Say You Want Me

by Corinne Michaels

  While continuing to lick, suck, and bite, his hand moves over my center. The pressure against my clit is too much. “Please don’t make me beg.” My voice is full of need.

  “Never,” he says. He hooks his thumbs into the waist of my shorts, and I lift just enough for him to pull them down. My ass hits the cold metal, but I’m too hot to care. He pulls them off my legs, and I’m now completely naked while he’s completely dressed. I reach for his shirt, but he stops me. “You. This is about you.” He cups my cheek. “I’ve been good, but I won’t be able to stop myself if you touch me. I’ll want all of you.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Right now I want all of him too.

  He smirks. “Not tonight, baby.” Wyatt kisses me. “Tonight, I want to make you come.” As he says the last word, his finger moves against my clit. “I want to watch the heat in your eyes.” My lips part, and suddenly it’s really hard to breathe. “It’s up to you, baby. Do I use my finger or my mouth?”

  Oh. Fucking. Hell.

  “I want your mouth on mine,” I say quickly. I want to be able to kiss him. I love the way he kisses. It’s commanding and yet yielding at the same time. He takes as much as he gives. I could kiss him all day and be content in life.

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he slips in a finger. “Wyatt,” I groan as my head falls back. His lips close around my nipple as he fingers me, his thumb pressing around my clit, making small circles. I climb toward my orgasm so fast it’s maddening, but he’s hitting every spot, completely unrelenting.

  Wyatt continues to work me hard. “You’re so hot, baby. Do you want me to taste you?” he questions, allowing me to decide. “Or I can just do this?” He takes the icing that is in the bowl and spreads it across my chest.

  I watch as he licks it from me, moaning as he moves his face, lapping up every bit of the icing. His fingers pump harder and it becomes too much. The cold from the table, the sound of his pleasure, the way his finger curls, the heat of his tongue, and the smell of sweetness mixed with Wyatt.

  My senses are overloaded.

  I let go and allow the pleasure to be all I focus on.

  “You taste even sweeter now.” His tongue slides against my skin. “I could do this all night. Feel your body against mine, listen to the noises you make, smell how fucking hot I make you. You’re going to bring me to my knees, baby.”

  “Yes.” My eyes slam shut.

  “You like that?” He fills me deep. “You want more?”

  “Yes!” I pant.

  I want it all. I want him. I want to lose myself with him, but he’s holding back.

  Wyatt pumps his fingers in and out as he latches on to my breast. He sucks and bites, causing my pleasure to spike higher.

  “I’m gonna come!” I yell as he rubs faster against my clit.

  “Let it go, Angie. Let me make you feel good.”

  “Wyatt!” I cry as my orgasm rakes through me. His mouth is on mine, swallowing my sounds. I kiss him with everything I am.

  His fingers draw out the last of my orgasm, our kiss turning lazy and slow.

  My arms are wrapped around his neck, and we both keep our foreheads against each other. “That was . . .”

  He chuckles. “Long overdue?” I smile as he kisses me again. “We should clean up. We need to get some sleep, and you should get dressed before I attempt round two.”

  I raise my brow, thinking maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  Wyatt shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Angel. I plan to do that again real soon. As soon as you realize how much you really want me.”

  Then he does the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He dips his finger in the bowl of icing, and licks it clean. “Mmm.” He grins. “Angie and icing. I found my new favorite flavor.”

  Yeah. I might have just come again.

  He helps dress me, which is sweet and somewhat disappointing. I notice the large bulge in his pants and feel bad. “I can help you with that,” I offer.

  Wyatt looks down, and then his face grows serious. “When we go there again, it’s going to be because you have feelings above the fact that we have amazing sex. It’s going to be about you and me, and what we’re buildin’ here. I want you.” He kisses me. “I want you more than anything. But not when you’re holding back, and not when you’re feelin’ guilty because I gave you the best orgasm of your life.”

  “Umm,” I laugh. “Little full of yourself?”

  “You’ll be full of me soon.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “You can call me Wyatt.”

  I bust out laughing. “You need Jesus.”

  He kisses my nose and pats my ass. “Maybe so, but we need to get to work.”

  We both look around at the spilled batter, no longer usable icing, and mess. “I really hope at least some of this is edible.”

  “You own a bakery, Ang. I’m sure it’s great.”

  Wyatt walks over to me and hands me a cupcake. “Try it.”

  “Why don’t you try it first?” I bat my eyes.

  “Now, that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” Wyatt lets his deep Southern drawl seep through. I have to say how much I really love it. It’s sexy and so different. Kind of like how most American women would drop their panties for a British or Australian accent. There’s something about it that makes me get all stupid.

  Wyatt extends the cupcake toward me again.

  I have no clue if this is going to be good. I figure he should really take one for the team. Then I glance at his still prominent erection and realize he already has. It’s really the least I can do.

  I take a bite. “Holy crap!” I exclaim. “This is freaking good! It’s actually good!”

  “Of course it is.”

  “No.” I push away. “I suck. I’m not the baker by any means. I know it’s kind of insane since I own a bakery, but I’ve always let Presley or the bakers do it. But this . . . this is really good, Wyatt!”

  My entire day is made. I did this. I created our signature cupcake and didn’t screw up. I don’t know if the rest of them are bad, but this one is good so I’m going to pretend they all taste the same.

  I start to dance around a little, and he captures me in his arms, hoisting me against his chest. “I’m proud of you. You did something really nice for my mama’s friend.”

  My hands hook around his neck as he holds me a few inches off the floor. “I’m happy to do it. She’s so nice, even if she did play me.” I throw that last bit in. “I had fun with you tonight.”

  “I did, too.” My heart races as he looks at my lips.

  Working with him tonight melted another layer in my anti-Wyatt walls. Well, that and the sexy time. Maybe we really do have something.

  Maybe he’s so much more.

  “I DON’T WANT TO GET up.” I roll over as Wyatt nudges me.

  “Too bad.”

  Doesn’t he realize that I’m exhausted? “Pregnant. Need sleep.”

  “Either you get up on your own or I’m tossing you in the shower with your clothes on.” He wouldn’t dare. “Or I can strip you down if you’d prefer.”

  My eyes pop open so I can glare at him. “I hate you.”

  He smirks. “I think you like me. A lot more than you care to admit.”

  I give him more of an evil look, but he slaps the bed and hops up. “How are you so chipper this early?”

  Wyatt looks at me as if I said something weird. “Angie, I get up for work before the sun rises every day. This is sleeping in for me.”

  I glance over at the clock and gasp. “It’s freaking five o’clock in the morning?” I yell. “Are you kidding me? When does this festival start?”

  “I thought you owned a bakery?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, what time do you go in? Don’t you have baker’s hours?”

  I flop back and put the pillow over my head. “I don’t. The bakers do,” I mumble into fabric and feathers.

  He laughs and pulls the pillow away. “Well, baby. You’re the baker today.
”

  Yesterday, I thought the coup to get me to do this was cute and funny. Today in the darkness of the morning, I no longer find it entertaining. Now, I want to hurt someone. But I can suck it up for today. Plus, the festival looked like a lot of fun. I love flea markets and fairs. There’s always something to repurpose or a unique craft to find. I can only imagine the types of homemade items that will be there today.

  “Coffee first,” I say as I swing my legs off the bed.

  I was extremely excited to learn that I was allowed to have one cup of coffee a day. I explained to the doctor that I would do my best to limit it. I went from drinking four cups a day to one. I had really bad headaches at first, but they’re definitely more manageable now.

  “You get in the shower, and then we’ll get food and coffee.”

  I complain, but do as he says.

  The shower feels great, and we were too exhausted to care about how dirty we were last night. I have batter under my nails, and the sheets will definitely need to be washed. Lord only knows how much flour Wyatt still had on him when we fell into bed.

  Once all the cupcakes were done and we’d made a new batch of icing, we had to clean the shop. I have to say that there was nothing sexier than watching Wyatt on the floor scrubbing the mess we made. He was so sweet, telling me to get off my feet and rest. I tried to fight him, but he made a face that was too cute to disobey. I sat there, ate another cupcake, and discovered it wasn’t just the first one that tasted good. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is my favorite, and the only recipe I remember by heart. Luckily, Mrs. Kannan had planned to make something similar, so she had all the ingredients already.

  I get out of the shower and throw on a pair of loose shorts and a tank top. It’s going to be hot outside today, and I want to be comfortable. Plus, Wyatt is in a pair of basketball shorts and a plain white shirt, so I doubt I have to dress up.

  “Ready?” I say as I grab my sneakers.

  “Yup.” He walks over, hands me a travel mug, and kisses my forehead. “What was that for?” I ask.

  “This means a lot to me. I’m glad you helped out a very sick old lady in need.”

  I laugh. “You mean faking sick.”

  He tilts his head to the side. “She’ll expect that you believe her. One thing those women know how to do is scheme. So, for your benefit, you better play along.”

  “Noted.”

  I go to take a sip, needing the caffeine, and I’m shocked. “Wyatt!” I yell, pulling a larger amount from the cup. “This is a Caramel Macchiato!”

  Oh my God. He made me my favorite drink. I’ve been searching through Pinterest to find a good copycat since Presley told me it was completely irrational to drive a few towns over for a drink. How did he find one before I did? Do I care? Nope.

  “Pres said that was what you liked. I hope it tastes like you wanted it. Like home.”

  I close the top of my heaven in a cup and rush toward him. My arms fly around his middle, and he lets out a short laugh before hugging me closer. “Thank you,” I say with sincerity. “Thank you for doing this. It’s so sweet, and it does taste like home.”

  It tastes better than that because he made it for me. It’s the little things that he does without even knowing it. How he texts me during the day, worries about my feet, touches my belly, and is just . . . perfect. I’m used to men who have to go overboard to prove they’re so great. But Wyatt doesn’t do that. He’s just him. God, I’m in trouble.

  We arrive at the bakery, and already the town is alive. Everyone is setting up their tables, running around, and chatting with each other.

  “Hey!” Presley comes over with Zach.

  “Hey, guys.” I smile and give them each a hug.

  Presley looks at the cupcake display with a smile. “You ready for today?”

  “We are,” Wyatt says as he carries another tray of cupcakes down.

  “Well, if it isn’t, Betty Crocker, or are you Duncan Hines?” Zach takes a crack at Wyatt.

  “Like you should talk,” Wyatt scoffs. “I’ve seen you do far more embarrassing shit than make some cupcakes for Presley.”

  Zach rolls his eyes. “Looks like I’m not the only whipped one here anymore.”

  “You two will never change,” Presley scolds. “You’re like infants.”

  They remind me of what my brothers used to be like before Josh became a dick.

  Wyatt throws his arm around me. “It’s fine, Pres. I’m used to him crying like a little girl. He’s mad because Trent took all his money in poker the other night.”

  Her face falls. “You didn’t tell me you were playin’ poker with Trent. You said you had to help your brothers.”

  Zach flips Wyatt off. “Thanks, asshole.” He turns to Presley. “I did help my brothers, darlin’. I helped them take my money.”

  “They always take your money! It’s why you said you weren’t going to play anymore.”

  Oh, shit. He’s in trouble. I’ve seen Presley when she gets like this. I lean against Wyatt with a grin. This is going to be comedic gold.

  “Don’t be too hard on him, Pres,” Wyatt tries to interject. “He did win a hand or two. Plus, Trent did call us over to move some stuff for Mama. It wasn’t until after we were done that he sucked both of us into a game. You know us Henningtons can’t resist the urge to compete.”

  “Yeah, Pres.” Zach agrees. “It was supposed to be in fun.”

  She glares at Wyatt and then huffs. “You’ll pay in other ways, Cowboy. Many other ways.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “I’m going to be sick,” I say while shaking my head.

  Presley looks at me, realizes I’m only being metaphorical, and she laughs. “We better be gettin’ back to our booth before they send out a search party.”

  “Have fun!” I say with mock enthusiasm.

  Wyatt and I go back to setting up the booth the best we can. I have no idea how Mrs. Kannan typically runs things, so I’m winging it. Of course, Wyatt can’t remember either, so he does whatever I ask. It’s a flawed system, but it’s working for now.

  About an hour later, the streets are packed. People come from all over. Everyone is courteous, everyone is nice, and it’s . . . surreal. Definitely nothing like back home.

  We move around the tent, selling cupcakes as Wyatt flirts with the women, who then buy more cupcakes. It’s hilarious to watch them fawn over him, and I have to admit that he’s adorable.

  “Angie! You’re a lifesaver!” Mrs. Kannan rushes over, clearly not under the weather.

  “Mrs. Kannan, you look like you’re well.”

  She laughs. “Must’ve been one of those twelve-hour bugs or something. Funny how quick it cleared up with a little bit of rest. You really saved the day, dear.”

  I shake my head with a smile. “I’m happy to help.”

  “Why don’t you let me take over? I’m sure you’re just exhausted. I remember all too well when I was pregnant. I could sleep for days!”

  “I don’t mind.” I really don’t. It’s been really fun. I’ve met pretty much every member of Bell Buckle and the surrounding towns. They all talk about how excited they are to meet me and throw in a good word for Wyatt.

  “I insist.” She pushes both mine and Wyatt’s backs. “Go on now. You know, Wyatt? Your mama was looking for some help at her booth. I think Trent has had enough.”

  Wyatt’s eyes bug out. “I doubt she would want me there.”

  “You know?” She taps her lip. “I remember now, she told me that you were required down there.”

  I laugh. Payback. “Wyatt.” I touch his arm. “You wouldn’t want to not help out your mother when she needs you. It wouldn’t be very Southern of you, would it?”

  He runs his tongue across his teeth and makes a tsk sound. “You think so, huh?”

  I shrug. “What would Martha Stewart do?”

  “All right, Big City. Let’s go help Mama since you’re in a giving mood.”

  We walk through the crowds, and
I make him stop every few stands to check out some of the things for sale. There’s one booth off to the right that has horseshoes dangling from the front. They have different plaques with names painted on them, a few sewn projects, but I love the horseshoes more than anything. They’re all engraved with whatever you want on them. I touch the cool metal over the name engraved on the bottom of the display one. “Can we get one?” I ask Wyatt.

  He looks perplexed. “Of course, but for what?”

  “Well, I was thinking at the bottom it can say: ‘Hennington’. Then on the side here,” I point to the left, “we can put the date of conception, and on the other side, we can have it updated to the baby’s birthday?”

  The smile he gives me lights up the sky. After spending the last twenty-four hours with him, I want to do something special. He baked cupcakes, gave me a stellar orgasm, made me coffee, and so many other things in a small bit of time. It may be insignificant to some, but to me, it means everything. No one ever thinks of me like that. I’ve never had a man give up his time or go out of his way just because.

  Wyatt does that, though, and he does it without selfish intentions. He gives the parts of himself willingly because he has so much more to offer. He doesn’t have to tuck pieces of his heart away like I do. He just is.

  “I think it’s a great idea. We can hang it over the door of the nursery once we get that together” His lips press against my cheek. “I love it.”

  “I’m glad it makes you happy.”

  He gazes at me before looking away. “You being here makes me happy.”

  “I had a really great time last night. It was fun.”

  “Me too.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  “Not that!” I clarify.

  Wyatt chuckles. “I know, baby. I had a really good time with you, too. It was fun working beside you.”

  “Good. You were a lot of help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  I don’t remember if I told him that, but he deserves to know it.

  We place the order, and we’re told they’ll mail it to us in a few days.

  I wave to Presley and Zach as we pass the Townsend’s booth. She mouths: help me. I shake my head and keep moving as we enter where more fair games are.