“Fuck.”
His forehead presses harder into me. Now his whole leg isbouncing, jostling my lower half while his arm keeps the rest of me stable. I’m not sure how that’s supposed to help anything, but I try not to move, biting back my laughter because I’m sure it’s not funny for him.
“I can go back to—”
“No,” he growls, the sound coming from so deep within his chest I can feel the vibration against my back. His arm tightens around me. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve survived worse, I just really don’t want to embarrass myself on Ruby’s couch.”
Twisting my neck, a giggle slips past my lips. “Worse?”
“We’re not going to talk about it,” he grumbles, lifting his head.
Our eyes meet, and the smile slowly fades as the heat in his eyes brand me from the outside in. Warmth spreads through me, down to my core. From this close, I can feel his breath on my lips, and my eyes drop for just a moment to look at his full ones. The memory of his kiss is seared into my brain, the way he felt when he took control.
“Why did you give me your hat tonight?” I wonder out loud before I can think better of it. “Was that you…claiming me?”
His hand squeezes around mine. “You’re not a possession to be claimed, B. Or a doll to be played with. You’re a human. With choices and free will.”
The answer has my heart pounding so strongly that I’m sure he can feel it through my back and into his chest. There’s no way he can’t tell how it’s jackhammering around.
When I don’t respond, he concedes, “I wanted everyone in that room to know that no matter what happened during bidding, my heart was already sold.”
“Wyatt…”
“It’s okay. I know,” he nods. Understanding and certaintyswim in his green eyes. Eyes that have lost some of their heat but gained an emotion I’m not ready to name. “I know you can’t. We’re not there. But that doesn’t change the way I feel.”
Words are stuck in my throat with no room to come out. Not without giving more than I’m able to. It doesn’t change the way he feels, but the way I feel has been changing. Or maybe it’s more like the cloud of denial I’ve gathered over myself is slowly starting to part and I’m seeing the sunshine beyond. That maybe I can have both.
Maybe Gran was right. Maybe I do deserve a lifetime of happiness. And maybe it doesn’t need to wait.
Wyatt places a kiss onto the tip of my nose. “Go to sleep, beautiful. We don’t need to talk about it.”
Swallowing the words that were beginning to form, I angle my head and kiss his chin. Maybe he’s right. But one day, maybe we do need to talk about it.
As I’m finally allowing myself to succumb to sleep, though, I swear I hear, “I’d wait forever for you.”
Chapter 39
Bryn
“WhatinGod’snameis going on?”
The screech rudely interrupts the wonderful dream I was having of a shirtless Wyatt splayed out on his stomach, me straddling his ass, my hands moving all over his thick, strong muscles, working the knots free to give him release. A different kind of release than he’d had prior to the massage from using all those muscles to hold himself above me while he made me come. Multiple times.
“Wake up! How dare you—”
A set of feet race across the floor, then a hushed, angry voice, “Let them sleep, Lillian. It was a late night.”
“I’m sure it was! And what were they doing? Screwing on your couch? How are you not livid, Ruby?”
A hand presses against my abdomen, a thumb caressing my bare skin. Wyatt murmurs for only me to hear, “Don’t move.”
Then I feel it. Pressed against my ass is his cock. Rock hard and standing at full attention. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I don’t know how, but I manage to keep my “Ohs!” to myself, biting my tongue while I crack open an eye.
My mother is standing over us, glaring with a storm raging in brown eyes. I groan, forcing myself not to stretch so I don’t make things worse for Wyatt, and close my eyes again. This is not how I expected to be woken up.
“If you’re not careful, the line in your forehead will becomea wrinkle to match the ones around your mouth,” I tell her, then immediately jerk my head back in surprise at my words.
The abrupt movement has me colliding with Wyatt’s face. He yells in sudden pain, one hand flying up from under the covers to grab his face, the other, still under my head, pulling out from beneath me. It sends me, tangled in the blanket, toppling to the ground, though he tries to grab me at the last second, only to miss as I land in a heap on the floor.
