"And this is the good end?"
"Well, you're conscious, so that's an improvement. And you look good in my tee shirt, so I'd say I'm okay with this morning so far. But I have some other ideas about your good end."
"Lovely. So let me get this straight, you apparently turned me down last night? Wow, my self-esteem has had better days."
"Oh, come on, Doc. You know I think you're incredibly hot, but you were practically unconscious. Give me some credit. I mean, I'm an asshole, but I'm not a dick."
Jenna moved her head so her hazy-blue eyes could focus on his face.
"You're not an asshole or a dick, Wyatt," she said on a deliberate sigh.
"Wow! Now my self-esteem is through the roof. Easy with the praise, Doc. I could get used to this."
"Oh, stop it." She halfheartedly threw a pillow at him.
"Oof. Oh, I think you hurt me. I may need you to examine me. Make sure I'm all right."
"You're fine," she huffed out, sitting up. "I mean it, though, I really should go."
"Wait a second. I thought we would discuss your offer from last night a bit more."
"I'm not even entertaining that comment until I brush my teeth and feel half human for the first time this morning."
Wyatt smiled. That wasn't a flat-out rejection, so he had some faith.
She awkwardly hoisted herself out of bed, slapping her bare feet on his hardwood floor as she pulled his threadbare tee shirt further across her curvy, athletic ass.
"Hey, cut it out!" she shouted, turning to glare at him.
"What?" he asked with feigned innocence.
"Stop staring at my ass."
"I'm not staring. I'm just appreciating it…intensely."
"Fine. I'm too tired to fight you. Can you show me to the bathroom? I need some toothpaste."
"Of course, Doc. I will set your mouth up perfectly."
"Right. Charming as ever, Wyatt."
"I aim to please. Follow me."
He stood and began to lead her out when she stopped short.
"What's that? Is that a guitar?"
"Yep."
"You play?"
"I do. I sing, too."
"You're kidding me."
"Don't act so surprised. I'm not half bad, I mean my abuela is a fan. More so of my Spanish guitar playing. That one is in another room. This one's more for my Irish-beer-drinking half."
"Ugh, don't mention beer, I'm still trying to let that Alka-Seltzer work its magic. Talking about alcohol could have unpleasant consequences."
"Duly noted. Now, about that toothbrush."
"Yeah, please show me the way," she whispered, still studying the guitar with confused eyes.
Jenna grasped the edge of Wyatt's marble bathroom basin with white-knuckled force, as she tried to fight back the emotions of complete shame and panic rising in her chest. He'd been pleasant enough, especially considering she'd practically jumped him the night before. She'd been so bold only a handful of drunken hours before — ready to put a lifetime of responsible decisions behind her, only to get rebuffed and humiliated. A rational part of her brain appreciated that he'd done the right thing, but the rest of her couldn't get over the feeling of embarrassment and self-disgust.
She looked in the mirror and was shocked to see the same face that had greeted her for the last three decades of her life. Jenna had imagined a different woman would be there, one who handled challenges with grace, but no — it was just her, with some extra mascara streaks on the tops of her cheeks.
"It looks like I don't wear 'dangerous fun' well," she said out loud, into the cavernous room, which could've swallowed her entire bedroom. She turned around and let herself take it all in. There was a glass shower with a dozen shower heads that her logical eye could tell weren't just for comfort, and an enormous bathtub that ignited a slew of fantasies of sloshing around in there with Wyatt.
"It looks like my sex drive still hasn't learned its lesson. Time to brush my teeth, stop talking to myself, and get out of here."
She turned around and finally noticed there was indeed a brand-new toothbrush already on the sink for her next to his toothbrush and toothpaste. She snorted to herself, assuming he had a hundred of these fresh toothbrushes for his overnight lady friend guests, most likely buying them in bulk.
A pang of guilt struck when she saw the name of his dentist on the handle.
"Okay, maybe I'm being too hard on the guy. And…I'm still talking to myself. Jesus, woman, pull yourself together," she mumbled out loud, right before she shoved the toothpaste-soaked bristles into her mouth.
With her face scrubbed, teeth polished, and dignity slightly more intact, Jenna ventured back into his bedroom. She hadn't gotten much of a chance to explore his home when she'd trampled into it the night before like some kind of a blonde tornado.
She grabbed her bra off the chair, feeling impressed it wasn't thrown on the floor. Looking toward the door to make sure she’d be alone, she quickly lifted the shirt and put the bra on, closing the clasp in the front. She was starting to feel normal again. Yet, all that relief flew away when she realized her neck was bare. She yanked the shirt down and scrambled to the bed, tearing at the covers and pillows, desperate to find that most-prized connection to her mother.
Just when she was beginning to fear it may be lost forever, like so many other things Jenna had once loved, she saw a ray of sunlight out of the corner of her eye, glinting cheerily against the gold heirloom that meant so much to her.
Her locket was resting safely on Wyatt's bedside table. The relief was almost crippling to her in her over-emotional and hungover state. Everything in her life was so confusing and scary, with no telling what the next day or week would bring. Jenna sank heavily into the mattress of Wyatt's now disheveled bed, her still bare legs dangling off the edge, and her heart firmly nestled in her throat. For the life of her, she didn't know what to do next. Time was marching ahead second by second, but Jenna felt like she was standing still with no idea what to do next.
All she knew for sure was that this precious piece of her mother was safe in the bedroom of the last man she ever thought would make her feel looked after and protected. But he'd rushed to her side when she'd asked, and taken the necklace off her when she was too stupid to do it for herself.
It was such a little thing, but it felt huge to her — significant, in fact. The whole morning was so confusing. Everything had been so much easier when she could tell herself Wyatt was nothing but the same jerk she'd met before. It wasn't that simple now.
Whatever the Jenna from the night before had thought, the Jenna of today knew she needed to face her fate alone. She couldn't allow herself to rely on Wyatt — he had already gotten under her skin too much. She worried if she grew to care for him and then found out she was sick, would she be strong enough to say good-bye? The only smart answer was to have the consideration to thank him quickly, but then get the hell out of there, and fast.
Breathing deeply she willed herself to put on a neutral face and get this over with quickly. Standing up briskly, she grabbed her dress only to toss it back on the chair after she caught a whiff of the stench of the casino and too many spilled martinis.
"I'll put it on after I say good-bye to him. It's going to be bad enough facing him again without having this funky thing on," she whispered to herself, before grabbing her locket and charging into his kitchen.
His elaborate, beautiful, and empty kitchen.
"Going somewhere?" he asked from behind her, with a gentle touch to her back, making her jump. "Whoa, easy, Doc, I've got hot coffee here and I generally try to avoid third-degree burns in my daily life, if I can."
"Oh, yeah, sorry, I wasn’t looking at that side of the kitchen and you surprised me. I think I'm a little nervous."
"Just relax. Here, I made this for you," he said, showing her the mug.
"Wow, thanks. I feel like I'm getting the five-star treatment here."
"Well, you're the only woman I've ever given this treatment to,
so I guess it's at least exclusive."
"Ooh, now if you go and make me feel special, that might go to my head, you know?"
"Ah, come on. A sensible girl like you? I'm not worried."
"I don't feel too sensible right now. I figure a trip back to my real life will work wonders for me."
"Don't you want your coffee? What do you have there?" he asked, as he placed the coffee mug on the counter behind her.
"What?" she asked.
"Behind your back. Stop being a baby. Show me."
"I'm not being a baby. It's my necklace, that's all. Thanks for taking it off for me."
"Which did you like more, me taking off your dress or your necklace?"
"The necklace, of course. I just mean, well, thanks for doing that when you, um…"
"Very tastefully prepared you for bed?"
"Right. Well put. I would just hate for it to get damaged," she said, stroking her thumb across the locket, "so I appreciate you doing that."
"I don't want anything of yours to be damaged. Especially something that seems to be so special to you. You wear it all the time, Doc."
"Thanks. It was my mother's."
"Was?"
"Yeah," she looked away from him and cleared her throat uncomfortably as she fumbled to put the necklace back on with trembling fingers.
"Here, let me," Wyatt said calmly, taking the delicate chain from her hands.
"Are you sure you can do it?"
"I grew up with three generations of women under one roof. Trust me, I can handle putting on a necklace. Come here."
Wyatt reached around her to push the coffee cup farther back on the kitchen counter, gently grazing her waist on the way. The contact quickened her pulse and she could feel her breaths become more rapid in her throat.
"Don’t want you to get burned," he said, winking at her. "Turn around," Wyatt whispered against her hair, and she obliged. Jenna felt his fingers against the back of her neck as he moved the tangled mess of her hair across her back and over one shoulder. "Good."
She could feel the full length of his hard body against her back, her legs, her ass — everywhere. What is it with this guy? He has a way of controlling my body and it refuses to tell him no. She stood completely still — she wanted to be there with him and no sense of sanity would sway her to move.
Wyatt leaned forward, breathing against her cheek as he slid the locket along her breasts and then pulled it higher, dragging it slowly over his tee shirt — the pressure of the metal teasing her already sensitized skin. Then his heated fingers were at her neck and she could barely process her own passionate desire for him. Each pass of his fingertips against her nape was sending her nerves into a tailspin, but just when she was ready to turn around, he stepped back and all the glorious sensations he provided her were suddenly gone, leaving her feeling completely empty.
"You can turn back around now," he whispered hotly, against her bare ear.
Jenna turned around slowly and looked up into his face. She was shocked that Wyatt looked just as overcome as she was. His brows were slightly furrowed and his eyes were as dark as sweet chocolate, focusing on her lips, then slowly moving down to her chest. He lifted his right hand toward her face, but hesitated, instead taking the weight of the pendant in his hand, stroking the delicately carved face with his thumb.
"Very pretty."
"Thank you," Jenna choked out.
"May I?"
"Open it? Okay, but it's empty. Nothing to see in there."
"An empty locket? Well that's just sad."
"Hey, don't be mean. I just haven't had anything special enough to put in it — yet."
Jenna was shocked by her own candor, and clearly so was Wyatt because his face turned up quickly. He looked into her eyes again, but swiftly dropped his hand from the necklace.
Jenna tried to be relieved, but it was just the same old roller coaster as every other time he was near her — concentrated adrenaline and excitement, immediately replaced with loss and disappointment when his touch was gone.
Jenna didn't even care anymore that he wasn't what she was supposed to want — that he was bound to break her heart and make her feel like an idiot all over again. No, all she wanted was for that euphoria to come back to her, to experience the overwhelming intensity being with him gave to her.
He picked up her coffee mug and placed it in the sink, returning to stand in front of her with a small smile on his face. Just when she almost had the courage to make a move, his large hands were at her waist and he picked her up off the floor, sitting her down on the marble countertop. The stone was cool against the heated bare skin of her legs, only emphasizing how powerfully she responded to this man to whom she'd tried so hard to be immune.
"That's too bad."
"Huh, oh, um, why?" she asked, trying to shake some sense into her still fuzzy brain.
"Because I think you should have lots of special things, Doc."
"You do? Be careful, Wyatt, you might soften me up."
"I'm willing to risk it. I think I'd like the soft parts of you very much."
His right hand slid up from her waist slowly, taking extra time as he grazed some of those soft parts he had referenced, leaving a trail of tingly fire in his wake, until he finally rested his large, rough hand in the curve of her neck, wrapping his fingers around her smooth skin.
"How can you think that? You don't even know me."
"Because you won't let me. I know you well enough that you asked me to pick you up last night."
"I blame the martinis and my itchy texting finger. It was horny and it wouldn't listen to reason."
"Hmm, so that's your story now? In that case, I think I like that finger. Which one is it?" he asked with a turn of his lips that creased one cheek. Wyatt lightly lifted her right hand and held it to his face. With the slightest movement of his tongue, he drew her index finger into his warm mouth and sucked it inside. After a moment, he let it slide slowly off his lower lip.
"Is it that finger? Because I like that one already."
"Sometimes I text with that one, but I was in a hurry, so… You should maybe meet the thumb, too." Jenna's heartbeat seemed so loud in her ears, it was almost embarrassing.
"Oh really? This thumb," he whispered, and then pulled the flesh into his mouth by his teeth and Jenna couldn't help but let her body arch toward his. Her brain was still in that hazy zone somewhere between hungover and maybe still a little tipsy, and every touch of Wyatt's tongue on her flesh was making her feel as though her whole body was quivering.
"Yeah, that thumb."
Wyatt licked a circle along the center of her palm. He was looking up at her and she could sense the excitement in him, but also the hesitance, and that drove her even more crazy.
"Was it only the texting fingers that wanted to see me?" he whispered against her hand, his warm breath making her tingle deeply throughout her body. It was as though each word and every breath from his mouth were pulling a thread on the torn sweater of Jenna's resolve until she was completely unraveled before him. "I asked you a question, belleza."
"Oh it's belleza now? I guess that's progress."
Wyatt gripped Jenna's wrist harder and bit the fleshy part of her palm hard until she squealed.
"Hey!" she cried, trying to jerk her hand away, but he just pulled her back and forced her to look in to his eyes.
"I asked you a question. Did you want to see me?"
She instantly looked away. Her brain wanted to lie — to pretend it was all a drunken mistake — but she knew she couldn't do that, not when she was staring down the prospect that had filled her with terror since she was six years old. The mere idea she could be a frail, helpless woman lying in a hospital bed set her heart to racing and it was just too exhausting to lie about everything.
"I'm waiting," he said sternly, and Jenna let herself look into his eyes that were so forceful, yet there was a warmth in there that she couldn't place.
If I just focus on that look, then I don't have to fee
l so alone — so scared.
"I wanted to see you, Wyatt."
"And why's that?" he whispered, leaning forward and nibbling on the part of her body where her neck met her shoulder, and Jenna was sure her whole body had turned to Jell-O.
"Um, because…I wanted to be alone with you," she gasped out, noticing that one of his hands was swirling a tight circle against her bare waist, underneath his tee shirt. "I wanted to look at you. To feel the way I feel when you're near me. I don't know what any of it means, but I know I felt that way."
"And how do you feel now, belleza?" Wyatt's other hand slid its way down the side of her body until it found her hip and gripped her tightly.
"I feel like I want to make good on what I tried to start last night."
Pleased with her answer, he smiled and trailed his tongue across the raised mound of her palm until he reached her thumb again, sucking it firmly into his mouth.
Everything was getting away from her and Jenna knew she needed some kind of control — to stop or go full forward, and it suddenly became so clear to her which one it had to be. She spread her legs wider. Her hot thighs slid across the cool granite, allowing his firm hips to fall heavily between her legs. She could feel his hard muscles, and already firm length pressed hard against her pulsing core.
Wyatt grinned and opened his mouth to speak.
"Don't fuck this up by talking, Wyatt," Jenna said, her eyes locked on his and her thumb still firmly in his mouth. She slowly dragged the thumb out and wrapped the rest of her hand around his chin, and pressed her lips on his.
That was the last moment of control she had before Wyatt quickly took both his hands and grabbed her ass, pressing her roughly against him until she was practically writhing against his body. Jenna moaned and pressed her lips more firmly against his.
His lips were soft and his tongue was insistent, and he tasted so damn good. It was all teeth and lips and delayed gratification — so potent that Jenna felt like her chest would explode. As Wyatt squeezed her bottom and brought her against him again, he thrust just slightly against the cotton of her panties and groaned heavily.
He leaned back and looked in her eyes, and it was only then that Jenna realized she had fistfuls of his hair in each hand. His lips were wet and swollen and all she wanted to do was to kiss him again.
City of Champions Page 15
