Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Wyatt is quiet for a long time. I can see the gears turning, the way he analyzes everything. “You really want to do this?” he asks, voice soft.
I cross my arms, trying to hide how much I’m shaking. “I’ve been thinking about it since we started dating. I’m curious and I want to explore with you.”
He’s silent for another few beats, then does something I don’t expect when he grins like the cat that ate the canary. It’s a slow, wolfish grin that makes me squeeze my thighs together.
“You really want to play, fever?” His voice is a low growl that goes right to my ovaries and causes them to explode.
I match his stare, not backing down. “More than anything.”
He comes around the island in two strides, crowding me against the cabinets, the heat rolling off his body warms me from the inside out. He slides one massive hand up my spine and into my hair, gripping just tight enough to send a warning shot through my system
Wyatt studies me for a long moment, his green eyes dark and wild. Then he leans in, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I can’t wait to explore with you.” He licks his lips, slow and deliberate. “Later tonight, I’ll show you just how much.”
I let myself grin, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Are we supposed to bring our own handcuffs, or does the club provide them?”
He barks a laugh, the sound filling the whole house. “They’ll supply everything we need..”
The tension that’s been wrapped around my heart for a week starts to loosen. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe the promise of something new, but for the first time since Stellan crashed into our lives, I feel normal.
“Do we need safe words?” He asks pulling me into his arms.
“Heck no.” I shake my head and run my hand up his warm, muscular chest. “I know I’m safe with you no matter what.”
By the time Wyatt heads into the shower, my hands are shaking so bad I nearly drop my makeup brush. I spend forever on my hair, deciding between up and down, straight or curly, before finally letting it fall in wild waves around my shoulders. I pick a dress that’s tight enough to get his attention but not so tight I can’t breathe. The green one, the one that makes my eyes look like I’m telling the truth even when I’m lying through my teeth.
I pace the bedroom, trying to remember to breathe. God. I want tonight to be perfect.
Wyatt emerges from the shower, steam billowing behind him, a towel wrapped snugly around his waist. His hair is slicked back, droplets of water tracing paths down his toned skin. He notices my gaze lingering on him and a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. "You're drooling, Bardot," he teases, his voice a mix of amusement and warmth.
"Am not," I retort as my mind is turns to mush, betraying my words.
He walks over, drops the towel, and starts getting dressed right in front of me. He’s so freaking hot, I can’t look away. Every scar, every hard line of muscle, is an open invitation and I’m tempted to jump him.
We finish getting ready in a comfortable silence, the kind that hums with anticipation and shared understanding. Both of us are on the brink of exploring something uncharted together, and the air is thick with the promise of our shared desire.
Wyatt, ever the gentleman, holds the door open for me as we step into the warm evening. He carefully double locks it behind us, the metallic clink echoing softly in the quiet night. His eyes scan the quiet street with a protective gaze before he guides me toward the SUV. His hand rests reassuringly on the small of my back causing my blood to heat in my veins. The city lights flicker like distant stars, and though the club is just a few miles away, it feels as though we're crossing into another realm entirely.
We park in the alley, next to a Porsche that probably costs more than my mother’s home. Wyatt comes around to open my door, and the moment my heels hit the pavement, he kisses me, hard and fast, like he can’t wait another second.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say, but my knees are jelly.
We walk up to the entrance. The door is steel, painted black, and there’s no sign, just a plate to scan your membership card or smart watch. Wyatt holds his watch up to it and the door clicks.
We walk inside and the familiar scent of the club hits me in the face. I always thought it smells like leather and expensive cologne, with a faint undertone of candle wax and something sweet. The lights are low, the music a deep pulse underfoot, and everyone in the lobby looks like they’re ready for an interesting night ahead.