Page 91 of Strike Zone

My muscles tighten and I groan out her name. She slides her hands up and down my thighs as her mouth swallows every last drop from me.

When I’m done, she silently tucks me back into my briefs and buttons my jeans. I wipe the moisture from her eyes and fix her hair back up in the messy bun thing she had earlier. “Birdie.” I pull her in my arms and kiss her soft and slow. She clings to me like she’s desperate for me.

“Wyatt,” she pleads with me.

“Do you need me to take care of you?” I kiss her down her neck and bury my face in her chest. “Did sucking my cock get you all worked up?”

She nods and scrapes her nails down my back.

“Come on. I can’t do what I want to do to you in here where anyone can walk in.” I take her hand in mine and start walking us out of the barn. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Fuck no! But the next time you do that, I want you naked and sitting on my face.”

“You’re pretty confident there will be a next time.”

I stop in my tracks halfway to the house. “Did you not like doing it?”

“No. I enjoyed it very much.”

Such a Wrenism. So polite. I enjoyed it very much. “Anytime you want to enjoy yourself, the pleasure is all mine. But now, the pleasure will be yours.” I race us back to the house, passing my brothers on the way.

“Where’s the fire?” Colt asks.

“Probably going to have another one of their talks. Is that what you’re doing, Wren?”

“Yes. Very important things to discuss. Probably need to have the same conversation two or three times.”

“For fucks sake,” Colt curses. “This is too much information!”

“See you at dinner,” she says with a wave.

God, I love this girl.

The thought should freak me out. Weeks ago it would have. But fuck, I really do love her. She’s nothing like me, but fits me perfectly. She pushes me and challenges me.

I love her and it’s going to hurt like hell to let her go in a few months.

24

WREN

“Are you alright? Your eyes are leaking,” Lenny says. She’s cuddled up with me on the couch. We’ve been here most of the afternoon researching ideas for her outdoor play area and drawing out plans. Now we’re watching one of her favorite princess movies.

“I’m fine, Lennon. I’m happy for her,” I say, referring to the princess who’s flying around the sky on a magic carpet. That seems to satisfy her enough to focus on the television again.

I’ve watched this movie more times than I can count when I was a kid. It’s always been one of my favorites. I don’t ever remember crying when the prince pulls up on a flying carpet offering to show her a world of shimmering stars and wondrous places.

Being here in my own new world. Having a man open my eyes to new things.

I don’t know how I’m going to leave. I…

Sucking in a ragged breath, I let another tear fall.

I know I have to go. I have things I need to deal with. A pending engagement. An engagement I don’t want, but I don’t know how to get out of it without knowing the ramifications of saying no.

If Fred Abbott is capable of blackmailing his own son, what could he do to my dad?

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