by V. T. Do
“Wyatt, I’m wet.”
“Jesus.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
I moved without warning, pulling the sheets away from her body until she was bared to my gaze. I imagined she would have gloated, had she not been as turned on as I was. I didn’t say anything as I got on top of her, my cock jutting out and hitting the inside of her thigh. She let out a small moan when I grabbed myself and tapped the tip to her clit.
She squirmed underneath me.
“You’re playing with fire, baby.”
She smiled wide, all teeth and dimples. “Then we’ll burn together.”
I reached over and grabbed the condom from my nightstand, setting it on the pillow by her head. “First, I’m going to play with your body. And then, you’re going to beg me to take you.”
Her protest was cut off when I pushed two fingers inside of her. So wet and warm and tight. It was heaven.
I watched her face while I fucked her with my fingers, and when I curved my fingers up a little, she lost it with a shout.
I didn’t give her time to recover, as I moved down. I needed a taste of her. Spreading her legs to accommodate my wide shoulders, I buried my face between her legs. She almost jumped off of the bed, but the scarf held her in place as I sucked on her clit, loving how sensitive she was right there.
Then she did what I predicted. She begged. “Wyatt, please. I need you.”
“I know, baby. I got you.” And then I went back to eating her out, like the best damn meal in the world was set out in front of me. I wanted every last drop. I thrust my tongue inside of her, before adding my teeth, nipping and sucking on the slick flesh before me.
I brought my fingers back inside of her, and her legs twitched, already sensitive. I kept moving, curving them a little until I found her G-spot. When she pushed her hips up, I eased her back down with my palm, holding her still.
“Oh, God. Wyatt, I can’t. It’s too much. Please. God.”
Her moans hit my ears, and I doubled my efforts. “Come for me, Emery,” I said, moving quicker, my fingers slick from her arousal. I could smell her from where I sat, could still taste her on my tongue. My dick felt heavy, and I wanted nothing more than to fuck her into oblivion. But I wanted her to come again first.
She twisted her legs, the inner muscles of her pussy clenched around me. I pulled out and covered her mound with my mouth. She came on a loud cry. I looked up and watched her, loving the way she looked then, with her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips—probably from biting them—and her messy hair.
I sat up and waited until she came down from her high. Then I crawled on top of her body and kissed her. I bet she could taste herself on me. Did that turn her on? It sure as hell turned me on.
I grabbed the condom and covered myself. Then I sat up so I could watch as I entered her. She was ready for me. I could see her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs, and when I finally gave in to what we both wanted... there were no words.
She tried to move toward me, but couldn’t. She was at my mercy. I grabbed her hip and fucked her hard.
Her tits bounced with my movements, and the bed squeaked beneath her.
I moved my hand down to her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves there, and watched as she came all over me once again. Her orgasm triggered my own, and I soon followed. Unable to hold myself up any longer, I collapsed on top of her, loving the warmth she offered.
“Wyatt, you’re crushing me.”
I pulled back a little, taking some of my weight off her before looking down at her. She looked pretty satisfied with herself.
“Was that your plan?”
“You’re no longer worked up about my little adventures,” she said, smiling.
“Baby, I don’t think I can move.”
“Okay, well, if you don’t mind, I’ll just go to sleep.” I moved my hands down to her sides, tickling her. “Oh, no, no, no. Wyatt, stop, or I swear I’ll kill you.”
“I didn’t know you were ticklish.”
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned.
I grinned like a Cheshire cat. And then I tickled her, loving the sound of her giggles as she moved underneath me. It was the best sound in the world.
After, I untied her, but before she could move away, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into the cocoon of my body. She buried her face in my chest, and I felt her breath against my skin.
“Wyatt?”
“Yeah?”
“I like you.”
I smiled. “I like you too.”
“Do you want to hear about the rest of my day?”
“Of course. But please tell me you didn’t have any more adventures.”
I felt her smile. “No, none of that.”
And she told me about her day. From this strict professor in one of her classes, to this big assignment she had due next week, to what she’d had for lunch. I listened to it all, loving every moment, every word. I didn’t want to miss out on a single thing.
My outlook for our future was optimistic. I knew there were things we needed to talk about. Secrets that were weighing down on me every day, and the world of hurt she would experience once I told her. But I would help her get through it. I would be there for her. And we would have our whole future to look forward to.
A whole world of adventures for us to experience together. And if I was lucky enough, our adventures would be tame compared to what she’d done before.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Wyatt’s Secrets
Emery
I didn’t think there was anything worse than fighting with the people you love. I wasn’t one of those people who thrived on drama. In fact, I lived my life trying to avoiding it.
But I was mad.
There were just some things you didn’t do, and one of those things was to never, ever set your niece up with your friend’s son, especially if he turned out to be an asshole.
I spent all night at Wyatt’s and a good part of the next day. I was avoiding going home, because I knew if I went home before I got my emotions under control, I might say something to Aunt Helen that I would later regret.
But now, driving up to my house, the anger came back. She knew about Wyatt. She couldn’t have missed the fact that I hadn’t slept in my room much in the past two weeks. Which made me think she invited Ethan over on purpose, and for the life of me, I couldn’t think of a good enough reason why. Except that she didn’t like Wyatt. But that couldn’t be right, when she’d never even met Wyatt.
The house was quiet when I walked in, the only sound coming from the staff as they busied themselves with keeping the house in immaculate shape.
But I knew she was home. If there was one thing my Aunt Helen was, it was predictable. I made my way upstairs, and I stood outside her door, yet when I raised my hand to knock, I hesitated.
What would I say? How would I go about telling her how messed up it was that she had allowed Ethan to ambush me in my own house? With a sigh, I turned and walked to my room instead.
And I stayed there until dinnertime, working on my school work, because there wasn’t anything else I could do.
My phone chimed with a text at seven o’clock sharp to announce that dinner was ready.
I put the book I was reading down, taking my time in front of the mirror as I brushed my long hair. I didn’t want to go to dinner with my heart on my sleeve, so to speak, and it was easier to hide how you were feeling when you were presented nicely—at least, that was what I believed.
I had been trained my whole life to hide my emotions. Hide them behind the flawless makeup, the outfits that cost about as much as the average person’s monthly wage, and the jewelry befitting a princess. And I had done well.
People said there was no such thing as bad press, but what held true for me was I didn’t have any bad press. Emery Caldwell, as far as the world knew, was a model citizen, heir to one of the biggest empires in the corporate world. And she’d sold it off to the highest bidder. I’d faced
powerful men before, and had stood tall and proud.
Yet at the thought of having dinner with my aunt that night, my hands shook, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out if it was from nerves or anger.
I walked down the stairs and into the large dining room, where the monstrous table was placed right in the middle.
Some nights, it felt like we made too big of a production out of dinner, sitting around a dining room table that seated sixteen, when only two were in attendance.
Aunt Helen was where she was always seated, and I took the chair across from her. Dinner was already laid out on the table, and she waited for me to settle in before scooping mashed potatoes onto her plate. I did the same with the chicken.
Dinner passed by in tense silence for fifteen minutes. The only sounds were the scrapping of our forks against the ceramic plates. When we’d finally finished, Aunt Helen went into the kitchen and brought out two plates of cheesecake. She placed one in front of me.
“Thanks,” I said. She nodded.
Dessert was pretty much the same, with little to add to the nonexistent conversation. It wasn’t until Aunt Helen had finished with her plate and stood up from her chair that I spoke.
“Why?” I wanted to cringe at the way I’d blurted it out.
She gave me a questioning look before taking her seat again. “What was that?”
“Why did you invite Ethan here when you knew I wasn’t interested in him?”
“I was hoping you would keep your options open.”
I frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“Do you really think Mr. James is a good match for you? How well do you know him?”
“Obviously I don’t know him as well as you. Do you want to tell me how you know him? When did you meet Wyatt?”
Aunt Helen looked away. “I have never met him, actually. I’ve only heard of him.”
“From Grandpa,” I said. I told Wyatt I didn’t want to know why he met with my grandpa in the first place. I was starting to think now perhaps I should know. There was bad blood between them. I knew that much. But it couldn’t be too bad if Wyatt was with me. And my grandpa never mentioned Wyatt.
“Will you tell me?” I asked when she didn’t say anything.
“There really is nothing to tell.”
“Well, if there isn’t, then why are you trying so hard to set me up on a date with another man?”
She took a sip of water from her glass. “I think you owe that man a date. After all, you did cancel on him at the last minute.”
“Owe him? I don’t owe anybody anything. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Sit down, Emery. I didn’t mean to imply that you have to go out on a date with him.” I hadn’t realized I was standing, but now that I was, I didn’t want to sit down. That was exactly what she had meant.
“Didn’t you? I don’t have to go out with him just because you wish it.”
“When I was your age, I went out with your great-uncle because my father wished it.”
I took a deep breath, trying to put myself in her shoes. She was only saying that because that was the way she was raised. Was it a valid excuse? I didn’t think so. But I was too mad to reason it through.
“I’m not you, and you’re not my mom. You can’t tell me what to do. I hope we can live together and get along, but it isn’t going to work if you continue like this.”
Something like pain flashed in her eyes. But it was gone so quickly, I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it or not. “You haven’t really lived in this house for the past two weeks, now have you?”
“Is this what this is about? You want me to be home more often?”
“I cannot tell you what to do. I know that. It is as you said. Your grandpa was your guardian. He was the one who raised you.”
“I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful,” I said, my shoulders sagging a little. “But you need to know that I can make my own decisions. If I need something from you, I’ll ask. But I have a really good handle on things.”
I sat down and waited patiently for her to reply. She nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Can I introduce you to my boyfriend? He’s important to me, and I would love it if you two could get along. You’ll love him.”
She shook her head then stood up. “I don’t think I will. And I don’t think I want to meet him. I know I can’t tell you what to do, but for your sake, I hope you’ll listen to me. Wyatt James is bad news. He’ll only break your heart.”
I leaned back against the chair and looked up at her. I should have remained standing, because now it felt like I was in a position of inferiority. “Why do you say that? What do you know about him that I don’t?”
“I know his meetings with your grandpa were to blackmail him.”
“What? Blackmail him? Why?”
“You tell me. Now is that the kind of man you want to be with?”
“What did he have on grandpa?”
If I hadn’t been watching her so closely, I would have missed the way her shoulders tensed at my question. Whatever Wyatt had used to blackmail my grandpa with, it was important enough that she didn’t want me to know. And I wondered if she had been involved in it as well.
“That doesn’t matter anymore.”
I stood. “I think it does, otherwise you wouldn’t be trying so hard to keep it from me.”
“Whatever devil’s bargain your grandpa made with Wyatt is done. There is nothing more I can say. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to bed.”
She walked out without another word, and I didn’t stop her, still trying to understand everything. Wyatt blackmailed my grandpa for something he obviously needed. But it was something Wyatt had never mentioned before. Would he tell me?
The thing was, I really didn’t know the answer to that question. And what did that say about our relationship?
***
The week went by without another incident. Though I couldn’t say my relationship with my aunt hadn’t changed.
There had always been a comfortable companionship between us, those silent affections that we knew were always there. Yet after dinner that night, things changed. We still went about our normal day-to-day routine, but it was the way she looked at me whenever I walked out the front door with plans to spend the night with Wyatt, the way our dinners had become almost strained, added to the fact that I hadn’t been to the library since that last night we’d read together, that told me how much our relationship had changed.
And I didn’t know how to fix it.
I didn’t know if I was still mad at her. I had hoped for an apology from her for interfering in my life. I got none. The worst part about the whole thing was how it changed the way I saw Wyatt.
I never told him about what my aunt had said, but I was haunted by the thought of what Wyatt could have had on my grandpa. Enough that my grandpa had actually acquiesced to the blackmail. It changed the image I had of the two men who were most important in my life. And one of them was gone. I couldn’t ask my grandpa about it, and I was afraid to ask Wyatt.
So I lay in his arms at night, marveling about the way he’d made love to me, as if he couldn’t get enough. I told myself the tenderness in his eyes couldn’t be faked, that he really did care for me.
When Joey met up with me at my house on Sunday, I told her everything. We were in my room, and Joey had taken up one corner of my bed. I was on the opposite end, clutching one of my pillows.
I had expected her to tell me to keep my guard up around Wyatt, to tell me that perhaps I had rushed into this. But what I got was the exact opposite.
“Maybe you should give him time. I’m sure he’ll tell you eventually.”
I looked at her, my lips pinched together in a tight line. “You’re supposed to be the cynical one.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s me. But I’m no more cynical than you. And I’m telling you, I don’t think Wyatt would ever do anything to intentionally hurt you.”
“The fact that he’s keeping sec
rets from me is hurting me. And those secrets revolve around my grandpa. How can I just go on pretending that it’s nothing?”
“Maybe he will tell you. Someday, when he thinks your relationship is strong enough. Maybe...”
I turned to her sharply. “What?”
“Don’t be mad, Emery, okay? You know I love your grandpa. You know I owe him everything. But just because he was great to us doesn’t mean he was a saint. Do you think it’s possible that Wyatt isn’t the one who was in the wrong? That maybe he’s keeping secrets to protect you?”
I stood up, moving away from her. Anger sharpened my tongue. “How could you say that? After all he did for you? He was a good man.”
She stood up too. I hated how she was looking at me. As if I was some sort of distressed animal that might attack at any moment. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”
“Then why would you even say that?”
“Just because he was good to us doesn’t mean he was perfect. You’ve always put him on such a high pedestal that you refuse to see him through anything but rose-colored glasses. What if he wasn’t as perfect as you think?”
I turned away, refusing to answer her question. “He saved you, you know.”
“I know that.”
“He loved you like his own, for no other reason than because I loved you. He didn’t question it. How could you say that about him?”
“Don’t you see? He had the eyes of a guilty man.”
“What?”
“I heard him and your aunt talking. This house is big, but I heard them whispering to each other enough times to know there was something they didn’t want you to know. At least, your grandpa didn’t want you to know. We were ten the first time I heard them arguing. And then everything would go back to normal, but things escalated when we found out your father overdosed. Remember?”
I nodded, unable to say anything to that. My father died when I was fifteen. Things around the house were tense for a few weeks after his funeral service, but that was because there had been a death in the family. At least, I had thought that was why.
“I’m not saying we condemn Joseph based on a few arguments between him and your aunt. I am saying that automatically thinking of Wyatt as the bad guy here isn’t fair either. He deserves the chance to tell you what he knows. And you should give him time to sort that out.”
