Hisfingers moved over my bare skin thanks to my crop top shirt, but he wanted morethan the slim strip of skin I offered freely. He wanted everything. And as hishands slid upwards, over my ribs, against the edge of my bra, I made anotherone of those sounds, inviting him to explore and discover and keep doing whathe was doing.
Hetrailed kisses over my jawline, nibbling on my earlobe, driving me absolutelywild with searing anticipation.
“Wyatt,”I gasped as he kissed down my throat, spending significant time along mycollarbone and the place just below my ear.
“Kaya,”he rumbled, teasing me.
Thetiniest slice of sanity returned. “What are we doing?”
Helifted his head, his eyes pitch-black with lust, a smile playing on his fulllips. “I’m worried that it’s not obvious to you…”
Icouldn’t help but laugh. “I mean with…” I wiggled a finger back and forth,“us.”
Thelook in his eyes faded, turning careful and guarded. “Is there an us?”
Slappinghis shoulder, I let him know that I was frustrated with him. “Wyatt, you tellme!”
Hepulled me against him again and I had to work to swallow. His body was so hard,so completely unyielding. Every single part of him. He was temptation and sanctuaryall at once. He was irresistible and addicting and looking at me like I was thesame thing for him.
“Kaya,I like you,” he said in a voice that was as rich and decadent as chocolateganache, just like his eyes. “And I think you like me.”
“Irrelevant,”I growled. “That doesn’t explain what we’re doing. Secretly making out?Wandering around markets baring our souls to each other? What is happeningbetween us?”
Hissmile returned, and it was enough to send my heart into overdrive. “I’d hardlycall having a normal conversation baring our souls. And, I’m happy to make outwith you in public places if you’re tired of the secrecy.” I opened my mouth tocall him an idiot, but he cut me off. “My point is that I think we both likeeach other and that maybe we should see where this goes. Maybe there’s enoughbetween us that we should explore it.” His fingertips glided over my ribcage,finding their way to my back where he splayed his huge hand over my spine.“Explore each other.”
Sex,my brain told me immediately. He wanted sex.
Andokay, fine. Maybe I did too.
“Thisis a bad idea,” I whispered, too far gone with desire to put any realconviction behind the truth.
He shrugged.“I like bad ideas.”
Holdinghis gaze, I said, “We have that in common.”
Hishead dipped, readying to kiss me again when a voice called out from severalfeet away. “Wyatt Shaw, what are you doing to that poor girl this early in themorning?”
Insteadof his lips, his forehead dropped to mine and his eyes slammed shut. I watchedwith no small amount of fascination as his entire face turned red.
“Hey,Jo,” he called back.
Awcrap.
Finally,he pulled away, exposing me to the most terrifying woman in all of creation. “Kaya,is that you?”
“H-hi,”I croaked. “Hi, Jo.”
Sheshook her head, apparently disappointed in both of us. I felt thirteen again,when I’d been caught making out with Danny Brayburn in the fellowship hall ofour church by Mrs. Minch, the seventy-year-old organ player.
Josnorted. “Did you only come out here to make a spectacle of yourselves? Or areyou going to buy some produce?”
“Thatone,” Wyatt said, clearing his throat and fidgeting. “The, uh, second one. I’dplanned on saving the spectacle for after.”
Itwas my turn to turn the color of a ripe strawberry. Jo let out a shockedcackle. “Then let’s get this over with so you can get back to it.”
Joturned and marched off to her stand while I tried to catch the shrivelingpieces of my dignity. Wyatt turned back and grinned at me. “You heard her,let’s get this over with so we can get back to it.”
Hegrabbed my hand and pulled me after him. “Not happening,” I hissed at his back.“That was the last time.”
