by Lola StVil
“Oh and there’s some pizza cookie thing. It’s really just a large chocolate chip cookie that they make and call it a pizza. You know, like cookie pizza?” Oh my god! Winter, shut up! Shut up, shut up!
“Anyway, they also have that if you want something sweet,” I conclude.
Dear God, if you can somehow keep me from making an even bigger fool of myself than I have already, I promise I will never ask for another thing as long as I live…
“Thanks, but I’m really not hungry. I’m just gonna take a shower and go to sleep. Unless…did you need something?”
I need you.
“Nah, I’m good,” I lie as I swallow hard.
“Good,” he replies as he heads for the shower. I enter the bedroom and close the door behind me. Shit! He’s still pissed and what’s worse, he sounds…distant. Like his mind is somewhere else. A thought hits me, a sad, awful thought that makes me sit on the edge of the bed, in deep sorrow.
What if Wyatt’s done with me?
No! Winter, you always overthink things and make them a thousand times worse in your head. The two of you just had an argument. That’s it. And just because arguments with Danny always lasted days doesn’t mean that is the case here. He’s just tired and wants to go to bed. That’s not too much to ask for, right?
Bed…
Wait! Okay, I can fix everything in bed. Now, I’m not saying I’m freaking Rihanna in bed or anything but maybe if I cuddle up to him and place my hand on all the right places…crap, do I know all the right places?
You’ll figure it out as you go along! Now go get sexy!
I look through my suitcase, and the female patrol officer who packed my things must be sent from heaven. She packed some of my favorite lingerie. It’s a black sheer baby doll with a small red bow in the center. If he gives the bow one good tug, it opens the top right up. I put it on, take my hair down, and wait.
You know how moms get that super adrenaline rush when their kids are in harm’s way and they can somehow muster up like a million times their strength? Is it possible that seduction skills work the same way? What I mean is, does the fact that I really need to seduce Wyatt somehow kick all my “sexy know-how” into high gear? God, I hope it does.
I hear the water turn off. My heart is racing and my hands are suddenly cold as ice. Shit! Cold hands are not sexy! I quickly cup my hands around my mouth and blow into them. Okay, better. I rush over to the other side of the bedroom, where I threw my purse. I look in the inside pocket and find the small perfume bottle I keep for emergencies. I spray a little on myself and run back to the bed.
I hear footsteps; I quickly perch myself on top of the bed. But at the last moment, I grab the magazine by the nightstand and pretend to be glancing at it. That way I won’t look so…posed.
Okay, I’m ready, baby!
But the footsteps don’t get louder. In fact, they sound further and further away. Soon they stop and I don’t hear anything. Did he go to the kitchen to get some water? I get up, open the bedroom door, and look out. I see Wyatt throwing a blanket on the sofa, along with a pillow. He lies down on the sofa and closes his eyes.
Wow, we really are over…
I already know she’s standing above me because I inhale her fragrant scent even before I open my eyes. It’s been less than fifteen minutes or so since I lay down to sleep on the sofa, and now, I’m awake to find her kneeling in front of me. The light from the street bathes part of the living room and illuminates her face; God, she’s beautiful.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask.
“You’re sleeping on the sofa. I drove you away from your own bed, in your own house,” she says, clearly upset.
“No, it’s not like that. I just figured maybe you wanted your space,” I reply.
“No, I don’t want space from you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Very,” she says in a firm tone. I sigh and start to say something but then decide against it. She reads my hesitation.
“Wyatt, please talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind,” she insists. It’s not that I don’t want to talk, I’m just not sure I will want to hear her responses. What if my suspicions are true and this thing only goes one way? Normally I’d never be so off the mark but when it comes to Bright Eyes, there is no normal.
“I thought that you had issues trusting guys but then when you went to Decker…”
“I made it seem like I trusted him and not you,” she concludes to herself.
“I don’t know what else to make of it,” I admit.
“The reason I didn’t go to you is because I needed you. And that need scared the shit out of me.”
“Yeah, I get that. I do. But…Decker…”
“There is nothing between the two of us. He’s a good guy who tried to help me out. It’s you that I keep thinking about. It’s you that makes my stomach flip when you enter a room. And when my phone rings, and I see that it’s you on the other line…I feel like I won something. Something wonderful.”
“It’s the exact same thing for me but I just don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. I’d hate to be that guy with you. I need to know, am I in this thing alone?”
“My locksmith thinks I have a crush on him,” she says.
“What?”
“He’s about seventy-two, bald, and has a glass eye. He thinks I like him because I keep coming into his shop to remake the same key over and over again. He thinks I’m using it as an excuse to see him.”
“I don’t get it, why are you going there so much?”
“I made you a key a while ago. Then I threw it away because I thought you’d think I was being pushy. But then you gave me a key and I had another one made. Then I got freaked out and threw it out. Only to go back and get it copied again.”
“Wow, and how many times…?”
“Let’s put it this way: I might need to take out a loan to pay off my locksmith.”
“Aw, babe! That’s crazy,” I reply, unable to suppress a smile. “Why didn’t you just have one made and give it to me when you’re ready?” I ask.
“I’m ready,” she says, handing me a shiny silver key.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am. If you still want it—it’s yours,” she says sincerely.
“I do want it, babe, but for us to work, you have to talk to me. You have to be able to trust me and I have to be able to trust you.”
“I know that, but you have to believe I’m trying, I really am.”
“I know. And look, I’m not saying you have to get over your past in one day but we have to deal with that together. You can’t go to someone else—another guy—for help. I’m not gonna lie, baby, that shit really fucking hurt.”
“I know. I’m sorry. From now on, it’s the two of us,” she says, taking my hand in hers.
“And it’s okay if that freaks you out, just tell me so we face it, don’t hide.”
“Deal,” she assures me.
“And please, please don’t confront any more gang members. My heart can’t take that shit,” I inform her.
She laughs. “I promise,” she says, looking into my eyes.
“You should get some rest, babe, it’s after midnight.”
“Argh, damn it,” she says.
“What is it?”
“I was supposed to call Bree and check on her before she went to bed but in the chaos, I forgot. She probably thinks I abandoned her.”
“It’s okay, I called her earlier. She’s good—considering.”
“Wait, you called Bree?”
“Yeah, we exchanged numbers back at her house. I just called to see if she needed anything. We talked for about twenty minutes; she’s a tough chick. I like her.”
“You called to check on my sister?”
“Yeah, she’s important to you, so she’s important to me,” I reply. Her eyes narrow and she looks at me as if it’s the very first time she’s seen me. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?�
� I ask.
“You’re a good guy.” She says it mostly to herself. Then she looks deeply into my eyes again and speaks in the sultriest voice I’ve ever heard. “Mr. Hunt, I’m gonna need you to lie back.”
Before I know what’s happening, she gets on the sofa and straddles me. She lays her body on mine and rains down a series of hungry, slick kisses on my mouth. I greedily accept her offering. Her ravenous mouth sucks on my tongue with the fury of a hurricane. I growl and thank god I didn’t go to bed with a shirt on.
She bathes me with her lips and makes my cock stiffen in a matter of seconds. I hiss as she curls her tongue around my nipples, sucks and licks them in a feverish frenzy. I go to take her sheer lingerie off but she slaps my hands away. “You’re taking the night off, Mr. Hunt. Sit back. Relax. I got this.”
She pins my arms under my head and warns me not to move from that position. I watch her make a trail of kisses down my body; she glides her lips over the spot right above my crotch and ignites all my nerve endings. She nibbles on my inner thigh with her soft lips and makes me groan with anticipation. My dick stands erect, ready for the same attention.
She makes her way between my legs and she wraps her hand around the base of my shaft. My cock’s too thick for her fingers to meet and too long for her to take in without strategically repositioning her mouth. I’m thinking she’ll be overwhelmed and will most likely hesitate. I am wrong. I am so fucking wrong. She grabs a firm hold of my member like it’s her property. She stares down at my dick like it’s an unruly beast she’s about to tame. She opens up and takes my cock so far into her mouth, I can feel the warm lining of the back of her throat.
Christ, that feels good…
Just being in her mouth makes me pant and groan like crazy. But when my baby starts sucking, sliding and slurping up and down my dick, I can’t keep still. Her rhythm is so good it slows down time. She starts from the underside of my dick and works her way up and around to my tip; she’s licking her favorite ice cream. She cups my balls between her fingers and massages them as she claims my cock.
“Ohfuckohfuck.” I groan as my hips push forward to get even more of me into her mouth. She doesn’t shy away; she moves her head with rhythm, authority, and skill. I’ve never been this fucking hard before—never.
It’s not just how good it feels in her mouth; it’s her desire to please me that’s got me so hard I could fucking weep. She moves her lips, tongue, and fingers like I am the only thing in her world. I groan as she sets my whole fucking body on fire with her mouth.
I grab her hair and wrap my fingers around her long stands. She ensnares the tip of my dick with her tongue; drops of liquid ooze out and makes their way to the surface. She glides it on her lips like it’s lip gloss.
“Oh, you’re so fucking dangerous, baby…shit!” I moan as my world spins off its fucking axis. She doesn’t stop, or even slow down. She mercilessly conquers every fucking part of me until I can’t take it and am forced to sit up and beg, beg her for mercy.
“FUUUUUCK!” I growl as I sit up and hold on to her for dear life. My body is convulsing out of control as she takes in every inch of me. I can feel an ocean of lust and longing about to shoot out of me. “Ba-baby, I’m coming.” I give her a chance to pull away, but she doesn’t. She sucks even harder and opens her mouth wider. “Winnie baby, shit!” I cry out as a warm surge shoots out of me and into her awaiting mouth.
Exhausted and thoroughly milked, I collapse back onto the sofa, taking her with me. I pull her up so that she is on top of me, and we are once again face to face. There’s a knock on the door, and she motions to get up and go answer it.
“No.” I groan as I tuck her head under my chin and pull her into me. I wrap my arms around her with what little strength I have left.
“Wyatt, someone’s at the door. Don’t you wanna know who it is?” she purrs.
“I don’t give a fuck who’s out there. My whole world is in here…”
The person at the door turned out to be Logan, we found out a few hours later. He came around and knocked again, and this time Wyatt was home. The two of them talked outside in the hallway for a few moments and then he was off. I can’t wait for Wyatt to come back inside so I can try to get him to talk about whatever is making him look so sullen.
“I thought Logan was gone already,” I begin.
“He’s on his way out of town, now.”
“Where’s he headed?”
“You never know with Logan.”
“Were you two arguing? You looked really upset when you first came back in the house,” I reply.
“No…we’re not arguing,” he says as he goes back to slicing into the veggies he’s prepping for dinner. I place my hand on top of his and take the knife away. I don’t say anything—I don’t need to. He knows we have to talk and he knows that I’m listening. So I take out two beers, hand him one, and sit across the counter, waiting for him to find the words. I know what’s that like, it’s not fun at all. He starts to drink his beer and by the time he’s ready to talk, nearly all of it is gone.
“Every year on Rose’s birthday, one of us goes with my mom to see her grave and to pay our respects. Then we take her out to dinner at Rose’s favorite restaurant and…everyone has gone to Rose’s grave but me. And Logan thinks this year it should be me that takes my mom. He’s on assignment out of the country, and everyone else is pushing for me to go with her.”
“How often do you visit Rose’s grave?” I ask.
“Never.”
“Wyatt…”
“I can’t, okay?! I can’t think of her like that—in the cold ground. Sometimes I miss her so much fucking the only thing that gives me any peace is thinking she’s just out of town or away for a while. If I go to her grave…then she’s dead.”
I feel my chest tighten and a lump forms in my throat. I reach and place both of his hands inside mine. “Baby, she is dead. Pretending doesn’t change that.”
“That’s just the half of it. Taking my mom there, watching her break down…I can’t do that,” he says as he walks away and heads to the bedroom. I follow and find him sitting on the edge of the bed, with his head down. I sit next to him and remain silent until he’s ready to talk again.
“Rose had such a big mouth. I can’t tell you how many times she would tell on us and get us in trouble. She wanted to tag along when we were kids and we had to take her with us or we didn’t get to go. Man, we hated that. But no matter how much we pushed her away she’d come back fighting. She never let us make her feel like she was too weak, too fragile, even though we were all three times her size. She was quick with a dirty joke, quick with an insult and laugh. She had a really good laugh, that kind that makes you want to join hands.
“And the guys would come for her and we always blocked them. In fact, you even so much as look at our baby sister and we’d punch your damn face in. She complained to Mom that if we didn’t stop she’d have to go into the nunnery. We said that’s right because she was never ever gonna get laid; not on our watch. No guy was allowed to touch her. We made her dating life hell. But I think she secretly loved it. She knew we had her back no matter what.”
“Aw, that poor girl! Having to put up with you and the rest of your brothers. If any of them are like Logan, that poor girl deserved a medal,” I reply.
He laughs. “She gave as good as she got. Growing up, Logan had a thing for this girl on our block; her name was Jessica. All he wanted was to go out with her, that was his dream girl. A few weeks prior, Logan had scared away this guy that Rose really, really liked. She waited like three months for him to ask her out. And then Logan scared him away by threatening to kick his ass if he even showed up for his date with Rose.
“Rose sat back and carefully panned her revenge. Logan was on punishment for skipping class, and had to volunteer at a free clinic in Brooklyn. Rose convinced Jessica that Logan was there so much because he had caught an STD that had yet to be identified yet. She’d find these obscure illnesses and convince Jessic
a that Logan had them.
Jessica stopped returning his calls and I swear not one girl would agree to go out with him. Logan didn’t get laid for like a year and no one could figure out why. When it came out, he chased Rose down the block with the nearest object he could find—an ice cream scooper. He threatened to lobotomize her. Jessica added his name to all these crazy mailing lists at the free clinic. And at least once a year Logan would get these STD pamphlets. Last year, he got one for bubonic plague!” he says, unable to contain his laughter. I join him, loving how his little sister got her revenge. When the laughter dies down, he inhales deeply and looks into my eyes. God these eyes…
“I haven’t thought about that in years,” he admits.
“That’s just it, Wyatt, Rose had a full life and by going to see the grave you relive not just the bad but also the good. She only dies if you keep stories like that about her to yourself. You guys loved her, give life to her memory. Remember her.
That way she’s never really gone.”
“Will you…I mean…I’d like it if you were to come with me—with us.”
“Sweetheart, I’m wherever you need me,” I reply, then bring his face closer and kiss him gently.
***
I spend the next few days being buried in paperwork and being put on hold. The insurance company is paying us only a fraction of what we need in order to get the center back to what it was before. All the programs that normally hand out money to programs like ours have already allocated their annual budget and so there is nothing left. I’m trying to see the bright side but it’s getting harder to stay optimistic. Wyatt is trying not to step in and offer me money. I appreciate that because it would feel wrong to take it. But I do accept a generous number of neck and shoulder massages from him.
Work isn’t the only part that sucks right now. Jana is avoiding my calls and I want to help but I can’t if she doesn’t let me. I went over to her apartment twice already and she wasn’t home. I left a bunch of messages, and if she doesn’t get back to me soon, I’m going to camp in front of her place. I don’t want this thing to put any distance between us.