Page 117 of Playing for Keeps
She looks up at me, the bouquet clutched to her chest, and her cheeks flushed. “I swear, I wasn’t trying.”
“Maybe it’s fate,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist and kissing her temple. “Not that I needed a bouquet to tell me.”
Her eyes soften, and she rests her forehead against my chest. “God, I hope we find a way to make this work,” she whispers.
I hold her tighter. “We will, baby. We already are.”
Ivy
It’s late by the time Wyatt and I slide into the back of an Uber, heading toward my place. I’m exhausted in the best kind of way. Today has been everything. Emotional, unforgettable, life-changing. Watching Paisley get her happy ending after everything she’s had to overcome felt like watching the universe finally get something right. She deserves every bit of that happiness, and so does Nash. Their day was perfect, and I know it was everything Paisley ever dreamt of.
“Ready for bed?” Wyatt asks as we walk hand in hand into the house.
“Yes,” I say, my voice soft. “But I’m suddenly not that tired.”
I close the door behind us, locking it with a quiet click before slipping my fingers through his again and leading him upstairs.
He pauses as we reach my room. “You’re sure?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
Instead of answering straight away, I push open the bedroom door and tug him inside. “I’m sure.”
Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s just him, but something gives me the confidence to reach for the zipper at the side of my dress and slowly ease it down. Wyatt doesn’t take his eyes off me as the fabric slips to the floor, leaving me standing in nothing but a strapless white bra and matching panties.
He closes the space between us in two long strides, his hands finding my waist before sliding up to cup the back of my neck. “Jesus, Ivy… do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine, hungry and intense, his kiss setting my whole body alight. He grazes my bottom lip with his teeth, and I gasp, opening for him, our tongues tangling together.
My hands fumble with the buttons on his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. I tug it free from where it’s tucked into his pants and glide my hands over his chest, his muscles flexing beneath my touch. He exhales sharply, his breath ragged against my lips. Sliding my hands up his chest, I push the shirt off his shoulders, watching as it falls onto the floor.
Wyatt laces his fingers through mine and takes a few steps back, gently tugging me with him as he climbs onto the bed. He guides me down beneath him, his body settling over me as his lips find mine in a slow, tender kiss.
His mouth begins a trail of soft kisses, moving from my lips to my jaw and down my neck, each touch igniting sparks across my skin. Heat gathers low in my belly, spreading like wildfire with every breathless kiss.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, his finger trailing over the edge of my bra.
I nod and lift up slightly, his hand going behind my back and undoing my bra. He slowly peels the material from my body, his gaze hot with desire.
“Jesus, baby. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I slide my arms around his neck, tugging him closer. “So are you,” I murmur before lifting my chin and capturing his mouth with mine. I kiss him like I need him to breathe, and he answers with the same urgency, like he’s been waiting for this as long as I have.
His mouth leaves mine, grazing along my jaw and down my neck, his tongue flicking across the rapid beat of my pulse. He moves lower, his lips and hands exploring, until he draws one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking softly. A gasp escapes me, my back arching in response, and I feel heat coil low in my stomach, my breath catching as my clit pulses with need.
With his mouth still on me, one of his hands slides down my body, his fingers edging the lace of my panties. I lift my hips in a silent permission for him to remove them, desperate for his touch. He drags his mouth from my nipple and pulls them down my legs, tossing them on the floor with my bra.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes locked on mine, searching for any flicker of hesitation.
He won’t find any. I might be nervous, but more than that, I want this. I want him.
“I’m good,” I whisper, and I mean it.
His gaze lingers a beat longer, like he’s taking me in, before his hand slides lower, making my breath hitch. His touch is slow and deliberate, drawing a soft moan from my lips. My back arches instinctively, and my hands grip the sheets as his fingers tease and explore.
His lips brush my ear, sending a shiver down my spine, and he presses a kiss just below it before whispering, “You’re so ready for me, Ivy. I can feel your walls pulsing around my fingers. I can’t wait to slide into your wet heat.”
“Wyatt…” I breathe, his words igniting something deep inside me. I never thought I’d like hearing that kind of talk, but coming from him, it completely unravels me.
When his free hand finds my breast, his fingers tease and roll my nipple, and it’s enough to send me over the edge. A moan escapes as my body trembles through the release, waves of pleasure crashing over me. He doesn’t stop, drawing it out until I finally melt into the sheets, breathless and completely spent.
