Page 76 of The Hearts We Fumble
She bites her lip and nods. “I told you I saved you some of that cupcake, but I really meant I made some for you. I figured I owed you after missing your birthday two years in a row.”
I glance down, taking in the four cupcakes neatly arranged in the box, each one spelling out my name.
My chest tightens.
“You did this for me?”
“Of course I did.” Her smile is warm, soft, and just like that, I’m fucking done for.
Wyatt has always put thought into her gifts. The kind that lingers and means something. The year she surprised me with a photo album full of pictures from our summer camp trip. The time she somehow got a signed Travis Kelce jersey and enrolled me in a skills camp going into my sophomore year.
It was never about the cost. I grew up in a house where money wasn’t an issue. But Wyatt? Shesawme. She cared in a way no one else ever had.
And I hated that I had to lie to Colter and tell him the jersey was from my dad because I couldn’t explain why his little sister would go to so much effort for me.
My throat tightens, and the words slip out before I can stop myself. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
Her eyes widen slightly, and I brush my thumb along her cheek, tilting her face up before lowering my lips to hers. She melts into me, her body pressing against mine as I slide my tongue along her lips, deepening the kiss.
A soft moan escapes her, and I swear I almost lose it right here in a dimly lit parking lot at the end of October.
I growl against her lips, forcing myself to pull back. “C’mon, baby,” I murmur, grabbing her hand and taking the box from her. “Let’s get out of here.”
Wyatt slides across the bench seat of my car, pressing into my side, her warmth bleeding into me. Her fingers rest on my thigh, just shy of where my jeans are straining against my growing erection.
I grip the wheel tighter, pushing the speed limit the whole way home, desperate to get us there before I lose all self-control.
As soon as I pull into the driveway and cut the engine, I turn to her, my breathing ragged, my control hanging by a thread.
I don’t have to go any farther to finally have her.
She’s already mine.
I slide my hand between her and the seat, my fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, into the heat of her panties. My palm molds over the curve of her ass, squeezing just enough to make her squirm.
“Oh fuck, Zane.” Her voice comes out breathy, her hips shifting against me. “What are you doing?”
I smirk against the shell of her ear. “What does it look like I’m doing?” My grip tightens, my fingers pressing into her soft skin as I nod to my erection straining against my jeans. “Look how hard you made me. I had to sit through dinner with your brother like this.”
She tilts her head back, glancing up at me, her pupils dark and blown wide. Without hesitation, she drags her palm along the front of my jeans, pressing against the thick ridge straining behind my zipper.
“You gonna take care of me,” I murmur, my lips brushing her jaw, “after getting me all worked up with that naughty picture you sent?”
“Take care of you how?”
The teasing lilt in her voice nearly undoes me. I study her, watching the way she licks her lips, anticipation flickering in her eyes as she waits for me to tell her exactly what I want.
“Be a good girl,” I rasp. “Unzip my pants. Take my cock out. I want to see your pretty little hands wrapped around me.”
She presses her thighs together, her breath hitching, but she doesn’t hesitate. With shaky fingers, she pops the button on my jeans, then slowly pulls down the zipper.
I help her push my waistband low enough to free my aching length. The moment she wraps her fingers around me, dragging her touch from base to tip, I hiss through my teeth. She swipes her thumb over the swollen head, collecting the bead of precum that drips from the tip, and smears it over me with a small, satisfied smile.
“Mmm,” I groan, leaning in to claim her mouth with a deep, punishing kiss. “God, that feels incredible.”
“Show me,” she whispers against my lips, her voice cracking with need. “Show me how you like it.”
I guide her grip, showing her exactly how to stroke me, but she’s already a quick study, twisting her wrist just right, dragging her hand in slow, deliberate motions that make my abs go tight.
