Page 107 of Making the Save

“You think you can hold out?” His eyes took on a devilish gleam.

Wyatt Locke would always accept a challenge.

“I want you inside me when I come,” I groaned. I loved the sound he made when he was coming. That bass note. That song. My body squeezed around his fingers.

“Then you’ll do it twice for me,” he muttered. “You’ll do it as many times as I want you to.”

Five was my limit. We’d hit that at the cabin one rainy day when there’d been nothing to do but eat snacks and screw each other blind.

His mouth sucked on me and his fingers worked me from the inside. It was bliss and I was humming as the pleasure built.

I tried to hold out but it was useless. That delicious endless muscle stretch of my body, that sensation of having all the breath sucked out of me and breathed back into me at the same time. The pleasure was one thing, but almost better was watching Wyatt. He dropped my thighs from around his shoulders and came up on his knees, his fist around his erection as he stroked himself.

He reached down to the bed and grabbed the sweats he’d worn into my room and pulled out a condom.

“You were planning this,” I said.

“I was praying for this,” he said.

I watched as he worked it over his cock. Briefly, I remembered how I felt after I’d gotten one of those birth control shots. How awful it had been, but maybe there was a better alternative now. A pill or different prescription that wouldn’t be so bad. Something that would allow me to take him inside with nothing between us. Skin to skin and everything that meant.

Then it all came back. This was over. He didn’t want me forever.

A gasp left my throat as the grief pierced right through my soul. He pushed deeper and deeper and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, I pressed my face into his neck, his beard there to soak up the tears.

His hand was braced on the bed’s headboard and I knew what that meant. Knew it was going to be rough and hard and fast, so I held on for dear life and focused on the sensations, instead of the feelings.

“Fuck baby, the way you take my cock so deep,” he groaned. “I want all of you.”

“You have me,” I whispered into his ear, tears running down my cheek. “All of me.”

For now. Only for now.

It was a drumbeat I had to endlessly hit, so I wouldn’t forget. His other hand wrapped around my ass. He’d been getting bolder down there, teasing me for something else to come. His middle finger pressed ever so gently against my back hole like this dark secret we were sharing between us, without ever saying the words.

I bucked up into him hard, and immediately felt my second orgasm overtake me.

“Yes, baby, yes.”

He hammered into me, quick hard thrusts until I could hear him come. Felt his body tense all around me. Pressing my face deeper into his neck and his beard, I bit down on the skin there, just a little, and thought about how I would never have believed it possible to have an orgasm, while crying.

The Next Day

My beach bungalowwas jammed with people. Hair, make-up, a manicurist. Francine and Beatrice. Beatrice asked once about Tyler and when I told her I fired him she patted me on the shoulder.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she said in her posh accent and I was proud of myself all over again. Truthfully, as soon as I fired him, I felt better. Lighter. More myself. I understood why I kept him around, not just because I was conflict averse, but he created the box I thought I was happy in. The box I thought I deserved.

“Indeed,” I said, copying Bea’s accent.

Wyatt came out of the bedroom, hair rumpled, grumpy.

Beautiful.

I had to turn away because I knew I couldn’t hide all my feelings.

“Ready to be a star?” Beatrice asked him. He looked around at all the people and the fuss. I expected a growl, some Wyatt like grunt.

“Let’s do it!” he said, clapping his hands together. I thought maybe it wasn’t just me. Maybe we’d both grown a little over the last few weeks. Come out of our comfort zones.