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Fuck, this is awkward.
I wanted Wyatt to lean in, grab the back of my neck, and kiss me again. Part of me knew he wanted it too. His eyes darted to my lips, and I licked them. Our steady breaths were the only sounds filling the interior of his car.
But he didn’t inch forward.
“Good night, Wyatt.”
I unfolded myself from his car and took the steps to my upstairs apartment two at a time. Clutching his house key in my hand, I pushed through my own front door and leaned against it.
I was flustered. Annoyed.
Why wouldn’t he just kiss me again?
You know what? No. I took care of his schedule, his players, his daughter. He’d invited me to a family dinner, and his family members were so amazing my heart ached. The way we were acting around each other was ridiculous. We were adults. I could tell he wanted to kiss me but wouldn’t do anything about it. He was a grouch, and he was happy to live in his grouchy little trash can.
Nope.
Not today, Oscar.
Gathering my courage, I opened my front door and bounded back down the stairs. With purposeful strides, I walked across the driveway and up to his front door.
One knock. Then two.
I leaned in but heard nothing through the heavy wood door but silence.
Do I use the key?
That felt like a weird invasion of privacy, so instead I knocked again and tried the handle. Unlocked, I opened the door only slightly to peek my head in.
“Wyatt? It’s Lark. Can I come in?”
I listened again. Silence.
No. Not silence, but something else, coming from the back.
“Wyatt?” I tried again.
A low moan floated down the hallway.
Was that? Oh god—
Excited and feeling brave, I slinked through the door and closed it quietly behind me. I dropped the key Wyatt had given me on the small table at the entrance and slowly crept toward the sound.
I heard it again. An unmistakable soft, low groan of pleasure.
My toes tingled. My nipples hardened beneath the flimsy fabric of my dress. My heart raced as my feet carried me toward the sound.
At the end of the dark hallway, a bedroom door was open. The bedside lamp was glowing, but otherwise the room was cloaked in darkness. Across the bedroom, a light shone through the open bathroom door.
My feet were bolted to the floor.
In the mirror, Wyatt was naked. Glorious lines of cut muscle as he hunched over, one hand gripping the edge of the sink and the other...
The other was fisted around his cock.
“Fuck.” He groaned again as his hand moved up and down his length. “Lark.”
Holy shit. Holy shit!
