Use Somebody: Plantain Series Book Four

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Use Somebody: Plantain Series Book Four Page 18

by Amelia Oliver


  His eyes scan the crowd and then he nods while looking back at me. His warmth leaves me and I squeeze between two patrons, resting my elbows on the smooth wood surface of the bar.

  “Daisy, what’s up girl?” Courtney says from the other side as she wipes her hands on a white towel.

  “Courtney,” I smile.

  “Vodka and cranberry?” she questions.

  “And a beer,” I add and “Cuts you Up” by Peter Murphy starts up.

  “That for that tall drink-of- fucking-hottie I saw you with?”

  My interest piques at her noticing him. “Yeah, that’s Wyatt,” I shout over the music and leaning in.

  “Let me guess, gay, or taken?”

  I laugh. “He’s my boyfriend.”

  Instantly the word hits me, slowly warming my soul.

  “Damn girl, not much I wouldn’t do for a cock like that.”

  Destiny? Is that you?

  “Really?” I ask. “Like what would you do?” I ask nonchalantly.

  She gives me a look. “Ohhhh no,” she smiles making my drink, “you and I are cool, I don’t want to start something-”

  “No, no, like honestly,” I tell her.

  “Honestly?” she asks taking the cap of the beer bottle.

  I nod.

  “I’d suck his dick for sure, he looks like he’s hung like a camel, is he? No- don’t tell me, I’ll be salivating more than I already am if I have a visual.”

  She says this while looking over my shoulder and probably at Wyatt himself.

  “I have a proposition for you,” I tell her.

  “What took you so long?” Wyatt asks as I get to the table finally.

  “I was talking to my bartender friend,” I say loudly, turning and pointing at Courtney.

  He nods when he sees her.

  “I think she’s so pretty,” I tell him.

  Courtney’s hot, jet black hair that’s kinky with waves and usually loosely piled on the top of her head. She has tattooed sleeves on both her arms and her tongue pierced. Her eyes rimmed with black and wearing black leather leggings and a grey crop top. I watch Wyatt as he studies her a little.

  “Yeah, she’s okay.” He lifts a shoulder and faces the dance floor.

  “She’s coming home with us tonight,” I tell him, then also look at the dance floor.

  I see out of the corner of my eye when his head turns and he faces me. I don’t know how he feels about this, but I decided it was best to tell him instead of springing it on him at the last minute. But maybe that was a mistake because no matter how hard I try to enjoy myself, waves of negative keep pouring off Wyatt.

  “Do you not want to do this?” I finally ask him some time later.

  “No, it’s fine,” he replies.

  I bite my lip and try to figure out my conflictions of feelings. Then his arm snakes around my shoulder, pulling me close as he tilts my chin up.

  “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it when you told me…of course I want to do this for you,” he says and leans down to kiss me. “Now go out there and dance for me,” he says against my mouth.

  I smile at his words as he palms my ass and gives it a smack. We stay until close, and even though I recall his words and he’s trying to seem cool, I feel his vibes telling me something else. After last call, I approach Courtney and she has to stay over and clean up the bar. So I describe my truck and tell her we’ll wait in the parking lot for her and she can follow us home. My hands are shaking as Wyatt takes one, linking his fingers through mine. He lifts our hands and kisses mine, giving me a reassuring look. I don’t want to tell him as we sit in my truck, that I have a sinking feeling. I’m not sure why, if it’s nerves or excitement, but it’s growing. Courtney comes out and gives us a wave as she starts her car, and I give her a minute before pulling out to the street. Wyatt and I don’t talk the entire ride, and I’m glad I volunteered to drive to take my mind off my fears. I pull up and Wyatt gets out.

  “I gotta use the bathroom,” he tells me right before taking the steps two at a time up to the loft.

  I wait for Courtney, who’s pulling her purse off the passenger seat before she exits and gives me a smile.

  “This is crazy,” she tells me as she walks closer.

  “Yeah, I’ve never done anything like this,” I tell her.

  I take her hand and we walk up the steps, entering the loft and flipping on a light. Wyatt’s still in the bathroom and I move to the kitchen.

  “Drink?” I ask her, clicking on the stereo with the remote sitting on the counter.

  “Yes, please,” she says sheepishly.

  I go in my secret stash cupboard and pull out a bottle of tequila, cracking the seal as I twist off the top.

  “Perfect,” she says coming up beside me.

  I take down three of my short glass cups from the cabinet since I don’t have any shot glasses and set them on the counter. Pouring a finger of alcohol in each. Courtney grabs two of the glasses and hands me one.

  “Cheers,” she says clicking the rim of my glass.

  I take a small sip and inhale sharply, easing the burn. She downs the contents and fills her glass again, just as I hear the bathroom door open and Wyatt appears to my right.

  I hand him the third glass and he takes it, also downing it before taking my glass and downing that too, then handing them both back to me. I’m still surprised at his actions when he cups Courtney’s face and kisses her hard, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. She gasps in the unexpected movement, and I take her glass before she drops it. She melts into his lips, her hands bracing his biceps. Her tongue tries to slip into his mouth as I see the metal of her piercing peeking out, and his brow furrow before he opens his mouth for her. She moans and pushes closer, her hands moving to his neck, then down the front of his shirt. His body tenses and his muscles flex, his arms fall to his sides and his hands ball into fists so tightly his knuckles turn white. Her fingers run along the hem of his shirt, tracing the top of his jeans and my breathing picks up. Their lips still fondle as she quickly undoes the button and zipper, and since he didn’t wear underwear, she reaches in for his bare flesh. My eyes bounce between her hand and his face, waiting for the reactions he has to me when I do this, but it’s not there.

  “Come on,” Courtney says to him, “get a little hard for me.”

  Everything about his body language is telling me, he doesn’t want to do this. And thank fuck, because I can’t watch this.

  “Stop,” he finally says pulling back, pulling her hand from his pants and looking at me. “I can’t do this.” He looks at me with something in his eyes that he’s letting me down.

  The rush of emotion that comes over me at that moment, nearly knocking me over.

  “What?” Courtney asks.

  “Yeah, maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I state, looking at Wyatt.

  “Oh,” she says looking between the two of us.

  I watch as Wyatt disappears again down the hallway to the bathroom.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell Courtney.

  “No worries, if you guys change your mind, you know where to find me,” she shrugs walking to the door.

  I open it for her, “Drive safe,” as it’s begun to rain and close the door behind her.

  Immediately I rush for him, my heart racing, sensations sparking inside me and igniting me up. He’s walking back out into the kitchen and sees me.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say no, you never say no to me when we do things-”

  My body slams into his, my lips crashing against his. His body relaxes as he groans and pulls me against him with his strong arms.

  “I didn’t want it either, watching her with you- I didn’t like it, I didn’t like it,” I repeat in between swipes of his tongue.

  Thunder crashes outside as Wyatt lifts me, his hand pressing against the back of my head to kiss me deeper.

  “Why…why, couldn’t you do it?” I ask, pulling my head back to look down at him.

  Our breaths pound out, chests
heaving, his eyes looking between mine. His paw of a hand runs over my hair as he says, “Same reason you couldn’t either.”

  I whimper and bring our lips back together, taking his meaning as he loves me, because fucking hell I love him. He carries us up the steps with effortlessness, and I pull my dress up and over my head along the journey. He sets me down on the bed and I rise to my knees, finding his lips again as I remove my bra and he pulls his shirt over his head. My hands move to his jeans and he pulls them away.

  “Lay back,” he pants.

  I scooch back on my knees and sit on my butt, I made my bed that morning so my pillows are propped up and prohibit me from laying down completely. My eyes stay riveted on his hands as he undoes his jeans and uses his feet to kick off each boot. He bends down to remove his pants from his feet, along with his socks and I lick my lips at seeing his glorious hard dick standing erect. His knees sink onto the mattress as “Intro” by the XX comes on over the speakers. His hands glide up my calves to the snaps of the garter belt and the top of my stockings, undoing them and sliding the smooth fabric down and off, one by one. Another flash of lightning fills the space, followed by a window shaking boom of thunder, and that pretty much sums up how I’m feeling right now. The way he’s looking at me, the way his touch causes my limbs to tremble and heart swell. He grasps the garter belt and pulls it down my long legs, followed by my G-string.

  The sound of rain drops pouring onto the skylights is loud in the loft, but I can still hear both of us breathing hard and fast. My shoulders and head are propped up-right on the pillows, and I watch the glorious naked man before me. His abs tighten as he strokes the head of his penis tight and slow, as he approaches me on his knees. I open my legs and spread them before his eyes, tucking my thighs up to my torso, my feet pressing into his ribs as he slides in and leans down to kiss me. I feel folded, trapped, and condensed as Wyatt cages me with his massive frame. He’s on his elbows and knees as he thrusts his hips forward and back, and we both look down to see his cock disappearing inside me. His hands cup my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks and jaw as he kisses me. Our tongues taste and tease, but this is serious. This is the most serious sex we’ve ever had, and I know it’s because something’s shifted between us. My eyes close as he kisses down to my neck, as my arms wrap around his shoulders, my hands caressing his back. His muscles flex under my fingers, our bodies moving together as one. It’s overwhelming, this sensation. This is more than sex, even though I always feel like he’s been this intense every time we’ve been intimate, it’s just…more. He raises his head and lifts an arm, pulling the mountain of pillows away from beneath my head, then he’s linking our fingers and placing our hands above us. We kiss again, his hips moving faster, and I feel myself on the edge of climax. His hands squeeze mine tight as he raises his head again, locking eyes with me, and then I come. My eyes glazing over with pure elation, my body tightening as he remains transfixed on me, and he orgasms.

  With panting breaths, I close my eyes and his face falls into the crook of my neck. A moment later, he starts kissing me again, remaining inside me. As if a light bulb just went off, I have the most significant epiphany of my life. I realize it’s not pain; it was never pain I needed during sex. It was always raw, animalistic attraction. Attraction I have to Wyatt, and only to Wyatt. Blake couldn’t get me off because I’m not insanely attracted to him. I like the sex we’ve had, shit, I love it. But I was thinking something was wrong with me when Blake didn’t light my fire. There was nothing wrong with me, Wyatt and I just made love and I came harder than I have ever before. The storm rages outside, but I’ve never felt so calm inside before. Everything seems like it’s clicked into place, that all the choices I’ve made up until this point were the right ones. I fall asleep with Wyatt inside me, and wake to him moving behind me. Knowing we don’t have to worry about him leaving before dawn, checking the clock, or sneaking around, is awesome.

  14

  DAISY

  It’s still raining outside, which is fine since we plan on staying in. Wyatt makes us breakfast in bed, and that’s where we stay the majority of the day. To be with him like this, carefree, and just being together for once where time means nothing, I’m reveling in it. In the late afternoon, his phone keeps pinging down stairs, and I finally tell him to go get it.

  “Do you want me to go pick up dinner?” he asks coming back upstairs with his phone in hand.

  “We can go somewhere together, why what’s up?” I ask sitting up.

  “The owner of the club keeps calling me, he wants me to bring I.D.’s.”

  “On a Sunday? Is that normal?” I ask as he slips on his jeans.

  “No,” he shakes his head and I can see tension in his body. “It’s not, and it makes me feel weird about it.”

  I throw the blanket off my legs. “How about I come too, then we can go get dinner.”

  His brows are pinched together as he looks at me, unsure of my idea.

  “Daisy, I want to keep you as far away from this as possible,” he sighs.

  “I’ll drive and drop you off, I won’t even go inside.” I smile kissing the tip of his nose before going to my dresser for clothes.

  We swing by his parents’ house so he can get the fake I.D.’s, and the whole trip to Bannister, Wyatt is nervous. I don’t understand why; I know he said this isn’t normal but still. His hands wring together with mine in between, and I do my best to take his mind off it. I make comments about the rain, about a song on the radio, but all he does is nod and look out the window.

  “Just circle the block, I’ll be back in ten minutes, tops,” he tells me as he closes the door.

  I wait until he’s inside the entrance to the club and out of the rain, then drive to the end of the street. I stop and look in both directions before making a right, driving slowly since the streets aren’t very long and I need to kill time. I debate parking on the other end of the street and just waiting for him. But as I weigh my options on what to do, I hear a siren, looking up in my rearview mirror to see a cop car behind me. Then another squad car stops in front of me, blocking my path and I slam on my brakes, looking around in confusion as I put the truck in park.

  “Get out of the car with your hands up!”

  I hear behind me, what the fuck? I undo my seatbelt, opening the door and exiting with my hands in the air. There are two police officers in front of me, with guns drawn. Oh my God, what the fuck is happening. Before my brain can comprehend, someone tackles me from behind, and I smack the pavement hard with the front of my body. Everything happens in a flash, I’m handcuffed and then pulled up to my feet as they tell me not to resist. An officer escorts me to the back of a cop car, and I can feel my lip’s been split from hitting the ground. But all this is such a shock to my system that it doesn’t seem important in what’s going on. Officers search my car, is that legal? They go through my purse, papers in my glove box, everything. I look out the window and down the street toward the club, and see Wyatt walking down the sidewalk toward us with his head down. Then he looks up and freezes. In an instant, he takes off running in the opposite direction. Was he serious? He’s just leaving me here? Not coming over to see what the fuck is going on? The driver side door opens and I begin ranting.

  “What’s going on? I think you have the wrong person, I wasn’t doing anything-”

  “Save it,” the officer tells me.

  I watch him enter my license information into the computer mounted to his dashboard.

  “I’ve never been in trouble before, look, not even a ticket…this can’t be happening,” I babble.

  “Stop talking.”

  I hiccup, was this seriously fucking happening?

  “What have I done?” I ask repeatedly.

  He ignores me, moments later leaving the car and me alone. A tow truck comes and I watch helplessly as my truck’s hooked up to the rig and driven away. Then the officer comes back to the car, and we begin to drive, following the tow truck.

  “I want my phone, I
need to call my parents,” I state.

  “You’ll have one phone call when you get to lockup.”

  The urge to scream, to kick the shit out of the back of his seat has me gritting my teeth. My arms hurt from being pulled back for so long, and the handcuffs dig into my flesh. Even though this isn’t what I want, it centers me, the pain making the fear dissipate slightly. I wonder if Wyatt went to call my parents, if they’ll come to the station and get me. Even though we’re not in Plantain, the cop drives me there, pulling up in the back of the station. It’s dark out now, and the cool air is refreshing on my heated skin. As I’m being walked up to the door, it opens from the inside and I see Chief Milton, Blake’s dad. I look at him, scared as fuck, and he looks down at me like he really can’t believe this is me here. The two men exchange words and hand me off like a child via the handcuffs. Milton closes the door behind us, as he guides me in front of him down a long brightly fluorescent-lit hallway. He stops me by jerking the cuffs, and unlocks a door before opening it, pulling me back a step so I can enter. I sit in one of two metal chairs at a table, and the metal at my wrist clank against it. I’m shivering with fear and from the cold air conditioning blasting against my back from the vent behind my seat. Milton grabs the other chair and pulls it closer to me, opening a manila folder and reading over something inside.

  “What happened tonight?” he asks.

  “Other than one of the cops busting my lip?” I ask in a moment of sheer pissed-off-ness.

  Milton furrows his brows and looks at my lip. “I’m sorry and I’ll be speaking to the officer’s involved…so, other than that, what happened tonight?”

  “I was driving around, and then the cops pulled up.”

  Instinctively, and for a reason I don’t understand, I don’t mention being there with Wyatt.

  “What were you doing in the neighborhood?”

  “I was lost.”

  He looks at me for a long time, and I maintain eye contact with him because I feel like he’s trying to intimidate me.

 

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