Page 117 of The Hearts We Fumble
“Lie back,” I command, my voice rough. “Spread your legs for me.”
She exhales shakily but follows my order, easing her feet to the floor before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her sleep shorts. She lifts her hips, pushing them and her panties over the curve of her ass and down her thighs, letting them pool on the floor.
Then she settles back, her legs falling open—laid out for me, just like I asked.
A deep growl rumbles in my chest as I drop to my knees between her parted thighs, my fingers digging into them as I take in the sight before me.
Fuck, she’s glistening. Slick with need, her body begs for me without a single word spoken.
The hunger inside me snaps.
I shove my underwear over my hips and wrap my hand around my length, groaning as I fist myself once. But it’s not enough. Not when she’s spread out in front of me like this, aching and waiting.
I lean in, swiping my tongue over her slick folds, and she gasps, her back arching off the bed. Her fingers twist into the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.
My phone vibrates in my pants pocket, the buzzing loud in the quiet of the room before a sharp ring pierces the air.
I ignore it. Whoever it is can wait.
Brushing my fingers through her wetness, I press a single digit inside her, curling just enough to make her whimper. Her hips lift instinctively, silently begging for more.
“Lift your shirt,” I order, my voice thick. “Let me see those perfect tits. Play with them for me.”
Wyatt bites her lip, dragging the hem of her tank top up and over her chest, exposing every soft curve, every dip and swell of her body.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
The sight of her—flushed and panting, curves spread out beneath me, fingers teasing her own nipples—only fuels the fire licking through my veins.
I lean in, pressing another slow kiss to her inner thigh before looking up at her, a wicked grin tugging at my lips.
“You have no idea what you do to me, firecracker.”
I slide a second finger inside her, curling them just right, brushing against the sensitive spot that has her arching off the bed. Her slickness coats my fingers as I lean in, my tongue flicking near her entrance, craving a taste.
Then my phone starts ringing.
I ignore it, but Wyatt murmurs breathlessly, “Do you want to answer that?”
Cursing under my breath, I pull my fingers from her, already irritated with whoever is interrupting. I blindly feel around for my phone, swiping the screen without checking the caller ID.
“Yeah?” My voice is gruff, edged with frustration.
“Well, hello to you too, ya prick.”
A grin tugs at my lips as my brother’s voice filters through the speaker. “You caught me at a bad time. Kind of busy.”
“Aren’t we all?” Miles chuckles. “Just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing.”
I grunt, pushing to my feet. Wyatt props herself up on her elbows, her eyes locked on me. I’ve lost my underwear at this point, standing completely naked between her thighs, but I can’t take my eyes off her—the way her skin glows, the way she watches me with hunger in her gaze.
“I was doing great,” I say, gripping myself absently, “up until you called.”
“Well, all right then, asshole. I’ll let you go. Tell Wyatt I said hi.”
Wyatt presses her lips together, stifling a laugh. Probably because she can hear every word—and probably because my dick is in my hand while I’m having this conversation.
“How the hell do you know about Wyatt and me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
