Page 184 of The Havenport Collection

Sylvie

I was in deep trouble.

I had spent the past two nights with Wyatt, and things were not slowing down. If anything, the intensity between us grew every moment we were together.

We lost whole days to exploring one another in my apartment. I had never been with anyone who put me first every time, who prioritized my pleasure and made me feel like the sexiest woman alive.

We listened to music, talked about our hopes and dreams, and snuggled up in front of my tiny fireplace, which Wyatt kept roaring through the snowy evenings.

Our conversations frequently got deeper, something that scared and thrilled me.

I loved learning more about Wyatt, but I was hesitant to share more about myself.

He looked at me like I was the most fascinating, accomplished woman on earth.

I didn’t want to ruin that by showing him what a sad mess I really was.

“Why did you stay with her?” I asked, after he mentioned his ex.

He sighed. “I hate saying this because it makes me sound so pathetic. But I was just so down on myself, I didn’t even think to leave. Rachel chipped away at my self-esteem over the years. Always criticizing me, always saying I wasn’t good enough.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I let her treat me like that because deep down I believed what she was saying. I believed that I wasn’t successful or ambitious enough. I believed that I was ugly and undesirable.”

My eyes welled with tears. “Stop, Wyatt. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

He kissed my forehead. “After I found out she was cheating on me, it was a wake-up call. I needed to pursue my dreams, be the man I wanted to be. So I found Liam’s business card and called him.”

“I’m so glad you did.”

“Rachel said brewing was juvenile and stupid. So for years, I just bartended—wanting to take the leap and being too scared. But then I realized that I had wasted so much time being stuck and unhappy.”

I snuggled up next to him as he continued. “She just made me feel so bad about myself. Always shaming me about my weight and trying to put me on diets.”

I saw red. “What? That bitch.”

He chuckled. “I love it when you get feisty. It’s fine. She would just complain she wasn’t attracted to me anymore.”

I stood up and stomped my feet. “She really is a hell beast. Where is she? I want to kick her ass.”

He pulled me down into his lap. “I don’t care about what she thinks. That’s why I moved. To live my dreams and be the man I want to be.”

“And now you’re here,” I said, kissing him deeply. “I can’t believe any woman was dumb enough to cheat on you. Her loss is my gain.”

He smiled broadly at me. “You are the woman of my dreams, Sylvie.”

I wanted to share too. To show him my sad, ugly bits, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. And my heart was so full of rage for him. For the way he was treated. And I wanted him to understand how special he was, how incredible and worthy and sexy,

So I did the only thing I could think of. I tore off my shirt and kept kissing him.

He looked at me, and I thought he might say it. Might say the words that had been hanging in the air between us.

But instead he smiled his lazy, sated smile and pulled me back toward him where I snuggled against his chest. He kissed the top of my head.

“Waking up to you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“That’s cheesy,” I said, hiding my ear to ear grin.

He shrugged and snuggled me closer. “It’s how I feel. Looking at your sleepy, beautiful face in the morning is a dream come true.”

His warmth enveloped me, and I could feel my heart clench. I snuggled up to him and admired his broad chest covered with a thin sprinkle of chest hair. He was just so manly and strong, but also so kind and gentle.

There was so much I wanted to say to him. But I could not force the words out. So instead, I decided to show him.

I began to kiss down his chest, looking up at him and never breaking eye contact. His bright blue eyes were focused and filled with heat.

“Is that all right?” I asked, moving down toward the waistband of his boxers.

His eyes rolled back, and he let out a growl as I slowly inched his boxers down, and I reveled in the effect I had on him.

The need built up inside me, and I thought I might burst as I lowered my lips to his crown and took him into my mouth.

His hips lifted off the bed as I took him deeper, relishing the power I had to give him pleasure.

In prior relationships, sex had been a chore, something I did begrudgingly. But with Wyatt, I wanted him all the time. I wanted to give him pleasure and watch him come apart. I wanted to feel the way our bodies fit perfectly together. And I loved seeing this quiet, gentle man lose control.

It was only a few minutes before he pulled me up and flipped me onto my back. “My turn,” he said, eyes gleaming. He was no longer groggy or sleepy; he was focused and alert. Within minutes I was writhing and begging for release, and he expertly used his fingers and tongue to bring me to the brink.

He picked his head up and gave me a wicked smile. “Not yet, gorgeous. I need to be inside you.” He reached quickly for the open box of condoms on the nightstand—we had needed them close by—and rolled one on quickly.

Before I knew it he had maneuvered me onto my hands and knees and was easing into me from behind.

It felt so tight and so deep I cried out almost immediately.

I threw my head back, crying out as his fingers found my clit, and I clenched around him.

He was just so damn good at reading my body and its cues.

I had gone from believing I was someone who had to work extra hard to orgasm to having multiples with ease.

By the time I climbed on top of him, I didn’t think this could get any better. But as I eased him inside of me, I was struck by the realization that it wasn’t just the physical that was perfect. It was everything. Neither of us was perfect, but we were perfect together.

After our sweaty lovemaking session, I stumbled to the bathroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror.

My hair was a tangled mess, and my eye makeup was smudged under my eyes, but my face glowed with happiness.

I was naked, but for a pair of woolly socks and a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

But I had never felt more beautiful and more alive.

“Get back in here and snuggle, woman,” he shouted from my warm bed. I loved when his inner caveman came out, and I hurried back to him.

He wrapped me in his arms, making me feel safe and protected from the world, and I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. “I don’t want to leave you, Wyatt,” I whispered.

He buried his face in my neck. “So don’t.”

My stomach dropped. “I have to.”