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We froze, sheepishly realizing the walls weren’t nearly as thick as we’d hoped.
“We could be quiet,” I whispered.
Wyatt arched an incredulous eyebrow at me. “You’re never quiet,” he pointed out with a teasing lilt. “Besides, I like it when you scream.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but his words sent a fresh rush of desire coursing through me. Biting my lip, I considered our options before a daring idea took hold. “Let’s get out of here,” I murmured.
We crept down the stairs and slipped out the front door, letting it ease shut silently behind us. The clear skies above us were a canvas of stars shining brilliantly without the interference of city lights.
Wyatt’s hand found the small of my back, sending tingles dancing over my skin as he guided me towards my truck. He opened the passenger door for me, and as I climbed up, he leaned in for a brief but searing kiss that left me breathless. I settled onto the cool leather seat, my heart thundering with delicious anticipation as he closed the door and rounded the truck.
The engine rumbled to life with a roar that shattered the night’s tranquil. I instinctively clapped a hand over my mouth as if that could somehow muffle the raucous sound.
Wyatt smirked knowingly at my reaction. “Should I lay on the gas and really peel out?” he teased.
I swatted his arm lightly. “Shh, you jerk! Just go already!”
With a wicked grin, Wyatt eased the truck down the long gravel driveway but then turned sharply onto a narrow dirt road that meandered through the pastures. His eyes kept darting over to me with an intensity that had my pulse kicking up another notch.
“Come on, hurry up,” I urged, squirming impatiently in the seat.
“So impatient,” he said, amused. Then his expression turned serious, his gaze darkening. “Take off your pants,” he suddenly instructed.
I hesitated for only a second, making sure he wasn’t joking, but there was no mistaking the earnestness in his expression. He wasn’t kidding.
I popped open the button on my jeans and slowly undid the zipper. Wyatt struggled to keep his eyes on the road while also watching me. I lifted my hips and slid my jeans down before pulling them off. Beneath the denim, I wore a pair of plain white cotton panties printed with little horseshoes.
“Lucky underwear.” I shrugged. “I guess it worked.”
Wyatt let out a low rumbling laugh, the sound rich and warm. “I’d say so.” His gaze drifted over me.
“So, now what, cowboy?” My voice emerged in a breathless rasp.
Wyatt guided the truck down a winding path that dead-ended near the river’s edge. The gentle rush of the water over rocks drifted through the open windows, filling the air with its soothing melody. He killed the engine and headlights, plunging us into silence and darkness, save for the stars’ ethereal light.
In a heartbeat, his calloused hand found my bare thigh, his rough palm sending shivers dancing over my skin as it slowly inched higher. I drew in a sharp breath as his fingers brushed against the soft cotton covering my heat.
“More,” I pleaded in a whisper.
Wyatt’s fingers delved beneath the fabric, finding my centre. A whimper escaped my lips as he stroked me with agonizing tenderness.
“Wyatt, please.” I gasped, my hips arching shamelessly against his hand.
With a ragged groan, he surged forward, kissing me as his fingers thrust into my aching core. I cried out my pleasure into his mouth, my body quickly climbing that blissful crest as his skilled touch worked me into a frenzy.
When I shattered apart, Wyatt swallowed each desperate kiss, prolonging the tremors coursing through me with his relentless strokes until I was spent and boneless in the wake of my release.
Wyatt’s eyes were dark and hooded as he watched me slowly float back down to earth. “I need you, Kins,” he rasped, the rough timbre of his voice sending another shiver of need ricocheting through me.
“Then take me already, you idiot,” I breathed, rising to claim his lips.
In the blink of an eye, Wyatt was out of the truck, opening my door and turning me so he was standing between my legs. His mouth moved over mine with a ferocious hunger, our tongues warring in a heated duel. My hands found their way under his shirt, desperate to map every glorious inch of his muscled torso.
When we tore apart, I quickly unfastened his belt and jeans, shoving the denim down his hips impatiently to free his straining length. I wrapped my hand around him, drawing a guttural groan from deep in his chest as his eyes slipped closed in rapture.
“Kinsley,” he rasped, his voice wrecked as he struggled for control. “Can I?”
“Please,” I whimpered. “I want you, Wyatt. Now.”
