I don’t even wait a second to answer. “Nothing. It’s going to be good for it.”
“Really? Are most friendships improved with jumping into bed together?” His lips are forming into a coy, little smile. I realize that he’s joking. Making fun of me. Teasing me, even.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head. He’s back to the cocky, arrogant guy I first laid my eyes on. “The ball’s in your court.”
Fuck! I don’t want the ball. I want him to push me down and have his way with me. I want to just be taken over by feelings and pleasure without any of the responsibility of owning my feelings or decisions. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
“What are you going to do, Brielle?” Wyatt mocks me. “Are you going to ask me to stay a little longer? Or are you going to play by the rules?”
He’s joking and making fun, but I know that his heart will be broken if I say I want to play by the rules. Stupid rules of friendship. Why did I put that in place anyway?
“And what if I asked you to leave?” I ask licking my lips. He stares at them as if he can’t look away.
“Then I’ll leave,” he says quietly.
“You promise?” I ask.
He cracks a smile. Who’s going to give in first? I don’t really care as long as it’s someone.
“Please ask me to come in,” he finally whispers.
I can’t believe it! I’ve actually got him to do it!
“You’re such a pushover,” I laugh.
“No, not at all,” he wraps his arms around me. “I just want you a lot.”
Wyatt’s lips are soft and irresistible. He holds me tight against his hard body, and we float over to the bed. I don’t even know how it’s possible, but it feels like floating even though he’s still completely in a cast.
His hands travel over my body, and I moan softly. There are no more rules to be break – all of them have already been broken. No, all of them are about to be broken. And that’s okay.
He strokes and kneads my thighs and they open up for him as if they were petals of a flower at sunrise. I get flushed with lust.
His hands pull my tank top over my head and allow my breasts to fall out. Wyatt grabs one with his hand and puts the other into his mouth. It feels like an electric current is running through me, making it impossible to concentrate on anything but this moment. Suddenly, the current focuses itself on the lower part of my body.
Wyatt’s tongue starts to move his way down my body in endless circles. He sends me into a spiral of pleasure. I groan and buckle against him. I move my hands down his rock hard body and discover that he’s already naked. No jeans. No underwear. I’m not sure how or when he had taken them off, but I’m happy to find his hard cock straining for me.
I grip his cock and start to pump it slowly. Wyatt’s hands make their way inside of me and push me to the brink of the unknown. I wrap my legs around his body and push his cock inside of me.
It doesn’t take either of us very long. A shuddering swell of sensation rises from somewhere deep within me. Wyatt starts to groan and I gasp. I throw my head back and a strong orgasm washes over me, rippling throughout my body and reaching its furthest extremes. With one last moan, Wyatt collapses on top of me.
The rest of the night passes in a blur. We stay up late eating junk food and laughing about every idiotic thing imaginable. He tells me stories of his brothers and how much they had as little kids, and I tell him funny stories of my own sister. I thought that having sex would change something for the worse. That’s why I didn’t want to do it originally. I thought it would make things odd and awkward, but instead I discovered that it only made things better.
“You know, I don’t get you,” I say. Wyatt is lying with his head on my pelvis, and we’re both staring at the ceiling.
“What don’t you get?”
“Well, with other guys, my other boyfriends, they just rolled over and fell asleep almost immediately after.”
“Agh, Brielle,” he waves his hand in disgust. “I don’t want to hear about other guys right now. Not after that.”
“That was good. There’s no denying that.”
“Okay? So?”
“I was just trying to give you a compliment. All I wanted to say was that you’re not like all of them.”
“How’s that?” Wyatt turns to me and props up his head with his hand.
“Well, we just had awesome sex, right?”
“Right.”
“Awesome, mind-blowing sex?”
“Yes, I agree,” he smiles.
“And you still want to talk to me afterward?”
“Who the hell have you been sleeping with that they didn’t want to talk to you afterward?” he jokes. “Geez! And I thought I had bad taste in the opposite sex.”
“No, no, no,” I laugh. I love the easiness of our relationship. It’s so easy to joke and laugh with him. It’s almost as if it’s unreal. “It’s not that they don’t want to talk to me afterward…it’s just different after sex. It’s like the chase is over, and now they just want to relax.”
“Well, I’m not like that,” he kisses me.
“Yes, I can see that,” I kiss him back.
“Besides, those guys are idiots.”
“How so?”
“The chase is never over,” he says confidently with his head tilted back. “What they don’t take into account is that it doesn’t just have to be a one time thing. One night does not mean one time.”
I look at him. His face is very serious and stern. Then with a little crack of the lips, a small smile starts to form, and I laugh out loud.
“Oh I see. So you’re taking the long view of things, are you?”
He comes close to me again. His kisses me on my upper lip then my lower lip. Then he starts to kiss down my neck.
“The long view is all there is,” he whispers. “And the night’s still young.”
He pushes me back down on the bed with one arm and pulls up my nightie.
“No panties, huh?” he kisses my belly button.
“You’re going to regret it.” Wyatt’s kisses go further and further down. At first, I try to resist, but eventually I tilt my head back and open my thighs.
“I kinda doubt that,” I whisper and let a waterfall of pleasure cover me from head to toe.
Chapter 15 - Wyatt
Brielle is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. I don’t know who those idiots were that fell asleep immediately after having sex with her, but all I want to do is stay up and worship her all night. I can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to be with her. It is almost five o’clock when we finally fall asleep in each other’s arms after a long night of lovemaking. I thought I was in shape, but my whole body is sore all over. Not just my cock.
The following morning, I wake up and notice that it’s almost noon. Brielle is nowhere to be found, but comes back after I get dressed.
“I made you some breakfast,” she says carrying a tray with waffles, pancakes, and fresh fruit. “I would’ve loved to go out and gotten some bagels and some store bought coffee, but this will have to do.”
I wobble to her and kiss her on the mouth. My cock has a mind of his own and quickly gets other ideas.
“Okay, okay,” she quiets me down. “Let’s at least have breakfast first.”
I sit down on the bed next to her. Man, am I hungry. I grab the top waffle and shove it in my mouth.
“Last night was amazing,” I say. “I had an awesome time.”
“Me too,” she says with a wide smile. She is freshly showered and smells of lavender and honey. Her hair glistens in the sunlight.
“What do you want to do today?” she asks.
“You mean besides spend the whole day with you in bed?”
“Yes, besides that,” she chuckles.
“I want to go outside. See the horses. Say hi to Sebastian,” I say without a moment’s hesitation.
The expression on her face changes immediately.
; “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, don’t worry. I’m not going to ride him.”
“I hope not,” she says. But the gravity does not vanish from her face.
I put my arm around her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You just scared me,” she says.
I don’t understand. Then it hits me. “Just by mentioning the horses?”
She nods.
“It’s going to be okay. It was just an accident. Sebastian’s a good horse. He’s sweet, you’ll see. And the others. Well, they haven’t done anything at all.”
Brielle shakes her head. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know. And it won’t,” I kiss her on the top of her head.
“You promise?” she looks up at me with those big wide brown eyes. They are impossible to say no to.
“Yes, I promise,” I say.
Chapter 16 - Wyatt
Brielle and I got ready to go out and see the horses. After interrupting her in her process of getting dressed and pulling her back into bed, we finally got it together enough to exit the bedroom.
“Mr. Wild?” Mr. Whitewater says standing right outside the door.
“Oh, my God, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Brielle jumps back into me.
“I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Mr. Whitewater apologizes. “But there’s a woman downstairs that’s asking for you. Are you expecting anyone, Mr. Wild?”
I shrug, shake my head. “Brielle?”
She shakes her head no.
Mr. Whitewater explains. “The woman downstairs is claiming to be your mother.”
“Mom? Mom?” Brielle rushes past him and runs down the stairs. “Mom?”
From the top of the stairs, I see a woman dressed in a blue suit and a matching wide-rimmed hat standing in the foyer.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” Brielle asks. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, of course!” Brielle’s mom hugs her. She then gives her a peck on each cheek, careful not to smudge her makeup.
“Wyatt, this is my mom,” Brielle says without actually giving me a name. “Mom, this is Wyatt.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Cole,” I shake her hand. Her hand is warm and firm, and her whole way of occupying the room reminds me of one of my favorite aunts.
“Oh, please, call me Danielle.”
“Danielle,” I repeat the name to burn it into my memory. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Brielle, why didn’t you tell me that your mother looks like she could be your sister?”
Both Brielle and Danielle blush. Women always do when I say something like that to them. The only difference in this statement is that I actually mean it. Danielle looks so young and full of life that an unsuspecting stranger could actually confuse her for Brielle’s sister.
“What a beautiful home you have here Wyatt,” Danielle walks around the foyer. She carries herself with a familiar strength and confidence that reminds me of my mother and sister, but the likes of which I’ve rarely seen in strangers entering the house.
“This vase, it’s absolutely marvelous!” Danielle points to one of my mother’s favorite vases standing tall on a side table. Its history stems back all of the way to the seventeenth century.
“You’ve got an excellent eye, Danielle,” I say. “It used to belong to my great great great grandmother who came from Virginia.”
Suddenly, I notice the strange expression on Brielle’s face.
“Mom? What are you talking about?” she whispers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. Danielle walks to the other side of the room were I doubt she can hear us.
“I don’t know who this woman is,” Brielle whispers to me.
“What are you talking about? Isn’t this your mom?”
“Yes, of course! But it’s also not her. I don’t know. I don’t know why she’s dressed like that. Or how she knows about 17th century vases.”
“I know about 17th century vases because I watch a healthy amount of Antiques Roadshow,” Danielle says. She either has excellent hearing or must not have been far enough away to be out of our earshot. Brielle blushes.
“Mom? Can I talk to you, in private?” Brielle asks.
“No, Brielle. That would be rude,” Danielle waves her hand in a casual manner that I’ve often seen my mother and her rich girlfriends do to their servants.
I feel the tension between them building, at least on Brielle’s side, and step in to broker peace.
“Ms. Cole, I mean, Danielle, would you like to join us for lunch? My sister’s visiting us as well, and I know she’d love to meet you.”
Danielle quickly agrees, and I excuse myself to make arrangements.
An hour later, we all sit down for lunch – Brielle, Danielle, O, and I. This was not the way that I’d planned the day to go. The last thing I want to do is spend more time with O, who still hasn’t apologized for her rude behavior. And who, I am yet to forgive. But the presence of Brielle’s mother at lunch is quite interesting. I’ve never met this woman, whose life I saved, or rather my money has saved, and a big part of me is eager to get to know her more.
Danielle makes herself comfortable at the head of the table and talks almost non-stop about how well she’s doing and about her new husband.
“Luke and I have been practically living together for these last two months,” she says with an exuberant flair that reminds me of O.
“Luke?” Brielle asks.
“Yes, Luke. Remember, I told you about him?”
“Yes, you told me that you were seeing a guy named Luke, but you haven’t really mentioned him for a month.”
Brielle is steaming. Anger is bubbling up from some dark place within her.
“Tell me more about Luke, Danielle. What’s he like?” O pipes in. She can’t help herself, can she? What I can’t figure out is why is she doing this? Is she doing this because she hates Brielle? Or just for fun? And what reason can she possibly have to hate Brielle?
“Oh, my darling, Ophelia. Luke is fabulous! He’s Swiss, and he lives in France. He’s got plenty of money, and he wants me to move to France with him as soon as possible after the wedding.”
“What are you talking about, Mom?” Brielle’s face grows pale. “You’d just met him! And now you’re moving to France?”
“Brielle, I know that this seems sudden. But Luke and I are in love. I know that I might seem a bit different to you—“
“A bit different?” Brielle gasps. “It’s like you morphed into some rich, stuck up princess overnight.”
“Now, there’s no need to be rude.”
“Yes, yes, there is, mother,” Brielle says. She uses the word mother in a derogatory way, the way preteen girls on television usually say it. “It’s like you’ve lost your mind or something!”
Danielle shakes her head and looks away.
“So how did you meet your Luke?” O asks. At this moment, I’m thankful that O is here with us. The tension between Brielle and her mom is growing, and I’m not pretty certain that it will result in an explosion. The only thing I’m not sure about is whether I can stop it.
“Online. We met up in downtown LA and have been inseparable since.”
Brielle shakes her head. She’s about to say something, but I put my hand down on her knee to stop her.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s going to be okay.”
Somehow, we make it through the rest of lunch. I manage to calm Brielle down and give space for O to connect with Danielle. By the end of lunch, they seem inseparable. They are laughing at each other’s corny jokes. I’ve never seen O act this way with anyone else except for her close friends and never our own mother. It’s as if Danielle is the mother that O never had.
“I don’t know who that person is in there,” Brielle says to me when we are finally alone in my bedroom. O is showing Danielle around the gardens, and I sneak away with Brielle. It gives her some breathing room.
“What are yo
u talking about?”
“That woman is not my mother,” Brielle says, sitting down on the bed. She buries her hands in her hair. I try to rub the back of her neck, but she pushes me away.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say. “She seems perfectly lovely.”
“You don’t fuckin’ get it, do you, Wyatt? She’s not my mother. She looks like her and sounds like her, but it’s not her.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know what this Luke wants, but he wants something.”
“What could he want?”
“Something. Why else would he be with her?”
That hurts my feelings. She doesn’t even know what she’s saying, but her words cut deep.
“I don’t want anything. And I’m with you.” I say and turn away from her.
“That’s not what I meant,” she whispers. She approaches me, wraps her hands around my shoulders, but this time it is me who brushes her away.
“You think that I want something from you?” I ask. Looking far into the horizon, I see Danielle and O laughing by the rose bushes.
“No, that’s not what I meant. But then again…”
She lets her words trail off. I wait for her to explain. Finally, she does.
“But then again, I am here because you requested my presence here.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“No, not anymore. But I did originally come here to pay off a debt.”
“Fuck you, Brielle. Everything I did for you and your mom was because I wanted to. I asked you to come. I asked you. I didn’t demand you to. You could’ve came or not. And you can leave at any time.”
I turn around to walk toward the door. She catches up with me.
“Wyatt, please. I’m sorry.”
But I’m not in the mood to forgive.
“You can go anytime,” I say and head for the door. Before I get there, she stops me. She forces me to turn around. I didn’t know that she was so strong. She pushes herself up to my lips and presses hers onto mine.
Something takes over me. I’m mad at her; I don’t want to kiss her. But I do. My cock grows large as she rubs it, and she unbuckles my jeans and lets them fall to the floor. We kiss as if the world is going to end in a minute and rip our clothes off, with the same ferocity.
Auctioned to Him Book 8 Page 26
