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We round the far corner, and the stained glass window is above our heads. A band of sunlight illuminates a section of the glass while the rest stays in the shadows. His eyes flash brighter than the glass as he pushes me against the stone wall.
I gasp. “You’re too rough.”
His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go. He pulls back a little, and his breath touches my lips as they part wider.
“What you thought you saw the other night,” his voice is low, “You can’t talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” I ask.
He eases back a little more, and the pressure is off me though his eyes stay locked on mine. Wyatt smirks then nods. “That’s the correct answer. I don’t want you talking about me.”
What a fucking ego. Does he think I sit around with my girlfriends, painting my nails and gossiping in my pajamas about boys? I shake his grip off me. “I don’t give a shit.”
His eyes narrow as his nostrils flare. This time he doesn’t use his hands as he pins me against the bricks using his hard body. I squirm, and instantly that turns into a huge mistake.
“You better care,” he snarls, “You’re not to gossip about me.”
I mock him. “Is your ego bigger than your dick, Wyatt?”
His face falls. He didn’t expect me to talk back. “What I do there, I don’t want mentioned here,” he says, “Are we clear?”
“It was clear before.” I sniff like a wannabe snob with no logos to back it up. “I don’t give a shit about you.”
Wyatt smirks, placing his arms on the wall and boxing me in. He already knows that’s a lie as my body links to his like two puzzle pieces locking into place.
“You like using that mouth, blue eyes?” he whispers.
“It’s Astrid.” I smile as he leans against me. “So, are you playing with me now? Lord of the manor having his way with the chambermaid? I’m not that easy.”
He scoffs. “Easy is not the word that describes a heartbreaker like you.”
Wyatt’s lips touch mine tentatively, but when I sigh, he moves in with force. His mouth presses against mine, and I match his hotness with every stroke. I wrap my arms around his body and pull on his hard chest until it squishes mine. I break away for a second, taking in a deep breath as his mouth trails down my neck.
I don’t do this. Not with guys I just met, but Wyatt isn’t like the rest of the Stonehaven boys. There’s a connection happening between us that makes my skin tingle as his mouth moves up and captures mine again. His tongue slips into my mouth, and our tongues twine as I grip his thick hair between my fingers. Control is slipping away, and though I’m no virgin, I’ll never be a slut. Gradually, I push him off, and releasing me, Wyatt takes a step back.
We look at each other, gauging the situation. He wipes the back of his mouth with his hand as my chest rises up and down. I stare at him, wondering if he’ll be my summer fling. My pussy twitches, telling me a firm yes.
“I didn’t expect to find any men at Stonehaven.” I eye him as directly as he’s eyeing me.
Wyatt cracks a smile. “So, you won’t tell.”
I press my lips together hard, wondering if he thinks flirting with me will shut me up. Now, who’s the slut?
“I already said I don’t give a shit about your business.” My tone is harsh, but I’m still catching my breath. A newbie could tell I’m bluffing badly.
“Thanks, Astrid.” He moves to leave.
“Wait,” I call out like a lovesick groupie. Fuck. “When are you going back?”
He knows what I’m saying. Walking away backward, he shrugs his muscular shoulders. “They’ll let me know.” He lifts a finger to his lips, and I smile before he turns and hurries away.
“Astrid.” Gary is standing at the corner of the building, giving me an evil eye. “Work is waiting for you when you’re ready to give a shit.”
“Hey, language,” I reply.
“We’re not in the building.” He glowers then walks off.
Little fucker.
“Hey, Wyatt, checking out the help?”
Off in the distance, two of the boys that were sitting at the table are hanging out. I’m pretty certain they weren’t watching when I see the third one with the long hair come out of the building opposite and stare at me like I just crawled up out of the earth. I can’t hear what Wyatt says to them, but whatever it is, it makes them laugh. The one called Bryce looks over at me and gives me a look with his nose in the air as if I stink and he can smell it on the breeze.
Double fuck them too. They’re probably repeating the same old shit the other students have said all summer about me. They use the waitstaff for practice so they can make the freshmen cry in the new year.
The boys disappear around the building, no doubt heading for their class. I hurry off toward the kitchen. If Gary speaks to me again, he might send me home. He likes to make examples of us like we need harsh discipline.
Whatever. I rub my arms as if they’re cold. Boys talk shit when they’re too afraid to get it up. I shrug my shoulders as I fling open the back door. I ignore Gary, who’s chewing out another worker for losing the garbage can lid in the dumpster.
Insults don’t hurt me anymore. I don’t give a fuck when Wyatt fights again. Or that he has my tat on his back.
