Wyatt (7 Brides for 7 Soldiers #4) Page 12

  Wyatt spread her with his thumbs as his tongue pressed against her clit. Paige squirmed as he circled and nibbled and sucked. She could feel the crisis building, but it wasn’t happening.

  It wasn’t happening because Wyatt seemed to know it was coming and he did everything he could to prolong it.

  “Please,” she finally begged. “Please.”

  “You want to come?”

  “Yes!”

  He slipped a finger inside her. And then he performed a full frontal assault on her body with his tongue and teeth and fingers, strumming her into a quivering, aching mess.

  Paige didn’t slip over the edge. She hurtled over it, screaming the whole way down, gasping for air as her body imploded. She landed in a mass of nerves, her body still zinging, her limbs going limp with pleasure, her heart racing as if she’d run up the mountain.

  She thought he would strip now, slide his way into her, pump them both to another pinnacle. He didn’t. Instead, he began the slow buildup again, licking his way to her center, spreading her open with his thumbs, lightly touching her still-sensitive clit.

  “No,” she moaned. “I can’t.”

  “I think you can.”

  He took his time, but he proved that she could. This time when it was finished, when her limbs refused to work and she lay against the pillows and thought about a nap, he stood and reached for his T-shirt hem with one hand, dragged it up and off until that magnificent chest was on display.

  Paige perked up. She was still suffering the aftershocks of his sensual assault, thinking she couldn’t possibly have another orgasm for hours, when the sight of his chest set off a new current of desire within.

  When he shoved his jeans and underwear down his hips, her breath caught. His penis sprang free, hard and beautiful, and Paige thought she’d never wanted a man so much in her life. Especially since she was already perfectly satisfied.

  But oh, he was lovely. She wanted to lick him. She sat up, reaching for him, but he backed just out of reach.

  “Not this time. I want to be inside you.”

  He produced a condom from his wallet, and she thanked God for men who came prepared. Then he rolled it on and sank down on top of her again. He didn’t let his body touch hers yet, however. He held himself up on those strong arms of his, hovering over her, and she shivered at the heat in those eyes.

  She ran her hands over the muscles of his arms, over his pectorals, marveling at how gorgeous he was. How amazing his body. These muscles weren’t carved in a gym, though he probably kept them honed in one.

  No, these muscles had been carved during intense military training. She couldn’t imagine everything he’d seen. Her heart ached as she thought of what he’d told her earlier about his friend.

  “Wyatt,” she breathed, because her heart was full and she couldn’t say anything else.

  “I need you to know something, Paige. I need you to know that I haven’t spent the past few months in Eagle’s Ridge picking up women and screwing around. You’re my first since I left the Navy. I’m not sure why that is, but it’s the truth.”

  She threaded her fingers into his hair. “Thank you for telling me.”

  But part of her wished she didn’t know, because it made this more special than it should be. For her, anyway. She didn’t want to get attached to him, but she was. She already knew it.

  He lowered himself slowly, by degrees, and then he took her mouth. She opened to him eagerly, her mouth and her body, lifting her hips and wrapping her legs around his thighs.

  He pressed against her entrance, solid and large, and then he kept on pressing until he filled her. Until they were joined together in the most intimate way possible.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I will be.” It was the truth. He was big and it had been a long time, but her body was quickly adjusting.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  He began to move, withdrawing slowly and then pushing back in. Sensation streaked through her at every movement of his body inside hers. She didn’t remember sex being so thrilling, but with him it was. At a certain point, with anyone else, it had seemed like something you had to do in order to get the reward.

  With Wyatt, sex was the reward. An orgasm was merely icing on the cake.

  It didn’t take long before he was moving hard and fast, hips rising and falling into her again and again. Paige couldn’t stop the low moans coming from her throat as he slammed into her, drawing all the nerves in her body into that one tight point as the base of his cock rubbed against her clit over and over.

  And then she exploded as she had before, but somehow it was more intense this time. Wyatt didn’t stop stroking into her, didn’t stop drawing every ounce of pleasure from her that he could get. When she was spent and trembling, he thrust one last time, groaning as he came deep inside her.

  He propped himself on his elbows, his body still joined to hers, and kissed her leisurely. As if he had all the time in the world. Paige arched into him and gave him everything she had.

  “That was amazing,” he whispered against her lips. Then he levered up and went to the bathroom. She assumed he was taking care of the condom.

  She stretched and yawned. The sheets felt so sensual against her skin. The covers were warm, her body sated. Her belly growled, but who needed food at a time like this?

  There was a meow on the other side of the closed door and then a scratch on the wood. Paige sat up.

  Wyatt strode from the bathroom, his naked body on display for her viewing pleasure. He was so at ease in his skin whereas she’d drawn the covers up to hide her breasts. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, but she was shy now that they’d been intimate.

  And she was confused, because what did it mean?

  Does it need to mean anything?

  No, it didn’t. She wasn’t typically a sex for sex’s sake kind of girl, but she often wished she was. Usually she needed to be in a relationship—so this was an unusual situation for her.

  And yet the barn door was open and the horse had escaped. There was no rewinding this. She and Wyatt were lovers, and she intended to go wherever it led her.

  He stopped on his way to the bed and frowned. “I hate to ask, but should I let that damned cat in?”

  She didn’t mind that he called Fluffy a damned cat. Because no matter what he said about her kitty, he didn’t hate Fluffy. He’d had every reason to after the incident with his bed, but she’d seen him petting Fluffy whenever he twined around Wyatt’s legs.

  Of course he also called him a little furry bastard. For some silly reason, she was ridiculously amused by that thought.

  “Maybe we should.”

  Wyatt stalked over to the door and opened it. Mr. Fluffypants streaked inside and jumped on the bed. Wyatt headed over and picked up his pants. Disappointment pricked her.

  “Are you leaving?”

  He glanced at the cat. “I don’t trust him around my package, you know?” He grinned. “But that’s not enough to make me leave a warm bed with you, Paige.”

  “Then where are you going?” she asked as he dragged on his pants.

  “To fix dinner.”

  She lay back against the pillows again and stroked Fluffy’s soft fur while he purred.

  “I could get used to this. Hot sex with a hot man who then fixes me dinner? You’re hired for as long as you want.”

  He frowned and her heart skipped because she knew she’d gone too far.

  “Let’s get something straight, princess,” he said. “I’m your protector because I’ve been hired to be. But nothing else that happens between us has anything to do with money or jobs. If you think that’s the case, then it ends here.”

  Everybody had a price. She’d learned that early in life. She’d also learned that people only stuck by you when you had something to give them. When there was a benefit for them. But maybe Wyatt was different.

  “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I shouldn’t have said that. It was a joke, but a bad one.”
<
br />   He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “This is why I didn’t want it to get personal. It complicates things when I’m also hired to protect you. Judgments get clouded.”

  “Are you saying you want to go back to the way it was before?”

  “I am saying that. But it’s too late, Paige. You’re in my blood like a drug. I can’t quit you yet.”

  Yet. Who knew that one word could hurt so much? Because he would quit her. It was just a matter of time.

  Chapter 19

  Wyatt banged around in the kitchen, mad at himself and mad at her too. He shouldn’t have given in to the demands of his dick even if it’d been a long time since that particular organ had demanded anything.

  He knew better. He was a grown man, and furthermore, he was a damned Navy SEAL. He’d survived BUD/S, for God’s sake. Talk about deprivation and pushing your body to its physical limit. He knew what it meant to deny himself.

  Yet he hadn’t denied himself when it came to Paige. He’d sunk into her like a new recruit sank into a hot meal after the first hard day of training. Meaning he’d lost his ever-loving mind.

  She’d been soft and sexy and he couldn’t say no. He’d wanted her too much.

  Hell, his body still suffered aftershocks. Lightning bolts zipped and crashed, and his balls tightened at the thought of sinking into her again.

  But first, food.

  He found pasta, some sauce in a jar, a package of hamburger meat, and set about making spaghetti. He wasn’t a gourmet cook. Bailey Tucker would be horrified, no doubt, but he could make these things and they tasted good enough to him.

  He’d thought Paige was a food snob when they’d gone to No Man’s Land for lunch that day, but she’d eaten frozen pizza without complaint. And she’d eaten a lot of staple foods over the past few days, plain stuff that nobody could mistake for gourmet.

  But this was the first time he’d really cooked something.

  He put the water on to boil, chopped some onion, started it cooking in the pan before adding the meat, and opened the sauce.

  Paige emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing yoga pants and a tank top that clung to her breasts. Breasts he’d gotten intimately acquainted with not so long ago. A tingle of arousal began at the base of his spine. He stomped it down.

  Her hair was piled on her head in a messy knot. Her smile was uncertain as she came into the kitchen. He wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her. He resisted the urge, however.

  “What are we having?”

  “Spaghetti.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Do you know how to boil pasta?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you can do that.”

  They worked in silence. He wasn’t certain whether it was an awkward silence or a companionable one.

  “You okay?” he finally asked when the silence was too complete.

  She looked up from stirring pasta. “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t sure he believed her. “Paige.”

  “I’m okay, Wyatt. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. But you’re quieter than usual.”

  She shrugged. “I have a lot on my mind. Remember our talk by the river? The videos?” She waved the spoon. “I’m thinking.”

  He tried not to be bothered that she wasn’t thinking about him. Because he was certainly thinking about her. About every kiss and soft moan and touch they’d shared.

  Stop.

  He grabbed a loaf of frozen garlic bread out of the freezer and turned on the oven. Briefly, he considered sticking his head in the freezer to cool his brain—and other parts of him. Paige would probably think he was nuts if he did.

  Wyatt finished up the sauce while she drained the pasta. They fixed bowls, grabbed hot bread fresh from the oven, and put everything on TV trays so they could sit on the couch.

  He queued up American Princess and Paige groaned. “Do we have to?”

  “I’m sorry, Paige, but I need to see. I need to know if there’s something being missed in the hunt for this guy.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  He pressed the Play button and settled back to watch. He could tell that Paige was uncomfortable, but he didn’t know why. She was magnificent on the screen. Oh, she was rotten to the other women, but they were mostly a bunch of entitled brats anyway. They talked about her. Schemed behind her back. He wondered if one of them could be sending the letters. The voice in them was very male, but that didn’t mean a woman couldn’t be behind it.

  But which one? And why? Didn’t make a lot of sense because the threats to Paige focused the attention on her. Not one of those women wanted that. They wanted the attention on them. If anyone were going to manufacture a stalker, they’d make sure the stalker followed them personally. More attention.

  “How’s the spaghetti?” Wyatt asked after a few minutes.

  Paige glanced over at him. “Take a look.”

  He peered into her bowl. There were about two bites left. “Guess it was good.”

  “Delicious. Plus I needed the energy. Have to replace all those calories I lost with you,” she said, winking.

  Fresh need throbbed to life in his groin. He wanted to go all caveman on her, but he was more civilized than that. For now, anyway.

  “I hope you plan to burn a few more tonight. Because I’m not done with you, baby. I can think of a lot more things I’d like to do. You up for that?”

  He could see her pulse beating wildly in her throat. “Yes.”

  Excitement pulsed in his veins, his groin. He’d thought maybe once he had her, it would be enough and he’d go back to that state of disinterest he’d been existing in for the past few months.

  Nope. It was like he’d flipped a switch somewhere and all his latent sexual energy came rushing back. Of all the women to arouse that need in him, it had to be the most unattainable one. The one who wasn’t from Eagle’s Ridge, who wasn’t staying, and who existed so far outside his orbit she might as well be from Mars.

  He’d watched Ryder, Adam, and Zane fall for women in the past few months and he’d laughed at them. He wasn’t falling for Paige, not even close—but even if he’d wanted to, it would have been impossible. She wasn’t staying, and he wasn’t leaving.

  He almost switched off the television and took her back to bed. But something stopped him. Some last shred of professionalism that wouldn’t let him neglect watching every episode of her show.

  Even if it made him hard to watch her strut across the screen, all that blond hair bouncing and hazel eyes flashing as she dominated the room.

  When the episode was over, they put away the food and washed the dishes. Then they settled onto the couch again. Wyatt pulled Paige into the circle of his arm and she sank against his side, her flowery shampoo invading his senses.

  He started the next episode as she snaked an arm across his body. She tucked her feet up beneath her and leaned into him. Before long, Fluffy showed up and insisted on climbing across Paige and Wyatt several times.

  “Is he going to settle down?” Wyatt asked as the furry bastard kneaded his paws on Wyatt’s thigh.

  “Pet him. He’ll either go away or lie down.”

  “You know I don’t like cats, right?” he said to the animal. Fluffy meowed as if in disbelief.

  Paige laughed. “You just don’t understand cats. Look how cute he is. And he wants to be on your lap. How is that a bad thing?”

  “He also wanted to crap on my bed. That was definitely a bad thing.”

  She pushed away until she could look up at him. “And a dog wouldn’t do something bad? Poop on the floor, eat up your shoe, tear up the furniture?”

  She had him there. The last dog he’d had as a kid had chewed the arm right off Gran’s sofa one night when they were out shopping. Gran had been furious, and Bear had been relegated to a crate in the laundry room whenever they weren’t home. He’d eventually learned not to chew things.

  And then there was Gambler, Zane’s neurotic dog, who made this cat seem
like an angel. A crapping angel, but still.

  “Yeah, but a dog wouldn’t do it for revenge.”

  Paige snorted. “You really think Fluffy is that diabolical?”

  Wyatt looked into the blue eyes of the cat blinking up at him and knew he was right. “Oh hell yeah.”

  But he set the remote down and petted the cat’s head anyway. Fluffy settled for lying partly on him and partly on Paige. He purred louder than a chainsaw.

  “Good boy,” Paige murmured.

  Wyatt didn’t know if she was talking to him or the cat. And then he decided he didn’t care. Life was good right now, right here. He was warm, well fed, sexually satisfied, had a beautiful woman beside him and a purring cat on his lap. Well, partially on his lap.

  It was domestic. Normal.

  He liked it more than he should.

  Paige dozed. She couldn’t help it. Sitting with Wyatt, curled against him, felt good. He was big and warm and she was bored by the show anyway because she’d seen it before. Lived it.

  Mr. Fluffypants purred and then fell completely asleep, stretching out until he took up all of Wyatt’s lap and hers too. It felt nice to be held and to feel safe. So she slept.

  She dreamed off and on about different things, mostly about Wyatt’s magic tongue and the way it’d felt when he’d been deep inside her, his big body stroking into hers, driving her toward an orgasm she desperately craved. Everything about being with him had been magical.

  A voice burrowed into her subconscious, turning her dream dark and tangled. Instead of Wyatt, it was another man. A man she couldn’t see. He held her down, pinned her against the bed, and tried to pry her legs apart so he could shove his way inside her. She screamed.

  “Paige. Wake up. Paige.”

  Her eyes snapped open and Wyatt was there, looking worried and maybe even a little bit angry. Mr. Fluffypants was on the floor, tail switching as if he’d been disturbed in the middle of something.

  “I was dreaming,” she said, sitting up, blinking.

  The room was darkened and the TV was frozen in place because Wyatt had pressed the Stop button.

  “You kept saying no, no, no. Then you screamed.”