His other hand lifts and wraps around the top of the headboard, both arms extended above me, his knees on the bed and the only part of his body that is touching mine, aside from his cock, is the fronts of his thighs that rest against my shins.
“You feel so fucking amazin’, Exeter. Don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but goddamn woman, you feel so damn good. Best I ever had,” he rasps.
I bite the inside of my cheek as his eyes search mine. He pulls out of me slightly, burying himself deep with even strokes. I was on the verge before he sank inside of me, now the way he feels combined with his words, I feel so on edge that I can’t even form words.
Wyatt doesn’t say anything else, his eyes lock with mine and he makes love to me. It’s slow and steady, his strokes even, his breathing heavy. A sheen of sweat forms on his forehead, his arms shake above me and I know that he’s holding back as much as he can.
I don’t want him to hold back anything. Not a damn thing. I want it all. Everything he has to offer me.
“More,” I whisper.
His eyes close in a slow blink, then reopen and the fire behind them is beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. He rears back and thrusts forward, his hips slamming against me. He lets out a groan, and without having to ask me, without being able to control myself, I reach between my legs.
I’m so close, but I need more. His eyes flick down to watch as he slams into me over and over, nothing but short grunts escaping his lips. A drop of sweat falls onto the center of my chest, my fingers work furiously between my legs, almost painfully against my clit.
Gone is the sweet languid strokes, he’s fucking me now. It’s raw, pure, and perfect. This is what I needed after that nightmare. I needed the slight bite of pain, I needed to remember that we’re still alive, that he’s still alive—that we’re safe.
“Fuck,” he roars just as my pussy clamps down around him then begins to pulse.
I come, my entire body freezing solid. He growls as he empties himself inside of me, shuddering above me. My legs drop, I’m unable to hold them up for even a moment longer and at the same time he lowers himself against me.
His lips find mine, his tongue slips between them and he tastes me. Middle of the night, bad breath, messy hair, sweaty body. Wyatt doesn’t care. He kisses me like he’s been dying of thirst, like this is all he’ll have to drink for the next decade, like he’ll never get enough of me.
I fall in love with him, even more. I knew that I was falling. I tried to stop myself, but in this moment, I realize that I’ve fallen and there is no reversing that, not ever.
Chapter Twenty-One
WYATT
It feels like the weeks drag. They haven’t though. My foreman keeps me updated daily on the progress of the two hurricanes growing and moving slowly toward Florida’s shoreline. If they were quickly moving, then I wouldn’t be as worried, but their snail-like speed is concerning and I have a feeling that it will hit and it will hit hard and cause major damage, times two.
Thankfully, Exeter’s father has stayed away since the last run-in, at least as far as I know. I’ve checked on her trailer a few times and it looks undisturbed. My parents have also reported that all has been well with her grandmother.
Maybe I’m being overly cautious, but I can’t help but feel like this isn’t over with him. Sick, manipulative bastards like him don’t just disappear. They regroup and then come back for more. James, Jennifer, and Jacob proved that theory all on their own. I won’t allow it, not with Exeter.
Not with the woman I love.
I do too—I love her.
It happened as easily as our relationship fell into place. I fell in love with her and I know that she’s the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. I just need to confess my past, my story, and so does she—at least the rest of it.
“Dinner tomorrow night, double date?” I ask, looking over to Rylan as I pull up to his home.
He turns his head, his hand on the handle of the door. A smile breaks out on his face, an expression that used to be far and few in between with him, but somehow comes so fucking easy now, all day long.
“Been wonderin’ when you were going to ask,” he chuckles. “You know Channing’s been grillin’ me on your girl anyway. She’s dyin’ to meet her officially.” I watch as he jumps out of the truck. “Why don’t y’all come up to the house. I know you’re eatin’ out all the time since you been in the hotel.”
“Don’t want to put you out…” I say, letting my words trail off.
“Fuck that. You’re family. Bring dessert,” he calls.
He slams the door and I watch him walk away, into the home that he rents from me. The home that he shares with his beautiful, heavily pregnant wife. The home where I dreamed I would have everything that he does now.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
When this new place closes escrow, I’ll finally get the life that I’ve desired, the life that I should have had fifteen years ago. Except this time, it will be right, the right time and the right woman. Maybe I’m a fucking dick for thinking that about Sammi, that she wasn’t the right woman, but she wasn’t.
Exeter though, she’s the one. The absolute one for me.
Shifting the truck into drive, I pull out onto the street and head toward the hotel that I’ve called home for the past three weeks. Just eight more days until I close escrow on the new house and property, I can’t fucking wait. I’m so sick of this hotel, of the minimal space, of everything.
I want to fuck my woman in my bed—in our bed.
Pulling into what I’ve claimed as my parking spot at the hotel, I shift the truck into park and climb out. I glance to the right and notice that Exeter isn’t here. It shouldn’t surprise me, she works long hours and doesn’t always get off when she’s supposed to, depending on how busy they are.
The room is empty, just like I suspected, so I decide to send Exeter a text, asking her where she is. Stripping out of my clothes while I wait for a reply, I start the shower. I need to get the day’s dirt and grime washed from my body.
My phone alerts me to a text and I grin when I see it’s from her.
On my way to you, baby. Fuck, what she does to me.
I jump in the shower quickly, rinsing myself off and washing as quickly as I can. I’m sure that she’s going to be exhausted, but fuck, I can’t wait to have her again. It’s like I can never get enough of her, as if I know that she could leave me at any given moment, and I want to get my fill before she’s gone.
Because in reality, despite the fact that I’ve fallen in love with her, she could very well walk out of my life and never look back. The fact that I thought I was in love fifteen years ago and it was nothing more than a goddamn tragic nightmare doesn’t make me very hopeful when it comes down to the realization of life and choices that I cannot control.
Once I’m showered, I slip on a pair of sweats and run the towel over my hair to dry it a bit more, then do the same over my beard. I start to drop the towel on the floor but freeze.
Looking around the small hotel room, I realize that my shit litters the place. I remember Exeter’s irritation at me leaving my shit all over her house, so I decide to tidy up a bit. Once I’m finished, I look around and cringe, it’s not neat, not by a longshot, but it’s better than it was.