Page 18 of Beautiful Butterfly

“I need you to get back in your seat,” Wyatt growled through gritted teeth. He looked as if his control was hanging on by a thread. The tips of his canines were visible under his top lip. Wyatt glided his tongue over them then expelled a grunt. “If you don’t move right now, I’m going to yank the back of your shorts down and bury my dick in your sweet ass. I would prefer not to since we’re in public, but the part of me that demands I keep things respectable is seconds away from being shut down.”

“You have to let my arms go if you want me to move.” Alister wished like hell there was a stray breeze. His entire body was covered in sweat, his hair matted to his scalp.

After another grunt, Wyatt removed his hands. Moving across the console wasn’t as easy as when he’d been yanked over it. His knee whacked the storage compartment between the seats, and his right butt cheek honked the horn. Then his ankle became stuck on the gearshift.

Wyatt helped Alister until he was clear of the obstacles. Now Alister was on his knees in the passenger seat and facing away from the windshield. He twisted around and finally plopped down.

“Please turn on the car before I drown.” Alister rested his forehead just above the vent and closed his eyes as sweat trickled down his scalp and back. He released a happy groan when cold air blasted him in the face.

“Give me your keys so I can start your car.” Wyatt closed the windows of his Charger, but it would take some time to cool off the interior.

Alister didn’t care. He pressed one cheek against the slats, and then the other, his palms resting on either side of the vent. Frigid air never felt so good. If he could, he would drape his entire body over it.

“Keys?”

“They’re in the cupholder.” Alister pressed the top of his sweaty head against the vent, shivering as the cold air spread over his scalp and down the back of his neck. “I was so excited about the bakery and hanging with Paris that I forgot to grab them.”

Thank god his cock was no longer hard and throbbing. Alister couldn’t believe he’d been ready to ride Wyatt’s dick while they were parked on Main Street. In broad daylight no less.

He lifted his head when he heard Wyatt get out and watched his mate walk around the hood of the car. There wasn’t a tent in the front of his shorts like Alister feared there would be. His gaze switched focus, and he wondered if Wyatt knew just how scrumptious his firm, muscled tush looked swathed in the silky fabric.

Just as Wyatt opened the driver’s door of the Mercedes, two elderly women strolled by, their arms entwined, chatting and smiling like the dearest of friends.

If they’d walked by five minutes earlier, they might have gone into cardiac arrest at seeing Alister trying to drive Wyatt’s cock into his ass—though they’d both still had their shorts on.

When Alister looked to his right, his mate was staring at the women as if the same thought was going through his head. Wyatt glanced at him, and Alister mouthed, “You started it.”

His mate smiled provocatively and winked. The naughty flirt was purposely teasing Alister, knowing full well the effect he had on him.

Now images of Wyatt spanking him crowded his mind. He could practically feel the tingles igniting over his backside as he pretended to be outraged.

Alister would be hard again if he didn’t focus on something else. The bakery. The open sign still hung in the door, though he didn’t see anyone inside. Kayla’s terrified face popped into his head, and Alister’s guilt overrode his lust.

Feeling the need to check on her and try to make things right, Alister got out of the car and stepped onto the sidewalk. Past the window he saw her leaning toward the counter, a pen in her hand as she wrote. A small display next to her prevented him from seeing what she was writing on.

“Only if you’re ready,” Wyatt said from behind him, resting his hands on Alister’s hips. “No shame in walking away, butterfly.”

“I don’t know if seeing me will upset her.” Kayla had been through a terrifying ordeal, and Alister worried about causing her more distress.

“I’ve known her for a while,” Wyatt said. “She’s a sweet girl with a kind heart.”

Alister took a step forward then stopped when the memory of Sloane emerging from the side of the fridge gripped him. In that moment, there hadn’t been a doubt in Alister’s mind that Sloane had won. That the wolf shifter would finally have his auction.

It wasn’t until Sloane fired his gun at Paris, but missed because it was only a warning shot, that Alister snapped out of his crippling fear and tried to end the sick bastard to keep Paris safe.

Alister couldn’t bring himself to enter the bakery. Not because of Sloane, but because he didn’t want to relive the crushing sorrow and anguish he’d felt when he thought Paris had been shot and killed.

“I-I can’t.” Alister spun and raced to his car, trying but continually failing to grab the handle so he could open the stupid door. Firm hands gripped Alister’s upper arms and spun him around, and then he was crushed against a warm, solid chest.

Closing his eyes, Alister sank into Wyatt’s embrace, the feeling of safety surrounding him as he soaked his mate’s strength into his trembling body.

“Tell me what you need from me, butterfly,” Wyatt murmured.

“I need ice cream and laughter.” Alister rested his palms against his mate’s chest and felt how hard his nipples were. Lifting his head, he gazed into Wyatt’s gray eyes. “Then I want you to park your car in your garage so I can climb onto your lap and impale my fabulous ass on your cock.”

Wyatt’s chest rumbled with purr. “Let’s go get some fucking ice cream.”

Chapter Six

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