“I guess,” I say. And then, because it really is a long drive, I say, “Yeah. Actually, that would be great.”
He tells me to grab a nightgown out of the bureau, which I do, then I follow him up the stairs. He’s a perfect gentleman. Pulling out the Murphy bed. Making sure I’m comfortable. Telling me he’ll be right on the other side of the room if I need anything.
And then he goes off to the couch, and I slide under the covers, and I lie there, absolutely unable to sleep. Because, seriously, what is going on here?
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Wyatt?” I whisper to the dark. “Are you awake?”
“Do you need something?”
“Answers,” I say.
“Answers?”
“You told me I had to do what you said in front of the camera and in your bed.”
“And you did. You were great today.”
I frown. “Yeah, but I thought—” I cut myself off. What am I supposed to say? That I thought he was going to touch me? That I thought he was going to take me to bed? I did think all that, but I’m not sure I want to admit it out loud.
Except I want to know.
“I guess I thought you were going to touch me . . . more.”
“Did you?” His words are casual, but I think I hear a thread of heat under them.
I consider turning on a light since I can’t see his face, and on the one hand, that bothers me. But on the other, it gives me courage.
“Yeah,” I admit. “And don’t tell me I had the wrong impression. That’s what you said from the beginning. So why didn’t you?”
“A few reasons,” he says. “For one, it was a dick move for me to insist on that in the first place. I was pissed at you, and it was stupid and manipulative. For that matter, it was probably a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“I won’t sue,” I say dryly, earning a laugh.
“Well, the biggest reason is that you didn’t want me to.”
I sit up in bed. “Wait. What? I never said that.”
“You did,” he insists. “In the car. You talked about what the women on my walls would want, and how you wanted to be like them. Well, tell me, Kelsey, would those women wait? I mean, if there was a man they wanted, would they hesitate at all?”
I’m silent.
“But I guess that’s the real question,” he continues. “Is there a man you want?”
My heart jumps a little in my chest. And when I answer, it’s a whisper. “Actually, there might be.”
“In that case,” he says, “I think you should go after him.”
25
I draw a deep breath, trying to quell my rising panic.
Go after him? I’ve never gone after a man in my life. Going after men was definitely not on my father’s approved activity list. And while I may have deviated far away from the ridiculous parameters he set for me, that doesn’t change the very basic fact that I have absolutely no experience whatsoever.
At the same time, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that Wyatt’s a sure thing, and that knowledge does a lot for my courage. Couple that with the fact that my body still aches for a touch that never came, and it’s easy to find the moxie to get out of the bed and go to where he’s stretched out on the couch.
It’s dark, but I can make out the outline of his body under a thin blanket. His eyes are open, reflecting the tiny bit of light in the room. And I can see that he’s amused.
Immediately, I resolve to change that amusement to something quite different.
“Hi,” I say, then slowly pull back his blanket.
“Hi, yourself,” he says.
I sit on the edge of the couch as I press a finger over his mouth, then trail it down over his chin, his neck, his collar bone. He’s not wearing a shirt, and I trace my finger lower and lower, relishing the way the muscles in his abdomen tighten as I graze his skin. And then, just about the time I hit the band of his briefs, I pull my hand away.
He makes a small noise of protest, which fuels my courage, and this time, I get on the couch and straddle him, my knees just above his hips so that I’m rubbing his cock every time I move.
And moving is exactly what I intend to do.
I move my hips back and forth, back and forth. I’m not wearing underwear, and my bare sex is rubbing the cotton of his briefs, and the friction is doing quite a number on me.
But I’m getting myself off, and that’s not what I want. So I shift again, this time leaning forward so that I can kiss my way up his body. And when I reach his ear, I whisper, “You said the women I admire go after what they want? That they demand it?”
“Mmm.”
“Well, I know what I want, Wyatt.”
He’d closed his eyes, but he opens them now and looks at me with interest. “Do you?”
“I want you to be in charge.” He says nothing, so I rush on. “That’s what excited me originally. When you said that I had to do what you said in front of the camera and in your bed. What you said. So that’s what I want. That’s what I’m going after. A man who takes charge.”
I lick the edge of his ear, then whisper. “So tell me. Am I cheating?”
He chuckles. “No. I don’t think it’s a cheat at all. Or if it is, it’s a cheat I like.” He props himself up on his elbows. “Stand up,” he orders. “And take off your nightgown.”
I start to protest, then realize this is my doing, so I obey. I toss the gown over the arm of the couch and stand naked in front of him.
He sits up, then crooks a finger so that I approach him. Then he slips his fingers between my legs and teases my clit until I’m certain that my legs are going to collapse.
“Tell me what you want,” he says.
“You. I just want you.”
His dimple flashes as he smiles. “Good answer.”
He stands and strips off his briefs, then sits back down. “I’m going to fuck you, Kelsey. Because I’ve been thinking about it since you walked into my studio. I want to bury myself inside you. I want to feel you come, your muscles tightening around me. And then I want to hold you close as you fall asleep in my arms.”
I make a kind of whimpering noise, and he chuckles. “Do you want me to wear a condom? I’m clean—I’ve been tested—but it’s up to you.”
I shake my head. “No. I want to feel you. And I’m on the pill. For cramps,” I add.
“Then straddle me.”
I do, and though it’s still almost pitch dark, I can see the heat on his face as I look in his eyes. His cock is as hard as steel, and I rub against it, moaning a bit because that’s ultimately unsatisfying—I want him inside me.
He’s teasing us both, I know, and I can tell when he can’t take it anymore either. He reaches between us, puts the tip of his cock at my core, and tells me to lower myself.
I comply, moving slowly and gently. But then he takes my hips and pushes me down even as he thrusts his hips up, so that he’s deep inside me and I cry out in surprise at the pleasure of being so thoroughly filled.
He cups my breasts, pulling me close so that he can tease my nipple with his tongue as he uses one hand on my hips to lift me up and down on his cock.