Page 88 of Tempting Wyatt
My eyes plead for him to stay, but my heart expects him to leave.
I start to close the door. “I get it. A rancher’s work is never done.”
Wyatt’s hand and boot stop the door from closing. “Get some damn pants on before I lose my fucking mind,” he growls on his way inside.
I want to do a happy dance, but being as my butt cheeks are already mere centimeters from exposure, I restrain myself.
We make our way to the bedroom, and he yanks a drawer open, pulls out some dark gray sweatpants, and tosses them to me.
I catch them and grin. “Relax, rancher. You act like you’ve never seen a half-naked woman before.”
He arches a brow. “If a woman gets half naked around me, she’s getting the rest of the way naked and all the way fucked.” He moves into my personal space. “You looking to get fucked, Hollywood? Is that what you came here for?”
I scoff. “You carried me here, caveman.”
It wasn’t exactly like I sauntered over, looking to ride his dick.
“To Montana, Hollywood. Did you come out here, looking for a cowboy to ride?”
I contemplate telling him what led me here. But he’s seen enough of my messy life for today.
“No,” I say, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “But I’m sure Isaac would be more than happy to help if I did.”
He smirks.
The next thing I know, I’m airborne and bouncing on the enormous mattress that smells exactly like him. I inhale deeply before I can stop myself.
When I glance up to see if he caught me sniffing his bedding like a weirdo, I meet his gaze. There are flames dancing in his eyes. Not from the controlled burn.
There’s nothing controlled about him right now. He stalks to the edge of the bed, and I realize what’s happened.
I’m on my back, still pants-less, with my legs slightly parted.
Thank goodness I shaved earlier. Being bared to him like this sends a thrill through my entire body. He looks like a rabid wolf, about to eat me alive.
A girl can dream.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he says between gritted teeth. “Not right now, when I have to get back to work soon. But you had a bad dream, and I can make you feel better.”
As deflated as I am at his declaration, I’m curious about the second part of his statement.
I let my legs fall open a fraction wider. I still get a thrill from riling this man up. “And how do you intend to make me feel better exactly? Gonna read me a bedtime story?”
Strong fingers shackle my ankles and yank me to the edge of the bed. Where he drops to his knees, nearly giving me a stroke.
This powerful, commanding man on his knees for me almost makes my heart stop dead in my chest. Before it takes off like a hummingbird.
“Yeah,” he says gruffly while spreading my legs and suctioning his hot, wet mouth to my inner thigh. “It’s about the big bad wolf.”
He open-mouth kisses the flesh on my left thigh, then repeats the action on the right one.
“Wyatt,” I whisper, pleading. Needy.
My clit throbs as he places gentle kisses all around it while trailing a long, masculine finger gently between my seam.
“Perfect fucking pussy,” he says low against my skin. “Always so wet and ready for me.”
I whimper at the sensation of his warm breath against my sensitive flesh.
