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“Maybe. I don’t—I won’t make promises I can’t keep, Sal. But maybe.” “I’ll tak...
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“Are you doing this on purpose?” I manage. “Doing what on purpose?” He’s still smirking. “Making me blush.” “You’re pretty when you blush.”
“Stop it,” I say in all seriousness. But Wyatt is never one to be serious. “Stop what?” “Being so good at this.”
“Sugar, by the end of the night, you ain’t gonna be asking me to stop.”
“You don’t have to compliment me.” I put my free hand on my face. My skin is hot, almost feverish. “We’re not inside yet.”
“I know. But I want to compliment you. You really do look beautiful, Sal.”
Not only does she look stupid gorgeous in her dress and heels, but she also gave me space to talk.
If she looks like this, happy and bewildered and alive, after holding hands for all of five minutes, how fucking beautiful would she be after I laid her down? After I hooked her leg over my shoulder and spread her wide and made her shout my name?
But it ain’t my place to make that choice for her, is it? Choose me. Goddamn, Sunshine, I’m dying for you to choose me.
“Remember, tug on your ear—”
“If it’s too much.” Her eyes glint in the darkness when they meet mine. “I don’t think you have to worry. My current drought is so epic that I don’t think too much exists for me right now.”
“I feel like I should be worried if that’s the case.” “You worried I’m gonna climb you like a tree?” She twines our fingers again and smirks. “Remember, ...
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Why do I reach for the leg of Sally’s chair and yank her toward me like a possessive caveman, making her yelp?
Only I don’t feel very safe at all when I pat my lap and say to Sally, “Your seat is here.”
Because I’m an asshole—why not stir the pot?—I curl my hand around her hip and use it to shift her a little bit more toward the table, her back to my front. Her hand falls from my nape, but this way, I’m able to rest my chin on her shoulder and murmur sweet nothings in hear ear about gambling like a degenerate.
I bite back a growl. I’m so turned on by this woman—so fucking attracted to her—that I literally have to count cards in an effort not to get a hard-on, even though you can only
count cards when you’re playing blackjack. Whatever. Focusing on the cards is the distraction I need right now.
And then she twists her torso so that she’s sitting up a little, our eyes meeting. She lazily reaches up and thumbs the side of my mouth, like she’s wiping something away. My blood surges.
I can’t let her go. I literally can’t take my hands off of her.
“I should probably follow him though, don’t you think? I feel like I’m missing an opportunity—” “No.”
“I’m—I know I’m being weird. I just—I can’t. I can’t, Sal. I’m sorry.”
The insistent throb between my legs is evidence of just how turned on I am—was—from the way Wyatt did that thing he does so damn well: making me feel like I’m the only woman in the room.
Tonight, he made me feel like the only woman he wanted.
A beat later, Wyatt emerges from the truck. He’s still wearing his hat, and he has an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Wyatt Benjamin Rivers, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m worried about my friend, and I’m not leaving until I know what’s going on.” “Friend.” He scoffs.
He’s beautiful. But then he leans in to light his cigarette, and before I know what I’m doing I’m ripping it out of his mouth.
“What does that mean?”
“Means I don’t love pretending to date you.”
“I hate the idea of it—you going home with him. I got no right to say it, but it’s been eating at me all night, and I—trust me, I know what I agreed to. I want you to get what you need, Sally. But the thought of you goin’ to someone else to get it…”
“That don’t sit right with me.”
Does he really want me the way I want him? “Wy,”
“Yeah.” His reply is equally soft. Equally scared. “I know you and me can’t happen, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about it all
night. Longer’n that, if I’m be...
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“Thinking about…” “Don’t make me say it. You know, Sunshine. You know I wanna be your guy.”
“I forget how to kiss. Wait, scratch that. I know how to kiss, but I don’t know how to quiet my mind and just…get lost in the moment. Get lost in the kiss. I could use some practice.”
“Are you serious?” “I mean, I feel like I can get by.” A nervous chuckle. “But I wouldn’t say I enjoy it—” “Just getting by is depressing.”
“Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?”
“Assume that the answer’s no before you even ask the question. Ask the damn question, Sally.”
“Ask.”
“Kiss me?”
“I…want to feel something. I want to feel like time has stopped and I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Like I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, because the experience of the kiss is so freaking delicious. I want to fall into it. I just…yeah, I want to feel.”
“Ah. So you just want transcendence, then.”
“Lucky for you”—oh God, oh God, Wyatt is slipping a hand onto my face, using his palm to angle my mouth up toward his—“I’m tight with God, and I’ll have you saying his name often. Eventually though, I’d like you to say mine instead.”
“Look at you, telling me what you like. Good job, Sunshine. Let your body keep talkin’ to me, yeah?”
This. This. This is what I want—to be with a man who knows how to kiss. To be with Wyatt Rivers, his hands all over me.
Wyatt Rivers is hard for me. “Sunshine, I got three legs right now.”
“You keep this up, I ain’t gonna be able to stop.” “What if I don’t want you to stop?”
“I’m not fucking you for the first time in the front seat of my truck.”
I am so fucking obsessed with you it’s not even funny.
