Protected by a Hero
Page 117
“So not helping,” she said, her voice all breathy and weak. She’d sensed this in him, the latent sensuality he was showing her now, but she hadn’t anticipated how much it would affect her.
“Sorry.” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t, and he didn’t budge, apparently content to tease her with the feel of his strength and the hardness of his erection pressed against her ass. “Maybe I’m taking pointers. I’ve never made mac ’n cheese before, except from a box.”
“That’s disgusting and wrong,” she said, and finally got control back over her body long enough to add the last of the cheese into the simmering sauce. “Once you try this, you’ll never go back.”
“Hmm, can’t wait to taste it,” he murmured, and the sexual tone made her clench her upper thighs together, which only increased the throb between them.
I can’t wait either. God, she couldn’t ever remember getting this hot and bothered from some flirting. She couldn’t even call those little kisses he’d just given her foreplay, because they’d been over too quick. Anxiety danced in her belly when she thought of where things were heading between them tonight. She hadn’t been with anyone since John died and the thought of sleeping with Wyatt was both thrilling and a little terrifying. She didn’t do flings, hadn’t been interested in anyone else until now, and she was nervous.
Finally, he released her and went to feed Grits, enabling her to think again. Once she’d drained and rinsed the partially cooked pasta, she added it to the sauce, stirred it all together and sprinkled buttered breadcrumbs over the top. After tidying up a bit she threw together a quick salad, sliced some fresh, local strawberries and tossed them with sugar while the dish baked in the oven.
Checking the mac ’n cheese, her stomach growled in anticipation when she saw that it was bubbling and the breadcrumbs were a golden brown. “It’s ready.”
Wyatt had the plates and utensils out by the time she’d pulled it from the oven. “Oh, man, that smells awesome,” he groaned.
“Oh, it’s better than awesome,” she said with pride. “My mom took this to every church potluck we ever went to and people always go crazy for it. She gets requests for it all the time.” She glanced over at him. “Where do you want to eat?”
“How about out on the back porch?”
“That sounds perfect.” She carried the salad out while he took the hot casserole dish and their plates. Grits trotted outside with them. “Oh, it’s a screen porch!” she said, glancing around the cozy space.
A porch swing covered in a long cushion and throw pillows rocked in the breeze at one end, a table and chairs with ottomans sitting opposite it. “My grandmother had one of these at her old place down in Mississippi. I used to sleep out there on a day bed she always made up for me with a pretty quilt on top. It was too hot to sleep with the quilt on, but every morning I put it back on the bed and smoothed it out.”
“I love it out here,” he answered, setting the mac ’n cheese on a hunting magazine to protect the wooden table. “I’ve been known to sleep on this swing. I built it extra long and deep to fit me.”
The words long and deep made her think of the exact opposite of sleeping. “You built it?”
He flashed her an amused smile. “You’re not the only one handy with a saw and hammer.”
She sank onto one end of the swing and waited while Wyatt filled a plate for her, motioning with one hand to ask for more mac ’n cheese when he put one measly scoop next to the heap of greens. He sat next to her and she watched as he took his first bite.
He stopped chewing, looked over at her and groaned deep in his chest.
“Good, right?” she asked, that deep rumble of pleasure doing nothing to cool the arousal building inside her.
“Oh, man,” he moaned, and immediately scooped up another bite.
“It’s the smoked cheddar, I think. The combination of cheese is to die for. Now aren’t you glad I made enough for leftovers tomorrow?”
He made a sound of agreement and kept eating. It felt intimate, sitting out here alone with him in this most private spot. Wyatt didn’t let many people in, and she was honored that he trusted her enough. “So I’ve been dying to ask you.”
“Ask me what?”
“About that ‘family situation’ you mentioned at the restaurant the other night.”
“Oh.” He lowered his plate. “My brother, Brody. He’s two years younger than me.” Wyatt shook his head, his expression rueful. “It’s a hell of a story.”
She turned more toward him, curiosity piqued. “Well now I need to hear it.”
“I can’t tell you everything, but I can give you the basics.” He explained about how Brody had met a woman named Trinity, and the danger that had followed, ending up with them in a gunfight in the middle of a cornfield the night Austen had closed the deal on the house.
By the time he finished the story, her eyes were wide. “Holy…cow,” she breathed.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was intense.”
No kidding. “And are they still together?”
He nodded. “She’s gone back to London now, but he’s crazy about her and wants to make a long distance relationship with her work, even though I know he wants her to move back here with him.” He shook his head once, almost in wonder. “I’ve never seen Brody react like that to a woman before.”
Austen smiled at the bewilderment in his tone. “Love makes people do crazy things.”
“I guess it does.”
She frowned. “What, you’ve never been in love before?”
“No,” he said, lowering his gaze to his plate as he resumed eating, making it clear the change in topic made him uncomfortable.
Really? She found that interesting because she knew he cared about her. From what Piper had said, him inviting her to dinner with his family was a big deal. He’d certainly worked his way into her heart over the past week. She hoped things kept progressing between them, but wasn’t going to push, and let it go for now.
After he had seconds, he insisted on cleaning up while she finished making dessert, making the Chantilly whipped cream and spooning it over top of the macerated berries set on top of sponge cakes. He refilled her wine glass and they headed back to the porch swing.
Austen set her empty plate onto the table in front of them and closed her eyes, breathing in the serenity of the moment. The fresh scent of cut grass and the sound of crickets singing drifted on the breeze. “It’s so peaceful back here.”
“Mmhmm,” he agreed around a mouthful of shortcake.
She opened her eyes to take in more of the view. “You said this place has been in your family for generations?”
“Yeah, but this is only what’s left of the original homestead. Used to be a lot bigger. My ancestors fought the Yankees in these very fields.” He indicated the pasture in front of them with a nod.
She made a disparaging sound. “Damn Yankees.”
He grinned. “Yeah. But I like some Yankees just fine.” His eyes were warm as he nudged her shoulder.
Her lips twitched. “That’s good to hear.”
She closed her eyes once more, then opened them and looked down when a shockingly loud snore sounded from the floor. Grits was stretched out on his side at their feet, paws twitching, tail thumping on the floor even in his sleep. “Wow, he’s loud.”
Wyatt grunted. “You have no idea,” he muttered, and swallowed his mouthful. “You should hear him at night. It’s like having a friggin’ chainsaw at the foot of my bed.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You let him sleep on your bed, huh?”
He hid a smile. “Only for a little while. He gets too hot and jumps down onto the floor. He’s like Velcro, I swear. I can’t even go to the bathroom alone.”
It was clear Wyatt loved the little guy. She adored that such a big, gruff man had so much softness inside him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “You going to keep him?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I can’t give him up now. Piper was betting on that, no doubt.”
He met her eyes. “Oh?”
She nodded. “About you. Said you needed a keeper.”
He snorted. “Sounds like something she’d say.”
Austen grinned. “I dunno, from what I’ve seen, I think you take pretty good care of yourself. But it’s nice to have someone to come over and make you homemade mac ’n cheese then sit out on the back porch with you, right?”
“Yeah. Real nice.” He reached one hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of her cheek, then lifted his arm in invitation.
She scooted closer, settling into his side as he curled his strong arm around her shoulders. With a long sigh she rested her head on his sturdy shoulder. It was so nice to relax out here with him, no talking, just enjoying each other’s presence.
Her stomach was full, the wine had relaxed her and Wyatt was warm and solid next to her. A languid arousal stole through her, like sun-warmed honey sliding through her veins.
She hadn’t known him long. Incredible as it seemed, she was already falling for him, and tonight was going to change things between them forever. She was more than ready to take that next step with him.
So when he cupped her jaw and turned her face toward his, it was the most natural thing in the world to lean into him and press her lips to his.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Wyatt held back a groan of raw need when Austen’s lips parted beneath his, inviting him to taste her.
He’d been biding his time throughout dinner and dessert, letting the arousal between them simmer, giving her a chance to change her mind if she had second thoughts about this. Given the way she all but melted against him, her tongue gliding sensually along his, she was totally on board with it.
Sinking his left hand into her hair, he slid his right hand between her shoulder blades to bring her closer. She tasted sweet, like the strawberries they’d just eaten, and she felt so damn good, firm yet soft in all the right places. He wanted all of her, to imprint himself on her so she’d feel him all day tomorrow.
Austen murmured in pleasure and linked her hands around the back of his neck, coming up on her knees to press her breasts to his chest. She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his chest and around to stroke his back. He was already rock hard in his jeans, the throb getting worse with each slick stroke of her tongue against his.
He let his hands wander, exploring the bare skin of her upper back revealed by the dress, down her ribs to the taut curve of her waist and back up to cup her breasts. They fit in his hands perfectly, the firm curves nestling into his palms.
With an approving sound she sucked at his tongue, gently, slowly, making him crazy to feel that mouth elsewhere. He wanted her hands on him, her luscious mouth teasing and tasting. He wanted to make her addicted to him.
The porch swing creaked as he looped an arm around her waist and hauled her up to straddle his lap. The skirt of her dress fell around her splayed thighs as his mouth found that sensitive spot at the side of her neck.
She gasped and arched, flattening her breasts to his chest, then rubbed her center against the length of his straining, confined cock. It felt so good that he shuddered, his hands locking around her hips, teeth raking over her pulse point. Damn, it had been so long for him, and he’d never felt this way before. He was so comfortable with her, he trusted her, and he cared about her. About her pleasure and protection. He wanted to make her his.
“Oh,” she whispered, one hand gripping the back of his head, the other holding his palm to her breast.
He wanted her naked, now. He wasn’t going to strip her out here in case someone decided to walk the back fields tonight. This was their first time and he wanted her as comfortable as possible. He didn’t want anyone to see her but him. She was his, and his possessive streak was off the charts with her.
Part of him was still stunned that Austen wanted him, but he wasn’t going to stop this. He couldn’t. Somehow, against all odds, she’d wormed her way into his heart, and he’d damn well be worthy of her, be the kind of man she’d be proud to have at her side.
“Come here,” he murmured against her ear, nipping the lobe lightly as he dragged her hips tighter to his. God dammit, the feel of her was driving him nuts. “Wrap your legs around me and hold on.”
She shifted up and slipped her legs around his waist, moaning when the friction rubbed his aching dick against the flesh between her thighs. The hand on the back of his head stayed put, her other creeping up to loop around his neck.
Holding her securely around the hips and waist, Wyatt pushed to his feet, pausing a moment to make sure he had his balance. Austen layered frantic kisses across his face, his jaw, teasing his mouth as he walked them to the door leading into the house.
Turning slightly, he shoved it open with one shoulder and carried her through to his bedroom, keeping pressure on her hips to ensure maximum friction along her center as he walked.
Then she locked her ankles behind him and did a swiveling motion with her hips that made him freeze and suck in a breath. It felt like every drop of blood in his body suddenly surged to his groin, and his bedroom suddenly seemed a mile away instead of mere yards.
The couch was way closer than his bed and it was deep enough to hold them both comfortably.
He snagged a blanket from the table behind it to protect her bare skin from sticking to the leather. He shook it out with one hand, then carefully sank to his knees in front of the couch, lowering her onto the center cushion. Immediately she let go of him and reached back to grasp the zipper at the back of her neck.
Wyatt caught her hands in his and brushed his mouth across hers. “Let me do it.” He’d fantasized about this for the past ten days, the chance to unwrap her like the best Christmas present in the world.
She gave a little hum of assent and went back to kissing him, her hands on either side of his face. It was damn hard to concentrate on what he was doing but he managed to find the zipper and draw it all the way down, pulling back to inspect what the dress revealed as he lowered the front of it over both firm shoulders and down her chest.
For a moment he could only stare, his heart thumping as the soft material fell away, exposing a white lace bra. Her light brown nipples peeked out at him, hard as they pressed against the lace.
Pushing the dress to her waist, he let his fingers trail reverently over the upper curves, delighting in the goose bumps that formed beneath his touch. Her breathing came faster now, her body still except for the way her breasts rose and fell with each excited breath.
Dying to put his mouth to her, he pulled the lace cups down and left the bra in place, the bunched-up material pushing the mounds higher. Her nipples beaded tighter, and he couldn’t wait a moment longer.
An instant before his tongue touched the first one, something licked his forearm. Jerking his head back, he blinked down at Grits, who had his front paws on the couch, tongue hanging out as he panted and wagged his tail.
Cock blocked by a twenty-pound lapdog, he thought in rueful dismay. Cavaliers were known as the love sponges of the dog world, but this was ridiculous.
Austen giggled. Suppressing his irritation, Wyatt snapped his fingers and pointed to the corner of the room. “Grits. Bed.”
The dog froze then lowered his head in submission.
“Bed,” he commanded, pointing again. “Now.”
Dropping his front paws to the floor, Grits slunk away to his bed in the corner and lay down, clearly not happy about it but obeying nonetheless.
“Stay,” Wyatt ordered. When he was sure the dog would obey, he turned back to Austen with an apologetic grin. “Sorry. Where was I?”
“Right here,” she murmured, her voice husky with arousal and need he was dying to satisfy as she drew his head back to her breast and arched her spine.
Wyatt couldn’t hold back a groan as he gripped her ribcage and licked at the taut nipple. Austen hissed in a breath and dug her fingers into his head
, pushing her breast harder into his mouth.
He laved the tender flesh a few times then gave into the need burning inside him and drew it into his mouth. Her soft whimper of pleasure made the ache between his legs worthwhile.
She squirmed beneath him, reached for his shoulders and began drawing up his shirt. Wyatt released her nipple long enough to peel the shirt over his head and toss it aside, pleasure racing through him when her hands began roaming over his bare chest and back.
Cupping her breasts in his hands he worked his way south, kissing and nipping at the smooth skin of her stomach, her abdomen. He reached the white lace panel on the front of her panties and pressed his mouth there, inhaling the heady scent of her arousal.
“God, Wyatt…”
He pulled her panties down, stilled for a moment and swallowed a ragged groan when he saw that she was completely bare between her legs. Oh, sweet Jesus.
Dropping her panties on the floor, he put a hand on the inside of either thigh and stroked his fingertips gently up and down the center of her mound. She whimpered at the delicate touch and raised her hips, and he couldn’t take any more.
Lowering his head, he pressed his mouth to those delicate folds, let his tongue sweep over them, up to graze the taut nub of her clit. Austen sucked in a breath and grabbed his head, her long legs wrapping around his shoulders.
Oh yeah, baby, get comfortable. He planned on doing this for a good long while.
His cock was so swollen it hurt as he licked and sucked at her softest flesh, quickly learning what pressure she liked. He gave her exactly what she asked for, following the cues of her whimpers and sighs, the pressure of her hands on the back of his head. Then he pushed his tongue into her and she cried out his name, her body arching like a drawn bow.
“Get inside me,” she panted, legs quivering.
Wyatt dug his wallet out of his jeans pocket and pulled out a condom before shucking his shoes, pants and underwear. He knew how fast gossip spread in this town so rather than hit the drugstore for protection this afternoon, he’d driven to the next town over to buy condoms.