Page 85 of Win Big

“Awwww fuck.” Her tight heat around me is unbelievable. I lean back against the wall and plant my feet into the floor, holding her butt with both hands to bounce her on my dick. She cups my face and kisses me, although the jolting motion of her body makes it hard. Breathy whimpers and moans fill the steamy air as we move together.

“You’re so strong,” she gasps. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Hell yeah.” I pause. “Areyou? Can you come this way?”

“I... think so.” I watch, fascinated, as she closes her eyes, a little crease between her eyebrows, a look of intense focus on her face. A few seconds later, her fingers dig into my shoulders, she lets out a high-pitched wail and clamps around me.

“Ah yeah, baby, that’s it... Christ, I’m coming too...” I shout as heat explodes in my center, zipping up my spine, burning in my chest. My balls squeeze, pleasure slamming through me as I burst in long, nearly painful spasms.

“Wyatt . . .”

I gasp, “What?”

“We didn’t use a condom.”

“Aw, shit.” My lungs are still heaving, desperate for air.

“It’s okay . . . I’m on the pill. But . . .”

“It’s okay. I’ve been tested. All good.”

“Okay.” Relief lightens her voice. “Me too.”

“Sorry.” I kiss her forehead and slowly lower her to the floor. “So sorry.”

“We’re good.” She smiles. “So good.”

17

EVERLY

After our shower,I pour us each a glass of Cabernet and we cook dinner together, making a stir-fry with the chicken and vegetables from my fridge. Then we settle on my couch, a fire crackling in the fireplace and my TV turned to a Netflix show neither of us has seen. It’s so easy and comfortable and... right.

I try not to hyperventilate.

My Instagram and Facebook posts have gotten a ton of attention, unusual for me. I know it’s because of Wyatt being tagged in them. He’s got a way bigger social media following than I do. I rarely post pictures of myself; I prefer to keep my life private. Or as private as I can, given who my family is. So I guess our outing was unconventional but it accomplished a purpose.

It also accomplished me having all the feels about Wyatt. Inside, I’m a swirling maelstrom of emotions, many of which I can’t or won’t identify. He keeps surprising me. He may be a vagina hunter, and he may give off attitude like he doesn’t give a shit about anything, but he has a romantic, almost poetic streak. Up there in the hills, with those amazing views and gusts of air scented by the sun-warmed grass and earth, he seemed as moved by it all as I was. It was an incredibly sensory experience that soothed something inside me and yet excited me too, and Ifelt a connection of spirit I don’t know if I’ve ever felt with a man before.

This was alarming!

So I also have nerves jittering in my belly, which is pretty normal for me.

After three back-to-back episodes of the TV show, we call it a night.

“You have to work tomorrow.” Wyatt picks up our wineglasses and carries them into the kitchen. “I’ll head home and let you sleep.”

“Damn.” I make it sound like I’m joking, but I’m sort of not.

He laughs.

I follow him to the door and we spend long moments kissing good night, which doesn’t help my disappointment that he’s leaving. I’m turned on and breathing hard by the time he walks out the door with a promise to talk soon.

I drift back into the kitchen to slide the glasses into the dishwasher, my body humming, my mind teeming with images and sensations, my chest full of cotton candy.

I float up the stairs like I’m filled with helium.

God. I need to get a grip on my emotions. I need to settle down and be smart about this whole situation. It was supposed to be a media stunt, go on a few dates, make sure people know we’re seeing each other. That’s it.

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