Page 76 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

“Are you trying to say that I smell ripe, too?” I teased.

“Nope. I’m just trying to convince you to come with me,” he said in a wicked baritone as he disentangled our bodies and rolled out of bed.

I rolled onto my back as I retorted in a playful voice, “I’ll think about it. You go ahead. I’m thoroughly exhausted.”

“Then I’ll help you get there,” he warned before he picked me up off the bed.

His brute strength was so ridiculous that he made carrying a not-so-dainty woman look easy.

“Wyatt!” I squeaked. “I’ll walk. Put me down.”

Like I wasn’t going to eventually find my way to the shower if Wyatt’s hot body was in there naked?

He completely ignored my protests and carried me into the master bathroom.

“You don’t have to do a thing. I’ll be more than happy to make sure every inch of your body gets clean,” he informed me.

Images of Wyatt stroking soap over my entire body with those talented hands of his made every nerve in my body tingle.

He opened the massive shower and turned on the water.

“Only if I get to do your body first,” I told him in a sultry tone. “You’ve gotten to know my body much better than I’ve gotten to know yours.”

I ached to explore Wyatt’s nude body, and I was going to get my opportunity right now.

“I thought you were exhausted,” he reminded me gruffly.

“I think I’m getting my second wind,” I informed him as I stroked my hand down the small marks I’d inadvertently made on his back.

“Then I’m completely screwed,” he answered in a tone that was far from unhappy about my sudden recovery.

I snorted with laughter as he enthusiastically carried me into the shower.

Wyatt

“Itold you not to wait up,” I said to Shelby as I walked into the kitchen.

It was close to midnight on Monday evening.

I’d been in a foul mood when I’d walked through the door moments ago.

Urgent meetings on a product situation had kept me in the office all damn night.

Normally, I wouldn’t care how long it took to iron out an urgent problem, but with Shelby leaving for Montana early Wednesday morning, I’d really wanted to spend the evening with her.

It didn’t matter that we’d spent the entire day in bed together yesterday, barely finding time to get up to eat a meal.

I was still pissed off that I hadn’t been able to take her out to dinner tonight as planned.

I’d expected to come home to a dark house, with Shelby already in bed. She was a morning person. We usually had coffee together after I went for a run, and then she went straight to work on whatever tasks she had planned that day for her blog or her cookbook.

Instead, she was in the kitchen, fully clothed in a pair of ass hugging jeans and a lightweight summer shirt.

“You said that you didn’t have time to eat when I talked to you earlier,” she said cheerfully. “I know you. You probably didn’t make time for food after that, either.”

I hadn’t.

My meetings had gone back-to-back all evening until the issue was resolved.

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