With a Twist

by Sawyer Bennett

  Delicate hands touch me on my lower back, and I turn around to see Andrea there with her lips curved upward appreciatively. I note the other girls have left the dance floor.

  Stepping in closer, her arms wrap around me and she tilts her head up. Her hips are swaying softly to the music, and while I don't dance, I sure as hell don't have a problem encircling her in my arms so she can sway against me.

  "That was kind of hot," she says with a grin.

  "Yeah? I was a little worried you would take offense to me stepping in," I tease her.

  She tilts her head and purses her lips as if in contemplation. "No. I definitely think I liked you protecting my virtue."

  Leaning down, I scrape my cheek along hers, which puts my lips near her ear. "I'm not going to protect your virtue tonight when we get back to my house."

  Her laugh echoes like music to me. "I'm also okay with that."

  This is different.

  So very different.

  I'm making love to Andrea slowly.

  Tenderly.

  Sleepily.

  From behind, as we lay on our sides.

  After we had come home last night, fueled on by her residual buzz, some sexy dancing on her part and a vague awareness that one more day was gone and our time was getting shorter, we went at it like horny animals.

  Clothes were torn off, skin was bitten, and I'm pretty sure the neighbors heard us.

  We collapsed onto my bed, sweaty and exhausted, and fell into a deep sleep with her face in my chest and my arms around her tight.

  At some point in the night, she must have turned over and we assumed the classic spooning position.

  At some point after that, I woke up and decided to take advantage of said spooning position. How could I not with a warm, soft body pressed intimately against me?

  And now I have one of her legs bent with my palm at the back of her thigh and my breath hot on her neck. I move in and out of her from behind, the only noise in the room the sound of our sliding flesh and panting.

  Angling my upper body down a tad, I hook her leg within the crook of my elbow, pulling it up higher to give me better access.

  Fucking perfect.

  I slam hard into her.

  She lets out a tiny ooph followed by a moan as I do it again.

  I get a deeper moan as I do it again.

  "You okay?" I breathe in her ear.

  "Yes."

  "Feels good, doesn't it?"

  "Mmmm. Hmmm."

  I flex my hips hard, go extra deep, and then grind myself against her ass. "Andrea?"

  "Hmmm?" she vaguely answers, and I can tell she's on the precipice... getting ready to fall over. Just one more push... maybe two, and we'll both go together.

  "Ever felt this good before?" I ask with my lips against her shoulder.

  I pull out... thrust hard and deep again. "God, no," she groans as she starts to spasm around my cock.

  The tortured pleasure in her voice is my undoing.

  "Me either, baby," I grit out as I slam into her one last time and let loose inside her body.

  I seem to fucking come inside of her forever. Burying my face into the back of the neck, I let go of my hold on her leg and wrap my arms around her waist. Then I just close my eyes and concentrate on the spasms coursing through me, giving tiny, shallow thrusts inside of her body.

  Letting her milk me dry.

  Fuck, that's good.

  So fucking good.

  Her body is pressed up nicely against mine, and I can tell when it settles down... finishes trembling from her own orgasm. I float down with her as her fingers stroke along the skin of my forearm.

  After a minute or so, I start to get drowsy, and I can feel Andrea's breathing getting deeper. We're on the verge of slipping back under.

  "Wyatt?" whispers to me in the darkness.

  "Yeah?"

  "That was different, right?"

  She's not talking about the sexual position we were in. She's talking about the way that just felt.

  "Yeah... that was different," I confirm as I squeeze her with my arms.

  She gives a tiny chuckle. "I have no clue what has gotten into you tonight, but I like it."

  Grinning from behind her, I press my lips to the back of her head. "I think it was the way you were dancing... so damn sexy. Reminded me of watching you up on that stage at The Platinum Club... having a perpetual hard-on for you."

  Andrea immediately flips in my arms, and I can tell she's nowhere close to being ready to go back to sleep now.

  "You did not have a perpetual hard-on around me," she accuses, pushing at my chest playfully.

  "Yeah, I fucking did," I assure her. "And you wouldn't know because when you danced, you always had that far away, dreamy look on your face. I came to understand that look... you'd checked out... your mind a million miles away. I was able to always adjust myself without you even noticing."

  I can't see her face, but I can actually feel her smile. "You're very observant. And clearly, I'm not."

  "All I know is that whenever you got up on that stage and your clothes came off... and I got to look at that amazing body of yours, all sleek and soft... completely bare... I wanted to do nothing more than to drag you off and jam my face between your legs."

  Andrea purrs low in her throat over my proclamation. "Well... if we're being truthful... the only person I wanted to affect with my dancing was you. You just seemed... so far removed. Totally into your character, which wasn't really all that interested in the girls there."

  "I was totally playacting," I tell her. "And speaking of affecting with your dancing, I never asked... but where in the fuck did you learn to dance like that? Does the FBI have a course on it or something?"

  Andrea giggles... the best sound ever. "Actually... I have some personal experience with it."

  I go absolutely still... process what she just said, and then flip to my back so I can reach over to turn on the beside lamp. Turning back to her, I lean over and take in the shy smile on her face.

  "You danced... stripped... before?"

  She nods. "College and law school. It was the only way I could afford it."

  I study her face. No embarrassment... no battered ego. In fact, she stares at me with clear eyes and waits for me to make comment.

  "I don't know how I feel about that," I tell her truthfully. "I hate you had to do that, but I also admire you for doing whatever it took to accomplish your goals."

  "I don't regret it," she says. "It's part of my past and while I was never comfortable with it, it really helped to build me into what I am today."

  "Strength," I say as I bend down to kiss her softly on the lips.

  "Determination," I say as I kiss her jaw.

  "Fearlessness," I murmur, grazing my lips along her neck.

  "You're fucking amazing," I tell her as I pull back.

  She blinks repeatedly, and then her brows furrow inward. Her bottom lip is pulled in between her teeth, and I know something is pressing on her mind.

  I wait for it.

  "It's weird... I've been here with you less than three days, and you see those things about me, and yet... if I had to ask what I think some of my most important characteristics are... that's what I'd say about myself."

  I give a nod of understanding, flip back over to turn out the light, and then gather her in my arms. When she's got her head to my chest and our legs are intertwined, my hand rubbing her lower back, I tell her, "I've had more than three days with you, Andrea. I knew you were all three of those things the minute you took on that undercover job. It was validated when you stepped onto that stage, and completely hoodwinked a suspected slave trader. If it weren't for you... none of that would have gone down the way it did. Like I said... you're pretty fucking amazing."

  She doesn't say anything, but I can feel her body relax into mine. Her own fingers play across the skin on my stomach.

  I start to get drowsy, but then she says my name softly.

  "Wyatt?"

  "Y
eah?"

  "I think you're pretty fucking amazing too."

  Chapter 20

  Andrea

  I wake up before Wyatt again and so the pattern has been set. I'm a morning person, whereas he is definitely not. I think about my attempt at naked pancakes and quickly put that thought right back out of my head. We had gone out to the grocery store yesterday and stocked up with a variety of staples. I'm thinking it's going to be naked bagels instead, but I'll wait a bit before I wake him up. I'm sure he's pretty worn out after our impromptu bout of sex we had followed by some pretty awesome pillow talk.

  I loved his reaction about me dancing. I loved how it pained him that I had to stoop to that, but I was also grateful for how he admired me. It's sort of how I view myself, and while a lot of people could never understand baring your body for money, I guess the only one I really need to answer to is myself. I've never had a problem looking at myself in the mirror since that time in my past, and knowing that Wyatt still respects me is just icing on the cake.

  Rolling out of bed, I quietly slip on my underwear, a pair of shorts, and a t-shirt. Grabbing my phone off the dresser, I head out to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee. After it's brewed, I pour a cup, doctor it up with an obscene amount of cream and sugar--Wyatt's characterization, not mine--and head out to the back deck.

  As always, the beauty of the Atlantic always catches me by surprise. I'd never been to the beach growing up, and got my first look at the Atlantic while in undergrad when a bunch of friends and me road tripped to Virginia Beach one weekend. I've since seen the Pacific while on an assignment with the FBI, and the Gulf of Mexico, but for some reason... the Atlantic is what calls to me. I'm not sure if it's the blue-green waters, the low-breaking waves that make the best sound to sleep to, or the way the sun slowly emerges from the horizon each morning. I just know it resonates with me, and I eagerly make my way down the steps of Wyatt's back deck down to the cool sand below.

  The sun's edge hasn't even made appearance yet, and the sky is tinged gray. I walk a few feet away from the steps and sink slowly down into the soft sand so as not to spill my coffee, only to have a small shell poke me in the butt. After wedging my mug into the sand, I lean over, remove the offender, and sink back down, burying my toes in the coolness that the evening has brought to the sand. I know by midday, it will be blistering hot.

  While I wait on the sunrise to make its appearance, I turn on my phone. I need to call Kyle and check in with him, but it's far too early in Wyoming and he'd never answer. I had successfully avoided my phone all day yesterday and hadn't even brought it out with us to Hunter's bar last night.

  But it's a new day... I've got my coffee, a gorgeous guy sleeping just up those stairs to my back, the promise of another spectacular sunrise... and yet, for some idiotic reason, I'm dying of curiosity to see if David has reached out through Facebook since I accepted his friend request.

  My curiosity is completely upstanding. I don't have any desire to get back with him, and I certainly don't want to reconnect. But it's killing me not knowing why he is reaching out, especially when he drew a very deep line in the proverbial sand with me. It stunned me then and continues to flummox me now how he could have thrown away everything we had on almost a whim. I want to know if I did something wrong... did I miss something? Was I not attentive enough to him, was I not that great in the sack, or maybe he really just didn't love me the way I thought he did?

  I have to know. He never gave me an opportunity to talk about his reasoning and if there is something that could have saved that relationship, it's imperative I know it. I have to know, because if it's truly my fault... I don't want to make that mistake again.

  I'm not sure if it's because of this amazing connection with Wyatt, but I need to know that I have my priorities straight when it comes to balancing me, my career, and my personal life together. This is especially important to know because Wyatt and I are starting something here... something amazing, I can tell, but we are already facing the monumental hurdle of physical distance between us. This was clearly a point of contention with David, something he had no amount of compromise for, and the thought occurs to me... maybe I was the one that was unreasonable.

  Again, I don't want to know these answers to fix my issues with David. I'm confident that that ship has sailed right out of my heart. I know this to be true because after that amazing connection we had last night while making love, it's brutally clear that my feelings for Wyatt are immensely stronger and deeper than what I had for David.

  And I don't mean that I love him... because how could I? We haven't spent that much time together. But what I mean is that everything between us, broken down into component parts, is almost electrifying.

  The way he kisses.

  His touch.

  His voice.

  The way in which he listens to me.

  Everything seems amplified... almost tangible. It's so strong.

  Wyatt is quickly becoming very important to me and while I'm not sure exactly how he feels, my gut says he's feeling something too. Therefore, I want to make sure I don't fuck up.

  Pulling up the Facebook app, I immediately see I have a message waiting for me. I have no clue if it's from David or not, but I don't waste any time opening it up.

  And sure enough... he wrote to me.

  Andrea,

  I know you're surprised to hear from me and through Facebook no less. My sister finally convinced me to sign up so I could see all the photos she always posts of her kids, so I gave in.

  I wanted to check in to see how you were doing. I didn't feel comfortable emailing you at work, and I was honestly afraid of reaching out through the phone. I know I left things badly between us, and I also know I didn't handle it in the best way. I hurt you, and I really am sorry.

  So, how are you? Work going okay? Any word on the BRIU? I'd really like to talk if you're open to it. I think there are some things that maybe I should have explained to you. I know, for sure, we should have definitely had more of a discussion rather than me unilaterally throwing everything away. All I can say is I was operating out of a place of fear and anger, which usually always leads to poor decision making.

  You have my number. Call me if you want to talk, or maybe even better yet... meet for coffee? Next few days?

  Love,

  David

  I stare at the words on my screen, scroll up, and read through it one more time. I'm not sure what I should be feeling at this moment, but I can tell you how I'm not feeling.

  I'm not feeling overly grateful he's reached out. No fluttering in my stomach, no thumping beat of hope within my chest.

  I'm not angry or annoyed that he's now realizing he was so very wrong to do that to me.

  In fact, the most overwhelming feeling I have right now is wondering if I should really make naked bagels for Wyatt or make another attempt at pancakes.

  The most I feel about David, at this moment, is a vague curiosity as to why he wouldn't at least talk this out with me. Why didn't he afford me that respect?

  I don't bother responding. I will, of course, but I want to wait until I can get on my laptop so I can type out my thoughts. I also want to think carefully about what to say to him. I am curious enough that I want to know the "why" of what he did, but I'm not overly eager to actually talk to him. I'll have to think on that, and bagels or pancakes seem like a more important thing to ponder.

  The sound of feet trotting down the deck steps penetrates, and I turn to see Wyatt coming out to join me. He's got on just his jeans that he wore last night, and he looks absolutely edible and completely huggable the way his hair is sticking up all over the place. He's not a calm sleeper, that's for sure.

  Sitting down beside me, he says, "Good morning," and then leans over to kiss me on my temple.

  "Morning," I say and then scoot in closer to him. His arm comes around me, pulling me into his warmth and security.

  "Waiting on the sunrise?" he asks.

  I nod, lean over to grab my mug,
and bring it up for a sip.

  "Usually a pod of porpoises will be swimming along the coast around this time. If we're lucky, we'll catch sight of them."

  "I saw them yesterday morning when I got up. They were spectacular."

  "They used to give me the willies when I was younger. I used to surf with Brody and Hunter. Usually, the waves are always better in the early morning. That first flash of fin breaking the water while we were out there made me always first think it was a shark."

  I laugh as he actually shudders when he says the word "shark". "Do you still surf?"

  "No way. Didn't you just hear me? There are sharks out there. I got older and wiser."

  My belly rumbles with laughter, particularly at the thought of this very brave man being scared to surf because of sharks. "So... what you're saying, is that if I was out in the water and needed saving, you wouldn't come in and get me?"

  "Not if there was a shark out there I could see," he says emphatically. "But I'd run up, grab my gun, and then run back and try to shoot it for you."

  "You're a true hero," I say drily while I pat him on the leg in acknowledgment.

  We sit quietly together, and the sun finally starts to peek up over the horizon. I knew it was coming because over the last few minutes, the lower part of the sky started turning light blue, and the clouds hanging low started glowing with various shades of orange and pink.

  When the first rounded edge looked to seemingly break the surface of the water, it was a brilliant neon of yellow glow that was still low enough that I could look straight at it.

  Just as Wyatt had predicted, a pod of porpoises came swimming by, and I alternated my gaze going from them to the emerging sun.

  The full, spectacular show doesn't take very long and within moments, it had broken free of its prison and was hanging in the newly minted sky. It was lovely... just sitting here quietly with Wyatt and sharing something so beautiful.

  "My ex-fiance--David--reached out to me through Facebook," I say suddenly, succumbing to the impulse to share this with Wyatt.

  He turns his head to look at me, his eyes wide and curious. "What's he want?"

  "I have no clue. Said he was checking on me to see how I was. Said he wanted to talk... explain a little more about what happened between us."

  Wyatt turns his face back out toward the beach, staring thoughtfully at the water. "I guess I don't understand what more he needs to explain. I know you only gave me the short version of what happened, but you applied to the BRIU... he said he wouldn't move, asked you to pull the application, and when you didn't, he broke things off."