Something tells me that this man has them too, a whole pile of them. It’s in the way he claims me, the way he demands me as his own, he has a past and just as I’m sure he most assuredly cannot handle mine, I’m not sure if I can handle his as well. Something tells me, something screams that I can’t.
Chapter Fifteen
WYATT
My mother lifts a brow as I try to leave the makeshift quickie reception. “You haven’t come over for dinner,” she snaps.
“I’m sorry Mama, been workin’ my ass off,” I grumble.
She reaches out and pinches my shoulder. “Don’t curse.”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“Who is she?” she asks. “Please tell me it’s not Sammi,” she practically pleads.
Shaking my head, I lift my eyes to hers, my lips unable to keep from turning up into a smile. “Ain’t Sammi. She’s a nurse over at the hospital. She ain’t ready to meet y’all yet, but when she is, I’m gonna bring her by the house,” I explain.
“Not ready?”
I let out a grunt. “She’s skittish, real shy,” I explain.
Mama tilts her head to the side, her eyes searching my face, for what I’m not sure. I wait her out though, if I know my mama at all, she isn’t about to be rushed on her assessments, of anything.
“A shy good girl would be a nice change to the fast women you’ve always liked,” she murmurs.
Though I’m not sure what she’s talking about, the only girl I’ve ever brought home was Sammi. I narrow my eyes on her and she rolls her own.
“This town talks, and since you don’t go to church, I get an earful from everyone there, every Sunday.”
I can feel my face heat and I know it’s about ten shades of red. My mama has heard about me sleeping around, and honestly, no mama needs to hear that about her son. I bite the inside of my cheek, looking down at my feet and wondering how I’m going to get the hell out of this and fast.
“Mama…”
She holds up her hand, shaking her head. “Don’t want to hear it. I know you’re a man, but it’s high time you settle. I want to meet her and if you don’t bring her ‘round the house in a snap, I’ll find her myself.”
Without another word, she turns on her toes and stomps away from me. A low whistle sounds behind me and I turn around to see my dad grinning like a fucking fool at me. He’s about my height, his once dark brown hair and short clipped beard is turning grayer every time I see him.
“You done pissed her off good,” he chuckles.
“Is it so bad that I want to be comfortable with Exeter and her me before I bring her home?” I ask.
My dad shrugs. “Your mama’s been waiting for a while for you to let go of Sammi, of the past. She’s excited, you can’t fault her for that. She sees Rylan settling with a family. She wants the same for you,” he murmurs, his eyes connecting to mine, holding me and never wavering, just like he always has.
“She’s it for me, Dad,” I say. My dad blinks, his eyes widening and then a smile slowly spreads on his face, but it won’t last long. “She has something ugly in her past, she’s hiding it from me,” I admit.
My dad’s smile falters, then his lips press close together. He takes a step toward me, his hand lifting and grabbing hold of my shoulder with a squeeze. “You think your mama didn’t come from somethin’ real ugly?” he asks.
I gulp, nodding my head as I think about Rylan’s drug addict father, who just so happens to be my mama’s brother.
“You ain’t gonna fix her, not ever. Don’t try. But you know what you can do? You can love her. You can show her that her past doesn’t define her future, that she can live a good clean life at your side. Just love her, even when it’s hard, even when shit gets really fuckin’ ugly, because it will,” he says, his voice is like steel, his body held tight like granite.
This man has experience. He knows what I’m getting ready to involve myself in and he’s not warning me to run.
“Love her,” I repeat.
I do, fucking hell I’m falling in love with her, every second of every day I fall a bit farther. I didn’t think it was possible, didn’t think that I would ever find someone, but there is something different about her. Something intriguing, sexy and wonderful.
“Love her,” he repeats back. “Don’t give up, even when she pushes you away, and she will. Call me, I’m here for advice if you ever need it, son.”
My father releases my shoulder and walks past me, toward my mom. Turning my head, I watch as he opens his pickup door for her, wraps his hand around her waist and helps her into the passenger seat. I’ve seen him do it a million times, but somehow, this is different. It’s like I’m seeing him, seeing them for the first time, ever.
Turning toward my own pickup truck, I make my way over to it, climb inside and start the engine. I have pizza and ice cream to get for my girl. My dad was right, I’m not going to fix her, but I can be there for her. I’m not letting her go, no matter how hard she tries to push me away again, I won’t allow that shit. I’m in it for the fucking long haul.
EXETER
I pace the length of my small living space. It’s after eight and he’s not here, but I shouldn’t be upset. This should be a good thing, so why do I feel so damn anxious about it? I’m overtired, that must be it. I need to go to sleep, I need to forget about him, forget everything.
Placing my hand against my rapidly beating heart, I know that it’s too late for that though. It’s too late to forget him, forget his touch, his kiss—much, much, too late.
There’s a knock on the door and I practically jump out of my skin. Making my way over, I check the peephole. My heart skitters in my chest, skipping a beat and then frantically races as I see the man on the other side of the door. There’s a paper bag dangling from his fingers and two pizza boxes stacked on top of one another with a six-pack of beer resting on top of them.
His eyes lift and it’s as though he can see me through the small hole in the door. My breath hitches as his lips twitch in a small smile.
“I know you’re there,” he drawls.
Biting my bottom lip, I wrap my hand around the doorknob and take a step back. Slowly, I open the door and his lips break out into a wide smile as his eyes scan down my body. A shiver rolls through me at his perusal. I’m wearing a pair of leggings and a tank top, no bra, my hair air drying from my shower and no makeup.
“Fucking hell, worked twelve hours and you still look like a goddamn wet dream,” he grunts as he takes a step inside of the trailer.
I watch as he makes his way over to the kitchen and sets the boxes, beer, and bag down on the counter. Then he turns to face me. It’s then that I realize he’s wearing a black button-down shirt. It’s clean and crisp, it looks like something he’d wear on a date.
“Where were you tonight?” I blurt.
His eyes soften and he tilts his head to the side. “A wedding,” he murmurs.
I watch as he turns, taking the paper bag and walks over to the freezer. He shoves the bag inside with my freezer burnt meat that will most likely make its way in the trashcan later rather than sooner, especially since it’s probably been there for a decade or longer as it is.
“Rylan and Channing tied the knot at the courthouse,” he shrugs, then turns around to face me.
“They did?” I breathe.
He nods slowly, his feet making their way toward me, his eyes darkening with each step. “No bra. Fuck,” he rasps once he’s right in front of me, centimeters from my body.
His head is tipped down, his eyes completely focused on my chest. I watch as he licks his lips then reaches for the hem of my tank. Wordlessly, he peels it from my body. Lifting my arms, I let out a hiss when the cool air touches my already sensitive and peaked nipples.
Wyatt does this to me, he makes my entire body ignite. He makes me sensitive, needy and greedy as all hell. I’ve never felt this way before, I don’t know if it’s healthy, but it feels so right. I find that even if it’s unhealthy, I don’t mind.
�
�I thought we were eating?” I ask breathlessly.
He lifts his eyes, a smirk planted firmly on his lips. “I’m fixin’ to, sugar.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but it is, my nipples harden even more at his words. Pressing my thighs together, I exhale a shaky breath as I attempt to alleviate the ache growing at my core.
Wyatt reaches for my leggings and tugs them down, groaning when he realizes that I’m not wearing panties. Shifting, I step out of the stretchy fabric. Standing completely nude before him, all of my dips, curves, and rolls on display. Yet, still, I don’t feel anything but beautiful.
“That coffee table strong enough to hold a person?” he asks, lifting his chin toward the makeshift coffee table that I built myself out of crates that I bought on sale at the craft store.
“Yeah, it’ll hold me,” I whisper.
“Sit,” he grunts. “Spread.”
He sounds almost animalistic, but it isn’t a bad thing, no, it makes me shiver with desire that much more. I want him, I want all of him and I want to do whatever he wishes to do to me, I welcome it. Slowly, I lower down onto the coffee table, spreading my legs once I’m perched on the edge.
“Show me,” Wyatt murmurs, his eyes focused on my pussy.
Inhaling a deep breath, I reach between my legs and use two fingers to spread my lower lips apart. He grunts, dropping to his knees in front of me. I feel almost powerful like this. He’s fully clothed, and I’m completely naked and spread for him, but the way he’s looking at me, it’s clear that I am in control, at least for the moment.
“Wyatt,” I whisper.
He lifts his eyes, looking up at me through his long lashes. Then he leans forward, and I feel his tongue flatten against my pussy and he licks me in one long motion. When he reaches my clit, I expect him to pull away, but instead, his lips wrap around me and he sucks gently, his eyes never leaving mine.
Keeping my hand between my legs, my other one grips the edge of the coffee table as he flicks my clit with his tongue. He quickly licks me, focusing all of his attention on the nub, the aching and needy nub.
My thighs shake as I attempt to hold them, my feet arched as I press the ball of my feet into the ground, keeping myself open for his wide shoulders.
Wyatt groans against my center, his mouth licking, nipping, sucking on every part of me that he can. My eyes flutter closed as my head drops back.
I feel his tongue slide across my fingers between my legs every so often and it sends a shiver of need throughout me. Everything he does, even a simple touch of his tongue to my finger is erotic as hell.
He focuses on my clit again, this time, he lifts his hands and wraps them around the backs of my knees, holding them out farther than they are, and he devours me like never before. He eats me as though there is no other source of food or water anywhere else in the world but between my legs.
My breath hitches and my head lifts as my entire body spasms and I come. He doesn’t stop, his mouth only works me harder and when I let out a cry and my hand slips on the coffee table, only then does he lift his head. His hand wraps around my waist to steady me, a gleam in his eye, and my wetness covering his dark beard.
“Sugar,” he murmurs.
I shake my head, my face feeling hot from his simple word, combined with the way that he’s looking at me. The way his eyes are roaming over my face.
“Wyatt,” I exhale, my entire body limp and languid.
“Now, let me feed you,” he grins.
My eyes widen and I sit up a little straighter. Before I can respond, he stands, walking away from me. I don’t speak, my eyes too focused on the way his jeans hug his ass and thick thighs spectacularly.
Wyatt is big all over, not with fat, but the man obviously does manual labor for a living and it shows. Nothing on his body was earned in a gym. I lick my lips, starving, and not because I’m hungry for pizza.
He turns around, two boxes in his hands and lifts his chin toward the bedroom. “Get in bed,” he orders.
“I don’t eat in bed,” I lamely state, still naked with my legs spread on this damn table.
Wyatt’s lips lift, my wetness still covering his beard, which makes my face feel a hundred times hotter and I know it’s bright red.
“You do now. C’mon, sugar,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t give me even a moment to protest, he just walks toward my room. I watch him for a few moments, still in awe of his spectacular ass and thighs. Then, I stand to my feet and shuffle after him. He’s already under the sheets, the covers pulled up to his hips, his bare chest on display and a pizza box open when I walk into the room.
My mouth waters, but not because of the food, because the dark smattering of hair on his chest, it makes me want to feel it against my hard nipples when he’s inside of me. It feels amazing, hell, everything he does feels amazing. With a shake, I force my feet to move and climb into the bed beside him.
“Eat, then we’ll continue what I started,” he murmurs.
I reach into the box, taking out a piece of all meat pizza. I would tell him that I prefer vegetable pizza, to seem more ladylike, but it would be a lie. Unfortunately, I have the appetite of a man with a woman’s metabolism.
It’s a daily struggle.
We eat in silence, then once he’s demolished an entire pizza and I’ve had two slices, he does exactly what he promised, and he finishes what he started, except he starts all over again and eats me until I come against his tongue—again.
Chapter Sixteen
EXETER
I sigh as I hear the front door close, then lock. It’s Monday. Wyatt officially lives with me, at least for the next thirty days. His offer was accepted on the house and property, Saturday and he’ll be closing escrow in just thirty days.
He packed his things over the weekend and rented a storage space, only bringing some of his clothes here to my place. We moved in together in a quiet ease. I cleared out a drawer and took all of my off-season clothes to the closet in Emily’s room.
Now I’m living with a man, and so far, I have no reason to complain. He wasn’t kidding when he said he would pay me in orgasms. I’m tender and satisfied like I’ve never felt before. I sigh, closing my eyes with a smile. I don’t have to get up right away, so I decide to bask in my afterglow for a few more moments.
It doesn’t take me long to fall back asleep, my morning dreams are filled with Wyatt, of his tongue and his cock. When my alarm sounds, I stretch with a smile and sit up in bed. Reaching for my phone, I tap the stop button for my alarm, then begin to scroll through my text messages.
WYATT: BE HOME WHEN I CAN. I CAN STILL TASTE YOUR PUSSY ON MY BEARD.
My face gets hot just from his typed words. He’s naughty, deliciously naughty.
My pussy is still wet from your mouth, and your cum, I respond, biting the corner of my lip.
WYATT: 34 FT IN THE AIR. WANT ME TO FALL? FUCK. SUGAR.
My heart slams against my chest, the image of Wyatt plummeting to his death is the only thing that I can imagine. My phone vibrates again, my body jerking when it does.
WYATT: I’M ALWAYS SAFE, EXETER.
Stay that way.
WYATT: YES MA’AM. SEE YOU TONIGHT?
Working all night. See you in the morning.
WYATT: CLIMB UP ON ME WHEN YOU GET HOME. NEED TO TASTE YOU BEFORE I GO TO WORK.
Yes, sir.
WYATT: FUCK YEAH.
I giggle, setting the phone down and slipping out of bed. It doesn’t take me long to shower and get dressed for work. I don’t have to go in for a few more hours, but I decide to stop by my MawMaw’s before I start my shift. With this new relationship and Wyatt, I haven’t been spending as much time with her lately.
I make my way toward her house, lost in a daze, in a lust filled haze of thoughts of Wyatt, of our future and my silly dreams of what could be. What could be if I wasn’t such a damn fucked up mess, if I was good enough for him.
Pulling up to my MawMaw’s, I push the driver’s door open and head
toward her front door when something out of the ordinary catches the corner of my eyes. It’s a bright blue older Chevrolet. It’s my father’s pickup truck.
I don’t know what he’s doing here. I freeze at the sight, my entire body locking up just at the pickup in the driveway. Then I hear the screen door slam closed and my body jerks, my head whipping around to see him standing on the porch. He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, looking relaxed, but I know it’s fake. Just the look in his eyes, it tells me that he’s anything but relaxed.
“What are you doing here? She’s not your concern,” I bark.
He smirks, it’s cocky and disgusting looking, just like him. He slowly strolls down the stairs, as if he has all the time in the world, which I’m sure he does since he’s a lazy bastard.
“Just checking on my mother-in-law, nothin’ wrong with that, is there, girl?” he asks.
He’s too close. Standing right in front of me, his cold blue eyes staring down at me, causing sweat to bead on my back. In fact, my entire body feels like it’s raised its temperature about ten degrees. He lifts his hand, extending his finger and I hold my breath as his index finger traces down the side of my face, stopping at the center of my bottom lip.
“You didn’t answer me,” he purrs. My stomach roils. “Such a shame you left me. You were so good to me,” he murmurs.
“You’re sick,” I hiss, unmoving.
He shrugs, his finger trailing down the center of my chin, my neck, and stopping just at the collar of my V-neck scrubs.
“Maybe, but you came, and you liked it,” he grins.
I close my eyes, hating his words as much as I hated my own body’s reaction to his touch back then. He’s not wrong. Physically, I did come. I cursed myself every single time. I was confused, I didn’t understand. He told me it meant that what we were doing was right. I didn’t know, I was so young, so manipulated.
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