Page 98 of Sutton's Shadow

The knife embedded in her had missed her heart by inches. She’d had to have surgery to remove the tip that had snapped off when the blade had struck her clavicle.

She continued to have the same dream since that night. The knife flying through the air, the red bloom erupting from Wyatt. It was always Wyatt who was struck, never her.

She didn’t remember much about what happened after the knifing, but she did remember the words she’d uttered. They had been remarkably identical to the ones Wyatt had said in that first dream she’d had all those weeks ago. It was eerie and continued to disturb her sleep. Hence why she was watching the dawn rise.

She and Bethany had spent a lot of time together, crying, hugging, and talking, with Wyatt hovering protectively over them. She’d apologized to the girl for getting her into so much trouble, which Bethany promptly rejected, saying there was nothing to forgive. It was nice of Bethany to say, but she still felt that twinge of guilt. Wyatt’s words that day still sliced her up.

Sutton had apologized to Wyatt as well. He’d stubbornly refused to listen to her. Instead, he’d insisted she forgive him for his words. She wanted to forget them, but she’d heard them so many times before that they stayed with her, making her doubt every action she’d ever taken.

The sliding glass door opened, and Wyatt stepped out onto the deck. As always, her heart gave a little leap at the sight of him. The gray Henley he wore fit tight around his broad shoulders and torso. The well-worn jeans were snug, accentuating his hips and muscular thighs. His limp was more pronounced since his battle to free her, and Sutton hated that he’d been injured because of her.

He made her lean forward as he slipped in behind her on the lounger, his sturdy legs bracketing hers. She relaxed against him as his arms wrapped around her. His lips landed on her head as she snuggled into his warmth.

“Hey, shutterbug.”

She winced at the name. She had been growing to like the moniker, but now it made her cringe. He must have sensed her tension. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m thinking of hanging up my shutterbug persona,” she confessed.

“What? Why?”

“It’s not worth it anymore. Not when so many people have been hurt because of it.”

“Baby, no. That’s not true at all. You’ve saved people. If you hadn’t taught Bethany everything you knew, who knows where those girls would be today. You gave her just what she needed to trust her instincts when they told her something wasn’t right. And because of that, we were able to bring down a child trafficking ring that had been operating for years without anyone realizing what was happening.”

“But Bethany got hurt.”

“And she’ll heal. She’ll be the first one to tell you the benefits are worth any bruises she might have received. Miss Letty has taken Lia and the other girls in, and they’re being showered with the love they should have had from the start.”

Miss Letty was the elementary school principal who wore cardigan sweaters and tennis shoes that resembled Mr. Rogers, her idol. She was the grandmotherly type the entire town thought of as their own. She hadn’t hesitated to open up her home to the girls, and CPS moved her foster application through the works quickly.

“And that group Dylan knows is already working on finding the rest of the missing girls. That’s huge, and it’s all because of you. What you do matters. I’m sorry I lost my temper when Bethany was missing. I let my fear for her override my common sense. I’m proud of what you’ve taught her. I’m proud of you. I love you, shutterbug. Please don’t quit because I’m an idiot.”

Those words seeped under her skin and wrapped themselves like a warm blanket around her heart. She tilted her head up to look at him. “Do you mean it?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, and the dimple appeared. “Every word. I love you, Sutton Masters.”

“I love you too, Wyatt Tinsley.” His midnight eyes flared with a combination of relief and desire before he crushed his mouth to hers. Without breaking contact, she twisted around to straddle him, careful not to jostle her arm that was still in a sling. Pressing her core to his already hard cock, she smiled at the groan that rumbled through him when she jerked her hips, the sound sending tingles through her body, straight to her core.

She broke the kiss to nuzzle his neck, eventually sliding her lips up to his ear. “I want you,” she breathed as she reached between them to rub her palm over the bulge in his pants. She needed this. Needed him. He hadn’t done more than give her quick pecks on the lips all week, afraid he’d hurt her. She was done with that.

He thrust into her hand once before his hands landed on her hips, holding her still. She nearly growled in frustration at the thought of him backing off again. “Wyatt, please,” she begged.

His hands left her hips to slide around, grasping her ass. He squeezed her before standing abruptly, if a little awkwardly. Managing not to drop her, he left the lounger and carried her into the house. She feasted on the skin of his neck as he walked. Her tongue shot out for a taste when he was halfway up the stairs. He stumbled but kept his grip on her solid. Then he took the remaining steps two at a time, and before she knew it, he was carefully laying her on the bed.

He followed her down, his mouth plundering hers like a desperate man. “Clothes. Off. Now.” She giggled at his raspy demand but did as he commanded. She got to her knees and removed her sling. He helped her pull her sweater off so she wouldn’t have to move her arm too much. Her bra came next.

He stood beside the bed, watching her with heated longing. She flicked open her jeans and slid the zipper down. Feeling naughty, she stuck a finger into her mouth and sucked. Then she ran it down her body into her pants. She widened her legs, giving herself more room as she slipped her finger between her folds. Hitting her clit, she moaned.

His jaw hung open, and his midnight eyes darkened until she couldn’t discern iris from pupil. She toyed with herself, thrusting against her hand while watching his reaction. As another wanton sound slipped from her lips, he lost it.

He grasped her behind her knees, pulling her legs out from underneath her until she landed on her back. She ignored the slight twinge of pain in her shoulder, too happy to be getting naked with her man finally. Then he tore her pants off, throwing them over his shoulder. Her panties went flying after them. She continued to play with herself while he shucked his own clothes.

Once naked, he grabbed her hand from between her legs and sucked her finger, wet with her lust, into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digit, cleaning it of all her juices. He groaned, as if sampling an elixir from the gods.

Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around his cock, which jerked as soon as her fingers touched him. Swiping her thumb over the tip, she spread the drip of pre-come around. Wyatt removed her finger from his mouth with a pop before grabbing her hand and removing it from where she pumped him.

She was about to voice her displeasure when he dropped to his knees, pulled her to the edge of the bed so that her feet hung over, and buried his face in her pussy. His tongue swiped through the wetness she’d stirred up with her ministrations. She arched her back, thrusting herself into his mouth with a moan.

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