re mine,” Wyatt groaned. His hot orgasm filled her and set off her own.

  She wasn’t his, but for the rest of the night she allowed herself to forget that.

  Chapter 5

  NICOLE WOKE EARLY. She was still naked. An equally naked male body spooned behind her, aroused in sleep, despite how many times they’d gone at each other last night. If she shifted, she could take him inside her again.

  She had to leave. If she woke him with sex, she’d spend the morning in his bed until he kicked her out. Eventually he would kick her out, and the past would repeat itself.

  They had a one night fling. It was all she wanted. She’d asked for it, demanded it, in fact. Now she would prove she really had grown up into a strong woman with a heart of steel.

  She slid out of bed but couldn’t resist studying Wyatt one last time. Relaxed in sleep, his tough persona disappeared, and he looked amazingly sweet. She started to lean down to kiss his sculpted jaw but stopped herself. She couldn’t risk waking him. And damn it, she was not falling in love with him.

  She stepped over the tuxedo jacket and picked up her bra from the floor, hooking it as she headed downstairs. As she shimmied into her dress, her stomach twisted. Last night’s brilliant idea no longer seemed so bright.

  She didn’t feel like she’d worked Wyatt out of her system at all. She wanted to stay, to sit on the couch and drink coffee in the evenings while they debriefed each other about their day. His house with its showcased shoe collage could be her home base.

  But she’d gone into tonight knowing what she created with Wyatt was only temporary. She had to leave him before he awoke and told her their fling was over. She would not repeat the past. She needed to stick to her plan and get away before he broke her heart.

  Outside, an unfamiliar car sat at the curb at the end of the driveway, as she’d requested. The rental company had come through. Why, oh why, did something going right make her feel like crying?

  She stepped into her shoes, remembering how Wyatt had clarified he didn’t regret sleeping with her, only leaving her last time. So what if she was headed down the same road? She’d regret more if she waited for him to dump her. She picked up her purse and carefully turned the deadbolt in the front door, surveying his living room once more.

  “Goodbye, Wyatt,” she whispered. She’d left no note and no trace of herself behind. Even though she didn’t feel like she’d worked him out of her system, as soon as she got a little more distance between them she would. She’d throw herself into her work and not give Wyatt Truman a second thought.

  She closed the door quietly behind her and retrieved the car keys from the mailbox. She was already driving down the street before she remembered she’d left her underwear in his living room.

  So much for leaving nothing behind. She could only hope he’d
disregard it or wouldn’t give it a second thought. She showered and changed at the motel, then checked out. As she drove away, she purposely sped, daring the flashing lights of a squad car to tell her she was making a terrible mistake and force her to return to Wyatt. But no one stopped her.

  At the airport, the airline happily exchanged her ticket for an earlier flight to the city where she’d be working for the next month. They charged a small fee, of course, but she’d have paid anything to get away before she changed her mind and ran back to him. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself from professing her love and desire to spend her life with him, foolish things he didn’t want to hear. She herself would stop believing them too once the effects of great sex and the fantasy wedding weekend wore off.

  Within two hours of waking in Wyatt’s bed, she was thirty thousand feet in the air, returning to her real life of urgent emails, design plans and demanding clients. There was no place in the life she loved for a small town cop.

  Wyatt waited for Nicole to come back to bed with the coffee he assumed she’d gone downstairs to make. When the door clicked, he waited for her to return with Danishes or eggs from the diner. She’d been gone for over an hour before it occurred to him she might not come back.

  By the time he ran out of excuses for where she could be, she’d long since checked out of the motel. He stood in the parking lot, staring at the empty room that had been hers. She’d left him without saying goodbye. She’d thrown herself at him and screwed him like he was the center of her world, then walked away without a word. She’d used him.

  Just like he’d done to her fifteen years ago.

  Yesterday when he realized his intentions were honorable, he’d assumed they were on the same page. Because he hadn’t been able to imagine having a fling with her and then letting her go, he’d assumed she felt the same way. His fault. He should have spent more time communicating where he thought they were going.

  He wanted forever, but he hadn’t even rated a goodbye kiss.