by Skye Jordan
Gypsy took the condom from the packaging and reached between them to stroke his erection. “Now who’s impatient?”
“Most definitely me.” Wyatt pulled her into a kiss that obliterated all thought.
She rubbed the head of his cock through her wetness, and a guttural sound rolled from his throat before his hips rocked forward. He pushed into her, slow and patient, stealing her breath. And little by little, she took him completely.
He exhaled hard. “Fuck, Gyp… You’re so…”
“So what?”
“You’re so…small.”
“Love me the way you want to. I promise I won’t break.” She slid a hand around the back of his head and pulled his mouth to hers. She licked into his mouth, kissing him deep and wet. “This is your chance, Rockstar. Show me how much you want me.”
Something shifted in his expression, and he suddenly looked intense. Serious. Fierce.
His thrusts were slow and deep, but not everything she needed. Not everything she knew he had to give.
With her gaze holding his, Gypsy gripped his ass and dug her nails in, then lifted into his thrust. A look of ecstasy washed over his face. His lids fluttered. His jaw rolled. But he kept his moves measured and slow. Pleasure layered inside her, lifting her toward orgasm far sooner than she expected.
She lost herself in the moment, meeting Wyatt thrust for thrust. Too quickly, the pleasure peaked, broke, washed over her. She heard her own cries in her ears. Wyatt’s lusty growls of pleasure.
But when she floated back to earth and opened her eyes to the stars painting the sky, Wyatt was still deep inside her, and he was still hard. His face was pressed against her throat, his breath quick and raspy. Every muscle remained tight, one hand still fisted in her hair, the other gripping her ass, holding her against him.
“Jesus,” he murmured against her skin. “You blow my fucking mind.”
“I think…that’s my line.”
His hips rocked, and he slid easily inside her. “You ready for another?”
She thought about the words a second, but couldn’t get her mind to understand them. “What?”
He lifted his head and looked down at her, his expression serious and lust drenched. “Not sure I can hold out for more than one”—his lips lifted in a lopsided smile—“but I’ll give it the old college try.”
Gypsy laughed softly. “Oh, dude, you’ve already proven your rock star status. I’m lucky if I get one, and I don’t think it’s ever come that fast.” She combed her hand through his hair. “Let’s just get the same for you.”
A slow smile crept over his face. “Well, now, you’ve just stoked my competitive spirit, sugar.”
She laughed. Her heart felt light, her chest loose, her body satisfied in a way she hadn’t felt in longer than she could remember. Then he started to move again, and pleasure drifted through her, shoulders to toes.
He pushed up and rested on his forearm. With the other, he reached overhead. Gypsy tilted her head to look back and was surprised to find his hand gripping the steel edge of the truck bed and the cab. She had no idea they’d moved that far. And the sight of his corded forearm overhead trilled excitement into the pit of her stomach.
Wyatt added power to his thrust, determination in his gaze, and hunger in his kiss. Gypsy’s body rocked with the force of each thrust, stealing her breath.
Almost immediately, his hand slipped from her hair to the back of her neck, gripping hard to keep her body from sliding toward the cab. Sweat slicked their skin, and Wyatt’s hand slipped. His next thrust shoved her toward the cab. Gypsy reached overhead and planted a hand against the wall of the bed, alongside Wyatt’s. He wrapped his free arm low on Gypsy’s waist, bracing her hips against his forearm. The move tilted her pelvis up, making his body connect with hers in a slightly different, but even better place.
“Oh shit,” she murmured just as an orgasm came out of nowhere and rocketed through her. It hit harder than the first. A wicked peak that made a sound of surprise rip from her throat, but never had a chance to fade, because Wyatt was on a fucking mission.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he murmured, his gaze latching onto hers. “Ride the waves, sugar.”
Sweat dripped off his chin, hit her chest, and slid between her breasts. Their bodies met with the hard slap of wet flesh. Her body rocked with each hit, creating a double tap of pleasure, once on the initial thrust, then again when her body rebounded against the force.
“Oh my G—”
Another orgasm splintered through her, deeper and richer than the last.
“Fuck, yeah,” Wyatt rasped. “Bring it on, sugar. Bring. It. On.”
She braced both hands overhead, locking her elbows to find the strength to combat Wyatt’s full-body thrusts, and her body arched as if in offering. She felt possessed. As if Wyatt had awoken a sleeping, insatiable monster. She couldn’t comprehend this level of pleasure. Felt completely out of control.
A whimper bubbled out of her throat as she felt another climax rise.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she heard herself beg. “Oh my God.”
He dropped his head, covered one breast with his mouth, and growled, wringing another orgasm from her overwrought body. As soon as she returned from another trip to the stratosphere, she put a hand to his face, gripping his jaw until his eyes focused on hers.
“No more,” she breathed, barely a whisper. “No more.”
Wyatt covered her mouth with his and relented to his own pleasure. He was like a hurricane, blasting through every last wall Gypsy had erected over the last three years. And when he finally came to rest, just like the storm, he left her barriers in tattered disarray.
13
Wyatt paced a small room outfitted with one-way glass that looked into a kindergarten classroom where Belle sat in storybook circle time.
After researching all the local schools and calling a few celebrity friends with kids, he’d opted on a well-known private school for Belle. After talking with his bandmates who had kids, he realized that Belle might need added security and decided he’d rather be safe than sorry.
Wyatt had been told he couldn’t stay in the classroom with her because it would interfere with her actions and reactions, so he’d spent the last two hours watching her play with the other kids and work with teachers through the glass. He’d also been thinking a lot—about how to manage his career while also being the best dad he knew how to be to Belle.
The school’s administrator told him he could leave and they’d let him know how she did when he came to pick her up, but all he could think about was what Gypsy had said three nights ago. Wyatt, she lost her dad, and pretty soon, she’s going to learn she lost her mom. How do you think she’s going to feel when you tell her your leaving too?
He hadn’t been able to leave her since, and she’d become his sweet little sidekick.
Wyatt needed to tell her about her mom. Belle had been asking, but he’d hopscotched around the answer. She’d been excited about the prospect of moving up to kindergarten, and he didn’t want to add another change into her life—a major one—until she’d settled into school.
Now that she knew where she would go every Monday through Friday, Wyatt would tell her about her mom. Then he’d ask where she wanted to live. And they’d start setting things up for the future. But, songwriter or not, he still had no idea what to say or how to say it.
Belle was sitting in a circle with other kids her age, mesmerized by some book the teacher was reading. The classroom was brightly decorated for spring with grass and bunnies and pastel-colored eggs. Wyatt leaned his shoulder against a wall and let his mind drift to Gypsy, the way it had every day since—wow. That’s how he thought of that night with her, just off-the-charts, mind-spinning, life-altering wow.
A smile drifted over his face. A tingle rippled through his heart. She might not be convinced of it yet, but he knew. Nothing had ever been this right.
Movement in the classroom drew his gaze, and he refoc
used on Belle as the kids transitioned into another activity. His heart grew heavy again. Gypsy had been right on so many counts—that his life would never be the same, that Belle had to come first, that she would bring him joy he’d never imagined. But, Jesus, what a learning curve.
Gypsy had also been right about managing a relationship in the midst of all this crazy. Between Belle, Cooper, and the bar, there hadn’t been a moment when they were both free at the same time, which made the last three days since their soul-rocking evening feel like an eternity.
The door opened behind Wyatt, and he turned to find the school’s administrator, Kelsey Knight. She was young and pretty and gave him the same sparkly-eyed look he often saw in women’s eyes. But she wasn’t seeing him, not the real him. She saw the flash, the fame, the money. And that just made Wyatt miss Gypsy more.
When Gypsy got sparkles in her eyes, Wyatt knew they were for the real him, big fat flaws and all.
Kelsey stood next to Wyatt and looked through the glass. “She’s a delight. And so smart.”
“That’s good to hear.”
His attorney had called ahead and required the staff to sign an NDA so news of Wyatt’s new status as a sudden father didn’t leak to the press. Turned out there were quite a few kids in this school with celebrity parents. He’d been assured by one of the moms in Gypsy’s mommies’ group that this school gave celebrity children the most normal school experience.
Wyatt didn’t know the difference. He’d been a normal kid. Gone to a normal school. No fuss, no fanfare. A big part of him wanted that normalcy for Belle. But that didn’t seem possible now.
“So, you think kindergarten is the right place for her?” he asked Kelsey.
“Definitely. And our self-paced learning program will keep her challenged, no matter what grade she’s in.”
He nodded, still unsure. Unsure this was the right place for her. Unsure how to tell her about her mom. Unsure when she should go to bed or wake up. Unsure of what to put into her freaking lunch.
“She’s fitting in with the kids well,” Kelsey said. “She’s already made friends. At this age, children are just children. They don’t treat each other differently because of who their parents are. We do our best to keep them insulated from threats, fans, and paparazzi.”
Wyatt’s teeth clenched. He hated having to subject Belle to all that. This situation definitely hooked into his emotional baggage and his fear of his fame smothering Belle. Or worse, isolating her.
“I’ll introduce you to our security team,” Kelsey said. “They’re top-notch, all retired military or police, but they’re good at being virtually invisible. We don’t want the kids to feel like they’re in prison. And our school counselor is the child of celebrity parents, so she understands what these kids go through in a way only one of their own could.”
The door opened, and Wyatt and Kelsey both looked that direction. The woman who entered looked directly at Wyatt, and her smile widened. “A little bird told me you might be in here.”
Wyatt laughed and turned to face Paisley Jessip. “Paisley. Aaron and I were just talking about you.”
She headed toward Wyatt, greeting Kelsey before she wrapped Wyatt in a hug. “It’s been too long.”
“I’ll give you two time to talk.” Kelsey moved toward the door, glancing at Wyatt before leaving the room. “I’ll be in the office when you’re finished.”
Wyatt pulled away from Paisley, still grinning. “You’ve got a kid here?”
Paisley glanced through the window. “My son. I’m in between tour stops, and I wanted to surprise him. I always take him out to lunch as soon as I get home. What about you? Last time I heard, you were still a bachelor at large.”
“Yeah well, I’m taking care of my niece.” He looked through the glass and found Belle laughing at something the boy was telling her. “The dark-haired little one in purple.”
“Then, it looks like you and I need to set up a play date.”
Wyatt’s brows shot up. “A what?”
“You really are new to this.” She lifted her chin toward the glass. “Your niece is chatting up my son.”
Smiling, Wyatt glanced at the kids again. “Maybe your son is chatting up my niece.”
Paisley laughed. “How long are you in town? We should get together and work on that duet if you have time.”
The thoughts of returning to work he knew and loved brought Wyatt an absurd amount of excitement. Any escape from this alien world of parenting and children. “I’d really like that. Any day this week when the kids are in school works for me.”
“Done. I’ll text you a day and time.”
A bell rang, and all the kids clambered for the line of backpacks hung on the wall.
“That’s my cue,” Paisley said. She gave his arm a squeeze. “Good to see you.”
“You too.” After Paisley left, Wyatt scanned the room and spotted Belle fluttering around like a butterfly with nowhere to land. He exited the observation room and was instantly surrounded by a flurry of children moving from space to space. Shrieks and laughter and voices filled the air.
“Belle,” he called.
She spun, spotted him, and smiled as she ran toward him. Dropping into a crouch and opening his arms for her felt as natural as breathing. She gave him a quick hug and immediately started chattering about everything she’d done that morning.
When she took a moment to breathe, Wyatt slipped in “Do you want to stay for the afternoon?”
“Yeah, they’re doing collage.” He hadn’t seen her this happy since her birthday party, and he was surprised at the relief that brought.
“Well, I guess you’ll need lunch, then. How does Taco Bell sound?”
“Yay!”
The short drive to Taco Bell was peppered with mini explosions of chatter from Belle about her morning. They ordered and found a booth in the corner. While Belle dug into her tacos as if she hadn’t eaten for a week, Wyatt’s stomach knotted, and his appetite vanished.
He took a deep breath and opened the conversation he’d been dreading for over a week. “Monkey, I need to talk to you about your mom.”
Her face opened with excitement. “Is she home? I can’t wait to tell her about school.”
A hot stab of pain cut at his throat. “Uh, no, she’s not. That’s what I want to talk to about.” He stared at the Formica tabletop and scraped his lower lip between his teeth. “Has your mom ever told you about where she’s from?”
Belle rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she finished off the shell of her taco. “Somewhere in Africa?”
That made Wyatt smile. “South America. You know her mom and dad live there, right?”
“Uh-huh.” She picked up her second taco. “I never met them, but I talk to Grandma and Grandpa on the phone.”
That was good news. Wyatt could just look over the phone bill to get their number. That would hopefully go a long way toward locating Francie. She might not be willing to come back, but Wyatt was going to do his best to get her to keep up a relationship with Belle. He and Belle had gone to see a child psychologist two days ago, who’d told Wyatt that as long as their communication was positive, any connection Belle could retain with her mother would help her adjust in the long run.
“Well, your mom needed to go be with her mom and dad for a while.”
Belle’s taco paused halfway to her mouth. Those pretty blue eyes locked on his, and concern fisted his stomach.
Wyatt found himself rambling to short-circuit the fear over Belle’s reaction. “You know, sometimes, it’s really hard to be a mom. And your mom loves you so much that she thought it would be better for you to live with me for a while, until she’s feeling better.”
Belle put her taco back on the tray. Her gaze turned solemn, and wrinkles appeared between her eyes. Fear ratcheted up in Wyatt’s chest.
When Belle didn’t say anything, Wyatt went on. “So it’s gonna be me and you for a while.”
Her head tilted. “Am I going to your work with you?”
“I’m still trying to figure that part out. When Grandma and Grandpa get back from their cruise, we’ll all sit down and talk about it.”
She continued to stare at him expectantly, but Wyatt didn’t know what else to say. “Are you…okay with that?”
Her frowned deepened. Her gaze went distant, as if she was thinking. And Wyatt felt like there was a piano hanging over his head.
“For how long?” she asked. “When will Mommy come home?”
Wyatt’s air stuck in his lungs. It took a long moment for him to unlock his throat and say, “I’m not sure, honey.”
When she finally looked up at him again, her eyes glistened with tears, and Wyatt felt a hot slice of panic and pain cut through his chest.
Before he could speak, she asked, “Will she be happier living with her mommy and daddy?”
The fact that Belle knew exactly how unhappy her mother was stabbed him in the heart. “Yeah, honey, I think she will. But not because she’s not with you. She really wishes she could be here, but she’s feeling sick right now.”
“Can I call her?”
“I’m working on that too, sweetie.” In fact, Wyatt had hired a PI just yesterday, and now he hoped he had a phone number to narrow the search. “It might take a little time.”
Belle stared at her uneaten taco for a long moment. “I’m not hungry anymore.” When she looked up, Wyatt braced for tears, but Belle only said, “Can I go back to school now?”
14
Gypsy should have known better than to listen to Miranda for advice on love.
While Cooper revved toy cars around tables and chairs and the bar, Gypsy multitasked, restocking beer, wine, liquor, and glassware. She glanced at her phone—again—but there was still no call or text from Wyatt. Bottles of Heineken clinked together as she filled one of the coolers, frustrated with herself for wanting to hear from him today.
She’d gone into their hookup with her eyes wide open. In her mind, she’d assured herself that it would be a one-off. A palate cleanser. Something to tide her over until she found a forever guy. But damn it to hell and back, she got way more than she expected. What was meant to be no strings and all fun had become all strings, and this turmoil inside was no fun.