I don’t know how to feel about this.
I just don’t know.
He shakes his head slowly, eyes shining. “I don’t. I’m sorry, so sorry… I want to. I know I should…”
“How is this even possible?” I ask, incredulously.
He brings my fingers to his face and then higher, not stopping until my index is grazing a faint white nick over his right eyebrow.
“I got hurt,” he tells me.
My heart drops in my stomach. “Hurt?” I ask, my voice paper-thin and shaky.
Wyatt nods once. “Shot,” he tells me, his thumb pointing at the little scar that breaks the pattern of his dark eyebrow.
My eyes grow even larger and my heart plummets even further as I fall forward into his chest, my arms shakily enveloping him.
“In the head?” I ask. “You were… shot in… in the head?”
I feel him nod again as his own arms come around my back and he holds on tight, his big body shivering even more than mine.
If I was sobbing before it has nothing on what’s going on with me right now as pain like I’ve never known in my life takes a hold of me, my mind trying and failing to process all the implications at once.
“When?” I ask.
“August 17, 2015,” he answers and my mind just fucking implodes.
Two days. He was shot two days after he left.
Shot… in the head.
My frazzled mind just can’t wrap itself around the concept.
Oh, God, he could have been killed!
I start peppering kisses all over his face, holding onto him with everything I have. “I was so lost without you…”
He shudders against me. “I know… me too. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
My hands grip at his beard as I pull him down for another kiss, my heart sliding in the driver seat, and just telling my brain we will worry about details later.
Details are fucking painful and scary. I don’t need them now.
I just need him.
“Wyatt, I need you,” I murmur on his lips and he groans into my mouth, his cock going from stiff to full-mast at my words, the pressure, the thickness delicious against my jean-covered core.
“I need you too, babydoll, so much,” he grunts.
I rock my center into his erection as he walks us around the car until we’re at the backseat’s door.
Wyatt hesitates.
“What?” I ask.
He looks down at me. “We can’t here, stupid fucking car is in the middle of the road. Let’s go home, it’s not far,” he tells me and promptly marches us back toward his pickup, his lips on mine the whole way.
Wyatt stops kissing me only when we are in front of the passenger’s door, then he quickly slides me in and walks around the car to get behind the wheel. He reaches for me again and starts to buckle my safety belt so lovingly and carefully, I can’t stand not to be in his arms a moment longer.
I stay his hands and crawl into his lap, he stares at me, dark eyes burning.
“Here?” he asks, his voice husky.
I nod. “I can’t wait.”
“Fuck!” Wyatt takes my mouth again and I feel the seat slide as far back as it can go while his hands desperately paw at my tee, and mine start to pull at the buttons of his uniform until it’s open on his chest, the warm cotton of his white undershirt greeting my fingertips as I work it out of his pants.
I feel him slide a hand under my t-shirt and as soon as he touches the skin between my shoulder blades I shiver.
He unhooks my bra and pushes it away roughly, his coarse fingers kneading at my breast as I grind onto his hardness, toeing my sneakers off.
He grunts in frustration when my shirt and bra tangle and get in the way, I go to pull them off me, but he stops me with a punishing kiss.
“No, babydoll: no getting naked here for you. I don’t want some bastard to see you. Do you want to send me to jail when I just got you back?”
I smile down at him, shaking my head, my hands stroking the short wavy hair at his nape. I remember this: how possessive he could be, but how can he feels so possessive of me now when he doesn’t even remember me?
Any further consideration flows out of my brain when I feel his cock rear powerfully up into the cradle of my thighs, turning my core into molten lava. My hands push down from his neck to go between us, not stopping until they are undoing his pants.
His hands go to the zipper of my jeans at the same time and he helps me wriggle out of them.
I feel two of his fingers push my panties to the side and plunge into my heat at the same time as I start to roll his tight boxers down his hard cock. My hands grip at his elastic as I gasp and rock against his hand.
“Fuck, you’re so wet, so wet, babydoll…”
“Oh God,” I moan, my hand cupping his heavy bulge as he grunts on my mouth, our lips molding together and our tongues starting to clash and swirl against each other until we both can’t breathe.
Wyatt frees his hard, long erection and then pulls his fingers out of my pussy.
He slips them into his mouth as I look on, my face going up in flames as he growls at my taste, making my clit pulse in want.
“So sweet, so sweet, my babydoll,” he mumbles, his face dropping against my neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps up and down my spine.
I feel him rip my panties and then my center is aligned with his cock, I feel the large, blunt head kissing my entrance and I shiver all over.
“Wyatt, please!”
I feel his teeth nip at my skin just as he lowers me down onto his erection until I’m so full there’s barely room for my own heartbeat inside of me.
He grips my ass and guides me as I start to roll my hips against his upward thrusts, his cock stretches me to the point of pain, but I don’t care: I love it. I haven’t felt this alive in five years.
Our rhythm picks up speed, becoming more desperate and more brutal with every stroke as we try to find our way to one another despite all the questions hanging between us.
“Everything is going to be okay now,” I tell him and I know it’s the truth.
Wyatt nods. “Yes, it will, babydoll. You haven’t told me your name yet, though…”
I try to speak, but pleasure like I forgot could even exist rushes through me, cutting my voice and my breath as Wyatt’s big strong hands clutch at my hips and he starts to slam me even harder onto his thick length, making me go off like a shooting star.
Chapter 6
WYATT
She’s about to speak when she starts to go off around me, looking like a goddess on top of me, her lovely face flushing pink, her deep-ocean blue eyes glazing over in pleasure as she shatters around my cock.
My beautiful babydoll…
I might not remember her, but I know she’s mine.
My woman, my life.
No wonder I was in so much pain, my heart remembered her even if my brain forgot.
“K-Kenna,” she gasps. “My name is Kenna,” she tells me as she slowly comes down.