“That’s perfect,” I say with a respectful smile. “They’ll be caught a little off guard. Only downside is if the buyer brings his own security detail. We’re in the dark about this guy… no clue what type of power he has.”
“That’s the major unknown,” Wyatt agrees and leans back in the chair, latching his hands behind his head in contemplation. He stretches his legs out under the table, accidentally kicking me in the foot.
“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling his legs back and sitting back up straight in his chair.
That’s all it takes… a barely there touch and our business-like groove has been broken.
Our eyes lock across the table, and I can’t help but blurt out. “I’m really sorry about what happened this evening.”
Wyatt immediately throws a hand up to stop me. “Don’t. It’s done and we need to just forget about it.”
“But I can’t,” I say quietly, and with my feelings just a bit bruised that he could so easily forget what we did. I mean… I know it was all “in the line of duty,” but damn it… it was also an intimate moment for me.
Clearly not to him though.
“Look, Andrea. It happened and while maybe that wasn’t the best course of action, it’s over and done with. It worked… Lance never suspected us, so consider it a victory.”
“A victory?” I say with an almost hysterical bark of a laugh. “I fucking violated you. I feel so damned guilty about it, and I don’t—”
“Don’t,” Wyatt barks at me as he lunges across the table. His hands grab ahold of mine, and he squeezes my fingers so he has my attention. “Don’t you dare feel guilty.”
“But I took advantage of you… of the situation. The more I think about it, the more I know we should have just faked it. It would have worked. It was so unnecessary for me to do that, and you were so angry at me after that. I knew it was wrong. I knew I had violated you.”
“No, Andrea,” Wyatt says in a low, reassuring voice. “You can’t go back and dissect your decisions. You made a split-second decision to do what you thought was best for us to maintain our covers. I’m not going to second-guess your decision, so you shouldn’t either.”
Oh, a wave of guilt crashes over me again, because Wyatt doesn’t exactly get what’s at the crux of my turmoil. Yeah, my mind might have been thinking that it was a good, tactical decision, but only I know that there was a personal element involved as well. I wanted to take him in my mouth. I wanted to make him come. I wanted to have a personal connection with him.
“I could have stopped you,” Wyatt says softly, breaking into my thoughts. “But I’m a man, and you are an extremely beautiful woman whom I’m attracted to. I’m being straight up honest with you… the minute your hand wrapped around my cock, I wanted you to do it.”
I blink at him in confusion, vaguely thrilled that he thinks I’m beautiful.
“Do you understand me?” Wyatt growls as he leans forward in his chair a bit more, squeezing my hands a bit harder. “I wanted you to suck me off. I enjoyed the fuck out of it, and I came harder and faster than I ever have before.”
He wanted it?
He enjoyed it?
He came harder and faster than ever before?
My head starts a slight spin, and my chest swells with some weird sensation that I might say is relief and sexual tension rolled into one. I open my mouth to tell him that I wanted it to… that I enjoyed it very much.
But Wyatt isn’t done talking. “Listen… we all do things whether in the line of duty or just life in general that we later find to be regretful and the only thing we can do is learn from the mistake and put it behind you. We have got to put this behind us, Andrea, and focus on this operation. Okay?”
For the first time in my existence, I curse the fact I’m a woman. Because the woman in me feels like crying for some ridiculous reason. I think it may be because he used words like “regret” and “mistake,” and my silly woman sensibilities may have taken his prior words a little out of context.
He wanted it.
He enjoyed it.
He came harder and faster than ever before.
Well, of course, he was all those things. He’s a man, and what man was not going to enjoy that? None of that has a damn thing to do with how he feels about me as a woman. That was all about physical release and nothing more.
So I square my shoulders and lift my chin, because yes, I am a woman, but I am also tough-as-nails Andrea Somerville and I can do exactly as Wyatt has just told me to do. I can put this behind me, learn from my silly mistake—that is, it meant nothing—and move on.