Bet on Me (3 page)

He licked and kissed his way down her chest, where her dress made the most of her small assets. “Need this.” He scraped his teeth over the slope of her breast, and she jumped.

“Wyatt. I’m working.”

“
You
need this.” He raised his head until his gaze locked with hers. Those black eyes were glittering feverishly, almost glazed over. “Say the word. Or we fuck here. Now.”

The word. Their safe word, which thus far she had used exactly once, during a bout of overly energetic sex that had resulted in a leg cramp.

So she knew what the word meant. The word meant he would stop on a dime and let her return to the regular world, no questions asked, no hard feelings, no crankiness. She could walk out the door and rejoin the people milling around outside and commence worrying about her career and her life’s work.

Or…

Her stomach clenched, her nerves morphing into a dark excitement. “It’s wrong.”

His hand slid down her hip, wrinkling the pristine fabric. “So it’s perfect.”

“Wyatt…”

He passed his hand over her leg and pushed the skirt of her dress up. The silk slithered over her leg until his palm met bare thigh. “Hot damn. I love your body.” His hand squeezed her thigh, as if testing it for jiggle.

“I’ve gained weight since I started living with you, you know,” she admonished.

“Not at all.”

The man had made it his goal in life to get her to eat whatever it was he deemed a sufficient quantity of food. Once she'd accused him of trying to fatten her up so he could eat her.

He'd thrown her on the bed. And eaten her. “I have,” she insisted.

“But I give you such a workout.”

Those so-called workouts left her too satisfied to roll out of bed and make it to the gym. All she wanted to do was lie around and eat chocolates. So she did. And the scale went up. “Cardio only.”

“Maybe for you. Holding you down while I fuck you is killer strength training.”

“I should hold you down while I fuck you next time.”

He stroked his hand up her leg, his fingertips finding the lips of her pussy, the thick digits catching the hairs there. “Good luck with that.”

She pushed her hips the slightest bit forward. “We shouldn’t.”

“Mmm.” His finger flirted with her pussy. “You don’t sound sure about that.” Wyatt’s words were absent, his eyes on his hand between her legs. “Spread those thighs for me.”

Against her better judgment, she obeyed. His middle finger sank inside her.

She choked out a laugh. “Casanova. I feel like we’re back in that old Honda of yours and you’re wooing me into giving you what you want.”

“I did some fine work in that Honda.”

“But only with me,” she said archly. He had been a senior when they met, and she knew he’d had girlfriends before her, but they’d mutually picked each other’s cherries.

“Of course. You inspire me.” His lips teased hers, the delicate touch a sharp contrast to the thick finger buried unmoving inside her pussy. He liked to kiss like this, bare brushes of his lips against hers, not because he wasn’t eager to taste her, but because he liked it more when her hunger eclipsed his and she forced a deeper touch.

He’d started like this the first time in the backseat of his Civic, though then it hadn’t been deliberate, but a sign of his nerves and uncertainty. He'd leaned in a bit, and she'd cradled his cheeks and brought him closer, both of them clumsy and filled with hormones, nervous someone would discover them parked on the side of the road.

She’d slipped her tongue inside his mouth, and he’d grown bolder, drawing his hands up from her waist, palms brushing the sides of her breasts. It had taken multiple make-out sessions before she could convince him deepening that illicit touch was okay.

He was comfortable reading her silent cues now. That was one of the best things about Wyatt—they might play he was the greedy barbarian, but at the end of the day, it was always about what she wanted. What she needed.

All she ever needed was a man like him.

She sank her fingers into the hair at his nape, which was too freshly cut to get a good grip on. She scraped her nails over the skin there and brought him closer, pressing her tongue inside his mouth, the first aggressor.

With her silent permission, the rein he kept on his control broke. He thrust once with his finger before pulling it away, leaving her open and empty. One big hand wrapped around her throat to tilt her head, angling it. He bit her bottom lip as he drew away, scraping the flesh and soothing it with rough licks when she whimpered.

“You taste like champagne and strawberries,” he rasped. He licked his lips. “And maybe some of those bacon-wrapped scallops.”

She snorted a laugh. Only Wyatt could make her laugh when he was fingering her. “Not as romantic.”

“If you want romantic, you came to the wrong man.”

Another lie. The man was a romantic down to his bones, though he concealed that mushiness well.

He must have seen the smirk on her face, because he scowled. “I am not romantic.”

“Okay,” she soothed.

“Stop using that tone. Like you're humoring me.”

She made her eyes very big. “Okay. I'll stop humoring you.”

An adorable growl ripped from his throat. “Would a romantic man bang you in a bathroom?”

He would if he knew her. Romance was a subjective thing.

Wyatt left her to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip his pants. His dick looked thick and delicious when he pulled it out, engorged and curved. The tip flared wide. She knew what that cock felt like in her mouth, her pussy, her ass, and she’d never be able to get enough.

She swallowed, not surprised that he had her salivating. Oh man. She loved his cock.

If only she could hide her appreciation. Arrogance coated his every word. “Change your mind?”

She pouted. “I can control myself.”

“Liar.” He stepped closer and worked her snug skirt up farther. He pushed her legs wider, until the tip of his cock brushed against the hair on her mound. “You’re panting for it.”

“Maybe,” she allowed. There was no maybe about it, as he would find out when he discovered her rapidly dampening pussy.

He guided his cock so the flared head pressed against her clit and rubbed it there in a small circular motion that had her moaning. “You’re right, Tatiana. Maybe we should stop. Someone will miss you soon. Maybe come looking for you.”

She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. “They could.”

“That would be terrible for business.” He brushed the back of his hand over her nipple, silk and emeralds rasping against the engorged tip.

“It would.”

“So what’s your decision?” He teased her by sliding his cock between her pussy lips, the wet glide forcing her up on her toes to seek a deeper connection.

She struggled for the space of one second. She had made the rounds and mingled, and the crowd tonight was accustomed to eccentric artists. If she disappeared for fifteen minutes, no one would remark upon it. “Make it quick. And don’t mess me up.”

He wrapped his big hands around her waist and lifted her. The room spun in a dizzying circle before her back was pressed against the door. “Done.”

“Oh my God.”

He sank inside, letting her weight and gravity do its job. Her head dropped back, but his hand on her neck prevented her from rapping her head against the door.

And it kept her hair from getting mussed. Talented, this man.

He sucked her earlobe before worrying it between his teeth. “Good?”

“Damn it, Wyatt. We could have waited.” She pressed her hips forward, seeking more of him, but he held her too tightly for her to find satisfaction.

“Even a second would have been too long.”

He pulled almost all the way out before shoving deep, not giving her a chance to get accustomed to his size. She was wet, but not enough to make it easy for him. He had to work to get her to accept him, and he was up for the challenge, twisting his hips to get her to take more of him.

He gave a rough groan, far too loud for Tatiana’s peace of mind. “Shh.”

A reckless smile spread over his lips. “Keep me quiet.”

Her pussy clenched on him, and he grunted. She slammed her lips over his, swallowing the sound of his pleasure.

One hand on her throat, the other hand on her hips, mouth fused over hers, he fucked her hard and fast, their breathing deepening with every rock of his penis inside of her. Their moans were captured by each other’s mouths.

The door bumped her back. For a second, she thought they were making it rattle in its frame. Odd, she thought, for such a heavy piece of wood.

Then she realized the slab was opening inward. Someone was trying to enter.

Her head shot up, lips separating from Wyatt. He blinked, reason replacing some of the passion on his gaze. Accustomed to being in charge, he took immediate action, pressing both of them harder against the wood, his cock driving deeper into her, his hand slamming the moving door shut.

Wyatt opened his mouth, no doubt ready to take care of the situation. In horror, she slapped her palm over his lips. This was the
ladies’
room. No woman had a baritone like Wyatt, she was certain.

“I’ll—I’ll be a minute, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well,” she stammered out.

There was a pause in the hallway before they heard the sound of footsteps walking away. His lips curved under her hand, and he bit her palm.

“We’re going to be arrested,” she whispered.

He circled his hips. “Worth it.”

“This is risky.”

“And you love it. You’re as wet as I am hard.”

He was right. She did love it. A normal person’s ardor would have cooled at the interruption, but she’d never been able to call herself normal. Tatiana studied him from beneath her lashes. “You have two minutes.”

“All I need.” He avoided crushing her dress beyond repair by gripping her hips. She’d wear bruises there tomorrow, but that would be just fine.

His hips picked up speed and his eyes fluttered shut, his lashes making crescents on his cheeks.

He was waiting for her. She cupped his face and brushed her thumbs over his lips. “Do it,” she whispered. “I’ll get mine later.”

She would. There was no doubt about that. She might trip him and ride him the second they got home.

He bit her thumb. “Later?” He shoved deep, making her thighs tremble. “What kind of man would make his woman wait ’til later?”

“You always make me wait for it.”

He licked her thumb, soothing the sting. “Only if I know you need to.”

He forced her to stand, pulled out, and steadied her when she would have fallen.

“I don’t need to wait now?” she breathed.

“No. It’s past time.” He tugged at the bodice of her dress, revealing her strapless white bra.

His lips quirked. “Padded. No wonder I couldn’t see the necklace.” Wyatt yanked at the bra until it was bunched beneath her breasts.

She glanced down. The necklace ended in hoops, small nooses that were looped around each nipple. A tiny emerald tightened the golden braid. Her nipples were rock hard, constricted by the metal.

He admired the sight. “You should march out right now. Model this for your guests. Show them how clever you are.”

“I only want you to see this one. It’s my favorite,” she purred.

He dipped his head to tongue the abused nipple. She bit her cheek as he drew strongly and his hand found her pussy, sinking inside and fucking her with two fingers. “Wyatt,” she whispered. “Someone could come in. Hurry.”

He sank to his knees. “Turn.”

She obeyed, eager to get off. He caged her hips and arranged her so her ass was in the air, her back arched, and she had no choice but to use the door for balance. Her breasts hung down like ripe fruit, the gold of her necklace glittering.

Wyatt scraped his teeth over the exposed skin of her buttock. He spread her legs farther, his breath gusting over her. Two fingers smoothed over her pussy and widened into a V to hold the lips apart. His tongue slid over her clitoris, and she cried out.

“Poor thing.” He licked delicately, prodding the small nubbin. “And you wanted me to wait. It would hurt to walk around with this, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Your hard little nipples, too. They would ache. Let me make it all better.” He opened his mouth and sucked in her clit. She let go of the door to reach behind her and grab his head. He shook it once, a clear warning. Muttering a curse, she returned her hand to the wood.

He stretched his hand out and found the chain that hung between her breasts. Tugging it tightened the metal on her nipples. She shrieked and came against his tongue, her pussy contracting on the talented muscle. He gentled his touch, letting her ride it out for as long as she wanted.

He held her when she would have collapsed on the tile, guiding her down so she was cradled against his lap. “Wait, my ass.” He flicked her nipple.

She opened her eyes, breathing deep. “Oh my God, Wyatt. Someone must have heard me.”

“Doubtful. This room is far enough away.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper, though it was far too late for that. “What if whoever tried to come in here is still outside?”

He shrugged. “There’s a unisex bathroom two doors down. She most likely went there.”

Oh. Well. It had still been damn illicit, she consoled herself.

“Your friend. Akira? She might have figured out what we were up to.”

Tatiana shrugged. “She won’t be scandalized.”

“I didn’t think she would.” He licked the side of her neck. “One day I want you to tell me exactly what you did at those parties. I want every detail.”

She purred and stretched. “It would get you off, wouldn’t it?”

“Especially after I punished you for being such a bad girl.”

“Maybe we could go together, sometime,” she ventured. “You can watch me being bad.”

He was silent for a long moment, and then his hoarse voice answered. “That would be acceptable.”

A secret smile crossed her face. She staggered to her feet, and he followed. Only then did she take note of his wet, still-hard penis. “You didn’t even come. After all the work you did to get me alone in here.”