With a Twist (Last Call #4)(41)

There's not an ounce of self-conscious feeling that Wyatt is standing here while I'm half dressed, staring at me. In fact, he leans lazily against the corner of the wooden locker with his arms crossed over his chest.

The hem of my shirt starts sliding down so I make haste to get the wound dressed. Lining the bandage up with the scrape, I start to press it on when Wyatt says, "You did an amazing job tonight, Andrea. You are one hell of a partner."

I make the mistake of looking up at him in surprise, while trying to press the bandage on my wound, and miss by about a mile. The tape goes right onto my raw flesh, and I curse, "Fuck …  fuck …  fuck."

Wyatt grins and pushes off the locker. "Here …  let me do that for you."

My hand falls away from the bandage, and I breathe out. "Okay …  sure, that would be good."

Kneeling on the floor, Wyatt crouches a bit lower to bring his face eye level with my hip. He pushes the hem of my shirt up again. His knuckles drag against my skin until he reaches the bottom of my rib cage, and he says gruffly. "Here …  hold your shirt up."

My hand clutches onto the material, and I look down at him while he carefully pulls the tape off me. I grit my teeth but don't say a word.

Wyatt efficiently pulls the tape away from the gauze, balls it up, and drops it to the floor. "You should have put the bandage on first, then the tape," he says idly, and then does just that.

From above him, I watch as he works …  gently pressing the gauze back to the actual wound, which sticks because it's still weeping with a little blood. He pulls off strip after strip of tape, pressing it to bandage and skin, and then runs his forefinger along the edge to make sure it sticks.

He takes his time …  his breath fanning out over my thigh, and while there's nothing sexual at all in his ministrations, I cannot help the goose bumps that break out all over me every time his skin touches mine. I hope to God he doesn't notice that, and I most certainly hope he doesn't notice how hard my nipples have become and-yup, glancing down-poking hard against my shirt.

Shit.

Wyatt smoothes the last piece of tape over my skin as he looks up at me.

"There. All better," he murmurs.

The tone of his voice …  husky.

His eyes …  warm. No, hot. Definitely hot.

I am spellbound by the intensity of his gaze, and I wait for it to be broken any moment now when he pulls his hands away from me.

But he doesn't …  just stares at me, and with just his look …  I start to get damp between my legs.

I feel like I'm in a totally dreamlike state when I watch as Wyatt …  slowly …  ever so slowly, leans in toward me and his lips graze my skin, right beside the elastic of my panty line where leg meets hip.

I jerk slightly from the contact as warm lips part and his tongue flicks out briefly to touch me.

A slight whimper pops out of me, and Wyatt's eyes snap to mine. He looks hesitant for a moment, but whatever he sees on my face causes that to dissolve and then his eyes go practically nuclear.

Raising one hand, Wyatt takes his fingertip and traces it along the edge of my panties …  starting just under my hipbone and traveling downward. His eyes slide from mine and turn to watch his own hand as it gently strokes my skin.

I hold my breath and watch, mesmerized, as he touches me languidly, his eyelids heavy and his lips slightly parted. Just before his finger reaches that spot that will put him just an inch away from my core, he stops his progress and looks back up at me.

He doesn't say anything, and I couldn't if I wanted to. Words would break the spell. Words could bring reason back into the equation.



       
         
       
        

Instead, Wyatt's hands are suddenly behind me, spread wide and cupping my ass. He gives a sharp tug …  turns my hips, and suddenly, I'm directly in front of him. He never hesitates a second, and my knees almost buckle when he pulls on my body …  causing my hips to flex forward just as he leans in toward me.

His nose goes right into the center of me and he presses me hard against his face, only the thin material of my panties separating our skin. Then he breathes in hard …  his fingers clenching into the muscles of my ass.

He inhales so very deeply …  sucking my scent deep into his lungs, and then letting out a hot breath that seeps into the cotton, heating my skin below it.

"Oh God," I moan, my hands flying up to fist in his hair.

"Want my mouth on this," Wyatt mutters into me, and I pull him in harder …  biting my tongue so I don't start grinding against him.