The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(11)

“Did you get your car?” I breathe, turning to face him.

He nods and returns his hands to the button on my pants. I step backward, and he follows until I bump into the dryer.

“And I’ve got a pocket full of…”

His voice trails off as I run my palms over his back pockets, and foil crunches in the left one.

“I thought you forgot about me,” I admit.

He crushes my body to his and shakes his head. “Never, Kylie.”

I reach up and touch the sides of his face, threading my fingers into his wheat-colored hair.

“And besides, I called and messaged you many, many times.”

My lips quirk up skeptically. I ease away from him and flip over my phone to see if I have any missed calls. There are none from Wyatt. “Did you dial the wrong number?”

“Unless the wrong number has your voice on the answering machine, beautiful.” He plucks his phone from his back pocket and scrolls through a list of names. When he reaches mine, he recites the number. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

“That’s my home number, babe. I use it, like, once a year.” I pull his phone from his grip and examine the entry he’s made for me. A soft, almost nervous laugh bubbles from the back of my throat as I realize he has my numbers saved backwards—my cell phone is listed as my home number and vice versa. As I correct both numbers, letting him know about the mix-up in the process, the irritation I’ve felt the majority of the night drifts away.

Wyatt kept his word, and he came down here to find me.

He sought me out for our last night together.

Realizing this sends both pleasure and pain throbbing through my chest. My body threatens to crumble, but I hold on to the dryer behind me for support.

“I can be upstairs in fifteen minutes, and then we can…” I stop speaking for a moment, my eyebrows pulling together, as he leans far over to lock the laundry room door. “What are you doing?”

I gasp when he jerks me to him, finally undoing the pesky top button of my jeans with his other hand at the same time. In one rough motion, he drags the denim along with my panties down my hips.

Oh. My. God.

His hands spread across my ass frantically, and the initial slap he gives my backside sends a delicious sting across my skin. Bending his head slightly, he plunges his tongue into my mouth. I kiss him back just as greedily, meeting the slightest movement of his mouth with my own. As I taste Guinness on him, I remember the night of my twenty-first birthday when we downed too many Black Velvet drinks at the Halloween Rock Ball where YTS was playing. We’d had sex, hard and frantic, in the dressing room’s bathroom before they went back on stage to play.

“You taste so good,” I murmur.

As he glides his finger between my legs, a look of satisfaction takes over his face. I fumble with the button on his jeans just as he flicks his tongue across his fingertip, savoring my flavor.

“Not as good as you taste,” he growls. “Bend over, Ky.”

He doesn’t wait for me to comply. He simply turns me around, so I’m facing the dryer. I grasp the sides and lean over it, shuddering at how the warmth from the machine spreads through my chest, at how the vibration sends more heat spiraling to the pit of my stomach.

Wyatt draws away from me only for a moment, but when he returns, I feel him, hard and long, against my bare ass. “You know this isn’t it for us tonight,” he says, cupping my sex.

When I mutter, “It better not be,” he chuckles into my ear and glides his cock between my slick folds. He slides himself against me, back and forth, testing my wetness, before thrusting into me.

A sigh escapes my lips, and I grip the corners of the dryer tighter. I rock my hips back and forth, meeting his deep thrusts. He presses his lips to my bluebird tattoo and groans.

“Fuck, Kylie, you feel so good. So right.”

Reaching around me, he squeezes my clit softly, and I gasp.

“Don’t stop. God, don’t stop.”

Because I need this from him. I need everything he can give me tonight, so I can move on and not want more.

“Harder?” He rubs my center in quick circular motions.

Strands of my dark hair cling to my damp forehead as I nod. “Please.”

With his free hand, he clutches my hip and slams into me. I just know that I am going to scream. I’m going to scream, and the hotel staff will rush down here to find us screwing like rabbits over their brand new Whirlpool dryer. Then, I’ll be banned from The Veranda for life.

For this, though, it’s worth it.

As the moan builds in my throat, he lets go of my hip and slides his finger into my mouth. When I bite down on it, hard, he releases a low noise. “Come for me,” he orders roughly.

I shake my head. “Not yet, not until—”

“Come for me,” he repeats. “You’ve got me all night. You’ve got me for as long as you want. I want to hear you come.”

I’m still moving my head furiously from side to side even as the orgasm rips through me. I tighten up around him, clenching his cock inside me, until a moment later when he trembles. We don’t make a sound or a movement for what seems like hours.

At last, I feel his lips part between my shoulder blades. It takes a second, but I finally make out what he’s saying.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

Breathing heavily, I turn around, so we’re face-to-face. He touches his lips to my forehead, then to my lips, and finally, to the tip of my nose. “Thanks,” I murmur. I place my palms flat against his chest, not to push him away, but so I can feel the unsteady drumming of his heart. “I mean it. Thanks.”

Keeping his blue eyes on my face, he slips my jeans back up and grins when I shift uncomfortably. “I meant what I said, Kylie. You’ve got me for the rest of the night. I don’t want there to be any—” He’s cut off by the doorknob jiggling.

I mutter a curse and scramble to button my pants and adjust my halter-top as he pulls up his jeans.

“Kylie?” Heidi’s muffled voice filters in from the other side of the door. “Please tell me you’re in there. I lost my key to the room, and it’s booked under your name, so they won’t give me a replacement.”

Relieved, I sag against Wyatt’s chest, and he strokes his hand down my spine. This slight motion brings me close to unraveling, even closer to spinning out of control. Gripping a handful of his t-shirt, I clear my throat before answering Heidi. “Yeah, let me grab my stuff. I’ll be upstairs in a few, okay?”

“Why’s the door locked?”

Wyatt grins, but I place my finger over his mouth and give him a warning glare. He retaliates by squeezing my breast.

“It locks when it shuts. I’ve got an armful of laundry, so I’ll be up there in five, okay?”

She mumbles something inaudible and then calls out, “Whatever, see you in a few.”

I count to a hundred before I yell out her name. When she doesn’t answer, I look up into Wyatt’s eyes. “You like to make your presence known, don’t you?” My voice is teasing, but the look on his face is serious. The pit of my stomach coils. I don’t want seriousness from him—not tonight.

“Where you’re concerned, Ky, yeah, I do.”

I touch the base of my throat, massaging the area carefully, and watch him as he heads to the door. “You’ll be in your room?”

He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll be there.”

“Cal’s not going to show up, is he?” I ask as he steps out into the hallway.

Wyatt scratches a hand through his blond hair and cocks his head to the side, grinning. “Not if he doesn’t want his fucking fingers broken.”

“Well aren’t you Mr. Effing Possessive.”

As he closes the laundry room door, he rakes his deep blue eyes over me, sending another flash of desire speeding through my body. “Damn right I am, Bluebird.”

Finally alone, I smile to myself as I stuff my laundry, which is still slightly wet, into the bag before I take the elevator back to my room. Heidi’s standing outside of our door with her arms crossed over her chest, scowling.

I stop in my tracks. “You okay?”

“That asshole Finn bailed on me, but I’m alright.” She stretches her arms out over her head and yawns theatrically. “I just want my bed.” As I dig in my back pocket for the key card, she tilts her head to the side. “You look way too happy for having just done laundry.”

I bite my lip to suppress a grin as I unlock our door. I’m contemplating whether or not I should tell her, but then I flip on the light switch.

And my heart sinks.

Every inch of our room has been rummaged through. There are clothes, both Heidi’s and mine, thrown all over the place, and all the dresser drawers have been pulled out.

“What are you—” Heidi begins, sliding past me to get inside. Like me, she stops in her tracks. She sums up exactly how I’m suddenly feeling in the single word she says next. “Shit.”





Chapter Five

Over the last several years, I’ve gotten used to dealing with cops, not because of myself but due to the notoriety of the band. There’s the loud and completely out of hand hotel parties, Sin’s drunken habit of dropping his pants and pissing on the side of the street (or wherever else he happens to be standing at the time), and of course, my brother’s foul temper, which has gotten Lucas into trouble time and time again. Still, I’ve got to admit that going through the motions of filing a report with the police officer who shows up at this hotel drains my energy.