Wyatt: I’ll be there in twenty.
I set the phone down and looked at myself in the mirror. Hair still damp from the quick shower I'd taken after washing the smell of antiseptic and animals off my skin. No makeup. Jeans that fit well and a soft flannel shirt, I left unbuttoned enough to be interesting.
I looked like myself. Strong and a little rough around the edges. Exactly how I felt.
When Wyatt's headlights swept across the front windows, my stomach tightened with anticipation, not anxiety.
I met him at the door, pulling it open before he could knock.
He stood on the porch, hands in his pockets, and his gaze did that thing it always did, moving over me, reading me, making sure I was okay. But this time, when his eyes met mine, something shifted in his expression. Like he could see exactly what I was thinking.
"Hey," he said, voice low and a little rough.
"Hey, yourself," I answered, and stepped back to let him in.
Wyatt crossed the threshold, and I caught the scent of him, cedar and cold air, soap and something underneath that was just him. He showered too. Changed into a clean shirt. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, and his hair looked like he'd run his hands through it a few times on the drive over.
God, I wanted him.
He turned to face me, starting to ask if I was okay, but I didn't let him finish.
I stepped into his space, reached up, and pulled his mouth down to mine.
Wyatt made a surprised sound against my lips, his hands moving to grip my hips, but he didn't hesitate. He kissed me back like he'd been thinking about it just as much as I had,his mouth hot and certain, his fingers tightening on my waist.
When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"I don't want you to go home tonight," I said, looking him straight in the eye. "I want you to stay. In my bed. With me."
Wyatt's gaze darkened, his pupils blown wide. "Tessa.”
"I'm not asking for permission," I interrupted, my voice steady. "I'm telling you what I want. And if you want it too, then stop looking at me like I might break and kiss me again."
Something flashed in his eyes, heat and hunger and something almost like relief.
"I'm not worried you'll break," Wyatt said, his voice dropping lower. "I'm trying to make sure I don't mess this up."
I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the soft cotton, feeling his heart beating fast under my palms. "You won't mess it up. I know what I want, Wyatt. I've known for days. I just needed to be sure I was doing this for the right reasons."
"And are you?" His hands flexed on my hips.
"Yeah." I met his gaze without flinching. "I'm doing this because I want you. Because I've been thinking about your hands on me and your mouth on me and what it would feel like to let myself have something good without overthinking it to death."
Wyatt's breath left him in a rush. "Jesus, Tessa."
"So stop being careful with me," I said, rising up on my toes so my mouth was almost against his. "I'm not fragile. I'm healing, and there's a difference."
His hands slid from my hips to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him, and I could feel every hard line of his body against mine.
"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said against my mouth. "Any time. Any reason?"
"I will," I promised. "But I won't need to."
I kissed him again, harder this time, letting my teeth catch his bottom lip. Wyatt groaned, low in his throat, and his control slipped just enough that I felt it, the want he'd been keeping leashed, the desire he'd been holding back out of respect for my boundaries.
I wanted all of it.
My hands found the buttons of his shirt, and this time they didn't shake. I worked them open with steady fingers, revealing his chest inch by inch. Tan skin. Defined muscle. That scar near his collarbone I'd noticed before and wanted to trace with my tongue.
