“Have you and Terra ever had sex?” Each word is ground out, like seven, single-worded questions.
If there’s one thing I can say about Wyatt, it’s that he’s honest with me. Heartbreakingly truthful, at that. His blue eyes are hard as he shakes his head from side to side. “No.”
I bow my head briefly, relieved that I’m sitting down so he won’t notice how wobbly my knees are. How would I have reacted if he told me they have been together? What would I have said?
Would I have even walked out if he said yes to my question?
“Sorry I asked,” I reply, and he strokes the right side of my face. I tilt my head slightly, welcoming his touch, moaning as his fingertips brush over the sensitive spot behind my ear.
“Terra’s just with the band, Ky. After we’re done here, you’ll never have to see her again.”
In this business, there’s a slim chance of that happening, especially if Hazard Anthem goes mainstream. I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you telling me this?”
He releases a rough sound, dragging his large hands over the strong features of his face. “Because, you looked like you wanted to choke the shit out of her when you said her name.”
Based on the way he reacted last night, if Nate—or any other man—texted me well after midnight, he’d wear the exact same look. Still, I suck my cheeks in. And I deny that shit. “I don’t know Terra well enough to want to choke her, babe.”
Wyatt’s eyes challenge mine, but I glare back until he rises from the bed. “If you f**king say so.” When my eyebrows crease together, he takes my hands in his, pulling me roughly to my feet. “Come on. Shower.”
As I search through my bag for body wash, he claims to have left something inside the Suburban. I’m already standing beneath the showerhead, washing my hair and softly humming Crazy On You, when he returns five minutes later. He sets something on the outside of the tub before stripping down.
“Find what you were looking for?” I ask when he parts the curtain. I glance around him to see what he brought back, but he jerks the fabric closed.
Pressing his hands into the small of my back, he yanks me flush to his naked body. “Looks like I have.” He lowers his mouth to my nipple, tugging it between his straight teeth, gently at first, and then a little harder.
“My boobs weren’t in the Suburban,” I point out. Dragging my hands across his chest, I squeeze one of his ni**les, then the other. He curses in surprise and catches my hands, linking our fingers.
“Smartass.” He kisses my fingers before releasing them. “Close your eyes.”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I shake my head. “Absolutely not until you—” But he spins me around so that I’m facing away from the showerhead. He covers my eyes with his hand.
“God, can you just listen for once?” Pressing his body up against my back, he traces his tongue along each of my shoulder blades, sending all of my senses into a chaotic frenzy, before kissing the spot in between.
My muscles go taut as his mouth continues to move against my damp skin. “I wouldn’t be nearly as fun if I listened,” I say despite my shallow breathing.
“So f**king true.” Lowering his fingers from my eyes for a second, he leans over to grab whatever it is on the other side of the tub. He’s back behind me, blindfolding me with his hand, before I can sneak a quick glimpse.
“So, why are we—”
And then, I feel something new. Something startlingly frigid. It’s being held between his fingers against the folds of my sex, and I cry out. When I start to shiver away from the chill, he uncovers my brown eyes to cup my breast. “Ice?” I gasp.
As if to answer me, he traces the cube around my clit, grazing it back and forth until all that’s left are his fingers stroking my center. He builds me up quickly, and I begin to shudder. And then, suddenly, he stops. “Not yet, beautiful.”
“Dick,” I say breathlessly, and he slaps my ass.
Flinging aside the shower curtain, he dips his fingers inside of the metal bucket full of ice. When he stands upright, I glance back over my shoulder, letting my eyes fall to his palm and the two blocks he’s holding. “Remember that night in Ohio a couple years ago?” he demands.
“Thought you said no more reminding me of the past.”
“You want me to stop?” he whispers into my ear. Hesitantly, I shake my head. “Didn’t think so.”
He reaches around me, slicking the cubes over my br**sts until my ni**les tighten, and I realize that this is incredibly different from the night we spent in Ohio after show several months ago. We’d quickly forgotten the ice. By the time we fell asleep, it was nothing more than a bucketful of water.
Tonight, on the other hand, he seems to have the intention to use every single piece on my body.
As if he guesses my thoughts, he glides a piece down my spine, stopping at the small of my back and letting the remaining coolness trickle down. I suck a breath in through my teeth.
“I want to see the look on your face, Ky.”
Another piece of ice slides between my thighs. This time, he holds it against my center until I reach behind me to grip anything that my fingers come in contact with—in this case, his hip and his dick, which strains against my hand.
“Fuck,” he says in a low voice. “Turn around.”
I know what he’s about to do the second he grabs a small handful from within the ice pail. He begins to kneel down in front of me, but I stop him. I bring his hand to my mouth. And, keeping my chocolate brown eyes glued to his, I wrap my lips around the ice, clenching my fists as I slide each piece inside of my mouth.