Mistake’s Melody: Unquiet Mind Book Four

by Malcom, Anne

  I glared at him. “That’s not fucking cool,” I hissed, my voice fractured.

  “I told you your payback hadn’t begun,” he said. “I’m gonna make sure you know the only man whose gonna see your beautiful fuckin’ tits, to have their dick inside you, to taste you, that’s me.” His voice was little more than a growl.

  He fastened his hands on the bottom of my dress and peeled it up and off me, I automatically cooperated, needing to be exposed to him.

  Wyatt was fully clothed, I was lying on the bed only in my underwear. I was suddenly conscious of the swell of my stomach. My hand automatically moved to cover it. Wyatt snatched my wrist.

  “No fuckin’ way are you tryin’ to hide shit from me,” he said. “And no fuckin’ way are you hiding this.” His palm rested on my stomach, then his body lowered so he laid his lips there.

  I shouldn’t have let him do that. That was more intimate than his hands on my pussy. It was more intimate than anything I’d experienced.

  But I didn’t stop him. I threaded my hands through his hair, gently, with a tenderness I didn’t imagine I was capable of.

  The moment lasted for too long.

  Because it sank into the core of me. Settled there with a permanence, like a fucking tattoo.

  Then Wyatt’s mouth moved down.

  All the way down.

  My panties were gone in seconds, ripping in two with Wyatt’s practiced fingers.

  And then Wyatt’s mouth was right there.

  Then I screamed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Wait,” I moaned as he pressed against my entrance.

  My thoughts were fractured. Foggy. My body was all but liquid on the mattress after Wyatt’s relentless ‘payback.’ He’d worshipped me and punished me at the same time.

  And then I’d taken control, ripped his clothes off, marveled at his body, tasted him like I’d itched to for months. The memory of doing it the first time around was hazy with alcohol and heartbreak.

  It was different than before, obviously with the fact I was pregnant, and we were both sober, but there was more. A heaviness to each touch, each movement, each fucking breath.

  He’d yanked me up his body after only a few moments of my mouth fastened on his cock, flipped me over and covered my body with his.

  And then he almost came inside.

  Until I spoke.

  He stopped immediately, though his face was clenched with the power of his restraint.

  “Condom,” I breathed.

  He jerked, then his eyes moved slowly down my body, focusing on the small bump between us. “Think it’s a bit late for that, baby.” His mouth was turned up in a wicked grin.

  And he was right. It’s not like I could get any more pregnant.

  “Em,” he said, cupping my face. “I’m sure you know this, but I’ll tell you again. I’m clean. Never would I even think of takin’ you raw if that wasn’t the case.” His gaze bore into mine. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever taken raw.”

  And that right there was the problem.

  I believed him when he said that, because Wyatt didn’t lie. Not about stuff like that.

  And that was somehow worse. That this was just for me. Another thing that brought us closer together. It was too intimate. I needed protection for my heart. But then a condom wasn’t about to protect that.

  “Em,” Wyatt murmured.

  I met his eyes. I was already fucked and he wasn’t even inside me yet. But he was under every inch of my skin.

  “Fuck me, Wyatt,” I whispered.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  He surged inside, filled me up with everything he had with blinding pleasure.

  I expected him to start moving violently, as everything from before had been furious, desperate. But he didn’t. He stopped, eyes locked on mine.

  “What are you doing?” I moaned in protest, greedy for more of this.

  “I’m makin’ sure I remember every fuckin’ second of being inside you,” he rasped, moving so slowly it was beautiful torture.

  I clawed at his back. “Remember it faster,” I ordered, my voice almost a shout. “And harder.”

  His eyes darkened and the veins in his neck protruded with the force I knew it was taking him to move so slowly.

  “Fuck, you’re yelling at me when I’m actually inside you? Hottest thing ever.” Then his eyes fastened on mine. Then he fucked me.

  Harder.

  And faster.

  * * *

  “This doesn’t change anything,” I said an inordinate amount of time later.

  We were both naked.

  On my bedroom floor.

  I had no idea how we’d gotten here. Everything after my third orgasm was delightfully blurry.

  My muscles were heavy and weightless at the same time. Which is the reason I told myself I was staying in Wyatt’s arms. Because I physically couldn’t move, not because it felt nice, comfortable, safe being encased in his arms.

  He laid his lips on my head. “Oh, it fuckin’ changes everything,” he murmured. “If I’d remembered the first time, there’s no way I would’ve let you go anywhere.”

  “The first time wasn’t like that,” I said, my stomach clenching with the memory. With the knowledge he had no memory.

  His arms tightened. “Bad?”

  I thought on it. I didn’t let myself in the days after. The months after. It was a forbidden subject. Just like my childhood. I excelled at putting things in boxes, locking them tight and leaving them be.

  “No, it wasn’t bad,” I whispered. “That’s the problem.”

  Wyatt’s arms tightened around me, then moved to cradle the swell of my belly. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’m a fucking asshole.”

  “No arguments there,” I replied. “But on this particular occasion, the fault lies with Jack Daniels.”

  He turned me so my chin was resting on his chest and his eyes met mine. “No, Em. I take responsibility for my shit. I was fucked up that night. Fucked up with shit that should’ve stayed in the past, and I invited it into my present. My future, with you.” His eyes ran over me. “No way will I regret that night. What it gave me.” His hand moved to my belly once more. “But I’ll do whatever I can to make up for the pain I caused you. Even if it takes a lifetime.” He paused. “Especially if it takes a lifetime.”

  My stomach dropped delightfully with his words. His promises.

  But then the promises curdled in my stomach once they sank into my bones. Into my past.

  “Don’t need a lifetime to fuck me now,” I purred, moving so I was on top of him and so our bare skin brushed together in all the best places.

  He gripped my hips hard enough to leave bruises.

  But it was his words and the eventual broken promises that would leave scars.

  “But I meant what I said,” I told him, brushing his hard length against my pussy. “This doesn’t change things between us, we’re not together.”

  Wyatt’s jaw was hard, and then he yanked me down. “I beg to differ,” he said, moving his mouth so it fastened over my extremely sensitive nipple.

  I cried out, my thighs clenching with need, my hands running through his hair.

  “That’s not what I mean,” I breathed when cold air assaulted my sensitive nipple.

  Wyatt’s eyes were midnight. “I know what you meant.” His palm, which had been resting on my stomach, moved down.

  Way down, right between our bodies.

  “I know you don’t trust me yet,” he said, fingers entering me. “I know I don’t deserve it. But I’ll earn it, that trust. Prove to you what this means to me.” He laid his lips on mine as I rode his fingers. “But for now, I’ll let you pretend that nothing has changed. But I’ll be fuckin’ you, be sure of that.”

  He stopped moving his fingers just as he was about to take me over the edge.

  I about screamed in frustration, my breathing heavy and body aching for release. He moved quicker than I thought possible, so I was no longer straddl
ing him, so my back was on the collection of blankets on the floor and so his head was between my legs.

  “You got a problem with one thing changing between us?” he asked, voice bland as his breath kissed my pussy.

  “You’re an asshole,” I hissed.

  He grinned. “Think you established that earlier. But I’m an asshole who’s gonna eat your pussy ‘til you scream, fuck you ‘til you can’t remember your name and make sure everything you need is at your fingertips. So, you got a problem with that?”

  I wanted to scream. Instead I whispered, “No, I don’t have a problem with that.”

  The second the last word came out of my mouth, his mouth came down on me.

  * * *

  “This is not part of the agreement of the one thing that changes,” I said between heaves.

  Wyatt was rubbing my back, holding my hair back. A cold compress was draped on the back of my neck. One he had put there.

  “What? So I’m supposed to stay in bed while you’re in here?” Wyatt asked.

  “No, you’re not supposed to be in bed,” I snapped, moving to flush the toilet and stand. I stomped to my sink, snatching my toothbrush. “You shouldn’t stay over. It sends the wrong message.”

  He folded his arms, and I was reminded of the fact that he was naked. Gloriously naked. His body had always been lean and sculpted. He had a defined six-pack, pecs made from marble, covered with tattoos.

  And lower...

  I couldn’t even think about lower.

  I turned to face the mirror, so his reflection—from the neck up—was visible.

  “And me fucking you all night sends the right message?” he teased, voice thick, his eyes on my ass.

  I glared at him, brushing my teeth furiously.

  His eyes twinkled and he walked forward so his arms wrapped around my mid-section, his palms were flat on my not so flat stomach. “I do agree that was exactly the right message,” he murmured in my ear, nuzzling my neck. “No idea why we haven’t been doing it from the start.”

  I bent down to spit into the sink, replaced my toothbrush and turned around, hating that I had to lose Wyatt’s hands on my stomach. I was already becoming used to it. That was a bad thing. Never get used to good things, they were only temporary. It was more important to learn to make things with the bad, they were permanent.

  “We didn’t do it from the start because it was a bad fucking idea,” I said, mindful of the fact that I was also naked and Wyatt’s eyes were roving hungrily up my body like I hadn’t just thrown up in front of him mere minutes ago.

  I snatched my robe.

  “The only reason we’re here right now is because a lot of alcohol and the fact that the Pill is not one hundred percent effective,” I carried on, desperate to establish boundaries that he’d ripped down last night.

  His face changed. “No, babe. I’m not here because of this.” He stepped forward to place his hand on my belly.

  I raised my brow, silently calling out his lie.

  “Well, yeah, maybe I am, in this exact moment,” he admitted. “But we were gonna happen. You know it. I hate the way we did happen, not because of what came of it, but because of the fact I was so drunk I couldn’t fucking remember the moment I’ve been building up in my head for years.”

  I paused. “You have not.”

  It was his time to raise his brow. “Babe, first time I saw you, you were seventeen and you somehow knew more about the world than most of the adults I knew. You wore a skirt so short I could almost fuckin’ see your ass, but long enough to make me imagine what it looked like. You strutted around with confidence that not even Sam has. You told me seconds after meeting me my chances of getting into your pants.” His eyes twinkled. “And I’ll admit, I was a teenage boy used to getting any girl I wanted, so part of it was the challenge. But more I got to know you, got to see you grow into what you are now, it’s not the challenge. It’s you. I just didn’t put myself here ‘cause I knew I wasn’t worthy of you. And ‘cause I knew you were still fiercely trying to carve a life out for yourself, you’d resent me if I tried to get in there.”

  His hands moved lower, moving through the gap in my robe until they brushed my pussy.

  I let out a strangled breath. I didn’t think it was possible to get this turned on after throwing up minutes ago, but Wyatt was proving me wrong.

  “I’m still not worthy of you,” he continued, eyes on mine. “But I’ll make sure I do everything I can to prove that I want you. That I fuckin’ need you. And that I’m not letting you go.”

  Against my better judgment, I believed him. I let his words sink into my soft places.

  And that was an epic fucking mistake.

  * * *

  “Hey babe,” Wyatt said, grinning at me when I approached. The grin was different than the ones we’d shared previously. Before, there had been something more than a smile between friends. There was a heat.

  But this was an inferno.

  This was a knowing between two people. Two people that had seen each other naked, explored each other’s bodies.

  And we’d done that. Relentlessly.

  It was safe to say he remembered all of the times we’d had sex in the week since I saw photos of him kissing another woman, went on a date with another man and he’d dragged me home and fucked me. It was also safe to say I was firmly in self-destruction mode. Which was why I was doing things like showing up at the recording studio because I knew the band was on a break and I couldn’t go a fucking day without seeing Wyatt.

  Who was I?

  And more accurately, how was I going to handle getting through the next two weeks of being without him when they left on their tour tomorrow?

  He yanked me in for a hug the second I got close enough, burying his head in my neck, his hand moving down my lower back and turning on every nerve ending in my body.

  I smacked his shoulder when he let me go, not completely, but enough to give me freedom of motion. “We shouldn’t be making a scene,” I hissed at him. But I didn’t fight out of his hold.

  He let me go completely, glancing around at the small handful of people who were always around the man. “What? I can’t greet my friend with a hug?” he asked innocently. And then he leaned in so his mouth brushed my ear. “And I’ll greet my woman, Emma, the mother of my daughter, properly, in my dressing room by eating her pussy ‘til she screams.”

  My entire body flushed, my thighs clenched from the pure sex in his voice, my body desperate for him, even though we’d had sex in the shower before he left my place this morning. “I’m not your woman,” I hissed as he straightened.

  “Keep tellin’ yourself that,” he muttered.

  Noah was grinning too. Well, his version of a grin, which was slightly more expressive than Killian’s. He pulled me into a hug.

  “You look great, babe,” he murmured, running his eyes over me and resting on my stomach for a split second. It was officially impossible to hide so I’d embraced it, wearing a skin-tight black dress and thigh-high boots. Well, it was to embrace my baby bump and dress up for Wyatt.

  I was such an idiot.

  I smiled. “Ditto.”

  And he did. Noah had gone through a hard time. And it showed. Not because he wasn’t beautiful, he was. He was like poetry in a person, dark hair, light skin, covered in black ink, his clothes always the same color. There was a sadness in his eyes that never really left. It had a lot to do with his family, everything to do with his father’s treatment of him.

  But something was different. There wasn’t as much heaviness to him.

  “Something different, or someone different?” I asked slyly.

  He didn’t speak much about his love life. Another thing his asshole, bigoted piece of shit father had to answer for, Noah being ashamed of his sexuality.

  He didn’t tell me much, but he told me more than most. I knew some asshole jock had broken his fragile heart in high school and that he made sure to never repeat that pain by never repeating the same guy.
r />   I could relate.

  He grinned, fully this time, like a normal human being. “Someone.”

  My heart soared. “If I was the kind of girl who squealed and did little dances, I’d totally be doing that right now.”

  “And let me just tell you, I’m glad you’re not the kind of girl who squeals and does little dances,” Noah deadpanned.

  I flipped him the bird.

  “That’s more like it.”

  “I’ve got to go to my dressing room,” Wyatt said loudly. “I’m famished. And Emma, weren’t you saying there was something I could eat that I know will taste fucking delicious?” he all but yelled at me.

  My stomach dipped and my panties were soaked instantly.

  I still glared at him, he was making no pains to keep the sex in his gaze a secret.

  But I followed him to his dressing room.

  And he ate my pussy ‘til I screamed.

  * * *

  “I miss you.”

  I rolled my eyes, resting my phone in the crook of my ear and firing off emails to various clients about being ‘temporarily unavailable.’ It killed me and my adventurous soul not to fly off to Serbia—where I knew a dealer had some of the best pieces in the world—but I was willing to kill any and all parts of my soul if it kept my daughter safe.

  “You can’t miss me, it’s been like six hours,” I said into the phone, trying to play off the fact that I fucking missed him too, despite the fact they’d only just left today. Despite the fact Wyatt’s scent was still imprinted on my body since I hadn’t showered after we’d had sex and he left. It was sick, I knew, but I didn’t want to wash him off me.

  “Just fucking say you miss me too, Emma,” he demanded, voice rough.

  I bristled. “No.”

  “You do, though.”

  “I do not,” I lied.

  There was a pause. “Is this what it’s gonna be for the rest of my life? Me trying to get you to admit you miss me?”

  I smiled. “Only if you give me a reason to miss you.”

  “I tried to get you to come.”

  “To follow you around like some groupie, you mean,” I corrected.