“I couldn’t do that to some poor girl when I love you like I do. I couldn’t even think ’bout doing something like that. It was different with you and Terry. It was just pretend. He needed you to cover for him as much you needed him, but with me it’d just be mean.” A frown marred his handsome face as he studied her quietly for one long moment. “You are my real girlfriend. Even if you won’t go to the prom with me.”
Tabitha reached up and ran a hand through his hair that she’d messed up in the heat of the moment. She savored the way the silky stands ran through her fingers as her heart hurt over the idea that Wyatt hadn’t once gone to a dance through four years of high school. It seemed so incredibly unfair to him.
“I think Terry will give me fifteen minutes.”
Wyatt’s smile was wide and pleased and more than worth dealing with him pestering her every shift. He reached around her and grabbed the door handle.
“Let’s get in back,” Tabitha said before he could pull it open.
She told herself it was because the two of them were out in the open in the parking lot of Maple’s, but the truth was it was ten at night, and no one was there. She just wanted to feel all of Wyatt on top of her. He always parked in the darkened corner, because this wasn’t the first time he’d pestered her into the parking lot. He did it nearly every shift.
Who said addictive behavior wasn’t genetic?
Wyatt grabbed her wrist with one hand and used the other to tug at the neckline of his shirt. He pulled it over his head right there in the parking lot and then tossed it into the back of his truck before he undid the latch.
Tabitha experienced that drowning feeling again as she stared at his cut, muscular body. He was constantly fighting with his weight, but not for the reasons most did. He had to keep himself below weight class to fight in the boxing circuit he loved so much, and he was always five pounds or less away from heavyweight, but he ran ten miles a day and lived off pure protein because he refused to step into the ring professionally against Clay. It could’ve gone the other way. The two best friends were built the same, with massive shoulders and imposing height, but Wyatt had opted to struggle with keeping himself thinner because he said Clay had gone hungry enough for one lifetime.
And she wondered why she couldn’t stop herself from falling head over heels for the man?
She crawled into the truck without hesitation. There were blankets to help with the hardness of it. They were dusty and smelled distinctly of the outdoors, which, Tabitha was fairly sure, was a scent she’d associate with making out for the rest of her days.
“Come here.” Wyatt left the tailgate open and crawled to her on his hands and knees like a panther, making her breathless with anticipation. “Tabby cats on top.”
Tabitha screeched when he pulled her to him and rolled onto his back. He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath before he was fisting her long hair with both hands and pulling her lips back to his. She opened to him a second time, loving the way he took her mouth like it belonged to him. She swallowed his low groan. Her fingers dug into his bare shoulders. She straddled his hips, the material of her long, loose skirt pushing up to her thighs.
“I wanna get you off,” he groaned when he broke the kiss only to attack her neck. “I need to hear you before I spend all night sitting in front of that dispatch board.”
“Wy, no,” she moaned in complaint even if her body protested the argument. “I get all red and flushed when you do that.”
“I like you flushed.”
“Yeah, but I got to go back to work.”
“Leverage,” he reminded her, but her hazed mind barely heard it because his lips were drifting down to her collarbone. He sneaked his hand between their straining bodies and started tugging down her shirt. “Seems like you got an unfair advantage here.”
“Forget it. I ain’t taking off my shirt in the parking lot. You’ll have to arrest me for indecent exposure.”
“I got my shirt off.”
“You’ve always got your shirt off. Anyone with the ten bucks to see a circuit boxing match has seen what you have to offer.”
“Jealous?”
Considering the number of rabid groupies who went to those fights, yes, she was jealous as hell, but she wasn’t going to admit it. She kissed him instead, letting him slip a hand under her shirt as their mouths met over and over again in heated desperation. He shoved her bra aside. His thumb found her oversensitive nipple. She gasped against his lips and pushed her hips against his on instinct.
Wyatt dropped his head back and studied her as she moved against him. She leaned in and parted her lips, silently begging for the next breathless kiss.
“You’re already flushed.” Wyatt’s voice was low and gravelly with lust. She tried to capture his lips, but he turned his head away, denying her. “Let me do it.”
He didn’t wait for her to argue. He grabbed her ass with his free hand, forcing their bodies tightly together. The long, hard outline of his dick was straining against his jeans, and the way it felt pressed between her spread legs had her choking back a gasp of pleasure. He arched up, creating a wonderful friction that caused sparks of need to blossom and grow amazingly fast.
She kissed his neck as an outlet, forgetting to be careful as she bit and licked his warm, tawny skin. He turned his head to the side, giving her better access. Without realizing it she was moving over him, and he was moving with her as if their bodies had failed to notice they were still clothed. He was making those low grunting sounds he did whenever he started to get too turned on to talk.
His hands were everywhere, cupping her ass, under her dress, grabbing her thighs, inside her bra. Her shirt was pushed up under her armpits. Her breathing was sharp as the pleasure built and built but held in that horrible place between heaven and hell. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered telling him they weren’t going to do this.
“Do it.” His voice was a low growl of sexual agony. “Or I’m gonna.”
She shifted over him, trying to get the right angle, but there was too much skirt in the way, and maybe he was wearing the wrong jeans. The button-fly ones worked better. She huffed in frustration, because she was so close her entire body was vibrating with it. “I can’t get it.”
“Fuck it.” He pushed his hand higher up her skirt, finding the edge of her panties. “Sit up a little.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed up enough for him to get his hands between the two of them. When his fingers found her, hot and wet for him, all the air whooshed out of her. She would never get over just how good it felt to have Wyatt touching her there. The naughtiness of it made the back of her neck hot. The pleasure of it made her nipples tingle and her pussy throb.
He found her clit easily, and Tabitha had the off thought Wyatt knew her body better than she did. She hadn’t even known what an orgasm was until she accidently discovered it with Wyatt on a picnic one very hot summer day. She was so shocked when it happened, Wyatt thought she ought to sit down and have a talk with his sister, who apparently had a wealth of knowledge when it came to all things of a feminine nature.
Tabitha told him she’d rather gouge her own eyes out.
So Wyatt talked with Jules instead and practiced all his newfound information on Tabitha in a very distinctive hands-on learning style that usually left her as sweaty and breathless as she was right now.
His head hung down. Low, gasping moans burst out of her as he rubbed her clit in small, firm circles. Her fingers dug into the thick muscles at the base of his neck.
“Lemme hear you, baby,” he growled, making it obvious he was as close as she was. “Do it, and then I’ll let you watch me do it.”