All Geek to Me

by Allie York

  “I’m out!” Rae holds up a peace sign as she walks backwards toward the front door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” With a wink to me, she pushes the door open and walks out to her car.

  “We are too.” Tuesday runs across the room and grabs me up in a hug. “Have fun tonight,” she giggles in my ear. I wave at Greer and watch the twins leave. Before I can even think about it, Wyatt is locking the door and hitting the light switch by the front door. With the exit light above his head and the emergency light near my stairs, I can barely see his outline against the dark outside. He stands perfectly still, watching me, the silence filling in around us.

  “So,” I break the silence, but only add to the awkwardness.

  “Hungry?” He strides toward me with all the confidence in the world, but his voice gives the same hint of uncertainty that I’m feeling.

  “Not really,” I admit, wishing I was so we could go eat and be less awkward. Somehow all the sizzle we had earlier is gone, replaced with a sense of self-consciousness.

  “Me neither.” He gets to me and takes my hand. I glance toward the stairs and his eyes follow my gaze. Something about making a plan to have sex, made it… well, weird.

  “Movie and popcorn?” I suggest and his shoulders drop.

  “Perfect,” Wyatt agrees, and I lead us to the stairs. He stops on the third step and stares at my door. “What is that?” He points at the picture on the eleventh step.

  “It’s Eleven from Stranger Things,” I answer as if this is obvious.

  “But why?” He follows up and takes another three steps.

  “It’s the eleventh step. Duh.” I get to the top and turn to see him shake his head, a smile on his face.

  Inside my apartment, I point him toward the TV and start into the kitchen. I have cheddar cheese popcorn in three varieties, ready for a movie night, so I dump a little from all three bags in the giant bowl. “Drink?” I open the fridge to show him the options in the door. He points at the bottom shelf and I grab two beers. Maybe a little liquid courage will make the evening a little less tense. The idea was to have crazy first-time sex, but something is off now that we both watched several other couples leave together and tore down a whole room of tables and chairs.

  I drop down next to him on the couch and offer the beer. I put the popcorn on the table and we both pop the tops at the same time, both taking a sip. “How did this get so uncomfortable?” he finally asks.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What changed?” He reaches for a handful of popcorn and toes off his shoes, tucking them back under my futon. I put my beer down on the trunk serving as a coffee table and untie my boots. Once I put them with his, I start on my suspenders and drape them over the blankets behind us. Wyatt watches me with his undivided attention, beer halfway to his mouth. Watching his reaction makes me keep going. Maybe nothing changed. I stand up, take off my belt and add it to my suspenders. Wyatt doesn’t move, so I pull my hair out of the scrunchie and toss it on the table, letting my mass of dark waves fall down around my back and shoulders. Wyatt quirks one eyebrow and his hand moves an inch closer to his mouth with the beer. I stand up and shimmy out of my leggings, leaving the khaki skirt and red button-down shirt. The beer stops its movement again. I sit back down, pick up my beer, and take a long drink. Wyatt blinks twice and takes a drink that turns into two, then three.

  “What do you want to watch?” I ask when he finishes chugging the beer.

  “You.” The answer is so quick, I’m not sure he even thought about it. My eyes meet his and I take one more drink of my beer before putting it on the table, standing up, and starting on my shirt buttons. Wyatt sets his beer next to mine on the table and adjusts in his seat. By four buttons, my cleavage and the lace of my bra are exposed. I watch him swallow and keep going, one button at a time, very slowly. I have never in my life stripped in front of a guy before. Not like this. But I watch his face, the attention he’s paying to every move I’m making and keep going. I get to the last button and let the shirt fall off my shoulders then to the floor. I reach for the zipper on the side of my skirt, but Wyatt’s hand darts up and wraps around mine. Our eyes meet and he loosens his grip on my fingers to start at the band of my skirt and run his hand up my stomach to my bra, never taking his eyes off mine. My skin breaks out in goosebumps.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he whispers, his palm flat against my breastbone, fingers splayed between my breasts. I can feel his hand rise and fall with my rapid breathing. Without answering, I unzip my skirt, wiggle it down my hips, and let it fall to the floor. Wyatt’s blue eyes are on my face before raking them down my body to my toes. He slowly drags his hand down my stomach to my panties and traces a line across the lace band to my hip. I shudder. He runs his calloused fingers down my hip to the exposed underside of my ass and down the back of my leg, a trail of goosebumps follows his path. He pulls me toward him and instead of stepping out of my skirt, I trip over it, of course, and stumble toward him. Thankfully, he’s ready to catch me and all of my graceful, mostly naked self tumbles into his lap.

  “Shit,” I grumble and hide my face behind my hair.

  Wyatt chuckles and adjusts me, so I’m draped over his lap. “You’re even hotter when you’re falling into my arms.” He moves my hair and mumbles into my neck, kissing a path to my shoulder. I move so he has better access to my neck as he trails kisses up to my ear. As soon as his lips brush my earlobe, a shudder runs through me and I sigh a little loud. I squeeze my thighs together to relieve the pressure building. Wyatt laughs against my skin, and I do it again.

  “Stop laughing at me.” I push his face away from my neck and turn to catch his lips with mine. His arms come around me and he pulls me to him, kissing me harder.

  “I feel overdressed.” Wyatt backs away from my lips and scoots me to the end of his lap so he can unbutton the two buttons of his shirt and tug it over his head. He throws it on the papasan chair in the corner. I run my hands up his rippled abs to his pecks and over his shoulders. Holy sexy muscles, Batman. He smirks when I let out another embarrassing sigh. “We staying here or taking this to the bedroom?” His hands roam my skin, making it hard for me to concentrate on what he just asked.

  “I don’t care,” I breathe out when he kisses me again. He slides me down onto the futon and stands, leaving me chilly without his heat. I start to pull one of the ten blankets off the back to cover myself, but Wyatt grabs my chin, making me look at him and I freeze. His hand leaves my face, but I don’t move while he slowly unbuckles his pants, dragging the zipper down, and shifting them down his hips. Snug gray boxer briefs mold to his erection, barely covering it with the band. I lick my lips and his abs ripple when he laughs. I shoot him a glare, lean forward, and tug down the band of the boxers, freeing his erection. He reaches for my chin, but I dodge his hand and wrap my lips around the head of his cock, sucking it deep into my mouth until it hits the back of my throat.

  “Holy shit.” His hips thrust toward me, and he plunges his hands into my hair, bracing himself when I do it again. I swirl my tongue over the tip and suck him back in. He doesn’t force me, but gently guides me up and down his shaft, groaning at every pass. I run my hands up his thighs to grab his amazing ass. My nails curl into his cheeks, and he pulls my mouth off his cock by my hair. I try to pull him back, but he tips my head back to look at him.

  “Stop.” I tighten my grip on his ass.

  “You keep going and this isn’t going to last much longer.” Wyatt untangles his hands from my hair, grabs my shoulder, and eases me back on the futon until I’m lying underneath him.

  “I’m not done with you.” He kisses my lips, my chin, my neck, my chest. My heart rate kicks into overdrive when he pulls the lace cups of my bra down to expose my breasts to the cool air. Wyatt methodically licks each one, and I moan. He kisses a trail between my breasts, down my stomach, to the lace of my panties. One hand kneads my right breast, the other hand works my panties until they are around my ankles and I kick them off,
not caring where they land. He peppers kisses from my knee to my pussy, leaving me breathless. Wanting more. Needing more.

  I throw one arm over my eyes when he spreads my legs farther, dragging his tongue up and down my thigh.

  “Oh god,” I breathe the words.

  “You okay up there?” Wyatt rolls my nipple between his fingers and my hips buck when he licks up my pussy, drawing a circle on my clit.

  “Sure.” I moan the word and he dives in full force, licking, kissing, sucking. With his body wedged between my thighs, and one hand on my breast, I’m at his mercy. Wyatt has my orgasm building low in my stomach before I know what hits me. He keeps licking, sucking, until my hips are moving in time with him, riding his face. The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, rolling through me. I grab his hair with one hand, the arm rest over my head with the other and buck my hips into his face as my world shatters into a million fragments of bliss. Wyatt eases me back to reality, kissing up my stomach to my face, sending aftershocks of pleasure through me.

  Wyatt kisses me hard, leaning to the side until he nearly falls to the floor. “Fuck.” He fumbles wildly with all the clothing in the floor.

  “What are you doing?” I laugh, kissing his jawline.

  “Condom,” he grunts and finally pulls his wallet up to my face, lying on his side in the sliver of space next to me, and opens it. He digs around until he pulls out a foil wrapper and tears it open. I watch him roll it on and my core clenches in anticipation. The wrapper goes flying over his shoulder and he rolls back over me, hovering with one arm braced next to my head. “You sure?” He looks me in the eye, and I reach down and grab his ass, pulling him toward me, but he stops me. “I need to hear it.”

  I glare at him. “Fuck me already.” I dig my nails into his ass, and he nudges my knees apart, lowering himself until his cock is grazing my entrance. Wyatt eases inside me, torturing me slowly, kissing me, and driving me mad. I growl in frustration and he plunges the rest of the way. I moan and throw my head back.

  “Fuck!” He slams his hips against mine, kisses me, and slides back out, very slowly. This earns him another growl and he gets the message. With a last kiss to my forehead, he adjusts himself over me and sets the perfect pace, slamming into me, hitting every spot and making me moan with each thrust. I grab for the armrest again, bracing so I don’t hit my head. My second orgasm doesn’t sneak up, it builds slowly, edging me toward oblivion. Wyatt keeps eye contact with me, the muscles in his shoulders tensing with each thrust. A shimmer of sweat builds on his brow. My breath becomes ragged, gasping, and I can’t keep eye contact any longer. I let them flutter closed, grabbing at his arms, looking for something to ground me as my orgasm mounts.

  “I’m going… Oh god,” I moan, head thrown back, and he picks up the pace, hitting the right spots over and over as my orgasm washes over me, drowning me in ecstasy as he comes to his own climax over me. Wyatt slams into me one last time with a long, deep groan, and his arm trembles beneath my hand before he collapses next to me, balancing on the edge of the futon.

  “Holy shit.” He breathes out the words into my hair. Both of us are covered in sweat, panting, in a satisfied heap on the futon.

  “Wow,” I mutter, brushing my damp hair back from my face.

  I use what little muscle strength I have to scoot over, giving him a little more space. Wyatt immediately takes it, keeping his body pressed against mine. He buries his face in my hair, kissing my head and draping an arm over me. “You okay?”

  “I’m more than okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” I shift toward him, making my hair drag across his face until I bundle it up behind me.

  “I’m hoping you are, but never want to assume.” Wyatt pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the couch. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and stands. I get an amazing view of his biteable ass. I turn to grab it, but he moves out of reach, looking back at me with mischief in his eyes.

  “Bring that back here.” I reach again, he steps over, and off the couch I tumble. I hit the floor on my face, with a thud, naked. Several blankets I keep on the couch come with me, stuck to the sweat on my back.

  “Jesus, Noralee!” I can feel him trying to pull a blanket off, but I’m rolled in it.

  “Just leave me here to die.” I push myself up, fighting with the blankets. He’s still trying to pull on them and I realize that he was probably getting up to get rid of the condom which means if someone were to walk in right now, we would look like a hot mess. I heave myself up on the couch, sit, and cover my face with my hands. The blanket is still partially wrapped around me. I feel Wyatt’s weight drop down next to me and the futon shaking. I can’t hold it in anymore and start laughing with him, not daring to uncover my face. Last thing I need him to see is me doing that weird embarrassed laugh-cry thing I do. I’ve fallen in front of him so many times in a week but doing it naked makes it so much worse.

  “I’m gonna give you a minute.” He laughs through the words and stands up, heading down the hall to the bathroom. I hear the door click and manage to uncover my face. I clean up my eyes, pile the blankets where they go, and gather all the discarded clothes. I stack his neatly on the back of the couch and take mine to my room. I can hear the water running in the bathroom as I pass to put on something comfortable. By the time he appears from the bathroom, I’m in my favorite Disney Villain pajamas, pouring our discarded beer down the sink. Wyatt grabs his boxers, steps into them while still walking and comes to wrap his arms around me at the sink.

  “Hi,” I whisper, turning in his arms to throw mine around his neck.

  “Hey,” Wyatt whispers back, leaning in to kiss me. He starts slow, his full lips pressed into mine, moving with me. Then he lifts me by my ass on to the counter and I wrap my legs around his waist. His tongue teases my lips and he slides his hand up to cup my breast, kissing me like he needs me to breathe. One hand in my hair, the other on my breast, his mouth on mine. If he keeps it up, we’ll end up naked again.

  I finally push off his chest. “Are you trying to kill me?” I turn my head when he tries to kiss me again.

  “Maybe. Death by sex sounds amazing.” He gives me a look that says, ‘you know I’m right’ and I shrug.

  “I prefer to die from embarrassment immediately after sex. That’s just how I roll.” My eyes avoid his.

  “Did you get hurt?” Wyatt tips my chin so I have to look at him.

  “Only my pride, Officer Collins. Only my pride.” I pull my chin from his hand, my face burning hotter the longer he looks at me.

  “You need bubble wrap.” He shakes his head and helps me down from the counter. “Please tell me you’re as tired as I am.” I nod, and yawn. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  I start to walk out of the kitchen and make it almost to the hall when I realize he isn’t following me. When I turn to see what he’s doing, he looks a little confused, standing between me and the kitchen island. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes,” he says firmly, coming toward me with the sexy confidence he normally exudes. I push my door open, throw myself on the bed, and scoot so he can have the other half. He sits on the edge and hesitates before lying back on my pillows.

  I move toward him, expecting him to lift his arm and let me rest on his chest. “Do you not want to stay? You don’t have to.” Do I want him to stay? Yes. Am I going to be upset if he doesn’t? Only a little.

  Wyatt turns on his side to face me, mirroring my pose. “I do. I just don’t want you to feel like I have to.” He sighs. “I haven’t slept with anyone in a long time, so I’m not sure if it’s still expected that I spend the night.”

  “It’s not expected I don’t think, but it’d be nice if you did,” I explain. “How long is a long time?” It’s been at least two years since a guy I was sleeping with stayed over. And that wasn’t a super serious thing. I reach over and brush my fingers down his shoulder and arm to his hand. He tangles his fingers with mine.

  “Six years, maybe seven.”

  “But Cruze is four.” I know I�
�m better at math than that. Wyatt moves in closer and I reach behind me to hit the switch on the wall, careful to not fall again. The only light comes from the hanging lanterns and fairy lights in the back corner, casting a light blue glow on his face.

  “Yeah, I know.” He studies my face and leans in to kiss me.

  “How does that work exactly?” I ask, lying down on the pillow and snuggling in. He does the same and pulls me closer, resting his chin on top of my head. I breathe in his scent and sigh.

  “I’ll tell you later. I promise.” Wyatt wraps me in his arms and stills. I wait until his breathing evens out to close my eyes and, for the first time in years, I fall asleep without the Doctor’s adventures playing in the background.

  14

  Noralee

  When I wake up next to Wyatt, it is nowhere near the position we fell asleep in. He’s facing the other direction; I’m playing the big spoon in the scenario and my Dark Crystal quilt is over both of us. Wyatt snores softly next to me and I take advantage of the situation. I close my eyes, breathe in his scent, and stay as still as possible. I’ve never been a relationship person. I was a massive nerd in school, back before being a nerd was cool, so I only hung out with other nerdy people. I had a guy here or there who thought it was okay to date the nerd girl, but I pretty much stuck to Rae, Tuesday, and Greer. In college I had a guy that I slept with a handful of times and I could call to go get drinks with, but by junior year he found a real relationship. Since college, I’ve had a casual thing with two whole people, but those fizzled fast. Wyatt came barging in a whole ten days ago, and suddenly, I can see myself in this situation more than casually. His phone lights up on my nightstand and I glance at it. I don’t mean to read it, I really don’t, but my brain processes the words. It’s a text from Pops telling him Cruze is up, but to take his time, no rush. I roll away from Wyatt’s back and ease out of bed, stopping by the bathroom first, then going to the kitchen. Something about the reminder of Wyatt’s responsibilities to Cruze makes me unable to settle down enough to doze back off. Wyatt and I haven’t had a conversation about our relationship, not even the monogamy talk, but it’s early in the game. Really early. If the time comes for that talk, I need to be ready to accept the fact that he has a little human depending on him and what that would mean for me. I have no idea what to do with kids, I’ve not even been around them enough to decide if I like them or want my own someday. I know I like Wyatt enough to spend time with his son though, so there’s that. Instead of dwelling on what ifs, I decide to make breakfast.