Page 124 of Altius
“Mhm.” I squirted a healthy dollop of lube into my hand. “I might need a lot of extra care, but I give as good as I get.”
“I’ll say.” Wyatt crawled over to me, leaning down to claim a deep kiss before whispering hopefully, “Tits?”
Holding his gaze, admiring the desirous mist swirling along the edges of his irises, I spread the cold gel between my cleavage.
Wyatt straddled my chest, watching with surreal adoration as I pressed my breasts together, encasing his cock in their softness.
“I don’t believe this is real,” he murmured. “Any of this. Kissing you this morning, touching you…” He cupped my cheek. “Or right fucking now, when you look like absolute sin.”
“Me either,” I agreed. “So, we’ll just have to make each other believe it.”
“But—but how?”
“Step one,” I said with a wicked grin. “Move those hips, cowboy.”
The ever-accommodating Wyatt complied—and then some.
Twenty-Nine
Morgan
The next week was a surreal, blissful blur.
Every morning, I woke up to kisses from Wyatt. Then we worked out together in my gym and shared a quick shower. He wasn’t a breakfast person, but he’d eat some oatmeal if I bribed him with gobs of maple syrup and candied pecans.
We filled our daily commutes with random questions and laughter.
In the evenings, he followed me home for dinner. Cal joined us when he could, eating alpha-sized portions of the larger meals Kelsey started preparing unprompted. That meant there was plenty to go around if Jacobi stayed in for the night, or when the smell of crockpot beef stew lured Joaquin and Alijah to our door, looking like a pair of starving Victorian orphans.
The next night, Alijah invited us to dinner at their place. Between bites of spaghetti with homemade Bolognese sauce, he and Kelsey decided that group meals would be a regular thing moving forward.
My evenings didn’t change much. I spent them in the library nest, with either Cal or Wyatt working beside me. The space wasn’t big enough for three. At least we all fit on the mattress in my nest.
The cats weren’t thrilled by the group sleepovers. Kip took a few nights to find his preferred perch: a mound of extra pillows in the corner, where he could keep a watchful eye on me while I slept. Tenny, meanwhile, resigned himself to wriggling in wherever he could fit, even if it meant suffering the indignity of touching Cal.
But I couldn’t pretend things were perfect.
Wyatt had a serious problem with insomnia. I often woke to find him sitting in one of the cushy accent chairs in my nest, scrolling through his phone in the dark, trying his best not to disturb us.
He’d tiptoe back to bed before five-thirty and pretend he’d slept fine, even when the bags under his eyes rivaled Cal’s.
That was a whole other mess entirely.
The Verray situation was sucking him dry like a capitalist vampire. He was fine at work if he drank enough coffee. In the evenings, he was constantly on his phone or darting off to answer his father’s summons to the family compound.
On the nights he spent with me, Cal slept like the dead, which made me worry he wasn’t sleeping at all otherwise, just running on caffeine and spite. He was determined to get Heather the VP job, no matter what.
“It’s not fair,” Cal grumbled Thursday morning as he followed me and Wyatt toward the elevator. “He’s spent every night with you this year.”
I scoffed. We were only nine days into the new year.
Wyatt hiked his stuffed duffel bag higher on his shoulder and shook his head. “No, what’s not fair is that I have to spend the next three days chaperoning, coaching, and being a responsible adult while you monopolize her.”
“If you don’t like the time-share arrangement,” I said, pressing the call button and shooting a sarcastic look over my shoulder, “we can renegotiate…to zero.”
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Wyatt murmured, sliding a hand over my hip as he pressed against my back, nuzzling my neck. “We’re perfectly content—”
Cal grabbed the strap of Wyatt’s duffel and yanked him away. “Yes, very content. Even if some of us are still struggling with the rules, like no scent-marking before work.”
