Page 22

Chapter 22

Moxie

“H ey there, gorgeous.” Wyatt leans in for a quick hello kiss that feels as natural as breathing when I let him in the door. I don’t know when I shifted to being so comfortable with him, but it’s scary and spectacular all at once.

When I step aside, my eyes catch on the object in his arms, and it’s going to take everything I have to be polite about it.

"Whatcha got there?” I ask, attempting casual curiosity.

He groans, and I relax since it isn’t something he’s overly attached to. “My mom’s love language is gift giving, but she’s not particularly good at it. She doesn’t know you, but she was convinced this would be a perfect fit for your place.”

I grimace. I can’t imagine this thing being a perfect fit for anyone’s home. The only house it belongs in is the haunted kind. It’s a painted statue about three feet tall. It’s humanoid but not quite right. It sends a shiver down my spine in the same uncanny way that the animation in The Polar Express does. The thing is creepy as hell, with major Chuckie vibes.

“Are we sure this isn’t some kind of maternal hazing intended to scare me away?”

“Oh no, she’s stoked about you. This is a genuine attempt at an olive branch. She’s paranoid that you think she’s awful after she made such a bad impression the first two times she met you.”

“And this is supposed to give me a good one?” I ask.

“She thinks so. This is the kind of stuff you get to look forward to.” He runs a hand through his hair and laughs nervously, but I’m stuck on the last thing he said: The kind of stuff you get to look forward to. Wyatt is thinking about our future, and rather than that terrifying me, I’m excited by it.

He's oblivious to the revelations happening in my brain and is looking at the statue like he’d feel much more comfortable pitching it into a fireplace. “I promised I’d give it to you, but you’re under no obligation to keep it.”

“Maybe I’ll keep it in a closet and just bring it out if she ever comes over here,” I say. Wyatt’s face lights up. From what I’ve seen of his mom, I’m certain she’s coming over at some point. I’d better keep my apartment clean.

“You don’t have to do that. She’ll probably move onto other gifts and forget she even gave it to you.”

“Here, you can set it in the corner for now.”

He sets it down to face the corner in a ghoulish time out. I wince, and mutter “sorry” as I drape a jacket over it.

“Did you just apologize to it?” he asks.

“Yes, and now I'm paranoid it’s going to be mad I covered it up and will seek revenge,” I say.

“Calling it, ‘it’ probably isn’t helping,” he says.

“Sorry about the jacket, Chuckenstein. Just a little blanket for you.” A shiver runs down my spine despite the room’s warmth. Wyatt rubs my arms, the friction bringing heat to them. I lift onto my toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I don’t know if I can sleep knowing that thing is in the other room,” he says.

“Getting presumptuous about spending the night, are we?” I ask, but he can presume all he wants. I nearly said, “Good thing I’ve got plans that involve neither of us getting much sleep.”

He blushes. He’s usually so smooth and sexy, so when I manage to put him just a little off-balance like this, it’s a treat. “Maybe, but don’t feel any pressure. We can hang for a bit and then I can head home for the night if you want me to. I just want to spend time with you.”

And that’s the crux of it. I want to spend time with him, too. No promised adventure as a trade-off, and no putting on a show for anyone, just him and me. I know I said I'd give us a real shot, but now I can’t even pretend that any of this is fake. I don’t even care if we get naked. I mean, I certainly would enjoy it if we do, and I’m hoping for that, but if we don’t, that’s okay too. I’m confident it would still be a good night. I clear my throat to rid myself of the emotional lump forming there.

“You don’t have to go anywhere. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.”

Wyatt smiles in return, and for a minute, things get a little awkward. Neither of us knows how to proceed until I find a way to break the ice. “Are you sure you’re good with frozen pizzas?”

“You bet. Maybe in a little while, though, unless you’re hungry now?”

“In a while is good. I’m not hungry yet.” Hungry for Wyatt, yes. Food? Not so much. “Anything to drink?”

“Just a water for now, please,” Wyatt says. Everything feels so stilted and formal, and it’s making me worried that the casual ease with which we’ve interacted in the past is a trick of being in public, and now that we’re alone, we won’t mesh.

I lead the way to the couch, then watch his smooth movements as he takes a seat next to me. He sets his water down on the table, and my eyes are drawn to the way his muscles flex as he moves. I want to run my hand over his arm, but that’d probably be a weird thing to do out of the blue.

“See something you like?” he asks, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. Not only did I get caught staring, my lower lip pops free of my teeth. I didn’t even realize I was biting it. I’m far from embarrassed, though. My ogling finally broke the tension and brought out Wyatt’s playful side. This is a game I’m familiar with, and I relax comfortably into our banter.

I give him a light shove, and he allows himself to fall back, his head landing on the arm of the couch. I crawl on top of him. "Always so cocky.”

“You were the one staring at me. Was I wrong?” he asks without a trace of concern that he might have been.

“No, you were not.” I kiss him, and we melt into each other. I’m not sure if five minutes or fifty pass while we make out on the couch like teenagers, all roving hands and rustling fabric. Eventually I rest my head on his chest, and he alternates between stroking my hair and rubbing my back while we tune into the movie for a while.

“Who’s this guy supposed to be again?” I ask.

“I have no idea. Someone is distracting me,” he says.

“Guilty.” I kiss his chest and lay my head back down with a sated hum.

A few minutes pass, and while I try to focus on the movie, I’m beyond lost with the plot. Even if we hadn’t missed half the movie thanks to our locked lips, the soothing sensation of his strong hands tracing my back has my full attention.

“Why are they fighting with those guys?” I ask.

“Not a clue,” he says.

“And why can’t that guy just use his powers against the bad guy? Seems like a plot hole to me.”

He laughs, and his fingers gently scrape my scalp in just the right way. A moan slips out.

“Do you always talk this much during movies?” he asks, more curious and teasing than accusatory.

“No, but I’m usually pretty in the zone while watching them. You’re making it a little hard to focus.”

“Only a little? I’m going to have to up my game.”

He doesn’t need to do a damn thing to improve his game. His nearness is enough to heat my face and send a needy twitching between my thighs. His kisses have left me wet and anxious to move on to the next part of our evening. His hands’ tentative roving has me eager to see all the ways he can be gentle and not so gentle with me. “Okay, a lot.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you ignore the movie,” he whispers.

A wicked grin pulls at my cheeks. I swing my leg over his and pull his face to mine. He lifts his leg the slightest bit, pressing his thigh against me. I gasp at the contact and can’t help but grind against him as his tongue teases mine.

My body burns hot with desire, but I’m wildly aware that it’s Wyatt who’s making me feel good. His name runs a loop in my head. I’m in the moment and also flashing back to flour rubbed off my cheek and dancing in fields. I marvel at how present I am in these kisses. In all my one-night stands, there were good nights and bad, but even during the good ones, my mind would go blank. I’d experience physical sensation and nothing more.

On our dates over the last few weeks, fake or not, I've fallen for Wyatt. My heart tugs in my chest as we lift off each other’s shirts and our hands explore. My feelings for him drive my physical desire, making every throb of longing even more desperate than I thought possible.

“More,” I gasp between breaths because kissing and touching is no longer enough. My need builds, and if I don’t find release soon, I might combust.

We clumsily remove our pants and are just coming back together when he grimaces.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“The Frankenchuckie Thing. I feel like it’s watching me.”

My laugh comes out as a completely unattractive snort, but apparently Wyatt doesn’t think so because he laughs and kisses me like I’ve just done the sexiest of strip teases.

“Let’s move to the bedroom,” I say. We proceed with an awkward naked scamper because I need to be touching him sooner rather than later, but there is no non-awkward way to run when naked.

He follows behind me, and I pull the door shut behind him and lock it for good measure. I turn to catch Wyatt smirking again, his eyes fixed on my dresser drawer. I climb on the bed to join him.

“I promised we’d explore the contents of that drawer next time. It’s next time.” As he says this, his warm chest presses into my back and his fingers blaze a slow trail down my arms. He kisses my neck.

I’m one of the lucky women who can get off with a man and without the assistance of a toy, but a toy sure makes it a heck of a lot easier and usually more enjoyable. If he’s game to use one, I’m not about to turn him down.

“Did you have something specific in mind?” I ask, debating my options and pressing my ass against the evidence of his arousal.

One of his hands runs over the curve of my hips, up my side, and cups my breast. “Nope. Introduce me to my teammates. Which one is your favorite?” His voice is husky at my ear, and I tilt my head to give him better access to my neck.

“What a... healthy attitude...” I say between labored breaths, and I reach to grab my trusty vibe. It’s basic but has the perfect speed settings to get the job done.

He gently nudges me to lay down. “Show me,” he commands, and I obey, turning the vibrator on and bringing it to circle the area surrounding my clit. I gasp at the contact and moan as I roll it over my most sensitive spots, teasing myself in waves.

Out of habit, my eyes roll closed, but that doesn’t stop my skin from prickling with the heat of his gaze. I open my eyes and meet his intoxicated stare drinking in my nudity. I spread my legs wider, and a husky groan resonates in his throat. I smirk, high on the power of putting on a little show for him.

“That’s a good girl.” Wyatt kneels next to me with a fist over his cock, slowly stroking himself. With his other hand, he teases my entrance, and the pressure mounts to unbearably blissful levels as I gasp.

“Please,” I moan, and I tug the vibrator away, edging myself out of coming.

“Please, what?” he asks, pumping faster.

“I want you inside me, now.”

In a blur, he has a condom on, and he’s thrusting inside me. I increase the speed of the vibrator, and my mouth falls open in silent screams of pleasure as he pounds into me. The combined sensation of his thrusts and the vibration intensifies until I can’t take it any longer. I crash over the edge as a powerful orgasm overtakes me.

I scream a blend of incoherent sounds and his name as he thrusts again, grunting his own release.

“You’re incredible,” he says, and kisses my forehead.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tease, thinking he’s fucking amazing.

We clean up and return to bed. Cuddled together, I'm filled with a fizzy feeling, delirious off Wyatt. We pull the sheets over our heads and laugh together as we share secrets.

When we get hungry, I make the pizzas, and we pretend to understand what’s going on in the movie that we’ve watched in snatches, while the food bakes.

We find our way back to bed for round two, and I don’t even hesitate to whisper in the darkness, “Stay.”