Desired by Him (Wanted Series #5) Read online

I nodded and made my way over to the bookshelf.

  “So are you going to tell me what the best part of having kids is?” she asked, her voice echoing out of the small kitchen. “If it isn’t the license to mortify?”

  I smiled. “It’s the lying.”

  “The lying?”

  I heard the fridge open and the sound of two glass somethings clink together.

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I mean the part where they’re young enough to believe whatever you tell them because they think you’re the smartest person in the world.”

  “I can see how that would be a welcome ego trip for you.”

  “It’s not just that,” I said. “It’s as much about the lying as it is about being able to tell the truth. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Try,” she said, walking out of the kitchen with two frosty looking bottles of MGD.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking one from her. “Well, yeah, on one hand, the bluffing can be really fun at times.”

  “Oh?” she asked, smushing the top of her bottle against her lips.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Like when it comes to the tooth fairy and Santa and aliens.”

  “Aliens?”

  “Sure.”

  “Isn’t that kind of scary?”

  “Scary is having a kid with no imagination.”

  She nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “And on the other hand, there’s something really special about feeling like- even if you haven’t always been proud of the way you’ve lived or the things you’ve done- like you have a chance to make up for that. Cause you have this little mind that cares about you and thinks you’re the smartest, kindest, most honest person that’s ever lived and- I don’t know- something about knowing someone else has that kind of faith in you makes you want to be better, makes you think you can be.”

  She swallowed.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to get sentimental there I just-”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I know she’s not always going to look at me like that.”

  Addison pursed her lips.

  “And I realize that sounds totally selfish.”

  She shook her head. “No it doesn’t.”

  I took a refreshing sip of cold beer to shut myself up.

  “And Sophie is really lucky to have a dad that cares so much.”

  “I wish caring was enough.” I took a deep breath. “But I’m not naive. I know someday she’ll know I’m just a person and not a superhuman and she’ll have to forgive all my mistakes so she can get on with her life-”

  “After she blames you for everything that goes wrong for at least ten years.”

  “Jesus,” I said, lifting my beer. “Careful now or I’ll have to drink every last one of these that you’ve got.”

  She smiled. “You’re a good dad, Wyatt, but you don’t need me to tell you that.”

  “Still. I can’t say I mind you saying it.”

  “I’ll try to remember to say it again sometime.”

  “That would be nice of you,” I said. “And I don’t mean to seem needy, but I also like being told what an excellent lover I am.”

  She blushed as one corner of her mouth curled up. “Of course you do.”

  I turned and looked at her bookshelf. It was organized flawlessly with nonfiction separate from fiction, and as I let my eyes scan what was on display, I noticed a section of poetry books that took me by surprise. “You like poetry?”

  “I do,” she said, looking at the shelf.

  “I’m surprised.”

  “Why?

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem too serious for something so frivolous.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “For your information, poetry is the least frivolous thing on Earth.”

  I rolled my shoulders back. “I apologize. I stand corrected.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “I see you’re a fan of Yeats?”

  “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I wasn’t always, but then I took a class about him in college and he’s been one of my favorites ever since.”

  “Cool,” I said. “I’m familiar with a few of his poems, but I guess I better brush up.”

  “You’d like him.”

  “Would I?” I asked. “Why do you say that?”

  “Cause,” she said, her eyes smiling. “He was kind of a pervert.”

  Chapter 16: Addison

  It was strange having a man in my space, especially a man as attractive as Wyatt.

  What’s more, his interest in me was tangible. Sure, he’d mentioned it more than once, but I swear there was an energy coming off him that was drawing me to him.

  But there was more to it than the undeniable physical connection that had been there since we first met.

  There was something else between us, something that had developed over the last two weeks, something that made me feel safe with him even though I was reluctant to feel safe with anyone… besides Holly and Mrs. Collins, but it had taken them years to wear me down.

  And it was all happening so fast, and on top of the fact that he still had no idea what a nutcase I was, I was starting to see him as a family man more and more.

  Though he made it hard to do so when he looked at me that way.

  “What?” I asked, noticing he was studying me instead of my modest collection of books all of a sudden.

  “Nothing,” he said, tilting his beer against his lips and leaning his head back as he took a swig.

  I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t help it.”

  I was suddenly conscious of the silence around us, unable to hear the bustling street below over my nervous energy.

  “Kind of like you can’t help being so goddamn beautiful.”

  I tucked some hair behind my ear and leaned against the wall beside the bookshelf. “Don’t you get tired of shamelessly flattering me?”

  He took a step closer. “It’s not like it takes any effort.”

  “Well, it’s exhausting for me,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s too much. It’s-”

  “Less than you deserve, I know,” he said, standing so close to me I couldn’t breathe.

  I would’ve said more than I deserve, but I didn’t want to tell him that. Why would I? And how could I?

  Here was this man- this specimen- who was so talented and good looking and successful he never should’ve even crossed my path. Was it so bad to let him believe that I was special? That I was as loved? That he was privileged to have my attention on a Saturday night instead of the only man in a one man race?

  “I uh…” I slid backwards against the wall and stepped towards the center of the room again so I could find my breath. “I haven’t finished showing you around.”

  His eyes smiled, but despite the fact that he was keeping them on mine, I felt like I was already naked, like there was only one way being alone with him could end and there was nothing I could do to change it.

  “The kitchen’s over there,” I said, extending my hand towards the room I’d just come from. “As you might’ve guessed.”

  He walked around me towards it.

  I followed him with my eyes, feeling with every step he put between us like I was gaining some strength back. What was it about this guy that made it so hard for me to think, so hard for me to breathe?

  “Cool table,” he said, looking over his shoulder at me before turning back to face the kitchen. “I like how it maximizes the space.”

  I didn’t know if it was his broad chest or his height, but my apartment felt laughably small with him inside it to the point that I was surprised he didn’t have to duck to get through the doors.

  “Ikea,” I said, walking up behind him. “Not that I would expect you to know that.”

  He furrowed his brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. “You don’t think my tastes
are refined enough that I can appreciate good Swedish design?”

  “No. I just think maximizing space is a funny thing for someone who lives in a mansion to appreciate.”

  “I didn’t always live there, you know.”

  “Still.”

  “And I’ve spent enough time on tour buses to appreciate the merits of clever design.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fair enough.”

  “Would it be rude to jump ahead to the bathroom stop on the tour?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “That wasn’t an innuendo,” he said. “All that sake is going right through me.”

  “Sure. It’s through there on your left,” I said, pointing towards my cracked bedroom door.

  “Thanks,” he said, reaching it a moment later.

  I froze when he went inside, wondering what he thought as he cut through my bedroom. And after I heard the bathroom door close, I wasn’t sure whether or not I should follow him.

  Finally, I moved towards my room, dragging my pointed toes across the carpet like a ballerina as slowly as if I were gliding through Jell-o.

  I hoped I hadn’t left the sink top a mess. I was usually pretty tidy about everything except my toiletries, and I didn’t want him to run a mile when he figured out how many products I needed to make my hair look like this.

  I lifted my beer and looked at it, trying to decide if I should slam it quickly and grab another, but there was no reason to. My head was already clouded from alcohol and lust. And if he made a move, I didn’t want to burp in his face or something. Not when things were going so well.

  I mean, they were going well, right?

  Wasn’t this what dating was all about? Crippling anxiety that may or may not lead to sex? But of course it would lead to sex. Wyatt wasn’t a kiss goodnight type of guy. He was a fuck you senseless and leave you gasping for breath kind of guy.

  When I heard the toilet flush, I took another large sip and swallowed.

  I needed to calm down. There was no reason to be nervous. I didn’t make him come up. He wanted to. It was obvious. In fact, it had been obvious that he was hoping this was how the night would end since the second he walked in the Blue Note.

  And that was okay.

  I was used to people wanting things from me, looking at me as a means to an end. That part of it was nothing new. But the situation wasn’t entirely familiar. Because when it came to Wyatt, I wasn’t confident that I completely understood what he was after.

  Sex, obviously.

  And I wanted it, too.

  But was there something else? And if he did want more from me- with me- was that something I was willing to give him? Fuck. I had no idea. All I knew was that he made me feel good all over. Sure, sometimes I found him infuriating and childish. Even vulgar at times. But his attention made me feel pretty.

  And yes, I hated myself for being so shallow.

  But was it so wrong?

  That I liked to feel pretty? That I enjoyed having him rock my body so hard that for just a moment my mind was clear of everything else? Wasn’t that the reason people meditated?

  Not that meditating ever really interested me. It always seemed like a waste of valuable time. But being with him didn’t. It felt like it was good for me. Even if he was totally deluded about how amazing I was.

  “So is this where the magic happens?” he asked.

  My eyes followed his voice towards the half open door in front of me. I took a deep breath, put my hand on it, and stepped inside.

  He was looking out the large window behind my headboard that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

  I didn’t bother turning on the light. The glow of the city below provided a flattering dimness that didn’t need to be messed with. Not now anyway.

  And while I’d normally pull my expensive blackout curtains across the room and curl up in my bed with a book, I wanted to remember what he looked like in my room, what it was like to have someone so desirable so close to where I always hoped for sweet dreams.

  “Well?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

  I shrugged. “It’s where sleep happens.”

  He turned around and faced me, drinking me in with his eyes. “Not tonight it isn’t,” he said, walking towards me where I stood at the foot of the bed.

  I swallowed. “Were you satisfied with the contents of my medicine cabinet?”

  He raised his eyebrows and stepped up to me. “Actually, I didn’t even look.”

  “No?” I asked, tilting my head at him while goosebumps erupted all over my body.

  “No,” he said, smiling. “To be honest, I’d rather go through your drawers.”

  “And what if I said I wasn’t in the mood?” I asked, my shallow breath the only thing between us.

  A low laugh rattled up his throat. “I’d say you were a terrible liar.”

  Chapter 17: Wyatt

  Between the inviting looking bed to my left and the way her blue dress caught in the dim light, I felt charged with adrenaline… though it may have been sake.

  Regardless, I needed to reel it in. She deserved that.

  “Is this the end of the tour?” I asked.

  “You tell me,” she said, looking between my eyes.

  I tilted my beer against my mouth and drained it, licking my lips as I reached for hers.

  “Wait,” she said, downing the rest before handing me the bottle.

  I took a step towards the tall dresser behind me and set the bottles down. When I turned back towards her, she was clasping her hands in front of her.

  “You want to know what I think?” I asked, dying to tear her clothes off.

  She nodded.

  I leaned in, letting my hot breath loose against her ear. “I think there’s more to see here.”

  She swallowed, her neck so delicate and pale I had half a mind to bite it.

  “But before anything happens,” I said. “I owe you an apology.”

  She furrowed her brow. “An apology?”

  I nodded.

  “For what?”

  I started unbuttoning my shirt. “Last weekend when you came to my house-“

  “Yeah…”

  “I lost control with you.”

  She pursed her lips, her eyes bouncing from my eyes to where my fingers moved to the next button.

  “And while it wouldn’t exactly be accurate to say I was sorry about it-”

  A bashful smile formed on one side of her mouth.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m out of control.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think that.”

  I pulled my shirt off and threw it on the end of the bed.

  Her eyes looked me up and down, her chest no longer rising and falling.

  “Good,” I said, walking behind her. “Still-” I gathered her thick red hair in my hands and laid it over one of her shoulders. “I want you to know this time I’m going to maintain control.” I pinched the top of her gold zipper between my fingers. “How does that sound?” I said, lowering my voice as I lowered her zipper a few gold teeth at a time.

  She turned her head so I could see the side of her face. “I hate to be unsupportive,” she said, her voice quiet. “But I’m not sure I believe you’re capable of controlling yourself.”

  The zipper between my fingers reached her lower back and stopped. “You might be right,” I said, noticing where her black bra pulled across her smooth back. “But it’s not me that I’m trying to control.”

  Her breath caught in her throat when she felt my hands release the clasp of her bra.

  “It’s your pleasure.”

  She spun around and looked up at me, laying a hand on my bare chest like she had half a mind to push me away but lacked both the strength and conviction.

  “That’s a big bed for such a small place by the way.”

  She turned to look at it, dropping her hand from my chest. “Are you sure you want to break our streak?”

  I furrowed my brows. “What streak?”

>   “Well, we haven’t been together in a bed.”

  “No? I could’ve sworn we had.”

  She shook her head.

  “Must have been in my dreams.”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes.

  “But if you’d rather not-”

  “No,” she said. “I would.”

  I slid my palm against her cheek and tilted her face towards mine. Her freckles were invisible in the dim light, but her face looked open and timid. And it was glimpses like that- glimpses of her vulnerability- that I couldn’t resist.

  Her hand went to my wrist but she didn’t push it away. “I’m just not used to feeling so-”

  I leaned down and stopped her moving lips with mine.

  A moment later she was leaning into the kiss, as if it might help her catch her breath. Then she opened her mouth and let me taste her.

  I’d never kissed her so slow before, but I liked savoring her that way. What’s more, I knew it wasn’t her default setting to do anything leisurely and the fact that she would so willingly take her time with me made my chest- and my dick- swell.

  And when her hips fell against mine, I placed my hand on her bare back where her dress was open and pulled her against me. Her body felt fragile under my large hand, and I felt guilty for how rough I’d been with her a week earlier.

  Sure, she hadn’t complained- hadn’t said she didn’t like it- and I had no doubt she would’ve spoken her mind if that were the case. Still, something about the calmness in the air around us made me want this time to be different.

  Which was new for me. Normally, I was all about getting mine and making sure the woman I was with got off, too, but for the first time, there was more to it.

  Not only did I want to make sure she felt good, but I wanted to make sure she didn’t get hurt. Not by me. Not by anything. And the sudden realization of how much I actually cared about her startled me and made me pull back for a second.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “It will be when I get this dress off you,” I said, reaching both hands around the shoulders of her dress and pulling it down around her.

  She kept her eyes on me as her dress fell to the floor around her feet, taking her bra with it so she was naked except for a little pair of black panties that looked fine enough to dissolve on my tongue.