Page 118 of The Hearts We Fumble
“Myla may have let it slip. Don’t shoot the messenger. It was bound to happen eventually. I’m just glad it happened before you turned into an even bigger dickhead.”
Wyatt outright giggles now, shaking her head.
I exhale through my nose, dragging my palm up her thigh. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll catch up.”
Miles didn’t make it home for Christmas. His basketball schedule is brutal this time of year, making trips home damn near impossible.
“Or maybe after the season wraps up, Wyatt and I can take a trip down, catch one of your games.”
“I like the sound of that, Z. And I’m serious—you sound happy. I can hear it in your voice, and I’m fuckin’ happy for you.”
I press the head of my cock against Wyatt’s entrance, and her breath hitches. My fingers dig into her thighs as she shifts beneath me, heat pooling in her gaze.
“Thanks, man,” I say, my voice raspier than before. “Means a lot.”
Wyatt trails her fingers down her stomach, circling her clit, and I bite back a groan. Her body trembles, her breasts bouncing slightly with every breath.
I need to end this call. Now.
“Talk tomorrow,” I mutter, and before he can respond, I hang up, flipping my phone face down and shutting it off completely. Anyone else who needs me can wait.
Sliding my length through her wet folds, I grip her thighs and press them back until her knees frame her chest, opening her up to me.
I tease her, dragging the head of my cock against her entrance, and she shudders. “I love you,” I murmur, my eyes locked on hers.
Her lashes flutter, her lips parting. She reaches for me, her fingers gripping my wrist. “I love you too.”
Adjusting my stance, I hook her legs over my forearms, pinning her beneath me as I thrust deep.
Wyatt cries out, her body arching into mine.
“Fuck,” I growl, squeezing my eyes shut. “I love you—and I love this fuckin’ pussy.”
She clenches around me, a wicked gleam flashing in her eyes because she knows exactly what that does to me.
“Let me taste your nipples, baby.” She cups her breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers before offering it to me.
My restraint snaps.
I lean down, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before sucking it deep into my mouth. Wyatt whimpers, her nails digging into my scalp, tugging my hair just how I like.
The friction. The heat. The way she feels beneath me—it’s too much, too good. My thrusts turn desperate as my body takes what it needs, what it craves.
Her body tenses beneath me, her moans turning frantic. Her orgasm slams into her, and her walls tighten around me, sending me spiraling right after her.
I collapse against her, wrapping my arms around her trembling frame, my forehead dropping against her chest.
Our breathing slows. The only sound is our hearts pounding in sync, the weight of everything we’ve just said hanging between us.
Wyatt brushes her fingers through my hair, her touch gentle, soothing.
I lift my head, pressing my lips against hers once more, slow and deep.
“I meant it,” I murmur against her mouth. “Every damn word.”
Her smile is soft, her voice barely a whisper.
“I know.”
