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mouth away and swatted at my hands until I let go. “Oakley. As much as I want this”—he looked down at the hard cock straining between us—“and I want this very badly, we can’t. You’re drunk.”

My head was swimming, but my lady parts knew what they wanted. I held up my finger. “I’m not and I can prove it.” I whipped out the breathalyzer from my pocket and blew on it, holding the screen up to him to prove I was below the limit.

He rolled his lips in and took a deep breath. “Oakley.”

When I was little, I wanted a flashlight just like my daddy’s. My parents wouldn’t buy me one, saying I was too young. For whatever reason, I was desperate for the flashlight. So, one night, after they thought I was asleep, I crept out of bed and took Daddy’s flashlight from his duty belt on the kitchen table. Cop flashlights were heavy and long, too much for a mere toddler. I ended up tipping it off the table, unable to catch it since it was so heavy, and the end bopped me in the mouth. Mom found me crying and lectured me on chipping my tooth. I’ll never forget her saying how just because you want something badly, doesn’t mean you should get it.

Thing is, I wanted Wyatt so badly I was willing to chip every single one of my teeth to get him. Guess I didn’t quite learn that lesson.

I took a step closer, our bodies not quite touching, and looked up at him. “Wyatt. I’m finally ready to admit it. I need the real thing and you’re gonna give it to me.”

His eyes changed and the heat pouring off him intensified. His jaw clenched and the first flutter hit my pussy.

“Fuck yes, I am.”

Wyatt grabbed me to him, the breathalyzer falling to the ground while his mouth ravaged me. His hands went everywhere; under my shirt, down the front of my shorts, and then under my thighs to lift me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight. His hair felt like heaven between my fingers, the scrape of the scruff on his chin sending goose bumps down my arms. Finally being able to touch him felt so illicit I couldn’t seem to take a full breath.

He spun us around and took a few steps into his living room. Our heads popped up long enough for me to see he had one recliner and a television on the ground.

“Where’s your furniture?” I asked, desperate for a flat surface somewhere. Anywhere.

Wyatt only grunted and spun around again, practically running into the kitchen instead. He set me on the kitchen island, pulling his mouth away to whip my shirt over my head.

A horrifying thought occurred. “Oh God. I must stink from playing baseball.”

Wyatt made a noise in his throat that sounded like a growl. “Don’t fucking care.”

Then his mouth was on my collarbone, his lips plucking his way down to the bra I never would have worn if I knew I’d end the night here. I’d gotten dressed thinking of playing baseball. He unclasped the back and suddenly the bra was gone. I didn’t have time to worry about it because his lips were back on my skin, his tongue flicking my nipple and making me writhe on the granite countertop.

Wyatt pulled back, his eyelids drooping, his hair a mess from my hands. He pushed me gently and I lay back on the island, doing something I rarely did. I surrendered to him. I gave him my body to do with what he wanted. He didn’t waste time, unzipping my shorts and pulling them down my legs. He pulled off my shoes and socks and then stood back, arms crossed. I felt his gaze like a caress.

“Fuck, Oakley,” he muttered. He leaned back in, his hands resting on my knees. “You’re goddamn beautiful.”

The compliment sent a burst of warmth through me, but then he roughly spread my knees apart and wedged his body between my legs. His fingers traced the tattoos on my hips. A holstered pistol on each side like I imagined Calamity Jane or Annie Oakley would have had.

“I thought I saw these that night.”

He was referring to when he saw me getting off to porn. My hands covered my face, embarrassed anew.

He tugged at my wrists until I met his gaze. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?” I whispered.

He let go of my wrists and trailed both hands down my body, a thumb ghosting over my underwear. I shivered, wanting more of his touch.

“Knew you had all this passion bottled up underneath the ice-queen exterior. Knew that I wanted you. Knew that if I got to experience that side of you, I’d be the luckiest damn man alive.”

I sat up quick, grabbing his face and kissing him before I could let something leak out of my mouth. Something that would betray exactly how much I felt for him. He kissed me back, lazily exploring my mouth like we had all the time in the world. I wasn’t even fully naked yet, and this encounter was lasting longer than any sexual exploits in my past.

Wyatt’s hands started plucking at my hair, the ping of a pin hitting the hard floor here and there before he finally got the hair tie out. He pulled back from the kiss and let my hair tumble down past my shoulders. It was probably a total disaster after the day I’d had, but the way he was looking at me, I felt more beautiful than I ever had before.

“That’s what I wanted to see,” he murmured, sifting his fingers through my hair.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t hold back and savor every second like Wyatt seemed to want. Instead, I reached down and grabbed his cock, making him jump and finally release my hair.

“Jesus, Oakley.”

I lifted an eyebrow, biting back my smile. “I saw something I wanted.”

“Oh, you want

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