“Teach me, please.”
Wyatt folds over, bringing his head down to meet mine. He presses a swift, punishing kiss to my lips before widening his stance slightly and pulling his pants down. As soon as his penis, no, this is not the time to use that word — his cock — is free, I lean forward eagerly.
“Slow down, baby. Take your time.”
Confused, I look up. He takes my hand and brings it to his base. “Squeeze gently, like this.” I let him show me, but I’m a fast learner and soon I take over. This time when I lean forward, he doesn’t stop me, and I open my mouth to lightly lick the smooth underside of him. The barbell glints at his tip. I’m intrigued as to what that will feel like in my mouth, but first I need to taste more of him. Wrapping my lips around him, I slide his dick in just a bit.
“Damn,” Wyatt gently grips the back of my head, not forcing me at all, just holding me. Emboldened, I take in some more of him, calling on all of the romance novels I’ve read for guidance. But when I try to take him in further, he stops me. “The piercing, baby, it won’t feel good if you take me too far.”
His consideration at a time like this is touching, and only serves as motivation for me to do the best I can. My hand finds its way up to the back of his thigh, and I move back in, slower this time, until I find my comfortable limit. The barbell hits my throat, and I gag slightly and pull back. He’s right, it doesn’t feel good if I go too far. But this isn’t about me, it’s about him. Forming a little suction with my lips, I suck my way to the tip of him until I feel just his crown in my mouth. Then, experimenting, I swirl my tongue around the underside of the crown before lightly flicking the piercing. His head falls back against the shelves as he lets out a barely human sounding grunt.
I’m overwhelmed by how powerful I feel in this moment. It’s a heady sensation, knowing he’s at my mercy. My hands and mouth start to move in tandem as I suck him back in again, feeling myself start to relax and enjoy what we’re doing.
“Paige. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.” Wyatt’s voice is ragged, and when I cast my eyes up, I see his muscular chest heaving. It’s so erotic, I feel my own arousal mounting. His hands come to my shoulders, and I sense that he’s trying to let me back away, but I don’t want to. “You don’t have to —”
I shake my head and continue. Moments later, Wyatt is shouting my name as hot, salty liquid shoots down my throat. I gag but force myself to swallow. It’s most definitely not my favourite experience, but Wyatt’s enjoyment is evident, and that’s enough for me to keep going. When he finally sags back against the wall, I let go of him and self-consciously wipe the corners of my mouth. Wyatt’s hands come under my arms and he hauls me up to standing with arms that seem surprisingly shaky.
“Fucking hell.” He pulls me in for a deep kiss. “Paige, baby, that was…fuck.”
“I trust that means it was enjoyable?” I ask, needing the validation.
Wyatt lets out a choked laugh. “I can barely formulate a complete sentence, baby. That’s how good it was.”
Inwardly I preen, beyond pleased that my first provision of oral sex was a success.
“Come on. Let’s finish up here so I can take you home and repay you for that spectacular experience.” Wyatt straightens and slides his hand down to thread his fingers with mine. He lifts, pressing a remarkably sweet kiss to the back of my hand. “You’re incredible, Paige. Absolutely incredible.”
Wyatt’s sweet, romantic words touch a part of me I’ve always ignored. And for good reason — this part of my heart is vulnerable, unguarded, and inexperienced. Which is why I find myself wondering if what he says could ever be enough. If I could ever be enough. Because reality does not escape me. Wyatt does not live here, and eventually he will leave.
The question remains, will he take my heart with him when he goes? I suppose it is possible. There’s no denying my feelings toward him are growing stronger every day. I want him to see me, all of me, not just the parts I share with the world.
Walking behind the counter, I press a few buttons and soon, “A Case of You” starts to play through the speakers.
“Is this Joni Mitchell?”
I nod, secretly pleased that he recognizes the music. Not everyone knows the iconic Canadian singer from the ‘70s. The fact that he does warms my heart. “Yes, she was my grandmother’s favourite. I like to listen to her music while I tidy up in the evenings.”
Wyatt inclines his head to me with a soft smile, and we work quickly to finish cleaning up from the orders we put together. I’ll stop at the post office tomorrow morning to send them; for now, I’m eager to go home as well and see what else is in store for the evening.
I don’t realize I’ve started to move until I startle at the feel of hands on my swaying hips. Lips caress my neck, leaving whispers of heat in their path.
“Watching you move like that is giving me ideas. I’ve never seen you dance before.”
My hands come up to rub my upper arms. “I…I don’t dance.”
“Tell that to those gorgeous hips of yours that were just tempting me with their sway.”
I come to a stop, feeling the heat explode across my cheeks. He’s teasing. Just teasing. But all it seems to do is underline the differences between us. He’s passion, sensuality, freedom. I’m, well, I’m not any of that.
“Paige?” Wyatt turns me in his arms, and I meet his concerned gaze.
“It’s fine. I’m fine, just a little embarrassed, that’s all.”
His lips meet my forehead in a soft kiss. “Baby. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Seeing you relaxed, knowing that you feel that way around me, it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”
My nervous tension melts away underneath his touch and his words. “Thank you,” I say quietly.
“Now, can we finish up and then go to my place? I want to make you dinner.”
