Page 207 of The Reason I Married Him
I cover my hand over my face, my nerves ripping through me but my courage peaking as I open the bathroom door and bring my dirty clothes into the room. I deposit them by my bag, take a few more deep breaths, and then, on shaky legs, I move toward the hallway, where I catch Wyatt slipping into his bed. His muscular body flexes and retracts as he slides under the sheets. What I wouldn’t give to feel his body, to explore it, to hear him moan the same way he did when my mouth was dragging over his cock.
And that’s all the ammo I need to propel myself forward. I step into the doorframe just as his eyes connect with mine. His face draws into concern. “Everything okay?”
Twisting my hands together in front of me, I ask, “Please feel free to say no, I won’t be offended at all, but, um . . . do you think I could sleep in here with you?”
His brow perks up. “Yeah, of course.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re probably excited to have a bed to yourself.”
“Babe, you can sleep with me anytime.”
And that’s the last bit of courage I need as I move toward the bed. Since it’s pushed up against the wall, Wyatt gets out and lets me slide in before he slips under the covers again.
“Thank you,” I say. “Strange place and all.”
“I get it,” he says as he turns off the nightstand light, casting the room into darkness. “Do you want me to hold you?” he asks.
“Only if you’re comfortable,” I answer, this conversation between us far too polite for two people who just got married.
“I’m comfortable,” he says as he moves in behind me, and then to my surprise, he slips his hand under my shirt and presses it against my bare stomach. Immediately from the warmth of his palm, a tingling sensation strikes up between my legs. My shirt ishiked up, I’m not wearing underwear, and I can feel his arm and body pressed against mine.
It makes my nipples hard.
It makes my skin tingle.
And it makes me feel like I have the power to move forward.
To make a move.
So I turn my head, lean back against him just slightly, and grip the back of his head, bringing his mouth down to mine.
Nerves rip through me as I lightly kiss him. It’s short, sweet, and to the point. A simple good night kiss. When I pull away, I whisper, “Good night, Wyatt.”
“G-good night,” he stutters, making me smile as I rest my head against the cushiony pillow.
As I sink into the mattress and grow more comfortable, I feel his chest take a few deep breaths, which could only mean one thing . . . perhaps I turned him on.
Perhaps there is hope, so I wait a few more seconds, and then I lean against him again, twisting my head and reaching for his. Once again, I bring his mouth to mine. On a sharp inhale, he kisses me back. This time, his hand that’s on my stomach floats up right below my breast, but before he can touch it, I pull away.
“Night, Wyatt.”
He swallows loud enough for me to hear. “Yeah . . . night,” he says, sounding flustered, which makes me smirk to myself.
I wait a few more seconds, eager to see if he makes a move, but when he doesn’t, I know I’ll have to go in again.
So I twist my head just enough, pull on the back of his one more time, and when I bring him down for a kiss this time, my mouth parts and my tongue slips into his mouth. He groans as his hand slides up to my breast, and he lightly brushes his thumb across my nipple.
My entire body heats from the touch, and I quickly pull away before it goes any further.
But it’s too late because I can feel his erection pressed up against my backside.
He’s turned on.
But so am I. That one swipe of his thumb has me already wet and wanting so much more. But I really want to see what he does, so I curl into my pillow, and I remain like that, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself.
And I wait.
And wait . . .
