“I’ll be right back,” Wyatt speaks softly against my ear before pushing himself off the couch. I hum as he goes, eyes floating back to where Darcy and Elizabeth dance on our TV screen. Our dinner was phenomenal, and ending the night with a good movie and snacks made date night that much more enjoyable. I’m not sure how much time passes before Wyatt’s back and standing in front of the screen. I crane my neck, shooing him away with my hand. Irritation bubbles in my chest, but it quickly deflates when he shoves my boots in my face. “Put your shoes on.”
My brows raise, but I’m so dumbstruck by the soft, lighthearted look on his face that I do so without question. By the time I’m out the front door, I have to rub my eyes to clear them from the oncoming sleepiness. They pop wide open when I see what waits at the bottom of the porch steps.“We’re riding?” I ask, incredulously. It’s almost midnight, but Wyatt stands between his horse, Beau, and Maggie. Both are saddled and patiently waiting for whatever comes next.
“Unless you’re not up for it,” Wyatt shrugs, amusement flashing across his face.
“Of course I’m up for it.” I glance down, “But I’m not changing out of these pajamas.”
He makes a show of glancing at his black sweatpants, “I figured we wouldn’t." I give Wyatt the widest grin I can muster, bouncing down the wooden steps without any further questions.
By the timewe make it to the familiar green and purple meadow, I’m much more awake than I was when we’d saddled up. I pull on Maggie’s reins and bring us to a complete stop under one of the ash trees. We had a relatively smooth ride, and I’m delighted that she doesn’t seem to mind Wyatt’s horse.
As we tie Maggie and Wyatt’s stallion to the massive tree trunk, I take in the sky above. This might be my favorite part about living in the middle of nowhere–the sky is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. The dark blue is bright with glittering stars, and tonight’s full moon casts a beautiful white glow across the pond.
Wyatt steals my attention away from stargazing when he backs away, reaching behind his neck to tug off his long-sleeve shirt. “Up for a late-night swim?”
I gape at him, “Are you insane? It has to be freezing.”
I glance past him and towards the small pond. There’s no ducks or geese tonight, but I have no idea how the water isn’t frozen. And–yup. That’s my breath clouding in front of me. I lick my lips, suddenly forgetting all about the cold. My thighs rub together at the sight of his bare, hard chest, and the butterflies in my stomach intensify when he shoots me a lazy smirk.
“Chicken,” His tone is teasing as his eyes roll over me. His pants are the next to go, and I have to put a palm over my mouth to smother my laugh. Ilovethis side of Wyatt. Playful and atease. No fake smiles or expectations. Justhim.It makes me feel like a teenager again. I narrow my eyes, but I reach down to pull off one boot. And then the other. My socks and pants are quick to follow, until I’m left in nothing but a pair of panties and my oversized, white sweater. I straighten and offer, “Last one in has to do the dishes?”
He cocks his head, but before I give him the chance to answer, I dart around him and book it for the water. His laughter booms after me. I can’t help the breathless feeling that rises in my chest. A spark of excitement and anticipation brings a smile to my face when I hear him curse from close behind me. I rip my top off, refusing to slow down until I reach the edge of the water.
Just as my toes graze the edge of the pond where the grass and moss become damp–rough, warm hands wrap around my middle. I can’t contain the squeal of surprise that escapes when Wyatt sweeps me off my feet.
We land in the pond with a sharp splash. The water is cold enough to send a shock through me, but not nearly as horrible as I thought it’d be. Wyatt’s arms leave my body as we both pop up from the water, gasping. We break into a fit of laughter when our eyes meet over the surface of the water. My feet find purchase–just barely touching the bottom of the pond. With Wyatt’s height, it leaves most of his chest exposed. “Does that make us both losers?” Wyatt asks, swimming close enough that our legs brush. The back of his hand comes up to run over the strap of my bra, creating goosebumps along my collarbone. I become painfully aware of what little fabric lays between us. “No,” I shake my head slowly, “Just you. You cheated.”
The corner of his mouth tilts, and he leans in, dropping his head. “Do I at least get a second date?” His question is hot against my cold skin, and I have to refrain from shivering when he plants a slow, gentle kiss to the side of my neck.
“I suppose you could convince me,” I reply, silkily. Wyatt stills, eyes glazing over with lust as my insinuation echoes in the air around us. My hands come up to wrap around his neck, and he doesn’t hesitate to hike me up, hooking my legs around his waist so that I’m just an inch above him. The air is cold against my wet skin, but I couldn't care any less with the hard warmth of Wyatt pressing against me.
Wyatt fists my hair with one hand, while the other arm stays wrapped under my thighs. He pulls my head away just far enough to scan what little of me is lifted from the water. “Perfect,” he whispers. The way he mutters it makes my heart clench. I don’t think anyone else can make me feel the way Wyatt does. Emotionally, physically… he justconsumesme. And I never want that feeling to end. I want every breath and touch he’ll give me, for as long as possible.I didn’t know if our relationship would survive when it was strung together with lies. All I know is that I wantthis.
“I-I need you,” I plead.
I love you, is what I should say. But I don’t want to ruin this moment with hard truths and promises neither of us can make.
“You have me,” Wyatt assures me before connecting his lips with mine. My eyes flutter shut, and I melt into him. It’s tender and sweet–the kind of kiss that feels like the end of so many questions and the start of a million more.
Wyatt kisses me softly. And only when it turns more insistent and demanding, and our hands start to explore every bare piece of skin, does Wyatt lift us both out of the water. I'm not sure how we make it to a solid patch of grass alongside the shoreline, or when we lose the rest of our clothing along the way. Wyatt's movements are gentle when he lays me down on the hard ground. Hesitation only comes for a second–vanishing when he's certain I'm comfortable. My pulse thickens in anticipation as he lines himself up perfectly with my entrance. My hips buckup, causing his hard, thick tip to glide across my folds. We both look down, moaning at the sight of us brushing against each other.
Wyatt’s elbow falls beside my head, fingers reaching to curl around the wild strands laid out beneath me. The other reaches down to wrap around his cock. He curses when his head begins to stretch me, “Is this what you need?”
I shake my head desperately, hand shooting up to wrap around the wrist closest to my head. “More.”
“More what?” Wyatt asks, dipping his head to pull one of my nipples between his teeth. “Use your words, Whitney.”
“Fuck me, Wyatt,” I order between clenched teeth. He doesn’t waste another second–Wyatt flips me over, tugging my hips up and forcing me to arch for him. He thrusts into me, bottoming out before giving me time to adjust.
Wyatt clicks his tongue, obviously not satisfied with this position. He leans forward, pressing his chest into my back and gripping my chin. When he forces me to look into his eyes, my mouth pops open from the feel of this new angle. His movements turn deep and brutal, and I have little control over how hard he fucks me into the ground. It takes everything in me to keep my knees from buckling. AndfuckI don’t care. I think I might die if he stops.
“My pretty little wife,” Wyatt praises me. “Your pussy takes my cock so fucking well.” Each word is punctuated with a forceful thrust. The grip of his hand on my jaw, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the smell of our arousals mingling is enough to send me over the edge. A fire blazes low in my stomach, and I’m crying out Wyatt’s name as we both shatter underneath the stars.
Chapter Thirty-Four
WHITNEY
Iwatch Wyatt and Brinley from across the store. He’s bent down, looking at a toy she squealed about and ran too. We’re out shopping for Christmas gifts, having promised each other we wouldnot, underanycircumstances, buy Brinley a new toy before then. But clearly, he’s already folding. He casts a glance in my direction, as if checking to see if I’m watching. I raise my eyebrows, waiting to see how he handles this one.
