“What do you think about?” he asked, his thumbs still rubbing, his dick still pulsing.
“You.”
“What am I doing?”
“Fucking me.”
He groaned.
I pinched my nipples and I felt it straight to my center. “I need to ride you, Wyatt.”
“Do what you want, Sinclair. Take me to heaven, baby.”
I rose up on my knees and then lowered down. I wanted to take my time, but each time I rode him, the need to pick up the pace increased exponentially.
“Oh God…” I leaned forward, pressing my hands on his chest as I let my body take over and do what it wanted. I was wild with need, riding him hard and fast, my pussy coiling tighter and tighter around him.
“Yes…more…faster…baby… Fuck, I’m gonna come.” His fingers gripped my hips tight as he urged me to move faster. His hips bucked up, our bodies slamming together.
I cried out as he thrust up and everything in my body exploded. My pussy clamped down tight, exquisite pleasure radiated out until I was high on it.
A low feral growl tore from Wyatt’s mouth as he thrust up again and warmth filled my body.
“Fuck, keep moving…keep moving…”
My thighs burned, but I did as he asked, riding him, drawing out his orgasm until, after a final thrust, his body went boneless underneath me.
I was spent as well, collapsing on his chest where I could feel his speeding heartbeat. For a moment, it was ten years ago, and Wyatt and I were cementing our love with our bodies. But as quickly as the memory flashed, reality set in.
I just fucked my daughter’s father.
I just fucked the man I never told he was a father.
What was I doing? I’d gotten caught up in the moment. I suspected the booze hadn’t helped. My heart had gone out to him to hear his story. I suspected things hadn’t been great at home, but I never realized there’d been domestic abuse. Why hadn’t he told me he was afraid his father would send him to jail when he came that night to run away? Then again, maybe it was better that he hadn’t. If I’d gone with him, where would we be? He said once he joined the military he was gone a lot, so Alyssa and I would have been left alone in a strange place.
Still, I hurt for the boy and young man he’d been. I’d only meant to offer comfort, but once I kissed him, my body demanded more. And now here I was, naked under the oak tree in a more precarious situation than I’d been in before.
I couldn’t get involved with him. Not again. It would just complicate everything. If it was just me, I might take the risk, but I had Alyssa to think about. I could survive if Wyatt ran off again, but would Alyssa if she knew and loved him? She often spoke about not having a father, what would it do to her to know her father couldn’t handle it and ran off?
Perhaps it was unfair to think Wyatt could do that, but he’d done it once before and I wouldn’t put Alyssa through that. I couldn’t quite bring myself to call what just happened a mistake, but it couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t lead to his thinking we could rekindle what we lost, even as my heart ached to have just that.
I moved off him, reaching for my clothes. “I should get home.”
He watched me as I pulled my shirt on and then buttoned it up. Finally, he joined me, slipping on his jeans and tugging on his t-shirt.
“Thank you for the ride home.” I started walking to the house, worried he’d follow me there. When I reached the corner, I turned and saw him getting into his truck. A part of me was hurt that he hadn’t said anything. That he hadn’t followed me. But of course, this was better. What I needed to feel was relieved that he was letting this go.
I hid in the shadows as he drove off, and then went up the porch steps, checking to make sure my clothing didn’t look like I’d taken it off to fuck Wyatt by the river, and then walked inside.
“Hi, Mama,” Alyssa said, sitting on the floor by the coffee table. She had paper and colored pencils out for drawing what she always drew; a horse. She looked up at me and I saw the green eyes that Wyatt had given her.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?”
“Good. Me and Grandma planted a bunch of vegetables in the garden today.” Alyssa held up her paper. “Look what I made.”
“It’s lovely.” I went over and kissed her on the head. “Where’s your grandma?”
“She’s making dinner. I already set the table.” She pulled out another piece of paper and started on a new drawing.
“Is Grandpa home yet?
“Yep. He’s changing.”
The door from the kitchen swung open. “Oh, there you are, Sinclair.” My mother looked at her watch. “You’re late. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Is there something I can do to help with supper?”
My mother brushed her hands down her apron. “No. As soon as your dad is down, supper will be ready.”
Within five minutes, we were seated around the table having chicken, potatoes and green beans.
“What made you late?” my mother asked, handing my father the bowl of roasted potatoes.
“I had a drink with Trina.”
“Did you see Ryder? How's he doing?” my father asked. The family really only saw Ryder on Sundays for our regular family dinner.
“He’s the same.” I debated on whether I should tell them about Wyatt. I decided it would be weird if they found out later that I’d been there when Wyatt showed up at Salvation Station and didn’t say anything. “Wyatt Jones came in.”
My mother stopped mid-fork full of green beans. “Really? Oh, Peggy must be so happy to have him home.”
I had no idea.
“Did he come to take over the farm?” my father asked.
“Yes, but his is one that Stark and Associates has targeted to buy.”
My mother’s face turned
