His other hand found the button of my jeans.
I exhaled hard. "Yes."
He popped it open. His hand left my breast so his fingers could slip past the waistband, under my…oh god, under my underwear, and I grabbed his shoulder and held on.
"Okay?" he said against my neck.
"Yes," I said. "God, yes."
His fingers moved and my head went back against the wall and I stopped caring entirely that we were outside, that anyone could come around that corner, that this was my boss and I wastwenty-one and this had started as a kiss. Two big, skilled fingers were on my clit, moving.
“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he groaned. It was the first time I’d ever heard him curse. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. “You really want this. You want me inside you, Haven?”
“Please,” I begged. I’d never had a man inside me, but I’d played with toys…I would do this. I would take it, anything for him. Anything just to have this man I’d been in love with for half a decade, ever since I’d known what love was.
His fingers kept moving and I was barely breathing.
"Wyatt—"
"I've got you." Low, rough, right against my ear. "I've got you."
I was shaking. My hands were twisted in his flannel and I couldn't get enough air and he was—god, he was good at this, patient and deliberate, like he had all night, like he wasn't standing in a parking lot behind a bar doing something he'd told himself a hundred times he wasn't going to do.
"Please," I said. "I want?—"
"I know what you want."
His fingers shifted and I gasped. He pressed his mouth to my temple, my cheek, and then he pushed two fingers inside me and I made a sound I'd never made before in my life.
"Just like that," he said, low and rough against my ear. "That's it."
My knees buckled. He caught me with his other arm, pinned me against the wall, and I grabbed his shoulder and held on while he worked me open slow and I tried to remember how to breathe.
"You're so tight," he groaned. "God, Haven?—"
"Don't stop." I turned my face and caught his mouth and he kissed me back hard, his fingers still moving, curling, and I whimpered into it. "Please don't stop."
"Not gonna stop." His thumb found my clit, still thrusting his fingers in and out of me. "Let go for me, Haven. Come for me."
I turned my face and caught his mouth and kissed him hard and he kissed me back like he meant it, like he'd been wanting to for longer than tonight, his fingers moving in a rhythm that was taking me apart from the inside out. Then?—
“Wyatt,” I gasped, rocking against his hand. “I’m coming?—”
“Good girl,” he soothed. “Come on…that’s it.”
I came apart against his hand with my face pressed into his neck, shaking, trying to stay quiet.
He held me through it. His fingers slowed.
"Wyatt," I breathed.
"Yeah."
We stayed like that for a second. His hand still warm against me. My forehead on his shoulder. Both of us breathing hard.
Then I lifted my head and looked at him.
"Take me home," I said. "Yourhome. Tonight."
