Page 157 of Only With Me

He looks outside, making sure we’re still alone. Then I crawl off his lap and release his cock, then bring my mouth down on him.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long.”

After I lick up his shaft and suck on him a few times, I hollow my cheeks and squeeze my fingers around his shaft.

His hand tightens in my hair and he comes down my throat with a roar. I do my best to lick him clean before he pulls me up and quickly kisses me.

“We’ve gotta go.” He pulls himself into his jeans and then shifts into drive.

I look behind us and see the sheriff’s SVU, his bright light shining directly into Waylon’s truck.

He slams on the gas, and I burst out laughing as I pull on my seat belt. Luckily, the sheriff doesn’t even bother following us.

“Natalie’s getting rusty,” I say once we’re back on the road. “Took her fifteen minutes longer than last time to have someone find us.”

“I have a feelin’ the sheriff didn’t come lookin’ for us right away.”

“He’s gonna chew our asses when we see him next, ain’t he?” I wince.

Waylon smirks at me. “Yep.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Waylon

SIX WEEKS LATER

Harlow’s turning twenty-one, and since she’s not interested in spending it at a bar, I’ve decided to give her the best birthday celebration I can. But first, I need Wilder’s help with part of it.

“Wilder? You here?” I call into his apartment.

Unlike him, I know how to knock and not walk into someone’s home unannounced.

When he doesn’t answer, I step inside. “Hello? You better not be naked.”

After no response and not seeing him in his room or the kitchen, I check his location and see he’s two minutes away, so I go outside and wait for him next to my truck.

He pulls in and I’m ready to give him a hard time about being late, but I notice the look on his face—a mixture of emotions I’m not used to seeing from him.

“Hey, you okay?” I push off my door and walk toward him.

“Yeah, just had an appointment and it ran a little longer than usual.”

“What kinda appointment?”

He goes to walk past me, but I quickly grab his arm.

“What’s going on? Are you sick?”

“No…well, depends how you look at it.” He shrugs.

I stare at him, waiting for him to explain what he means by that.

“What kinda appointment was it?” I ask again.

He blows out a defeated breath like he knows he’s not gonna get away from this conversation. “I started seein’ a therapist a few weeks ago.”

My eyes widen in shock and relief. “Really? That’s…great. Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”