Stay With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “Enough,” I say firmly and pin her against the countertop, my hands planted on either side of her hips, and my face inches from hers.

  “Enough what?”

  “Enough of this. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this isn’t a reception full of strangers. It’s our family, and they’re having a good time. If they want drinks, they know damn well where to find the fucking kitchen.”

  “It’s kind of a big deal,” she says, shaking her head. “Our whole families are meeting for the first time.”

  “They haven’t come to fisticuffs yet,” I remind her and then smile when she narrows her eyes on me. “Seriously, you’re worrying for nothing.”

  At that moment, we can hear laughter coming from outside, driving my point home.

  “See?”

  “I’m just all nervous,” she admits and rolls her shoulders. “I want your parents to like me.”

  “They like you.” I lean in and kiss her neck, and she pulls away, making me frown.

  “They could walk in any second.”

  “I don’t give a fuck.” I kiss her neck again, and she doesn’t pull away this time. “This is my house, and I’m kissing the woman I love in it. I don’t have to explain myself to them.”

  She melts against me as my mouth explores hers. My hands drift up under her shirt, and my fingertips glide gently over her ribcage, making her shiver.

  “Are you loosening up yet?” I ask against her neck, and she squeezes my ass in response. “Kinky.”

  She giggles. “I’m not kinky.”

  I raise a brow. “No? What if I tied you to my bed and ate you out until you were a sweaty, quivering mess.”

  “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t say no.”

  “Are you starting to feel better?”

  “No, now I’m just turned on.”

  “That’s better than anxious,” I reply and kiss her softly before pulling away. “Now, let’s go back out there before my brothers accuse me of fucking you in the kitchen.”

  She looks horrified for a moment and then breaks out into laughter, which doesn’t help the state of my cock in the least.

  Out back, Archer and Jace have just set up the cornhole game that Archer brought with him.

  “You brought it,” Amelia says, excited. “Are you ready to have your ass handed to you?”

  She covers her mouth in surprise and looks over at my parents who just laugh.

  “Honey, cursing isn’t the end of the world,” my dad says. “Go flip them all some shit.”

  She grins. “I like you.”

  Dad winks at her, and we spend the next hour tossing small bean bags across my lawn, aiming for the hole in the middle of a board.

  “That’s right, I knocked you out, sucker,” Amelia calls to her brother and then sticks her tongue out at him.

  “I had no idea you were so passionate about cornhole,” I say with a laugh.

  “Oh, I’m very good at this game,” she replies happily. Since our moment in the kitchen, she’s much more relaxed. “I can kick Archer’s ass.”

  “In your dreams, little girl,” he taunts back. “You got lucky.”

  “So lucky that I’ve beaten you eight games in a row?” she asks and does a little dance. The Macarena, if I’m not mistaken.

  “You cheat,” Anastasia says.

  “You can’t cheat at cornhole,” Amelia insists. “You’re all just bad losers. And I’m the victor!”

  She thrusts her fists into the air and jogs around the yard in victory, making me laugh. I love this playful side of her.

  She stops in front of me, offering her lips up in celebration. I immediately kiss her chastely, and then she rubs her hands together.

  “What’s for dessert?”

  ~Amelia~

  I’m either having an excellent, sexy dream, or Wyatt is waking me up with his tongue.

  God bless him.

  He’s so fucking good at this wake-up sex thing. His hands are gentle but sensual. His mouth is smooth and confident. And his sexy, warm body is naked and hovering over me.

  I’m on my tummy. My first instinct is to flip over because there’s light filtering through the gauzy curtains, but then I remember, this is Wyatt, and he loves my ass.

  Cellulite and all.

  “Don’t you even think about trying to flip over,” he murmurs, not lifting his lips from my spine.

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  He smiles against me, then licks all the way up to my neck, sending shivers rolling over my body.

  “I know you,” he whispers against my ear. His nakedness is pressed against me now, and his cock is hard.

  “It seems you do.”

  He nibbles on the ball of my shoulder. “You’re delicious in the morning, sweetheart.”

  “You’re good at the morning sex.”

  “I can’t resist you when you’re in my bed, gorgeous. Naked. God, you’re every dream I’ve ever had.”

  I glance back at him over my shoulder. “You say some sweet things, but you don’t have to butter me up. I’m all for some morning sex.”

  He grins. “I’m not buttering you up for anything.”

  He flips me over and settles his pelvis against mine, rocking back and forth. My eyes are going to cross and roll back in my head.

  “You like that?”

  “Good Lord, yes,” I reply and reach up to brush his hair off his brow. “I haven’t found anything that you do that I don’t like.”

  “Excellent.” He lowers himself so he can press his lips to mine, and I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding on tightly as he pushes inside of me, still rocking gently. “You’re always so wet. So ready for me.”

  “Well, you’ve got the foreplay thing down.” I grin as his eyes narrow, and he starts to move faster, just a bit harder. “And you’re visually stunning.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I sigh and close my eyes, enjoying the way his body rocks mine, and how fully he fills me. “All of this is damn good.”

  He chuckles and links his fingers through mine, pinning our hands to the bed beside my head. The lovemaking is slow and hot, with deep breaths and gasps, sweaty bodies and sighs.

  I never want it to end.

  But before I know it, I can feel the orgasm building, and as if he can sense it, he presses his thumb against my clit, and that’s all I need to fall apart. Spectacularly.

  “So beautiful,” he whispers as he’s coming down from his own orgasm. He kisses my cheek, my nose, my forehead. “You make me fucking crazy, Amelia.”

  “Back at you, sexy man.”

  He plants a firm kiss on my lips, then climbs off the bed.

  “I have to take a shower.”

  “Okay.”

  He grins and, suddenly, reaches down to pull me off of the bed and into his arms, marching to the bathroom.

  “I guess I need a shower, too?”

  “I dirtied you up. I need to clean up my mess.”

  I giggle as he sets me down and starts the water. He reaches for a bag sitting on the countertop and pulls out a shower puff, the shower gel I use, and my favorite kind of razor.

  “Wow.”

  “Now you don’t have to run home all of the time to shower,” he says and winks at me. “And I can have my way with you in the water.”

  He pulls me into his spacious, tiled stand-up shower. The glass door is heavy and already steaming up. There’s a bench on one wall, where he has a bottle of shampoo and conditioner waiting for me.

  “You thought of everything,” I say as he lathers up my shower puff and begins cleaning my skin. “I like a man who’s prepared.”

  “I’m very prepared,” he says, his face serious, but I know he’s being silly, and this is a side of him that I love. “I make lists all of the time.”

  “Really. Lists. That is impressive.”

  “I know. Also, I’ve never been late paying a bill. Because I set reminders on my phone.”

  “Now you’re just trying to get
back in my pants.”

  I giggle when he slaps my wet ass, then turns me away from him so he can wash my back.

  “You’re not wearing any pants,” he reminds me. “So, I’m already kind of in them.”

  “True.” He lets the puff fall to the tile and grips my hips, pulling me to him.

  “Bend over and grab that bench, baby.”

  I look over my shoulder with a raised brow. The humor has left his hazel eyes, replaced by pure, unadulterated lust.

  “It wasn’t a question,” he says, and I bite my lip, complying. He’s quickly inside me again, but it’s not light and fun this time. It’s hard and fast and over quickly, with both of us quivering and panting. He spins me back into his arms and hugs me close.

  “The bossiness is sexy,” I inform him, catching my breath. “But if you think you’ll get away with it outside of the bedroom, you can think again.”

  He smirks. “I love you, Amelia. You make me laugh more than I have in years.” He reaches for the puff and lathers it up again, then gets back to work. “What are your plans today?”

  “Work.” I sigh as he grazes my shoulders. It feels fantastic. “You?”

  “I’ll be working downtown all day,” he says. “So I won’t see you until later tonight.”

  “Okay.” He rinses me off, and I take the puff from him, returning the favor. “I’d better get you all clean now.”

  “Yes, you did make a mess, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah, and I’ll do it again later.”

  “Good girl.”

  It’s several hours later when the doorbell rings. A postal carrier has me sign for a letter.

  It’s from my attorney. Vinnie has finally been served, and we have a mediation date. My heart speeds up as I skim down the letter.

  I have to be in mediation in ten days.

  Ten days!

  I immediately reach for my phone and call Pam.

  “Hi, Pam, I just got your letter.”

  “Do you have any issues with getting here in time for the meeting?” she asks.

  “No, I’ll absolutely be there. But is there a way for us not to have to be in the same room? Like, can the mediator just go back and forth between two conference rooms so I don’t have to be near him?”

  “Sure, we can do that. There will be an extra charge for the second conference room.”

  Of course, there will be. I roll my eyes, not even wanting to think about the tens of thousands I’ve already paid Pam in legal fees.

  “That’s fine, I’d rather not have to see him.”

  “I understand. We’ll meet here in my office. Vinnie and his lawyer will be here as well, in a different room, and a mediator will be here to hopefully get this all settled.”

  “If we can come to an agreement on that day, how long will it be until the divorce is final?”

  “Fourteen days,” she says, and I immediately break out into a happy dance. “Let me know if you need anything, but otherwise, I’ll see you in ten days.”

  “Thanks, Pam.”

  I hang up and do a little shimmy. This will be perfect. Maybe Wyatt can fly down with me, and we can work on packing up my condo and get my car, then drive back to Seattle. Road trips are fun, and we’d have a great time. He may not be able to take time off of work, but I hope he can.

  God, I’m just so excited. By this time next month, I’ll finally be rid of Vinnie forever and I can move on with my life. It’s about damn time.

  I’m still holding my phone, and it starts to ring in my hand, startling me.

  “Hi, Stasia. What’s up?”

  “I need your help,” she says. “It’s not an emergency, but I had two orders come in for this weekend. I committed to both and then realized that I only have two hands. Can you come help me bake the cakes while I decorate? I know it’s last minute, but I could use your hands.”

  “I have excellent hands,” I agree and laugh when she snorts on the other end. “I can totally help. I’ll bring food, too.”

  “You’re seriously bailing me out,” she says. “See you soon?”

  “Yep, I’ll be there within the hour.”

  I hang up and immediately text Wyatt.

  Hey, I gotta go help my sister. I’ve been roped into cake duty. Probably won’t be home until late.

  I run upstairs to change clothes, and as I’m climbing into Jules’ car to head to Bellevue, Wyatt replies.

  Have fun. Love you.

  I grin and reply with a love you too and head toward Anastasia’s shop. Life’s damn good. I’m ridiculously in love, and all of the legal shit is about to be over.

  It just doesn’t get better than this.

  “Holy fuck, we baked a lot of cake today.” We’re sitting in Anastasia’s apartment, drinking a bottle of wine, stuffed full of takeout pizza.

  “So much cake,” I agree and take another sip of wine. I don’t drink often, so it’s already going to my head. “You should bring on some help, especially if you’re getting this much work. You can’t do it all yourself.”

  “I know, and I’m looking around. I wasn’t expecting to have to expand so soon.” She grins and leans over to clink her glass to mine. “Here’s to successful businesses, for both of us.”

  “We fucking kick ass,” I reply with a nod. “Of course, I learned it all from you.”

  “You’ve had too much to drink already,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “No, I haven’t. You have such a strong work ethic, Stasia. You always have. And I admit that I’ve just always wanted to make you proud of me. So I work hard, like you. Because I do.”

  My nose itches. Maybe I have had a little much to drink.

  “See? Too much to drink.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true.” I shrug a shoulder. “Are you doing okay? With the new business and moving back here and all of it?”

  “I’m happy,” she says with a nod. “It’s good to be home.”

  “I know.” I clear my throat. “I’m moving home, too.”

  “What? When?”

  “In a few weeks.” I smile and tell her about going back down for mediation and packing up my things while I’m there. “I’m so excited. I want to be close to you guys.”

  “What does Wyatt think?”

  “He’s excited. Relieved, I think.”

  “I get it,” she says with a nod. “Things are serious there.”

  “Yeah.” I scratch my nose again. “He’s so hot, sis. Like, steaming hot.”

  “He’s definitely hot.” She laughs. “I think I’m a little tipsy, too.”

  “We haven’t done this in years.” I giggle and pour more wine into our glasses. “It’s okay that you think Wyatt’s hot. Because he is.”

  “Vinnie wasn’t hot,” she says with a scowl. “I guess someone might think he is, but he’s such a douchetard that he’s not.”

  “Agreed.” We clink glasses again. “I miss Wyatt. I’m going to text him.”

  “Good idea. Make him send you pictures.”

  I nod and open my phone.

  Hey, bbe. Luv u. Send me a dick pic, k?

  I giggle and set my phone aside. “I totally just asked him for a dick pic.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she says and dissolves into giggles. “That’s kind of pervy.”

  “He has a stellar dick,” I reply as my phone pings.

  Not happening, even for you. Are you drunk?

  “He asked if I’m drunk.”

  We stare at each other and then dissolve into more laughter.

  “My fingers don’t work well, so I’m just gonna call him.”

  “Good idea.”

  The phone only rings once when he picks up.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m fantastic. Hi.”

  “Hi, baby.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes me gooey.

  “You’re sexy.”

  “Thank you. So, on a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you?”

  “Oh, I’m like a seve
n.” I hiccup and then scratch my nose again. The fucker is so itchy! “I don’t think I should come home tonight.”

  “She’ll stay with me,” Anastasia yells out.

  “Good plan,” Wyatt says.

  “I miss your penis,” I inform him, and Stasia snorts loudly. “Like, you should send me a picture.”

  “No way,” he says and laughs. “You can see it tomorrow.”

  “So far away,” I reply with a sigh. “I didn’t realize you were mean.”

  “Damn, you’re wasted. Get some sleep, baby.”

  “He calls me baby,” I inform Anastasia, who’s just watching me with a sleepy smile. “Okay, see you tomorrow. Love you and your penis.”

  I hang up and toss my phone on the ottoman.

  “He’s good for you,” she says.

  “Yeah. I think I’m good for him, too.”

  “I think so.” She yawns. “We should go to bed. I’m so tired.”

  “Where am I sleeping?”

  She blinks in surprise and then shrugs one shoulder. “Looks like you’re bunking with me.”

  “We used to do that a lot as kids, remember?”

  “You’re a bed hog,” she says as she leads me into her bedroom. She tosses me a clean T-shirt, and we change, then climb into her king-sized bed and snuggle down. I scooch over and hug her from behind. “Jesus, I forgot how much you like to snuggle. Get off of me.”

  “I need to snuggle.” Yeah, I sound whiny. I don’t care. “I have to be able to sleep.”

  “You can sleep without having your cold feet and hands all over me.” She laughs and shoves me away. “Go away.”

  “No.” I hold onto her tightly. “I’m gonna make you snuggle me. I’m your baby sister, and I need you.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  “Love you, sissy.”

  “Love you, too.”

  My car won’t fucking start.

  Strike that. Jules’ car won’t start. I’m staring at it as if it’s betrayed me and sigh heavily. I’m hungover so badly, I can barely see. Anastasia has more work today, so she can’t run me home.

  So, I call my knight in shining armor.

  “Good morning,” he says, and I pull the phone away from my head, scowling at it.

  “There’s no need to yell, Wyatt.”