Unexpectedly Hers (Sterling Canyon #3)

by Jamie Beck

  “I’m so turned on right now,” he growled and twisted her around so he could kiss her hard. A desperate kiss they both seemed to need like air and water and sunlight.

  Emma tugged at his shirt, which he quickly tossed aside. Their breaths and bodies mingled, hands groping and pulling at remaining clothing, until neither had a stitch on. Wyatt lifted her to lay her on the bed. Then he crawled on top of her.

  He pinned her against the mattress and stared at her, his breath ragged. “No more turning your back to me. No more ignoring me, Emma.” Then he kissed her again before pulling back. “You’re beautiful.” He rose up on his knees and let his fingers trace all the lines and ridges of her bones and muscles. “This creamy, flawless skin makes me want to see it turn pink.” He roughly grabbed at her breast and pinched just a little. “I knew down deep you’d pent up all this fire and heat.”

  He spread her legs wider with his knees before lowering his mouth to her pelvis bone and then taking it lower and using his tongue and hands to drive her wild.

  Her fingers instantly tangled into his silky curls as she moaned in pleasure.

  Emma trembled as waves of an orgasm racked her body. When Wyatt’s face reemerged, he wore that sleepy, sexy grin again, although his lips glistened. “I told you I never bite unless asked.” He paused. “Any objections?”

  The most she could do was shake her head, because she could barely form words at this point. Wyatt, meanwhile, retained an unnerving amount of self-control as he licked along the centerline of her stomach up to her breasts, and then nipped at her collarbone before kissing her mouth again.

  Emma forced herself to come out of the sexual haze and take part in what was happening. She reached between his legs and stroked his rigid, throbbing erection. He stammered something, his body quaked, but then he reached for her hand and held it at her side.

  Lowering himself now, he glided his penis back and forth over her wetness without penetrating her. The friction made her writhe, seeking the release he held just outside her grasp.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she managed. He stretched to reach the nightstand and grabbed a condom, which he put on with lightning speed. Rolling onto his back, he murmured, “Ride me, Emma. Hard!”

  And she did. She rode him swift and fast and fell apart almost immediately because he’d already had her on the knife’s edge of bliss. He tugged at her hair and tongued her breasts until her nerves were strung so tight she thought she might pass out. As soon as she shattered, he flipped her over, raised her hips, slapped her ass, and took her from behind.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” he said as he slammed into her. His hands and mouth were rough and aggressive, whether biting her shoulder, pinching her nipple, or slapping her bottom. Just like before, it all turned her on. A tiny part of her felt embarrassed to like it so much, but the bigger, happier, satisfied part silenced that critical voice in her head.

  His rhythm increased and she could tell he was near to tipping over the edge. Rather than shout into the room, he clamped his mouth onto her neck and suckled her while his hips jerked with his ejaculation, and he collapsed on top of her.

  Both of them laid there, breathing heavily, sated and, on her part, a little dazed. Some moments later, he rolled off of her and then turned her so they were lying face to face. He had the most adorable, satisfied smirk on his face, so she laughed.

  “Laughing at me?” He pinched her ass. “Careful, or I might have to punish you.”

  She looked at him, unable to say anything. Suddenly, in the quiet, still of the night, she felt exposed. She felt ashamed for behaving so brazenly, and for liking it. For not being more truthful with him, yet feeling trapped into keeping her secrets.

  “You’re blushing.” He traced his finger along her jaw. “That was amazing, and overdue, I think.”

  “Yes, well, I certainly didn’t plan on it,” she sighed. “We’ve scratched this itch, so we can go on with the next few weeks keeping our secret, right? Nothing more. That’s what you said.”

  “I said we’d keep it quiet. I never said it’d be just one night, Emma.” Wyatt frowned. “Is that really all you want?”

  Emma sat up, looking for her discarded clothing. “I think it’s best that we keep this compartmentalized. Nothing has changed. You’re still taking off on your tour, and my life is here, with my mom and my friends. Let’s just enjoy this night for what it is and let it go.”

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling while she slipped out of bed to get dressed.

  When he didn’t respond to her conclusion, she said, “I should sneak upstairs and let you rest. You’ve got yoga in five hours. The last thing I want is to mess with your training routines, Wyatt.”

  He propped himself up on his elbows, giving her a gorgeous view of his eight-pack abs and exquisitely carved chest. All lean and wiry, formidable, just like him. “I could argue with you, or I could let you go and bet that the memory of what just happened will be enough to change your mind tomorrow.”

  “Pretty cocky.” She teased, although deep down, she knew the memory would keep her tempted.

  “Gold medals do that to a guy.”

  She threw a pillow at him and then picked up her shoes. “‘Thank you’ sounds weird, but I guess I can’t lie and pretend I didn’t enjoy this little ruse you cooked up.”

  “See, it’s already working.” He wiggled his brows. “Tomorrow night you’ll be knocking at my door.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “I have other tricks up my sleeve.” He winked. “Curiosity will eat at you.”

  “I’ve got to go.” She leaned down to give him a quick kiss, hoping he couldn’t see the curiosity burning in her eyes. “Sleep well.”

  “Oh, I’ll sleep like a baby.” He flung himself back against the pillows.

  Emma crept out of his room and headed toward the stairs when Mari reached the second floor with a diet Coke and an apple. Apparently this group had odd eating habits, and really unfortunate timing.

  “Sneaking out of Wyatt’s room so late? He said that kiss on Twitter was just a bet, but now I’m not convinced.”

  Emma tapped into some nerves of steel and waved Mari off. “Wyatt had texted me that his radiator wasn’t working right and his room was too hot. So I stopped in to check on it and fix the problem.”

  “And did you?”

  “He should cool down now. No worries. He’ll be up and out of here on schedule tomorrow.” Emma smiled as if everything were perfectly normal. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m exhausted from the party. See you at breakfast.”

  Emma jogged up the stairs and closed her bedroom door, wondering how in the hell she would interact with Wyatt without giving away their secret. Heaven help her if Mari caught on to the deception. It didn’t take a genius to know that Mari wouldn’t respect any boundaries, and Emma couldn’t afford for a woman like that to start snooping.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emma kept to the kitchen while Wyatt and Ryder practiced yoga with Amanda. Images from last night kept distracting her from preparing breakfast. She placed her cool palm against the burning heat of her cheek.

  All morning she’d been tottering on wobbly legs, as if the inn had transformed into a ship and set sail on choppy seas. Regret wouldn’t be the right word to describe the uneasy sensations blowing hot and cold within her, although Lord knew she’d never look at Room 201 the same way again.

  Sadly, she hadn’t much experience with sex. Still a virgin at twenty-three, she’d finally done the deed with Tommy Feeney, whom she’d dated for several months prior, and several more afterward. Theirs had been a sweet, pleasant kind of lovemaking. One in which she’d felt some genuine, if not earth-shattering, connection. A year or so later, she’d dated a ski school instructor, Scott Heinke. He’d been a bit bolder and more adventuresome, but the relationship ended with ski season’s closing. He’d never returned to Sterling Canyon, and she hadn’t really missed him once he’d gone. In both cases,
living with her mom had prevented her from fully enjoying the relationships. Any privacy occurred at their apartments, and only rarely did she find a way to spend the night without raising her mom’s suspicions.

  And then there’d been Wyatt—impossibly young, impossibly glorious, and utterly unforgettable. As much as a peculiar mix of pride and embarrassment over the one-night stand had driven her out of that hotel room in the wee hours, it had not prevented her from reliving the splendor of him over and over.

  Those memories had sustained her, and then fed her story, which in turn spurred new fantasies. Never did she dream Wyatt would waltz into her life again. That she would abandon all caution again to experience the all-consuming passion he inspired. She couldn’t know if her inexperience had something to do with her vaunted opinion of his skill, and at the moment she didn’t care. Wyatt may be younger, but he was simultaneously adorable, sexy, and seductive.

  And yet, even now, what they shared could be little more than a shooting star racing across the sky, doomed to burn out. Should she take Kelsey’s advice to heart, abandon her misgivings, and enjoy the present without worrying about December, or next spring, or however long it may take after he left, for her to forget him? Would it be worth the potential pain? The lies and secrets?

  Good grief, the fact that she didn’t automatically say no only proved she hadn’t learned anything from her parents’ mistakes.

  She rubbed her temples, exhausted from overthinking. Deep down, she knew she probably would be knocking on his door, just as he’d predicted. Oddly, she could barely muster indignity at the thought, despite knowing all the risks.

  For now, she’d return to being the polite innkeeper in front of Ryder, Mari, and the crew. Friendly, solicitous, accommodating. She’d also make sure Wyatt understood that she wouldn’t be subjected to Mari’s questions.

  Heaviness settled around her heart when forced to admit the mounting lies of omission—with family and friends—that proved her quite adept at deception. Still, her best shot at fooling Mari, Ryder, and everyone else, was to avoid Wyatt in public as much as possible.

  When she heard the kitchen door swing open, her body involuntarily tensed.

  “Can I help with the j-juice?” Ryder asked.

  “Sure.” Relief mixed with disappointment washed over her, loosening her muscles. “Do you remember how to work the juicer?”

  “I think so.” He crossed to the sink to wash his hands, and then looked at the fruit bowl. “What should I use?”

  Emma wiped her hands on a towel before joining him at the other counter. “How about a simple tangerine and grapefruit combo. Sound good?”

  “Okay.” Ryder began peeling the fruit.

  Grateful for his taciturn nature, she returned to stirring the steel cut oatmeal and latched onto a reason to turn her thoughts away from Wyatt. “How’d you like the pottery class?”

  “It was great. I’m g-good at it.”

  The hint of pride caused her to glance over her shoulder in time to catch him grinning. A smile started in her stomach and worked its way up to her face. “Jack Crawford is a wonderful teacher and a super nice guy.”

  “He said I could come by the studio whenever it’s convenient.”

  “That’s great. Maybe you can make me a mug or something before you leave at the end of the month.”

  Ryder fell silent while the juicer whirred. Between batches, he finally asked, “Will you miss W-Wyatt when we go?”

  The question stunned her. Wyatt surely hadn’t confessed, so Ryder must’ve seen the stupid Twitter picture, or heard them last night. Oh, shoot. His voice had maintained its uninflected tone, which left her unable to guess which answer he’d prefer.

  “I’ll miss you both.” Not a lie, yet not exactly truthful. Emma wasn’t prepared to discuss Wyatt with him, especially not when the soreness from last night accompanied each step.

  Ryder merely grunted, which she suspected was his subtle way of calling her out.

  Wyatt then burst in to the kitchen, bright-eyed and full of energy, looking way too handsome for her to handle so early in the day. A bubbly mix of uncertainty and desire made her tongue-tied.

  “Good morning, gorg—” He stopped in his tracks when he saw Ryder. “Oh, I didn’t know you were in here.”

  “Obviously.” Ryder snorted. When he pressed another batch of fruit through the juicer, Emma was glad for the disruptive noise.

  She took advantage of those precious seconds to collect herself and play it cool in front of Ryder. With a cordial smile, she glanced at Wyatt. “Breakfast is a few minutes away, so why don’t you go grab a seat and relax.”

  Turning her back, she bent down to retrieve small bowls for raisins, brown sugar, and almonds. Wyatt stepped closer and murmured, “I thought we made a deal last night. No more turning your back on me unless it’s in invitation.”

  Emma cast a quick glance at Ryder, who was loading the last batch of fruit into the juicer. She glared at Wyatt while jerking her chin toward Ryder’s back. His brother may have some clue about the situation, but they didn’t need to advertise, either. “I have a bunch of toppings for the oatmeal, and I made some turkey bacon, too. I already set out yogurt, fruit, and water in the dining room if you want to get started. You have a schedule to keep.”

  Ryder took the pitcher of fresh juice and started toward the door. Apparently determined to keep Wyatt’s priorities in check, he said, “Come on, let her work in p-peace. We should talk about using drones to pick your lines before we head out anyway.”

  “I’ll be there in a second.” Wyatt stared at Ryder without blinking until his brother shrugged and left them alone, then he turned back to her. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” She kept chopping almonds. “I’m trying to get your breakfast on the table.”

  When he crowded her, she had to repress a small gasp.

  “Are you seriously going to treat me this way after last night?” he demanded.

  Emma pressed her lips together, feeling awkward and irrational, but still committed to her plan. “We agreed to keep things on the down low.”

  Without hesitation, he gripped her wrist and dragged her to the pantry. He closed the door behind them and then pulled her into a kiss. Apparently compartmentalizing meant different things to him than to her. His hands clamped around her waist and his voice became husky. “I wish you would’ve stayed the night. I was in such a frenzy, it went too fast.”

  She pretended that she was in control of the situation. Pretended her knees weren’t buckling, her body wasn’t blazing like a summer sunset, her heart wasn’t banging against her ribs in response to his touch.

  “I can’t stay all night or we’ll get caught, just like we could now if Mari comes searching for either of us.” She laid her hands on his chest to push him away, but found herself gripping his shirt instead.

  “I’ll hide in here if she does.” He cupped her face and ran his thumb along her jaw. The tender gesture burrowed into her heart, filling it with heat. “I’m so relaxed this morning. I have a feeling today is going to be my best day yet. You may be my good luck charm.” He kissed her again, this time trailing his mouth down her neck.

  A whimper escaped her throat because she could too easily be seduced and risk exposing them both. She forced herself to ease away. “Wyatt, we need to act indifferent toward each other in front of everyone. Please. Go talk to Ryder about the drones. I really would hate for you to get hurt because you’re losing focus.”

  “I want to see you again tonight.” His hand slid down her back and around her butt. “Will you sneak into my room?”

  Her heart beat faster, but something—conscience, caution, self-preservation?—held her back. “Maybe.”

  “If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you.” His sexy smirk made her smile, even though she should be irked by the blackmail.

  “Please go before everyone wonders what’s going on in here.” She pushed at his chest. “Treat me like an innkeeper, okay?”


  A peculiar heat lit his hazel eyes, making the green glow against the golden brown. Her body responded in kind.

  “Actually, having you be my serving wench could be a fun bit of role-playing later, too.” He glanced around the pantry. “Maybe we can make use of that honey, or the chocolate sauce.” He winked and then opened the pantry door.

  A sudden vision of him licking either of those sticky, sweet foods off her body made her swallow hard. She willed herself to contain her whorl of emotions and calmly stroll back to the counter. Setting the little bowls on a tray, she asked, “Can you hold the door open for me?”

  He did as she asked. Ignoring the gaze she felt boring through her back as Wyatt followed her into the dining room, she set out all the food while greeting Mari and Buddy. Thankfully her phone rang, giving her a perfect excuse to absent herself.

  “Excuse me.” She glanced at the screen, which then caused her heart to stop its banging and drop to the floor. Covering her dismay, she said, “I’ll be back to check on you all in a few minutes.”

  Emma slipped into the kitchen and drew a steadying breath. “Hey, Mom. How are you and Aunt Vera enjoying the trip so far? Do you love Chicago?”

  “We went to the art institute, the 360 Chicago building, the Adler Planetarium, and did some shopping at the Water Tower. The city is very busy, and very big. I can’t imagine wanting to live surrounded by skyscrapers, although the lake is pretty.”

  “It sounds exciting to me. Lots to do.”

  A pause warned Emma that her mother was thinking of how to state whatever it was she was about to say, and that it probably wouldn’t be particularly pleasant.

  “Well, it seems you’ve found your own form of excitement, despite being stuck in a small town. In our very small town, where everybody talks, Emma.” Admonition colored her words, and Emma knew right then that someone had informed her mom of the kiss. Good grief, if anyone had been privy to the happenings in Room 201 last night, Emma’d be banned from the premises.

  Hoping to divert the conversation, she ignored the bait and asked, “When do you go to DC?”