Page 61 of Stealing His Cupcake
Wyatt’s voice takes on a darker edge. “Amy. Get inside that car or I’ll spank you right here on the spot. And you can bet Geraldine is probably watching us from her window right now.”
“Okay.” Not wanting to get spanked, I hurriedly sit behind the wheel. Or maybe that’s because how wet I suddenly am? Would I actually like getting spanked?
You absolutely would. Not in front of that old witch, though.
I shake my head as if that could dispel the voice. I’m already not normal for liking a killer and not really minding what he does. There’s no way I’m adding liking spanking to that list.
After shutting the door so I can’t escape, Wyatt rounds the car and gets in on the passenger side. I stare at the big wheel in front of me, terrified to touch it even though the car isn’t moving yet.
“Push your seat forward until you can comfortably reach the pedals,” Wyatt instructs, showing me various levers I can use to change the seat’s position. When he’s done, I can actually see the road from where I sit, so that’s good, I guess? “It’s automatic,” he explains, “so you only have two pedals.”
I only have two legs. How many of the damned pedals should I have?!
“You also don’t have to worry about changing gears.”
“I have no clue what that even means,” I wail. “I really don’t want to crash your car.”
Wyatt rolls his eyes. “You won’t crash the car, cupcake. It’s easy, really. A person with one arm and one leg could drive this comfortably. You’ll do fine.”
I’m not sure how the number of limbs translates to operating a vehicle, but it’s not like I’m being given a choice. “What if there’s another car? Or the police? Or-or a bear?! What do I do if there’s a bear?”
“You wave at him. If he’s wearing a hat, you hide your picnic basket. Bears like that are notorious for stealing picnic baskets. Calm down, Amy.There will not be a bear, or any other car, police or otherwise. We’ll just slowly go back to our house and—”
“I am NOT parking in the garage!” The thought of having to enter the narrow opening right next to Wyatt’s sports car nearly has me fainting on the spot.
“You don’t have to. Just stop in front of the house, okay?”
Yeah, or run through the wall. Jesus. Looking around Wyatt, I realize he was right. Geraldine is indeed watching us with rapt attention. When she waves at me, I wave back weakly. “What’s with Geraldine’s book club?” I ask Wyatt in a last-ditch attempt to put off the inevitable car crash. “It sounded…”
“Naughty?” Wyatt laughs. “They read smut.”
I choke on a gasp. “They read what now?!”
“Romance with lots of sex.” Wyatt shrugs. “I joined them once or twice when a book caught my attention, but it was just weird discussing my favorite sex scenes with raunchy ladies that could be my grandmothers.”
“Weird. Uh-huh. Yeah. That would definitely be…weird. So—”
Wyatt gives me a stern look. “No more stalling. Now, here’s what you’re going to do.”
Chapter 44
Amy
Imanagednottocrash the car. Small miracles, right? Or a really big one, in my case. Wyatt rewarded me by teasing me with my new magic wand until I thought I’d spontaneously combust and then fucking me like a savage, essentially rendering me a boneless, sweaty heap when he was done. In turn, I made him spicy muffins and a batch of croissants for tomorrow’s breakfast. Then we watched Price of Passion, comfortably cuddled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. It was a picture-perfect evening, and the only thing I regretted was that I couldn’t share it with my best friend. Not to brag, but to simply show Kayla I’m happy and she doesn’t have to worry about me.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. Our peace is interrupted at 2:30 AM when Wyatt’s phone beeps. It’s a soft sound I would have ignored but since Wyatt’s phone hasn’t made a single noise ever since I got here, I’m instantly on high alert. Rightfully so, because Wyatt immediately grabs the device and, after studying the screen for two whole seconds, jumps out of bed.
“Something wrong?” I ask blearily as I flick on the lamp. Blinking in the sudden light, I watch Wyatt hurriedly put on clothes. When he starts putting on sheaths with knives, I swallow roughly, knowing there’s trouble even before he grabs his gun.
“Stay inside,” he orders. I quickly nod, not even thinking about disobeying him because, for one, I’m not an idiot, and two, this isn’t my Wyatt. This is that cold, detached version of him. The one who didn’t even blink when cutting off Turbo’s fingers or snapping his neck. This is the killer Wyatt, and he’s out for blood. “I mean it, Amy,” he says, a flicker of emotion appearing in his eyes before the darkness extinguishes it again. “No matter what you hear, do not leave the house.”
I nod again. “I won’t. Don’t worry about me. Just be careful, okay?”
His expression softens a little as he leans in to kiss me. “I will.” No sooner does he straighten up than his ruthless mask is back on. I’m not afraid of him, though, because I know my Wyatt is in there somewhere. I’m afraidforhim, even after he pulls an actual bulletproof vest over his head. “There’s one for you too,” he says, pointing to a box he pulled from under the bed. “Guns, too. If there’s trouble, put a vest on, grab a gun, and shoot anyone who isn’t me. Understand?”
“Okay,” I reply warily, though even the thought of picking up a weapon scares me. I don’t think I’d be able to actually fire it at someone.
Even if it meant saving your life? Or Wyatt’s?The voice snickers.You’d pull the trigger without a second’s hesitation, girl.
