It made me feel better that he wasn’t completely in his element either. I sipped the wine and had to agree that it was good.
Over dinner we settled into a comfortable conversation.
“I bet you’ve seen so much of the world,” I said as I dug into the scallops I ordered.
“I’ve traveled, but much of it isn’t on any tourist map. There’s a lot in the world that isn’t that interesting. Most places I went to were downright dangerous.”
I wanted to ask him about the scars on his chest, but worried it would bring up unpleasant memories for him.
“So, no Louvre or Eiffel Tower?” I asked.
“Not Paris. I’ve been to London. And Amsterdam.”
“Is it true they have pot in everything?” I asked, intrigued.
“You can buy it pretty easily.”
I leaned forward. “Did you?”
He laughed. “No. Booze is my one vice. Everything else I avoid.”
I remembered him saying that his father was an alcoholic. I noticed that Wyatt drank, but he seemed to control it. A couple of drinks was his limit. I wondered if that was to avoid being like his father.
“Sometimes I think it would be nice to travel. At the same time, I really like Salvation. It’s home. Is that dumb?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t appreciate just how much Salvation was a part of me until I returned home. Stark and your boss notwithstanding, it’s filled with good, hard-working people. You don’t find that everywhere.”
I smiled, glad he didn’t see Salvation as being small and insignificant after his travels.
“I am sorry about Mo. He’s just… Well…”
“I can’t blame him. He has good taste in women.” Wyatt poured me more wine. I’d only had one glass, but already I could feel it going to my head. Or maybe it was the man that was intoxicating.
“Did the military teach you to be romantic too? I don’t remember this part of you.”
He gave me a sheepish grin. “I was eighteen and horny. That was romance to me then.”
I snickered. “True. I just remember wanting you to be my first.”
His cheeks flushed. “I hope it was worth it.”
I liked that I could embarrass him. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know you’re God’s gift to women.”
“I don’t care about women, Sinclair. Just you.”
I smiled, but I felt a little uneasy. Comments like that made me think he saw this marriage as more than the arrangement than it was.
After dinner, we returned to the suite where Wyatt poured more champagne from a new bottle and led me to the little balcony. The lights of the suite were off, so we had only the moon to light the night. It reminded me of all the times by the oak tree sitting in the moonlight, talking, having passionate sex and basking in our love.
“You probably think I never thought about you, considering the way I left,” he said, turning his head up toward the moon. “But no matter where I was…the jungle or the desert, wading through a river or through mud, I’d look up at the moon and think about you. All those nights we’d sit in the moonlight under the oak tree. I was a world away, but we were looking up at the same moon.”
His words reached into my heart and grabbed hold. I was losing the battle to keep from falling for him again, as proved by how I leaned into him, and pressed my lips to his.
His kiss was soft and sweet, his hand lightly stroking my back. “I used to dream of this too. Of holding you again.” He lifted his head and looked down at me. “I promised I’d keep my hands to myself, but I’d do anything to touch you, Sinclair.”
I nodded, and kissed him again. He let out a groan and then scooped me up into his arms. He kissed me hard, and then carried me into the suite. Still holding me, he climbed on the bed. He was on his knees as he set me down on my knees facing him.
“This time it will be slow,” he said as he unzipped my dress.
“What if I want fast?”
He grinned. “Next time.” He pushed my dress from my shoulders, cascading kisses over my skin and making me shudder.
I undid the buttons of his shirt, leaning in to kiss his chest as I exposed it.
“Yes, touch me, Sinclair,” he said, holding my head to him.
I pushed his shirt off and ran my hands over him. “How do you want me to touch you? I want to make you feel good.”
He cradled my face. “You do, baby. Every time.” He leaned over and kissed me, slow, thorough, and my heart expanded in my chest at the emotion I felt from him.
We finished undressing, facing each other naked, still on our knees. His dick was long and hard, pointing straight up. I had an urge to kiss the soft, velvety tip. I’d never done that before, but after what he did to me on his kitchen table, I wanted to do the same for him.
I looked up at him. “Do you like blow jobs?”
He let out a frustrated growl. “Every man likes blow jobs.”
I began to lean down, but he stopped me. “Next time.”
“You said fast next time,” I argued.
“The time after that then.” He sat back on his heels, pulling me onto him to straddle his thighs. “This time I want to be inside you, Sinclair.”
It was hard to argue with that. I ran my hands over his shoulders and then leaned in to kiss him. We kissed for a long time, my pussy rubbing over his dick until I couldn’t take it anymore. I shifted, adjusting so his dick settled at my opening.
He pulled back from the kiss and looked at me. Our gazes locked and I slowly took him inside me. His eyes held passion and desire, but also emotion that scared me.
When he was completely seeped inside me, he once again cradled my face. He looked
