“Didn’t I tell you?” asks Wyatt.
“No.”
“I brought those ducklings to my grandparent’s house,” he casually explains as I stare in wonder and shock. “They fixed this fountain they have in the backyard that’s been dry for years so they could raise them. Been a month now and they’re growing fast. Takes them up to sixty days to leave their momma, usually, so it’s still up in the air what they’re going to do with them when that time is up.”
May waits to take off her slippers, since she considers Wyatt special company. “Michael pretends as though they’re not important but I see the light in his eyes every time he takes me on a ride with their newest story.”
Wyatt glances to me, sees I’m astounded, and takes my hand. This is a first, outside of when we’re seated during a movie. As soon as they’ve ended, he’s attentive to his Grams and more polite.
She notices the public show of affection, blue eyes crinkling. “Will you be here next Friday, too, Wyatt?”
He turns to go, tugging me with him. “Yep.”
Simple.
To the point.
No hesitation.
It doesn’t escape her.
Or me.
“Night Grams,” he says. Pausing, he runs over to kiss her cheek. “Sweet dreams.”
As he heads back to me, her eyes go distant and she takes off her slippers. “Goodnight, Jerald. You make me so happy.”
Wyatt locks eyes with me, and turns around, but she’s not looking this way. I silently wave him over and he tiptoes to me, shutting the door and not waking her from the past.
CHAPTER 30
DIANA
“N ice office.” Wyatt picks up a photo of me from my desk, showing it to me. “Who’s this?”
“Jon, a friend from college.”
“You guys are having fun,” Wyatt chuckles.
“It was a drag queen contest, and I dressed up with him. Some of the people thought I might have been a man under all of that.”
He sets it down, walking to where I’m standing in the middle of the small room. Pulling me against his hard frame, Wyatt’s gaze is scorching hot, his grip on my lower back with authority and possessiveness. “You feel like a woman to me.”
And you feel all man.
I soften, sigh, and enjoy his embrace pulling me harder into him. To be looked at like this, so intensely, is a feeling I’ve longed for, though I never knew it was missing.
I’m keenly aware of Wyatt’s left hand sliding down the silky backside of my dress, over my ass and holding there as he leans for a kiss. I wait for it, tilt my head, our eyes still locked, eyelashes heavy, lips not yet touching.
His hand travels lower, slipping along the crease under my buttock, over the fabric, and making my pussy hum for him.
Wyatt brushes his smooth lips over mine, pulling away to lock eyes with me as his fingers slip further down. He gathers up the dress bit by bit until he’s got the hem in his fist, torturing me by taking his time. I try to kiss him, but he stays out of reach, eyes on fire.
His hand dips under, hem blousing over his arm as his fingers seek out and find my panties. I bought new lingerie for him, even though he hasn’t seen any of it yet.
Wyatt is making us wait.
No sex. Just kissing.
He’s never touched me.
Not down here.
Is this the moment?
His fingers slide under my panties, just tracing the edges. I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped the dress and went for the door.
But now he’s tracing over the front, where lacy trim draws a groan from his lips. I can see blue flakes in his irises, but it’s the gold that burns bright as Wyatt dips under and touches soft hair over my feminine mound for the first time.
I close my eyes.
Hoping for a kiss.
It doesn’t come.
But his fingers…
Those calloused fingers…
Drop lower.
Sliding over my cleft.
Into my pussy’s lips.
With maddening patience.
I moan. And receive a kiss.
The pressure soft.
His finger hovers over my clit.
Then touches me.
“You’re wet,” he rasps.
I lock eyes with him. “Duh.”
He chuckles, and the smile fades, replaced with hunger as his middle finger begins to stroke me, just a tiny bit of pressure, the calloused pad rough enough to set me on fire with need.
My stomach tightens.
Breath short.
He pauses, and slides a little bit lower to my wet opening.
“Please,” I whisper, and he stiffens.
Everywhere.
“Please what, Beautiful?”
“Stop torturing me.”
“No can do.” His tongue lightly licks mine, dipping into my mouth for a second before retreating so he can watch my eyelashes drop.
My pussy is relaxed, open, wanting his cock. I know he’s huge. I’ve felt the size through his pants many bittersweet nights.
The middle finger is a tease, but I’ll take what I can get. He knows what he’s doing, and as it enters me an inch at a time, I become alive to Wyatt’s touch. He pushes in as deep as he can, then slowly pulls out, my pussy’s walls clenching around him, begging his finger not to leave me like this. He inches it back inside to its furthest depth, and our lips meet, both of us softly panting. I offer my tongue, and Wyatt sucks on it while his finger slides out and in, keeping a painfully slow pace until I whimper, “Please!”
Our mouths mold, moving on each other, seeking, as heat builds in my core, his index finger now joining in on the fun. Two of Wyatt’s fingers inside me.
“So tight,” he murmurs, licking my tongue while my eyes are closed. I am overwhelmed, near my breaking point, inner thighs pulsing and hot.
Wyatt slides out, his fingers using the dripping arousal to slip and slide over my smoldering clit, near-ecstasy catching in my throat. He claims my mouth in a kiss that matches the light flicks, my tongue helpless as his strokes my heat to a place I’ve never felt.
I feel a pulse quicken.
Deep inside me.
A flickering.
Lighter fluid to a fire.
My breath stops.
Body tensing.
Wyatt groans, “That’s right. Try and hold
