“Is it?” My voice warbles and I can hardly breathe as the first of many tears blazes a path down my cheek. “Is it good, I mean? Because I’ve never been more terrified.” My hand flies to my mouth to cover a sob. “Not even at sixteen with a baby growing inside me, knowing her father wanted nothing to do with us.”
His thumbs swipe away the emotion pooling beneath my eyes, and he nods—ever so patient, so understanding. “It isn’t yourself that you have issues trusting.”
His words bounce around in my head, ringing out with glaring truth. “You’re right. The thought of letting anyone else into our lives, of exposing Prissy or even myself to that kind of pain…” I shudder at the thought, before hugging my arms to my chest. “I—I’m afraid.”
“Jump,” he pleads, curling his hands beneath my hair and around my nape. “And I promise to catch you.” His knuckles stroke over my jaw, slowly, fueling the fire burning inside me. “Let me love you, Whitney. Without restraint—the way you deserve. The way you both deserve.”
“Okay.” I nod, sniveling. “Okay,” I repeat with a little more conviction, because in coming here tonight, I’ve realized I’m already so far gone for this man that the only alternative is heartache. I tried. Oh God, how I tried, but I’ve failed miserably at locking him out. “Just don’t hurt my little girl.”
He tugs me closer, until my face is but an inch from his. “You have my word.”
“Then you have my heart.”
In an instant his lips are on mine, so soft and lush. His tongue is warm and seeking. And his hands—they’re everywhere all at once. And yet, it isn’t enough.
“Wyatt.” There’s an undeniable desperation to my voice as he scorches a path along my jaw to the shell of my ear. The heat of his breath has me buckling at the knees, quite literally melting for him.
In one fell swoop, I’m in his arms, with my eyes bolted on his.
“I want you,” I cry, my body trembling from the top of my head to the tips of my toes with unrestrained need. “Please.” Frantically, I begin fooling with the buttons of his dress shirt, eager to feel his skin on mine. One by one I pop them open and begin to trace his defined abs with my fingertips.
“No need to beg, love.” He nips at my lip before pulling back slightly.
My body screams out in protest.
“Bed, or couch?”
“Bed, definitely.”
He carries me to his room, gently placing me in the center of the mattress, the bulge of his biceps stretching through the fabric of his shirt as he crawls in over me. “You’re sure?” he asks, like I’m some delicate flower.
“Now isn’t the time for your games,” I warn, reaching to unfasten his belt and pop the button on his pants.
He chuckles, the deep warble thick with lust before trailing off as his intense gaze locks with mine. He lowers his body, his chest expanding with strength as he hovers over me, claiming my mouth once again.
My hips arch instinctively toward the ceiling as his roving hands reach around my waist and to my back, sliding underneath my cotton tee shirt. The access allows his skilled fingers ample space to quickly skim the band of my bra before finding the hook, releasing it with a simple flick.
Gritting my teeth, I shudder at the feeling of soft lace trailing against skin as he lowers my bra and pulls it from under my shirt. Every nerve is heightened. I writhe and squirm, my stomach twisting in knots with the need for his hands to be back on me. When his warm, calloused palm covers my breast, desire pools between my legs. Gently, he tugs at my nipple sending a jolt of pleasure shooting right to my core.
“Jesus,” he growls when I begin grinding my hips into the impressive bulge that’s been digging into my waist.
His sexy moans spur me on, giving me the courage to sneak a hand between us and cup him through his slacks.
Laughter rumbles from his chest when I gasp at his size, at how thick and solid, and just large he is. Dumpster sex didn’t give me a chance to take this all in properly.
“Does it meet your approval?” he rasps when I take my time exploring the tool now peeking out of the top of his waistband.
I run my tongue over my lips while staring up at him, his intense emerald eyes burning into mine. “It’ll do.”
His teeth clamp down on his lower lip and a whisp of hair falls over his forehead. “Oh, it’ll more than do,” he answers, nudging his knee between the apex of my thighs.
Without breaking from his gaze, I grip his zipper, sliding it down at an agonizing pace. “I want to see you,” I say, unsure where this boldness is coming from.
His brow quirks as if to say, “I’m right here.”
“All of you.” Our first encounter didn’t allow for any exploring. This time I want to feast my eyes upon every glorious inch of this man. I desire nothing less than the full experience.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he says, reaching to switch on the lamp on his bedside table, ever the tease.
I yank my shirt over my head, flinging it across his room. “Your turn.”
His eyes morph into twin pools of liquid lust, never leaving from my chest when he moves to stand at the side of the bed, shrugging the shirt that’s barely still draped over his body to the floor and stepping out of his slacks.
“Don’t quit now.”
He hooks his thumbs into the band of his briefs, skimming them back and forth a few times to fuck with me. “I believe it’s your move.” The elastic pops as he withdraws his hands, lowering them to his sides.
“So it is.” I roll over to all fours, crawling across the bed until I’m close enough to stick out my tongue and taste him. Rising up to my knees, I bring my lips to his pecs and begin peppering gentle kisses over the expanse of smooth tanned skin.
His muscles flex, and I can feel his heart pounding a little faster with every touch. “Whitney,” he moans, fisting my hair in his hands. His head falls back as I continue my path lower. Lower.
“So strong,” I whisper, slipping my fingers into the band of his boxer briefs. “Your body is flawless, Mr. Landry.”
“Ahh,” he sighs when I stretch the elastic over his ass and pull them down to his knees. That remarkable cock of his springs free from the confines of the fabric, jutting right at me. Taunting me.
“I haven’t done this in a really long time.” My tone is an apology in itself. Truly I should be more nervous, but I’m practically drooling at the thought of taking him into my mouth.
“Please.” His moan is a desperate plea.
“No need to beg, love.” A smile curls his lips when I throw his words from earlier back at him. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
I run the tip of my tongue the length of his shaft, swirling it over the head before wrapping my lips around his cock.
With a hiss, he kneads his fingers into my scalp, gently urging me forward.
There’s an undeniable sense of power that comes with knowing I’m the one responsible for the sexy little groans and grunts coming from this big, strong man. That, even if only for the moment, he’s completely at my mercy.
I curl my fist around the base, stroking to match the stride with which he’s driving into my mouth. When I feel his cock tense, I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks and taking him all the way to the back of my throat.