Page 42 of Tempting Wyatt (Triple Creek Ranch #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

wyatt

THE RAIN CATCHES ME OFF GUARD. That rarely ever happens.

But I’ve been a little distracted lately.

It wasn’t in the forecast until a few days from now. But Doppler radar and weather reports be damned because it’s coming down hard when I make it to where Antonio is handling a heifer in distress. She’s stuck in the mud halfway down the mountain.

“Son of a bitch,” I bite out as I help him with the rope.

In some ways, we need the rain. In others, it will be a wasted day tomorrow, where no one can get shit done because of the fucking mud. If it goes on too long, we’ll be sandbagging riverbanks until our backs break.

There’s a beautiful woman waiting in my bed, and I’m here.

“I’ll go down and push her,” I tell Antonio. “You hold tight to the rope.”

The rain hasn’t let up, and neither has this damn heifer. She’s wedged herself in a patch of thick mud halfway up the mountain, legs sunken deep, her breathing ragged from the struggle.

“Come on, girl,” I mutter, bracing myself as I move to the backside of her. “You wanna be stubborn, fine, but you’re getting outta here one way or another.”

I drive my shoulder into her rear, muscles burning, cursing the way the mud sucks at my feet with every step.

The rain seeps past my collar, cold as hell, but the heifer finally shifts, her weight rocking forward.

With one last shove and a loud disgruntled sound from her, she stumbles free, nearly taking me down in the process.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” I say dryly as she huffs and trudges toward the others.

I tell Antonio to get some shut eye now that this is handled.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and glance at the time on my phone. It’s a few minutes shy of midnight. Hell.

I should’ve been back hours ago. Back to my cabin. Back to my bed.

Back to Ivy.

The thought sends something restless through me, tightening low in my gut as I swing into the saddle and guide Jameson down the mountain.

She was already curled up in my bed like she belonged there when I left. And damn if I didn’t want to be right beside her, warm and tangled up in the scent of her.

Instead, I’m soaked through, sore as hell, and half asleep by the time I reach the cabin. The porch light is still on, the glow from inside spilling warmth across the rain-slicked steps.

When I step inside, I’m wrapped in Ivy’s vanilla and sunshine scent, along with something else, something savory.

Sure enough, propped against the saltshaker on the kitchen table, is a note in neat, cursive feminine handwriting.

There’s food in the oven, keeping warm. Don’t argue, just eat. You’re welcome.

I might be smiling as I take off my boots.

When I open the oven, the scent of chicken and herbs fills the kitchen.

I pull it out and eat it straight from the pan.

She repurposed some of my leftovers into a chicken and rice casserole, and it’s damn good.

A hell of a lot better than the cold pizza I was going to inhale standing over the sink.

As I eat, I notice the whole place feels different with her in it. Warmer. Less empty somehow. I’ve always appreciated my solitude—side effect of growing up with five siblings. But this is nice.

That realization plagues me as I shower, letting the hot water ease the tension in my shoulders and back.

She’s leaving in a matter of days, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to stop the thoughts running through my head.

The fantasies of her, in a scenario where she’s here for more than just a few days.

Where she’s standing barefoot in my kitchen, looking edible in my shirt, stretching up to grab a plate from the cupboard.

The way she looks curled up in my sheets.

My body reacts to the thought of her.

As exhausted as I am, I think about fisting my dick before getting in bed. Before I make a decision, she’s there, like I conjured her with my thoughts.

“Late night?”

I see her through the fogged-over glass shower door. Wild curls. Bare legs beneath my shirt.

My fantasy come to life.

If I’m being honest, I was hoping I’d wake her so I could taste her again.

“Yeah. Sorry if I woke you.”

I can barely make out the sight of her biting her lip as she eyes my naked body.

“It’s okay,” she says so low I almost don’t hear. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”

I missed you.

Fuck.

I open the shower door, reach out and pull her to me, clothes and all. The hot spray drenches her completely within seconds as I yank her body to mine.

“Feels like I’ve been missing you my entire life, angel.”

With that, I kiss her, sweeping my tongue inside her sweet warm mouth until she moans.

“Wyatt,” she whispers, but I don’t stop. I drag my soaked shirt off her body and let it hit the shower floor with a slap.

“I was hoping you’d be awake so I could taste you again. I fucking dream of your sweet pussy, baby.”

She trembles in my arms but then gives me a look that could burn through steel.

“I’ve been dreaming of tasting you, too. And it’s my turn.”

Before I have time to have another thought, she lowers herself before me, knees landing on her discarded shirt.

All thoughts of my previous exhaustion fly from my mind as the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen kneels before me. Looking up at me with doe eyes framed by wet lashes, she strokes my cock like it’s her most prized possession.

The moan comes from deep in my chest and my head wants to fall back in pleasure, but I’ll be damned if I’m missing a moment of this.

Her pretty pink tongue slips out and slides up the length of my cock. I fist a hand in her hair because I can see how quickly I could lose control if she goes at her own pace.

She grins up at me.

“I’ll be gentle,” she says softly.

“Liar.”

She smirks then she sucks the head of my dick like a lollipop.

“Fuck, baby.”

Her hand is still wrapped around me as she takes more of me, an inch at a time.

When she tries to take it all, she gags, coughs a bit, then suctions her lips right back to my sensitive flesh.

“That’s a good girl. You can take it all, angel.”

“It’s so fucking big,” she whimpers, sending my ego soaring. I’m aware that I’m well endowed. I’m a big guy all over. But damn, what it does to me to hear her say it.

“Relax your throat, baby. You can do it,” I coax, loving the determination in her eyes when she looks up at me again.

I stroke her jaw softly as she tries again and again to take all of me.

Her mouth pulls at me like a snug fist, until I reach the danger zone. “‘Bout to come, angel,” I warn, in case she wants to move and let my release go down the drain.

She doesn’t. She sucks harder, faster, and my fist in her hair does nothing to stop her.

Now that she’s taken it all, she damn near swallows my cock.

When the sensitive tip of my dick hits the back of her throat, I explode inside her.

Her fingers dig into my thighs as she swallows every drop.

When I’m spent, my head does fall back. Because it’s spinning and my ears are ringing. The steam in the shower envelops us in a warm cocoon I could stay in forever.

“Good fucking girl,” I praise her. “Such a good fucking girl.”

She beams with pride as I help her stand. “I wanted to please you,” she says softly. “You work so hard. And you’ve taken such good care of me.”

I’ll always take care of you.

My own thoughts threaten to send me into a panic. I should keep my distance. Should remind myself she’s not staying.

Ivy comes with an expiration date.

But damn if I don’t find myself thinking that I could get used to this.

And that’s a pointless fucking thought to have.