Page 78 of I'll Keep Her Safe

I swallow, my heart swooping at his words. He wants this. Us.For real.

“If it’s not too late,” he adds, gazing at me desperately. “If I haven’t fucked everything up.”

Oh, God. My heart.

I caress his bearded cheek. “It’s not too late, Wyatt. You haven’t fucked anything up. But…” I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, hesitant to bring this up, but knowing there’s no point in pretending. The same issues he was worried about before are still there. “What about Bailey?”

He gives me an agonized look. “I don’t know. All I know is I can’t not be with you anymore.”

“Oh. Baby.” He’s the one who callsmebaby, but the word slips out, and he sighs, turning his cheek into my hand, his eyes fluttering closed. It suddenly looks as though he’s carried the weight of the world on his shoulders for years, and all I want to do is lighten that load for him.

“I told Bailey I’d watch out for you,” he murmurs in defeat. “That I’d keep you safe.”

Of course he’d want to do that. No wonder he’s beating himself up. His feelings for me are not only a secret from Bailey, they probably feel like a betrayal of his promise. He worrieshe’sthe one I need to be kept safe from. That’s what this is. I think of how he said he didn’t want to take advantage of me, that I’m vulnerable, and breathe out slowly.

“Then you should know…” I step up on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve never felt as safe as I do in your arms.”

Wyatt lets out a shuddering sigh, as if my words have finally given him permission to let go. His mouth brushes mine in the softest, gentlest kiss, and he slides his hand into mine.

“Let’s go upstairs. I want to make love to you, Poppy.”

My heart is a glowing ember at those words. No man has ever wanted tomake loveto me in my life, and as we climb the stairs together, it feels different from the hot, forbidden sex we had in Napa.

Only…

“I should shower,” I say, feeling self-conscious as he drags his mouth over my neck at the top of the stairs. It’s been a hot day of cooking and running around New York to deliver lunch, and there’s no way I’m letting him get close when I smell like this.

Wyatt drags himself away with great effort. “I probably should, too.” His eyes sparkle as he pushes the bathroom door open, tugging me in behind him. Sugar attempts to follow, but he closes the door, keeping the cat outside. She gives a single mewl, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the water hitting the tub as Wyatt turns the shower on and looks at me.

My heart skitters when I realize what he’s suggesting. With shaking hands, I peel my dress over my head until I’m standing in my underwear. Wyatt lets out the longest, deepest sigh I’ve ever heard. The sigh of a man who has finally gotten what he wants.

I reach behind and unhook my bra, then slide my panties down my legs and kick them off. Heat pools in his eyes as they rake over me, and my nipples harden under his gaze. I suddenly feel exposed, naked in front of him while he’s still fully clothed, but I take a steadying breath, forcing myself to stand my ground, letting him look his fill. There’s a growing bulge below his belt that I’m desperate to get my hands on, but I curl them into fists at my side.

There’s no rush this time.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he says thickly. “Everything about you. Fuck.”

His eyes continue devouring me, and I blush at his compliment, dropping my gaze. My hair is a mess, my belly bigger than I’d like it to be, my thighs dimply, but Wyatt sees none of that.

“I mean it, Poppy.” His finger strokes under my chin, tilting my face back to him, forcing me to acknowledge the dark desire in his gaze. My heart thumps in response.

Steam billows from the shower as he unzips his leather jacket, sliding it off and tossing it aside. He reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt over his head, and I huff out a hard breath. It’s not like I haven’t seen him shirtless, but this feels different. I take a moment to drag my gaze across the hard swell of muscle in his shoulders and pecs, the glint of his nipple piercing, the trail of salt-and-pepper hair leading over the light definition in his abs and into his pants. Ink covers every inch of his arms and torso; plants and flowers, birds and butterflies, the rose for his mom and the name of his daughter. The things he loves, the things that make him who he is. The sight of him takes my breath away, the utter masculine beauty of his skin, his muscles, his presence. He’s made for touching, for running my hands over, my tongue over.

He kicks his pants and boxer-briefs off, a hand covering himself for modesty. I give a slow shake of my head, letting him know I need to see him, just like he’s seen me, and with a low chuckle he lets his hands fall to his side. His cock is hard and thick, the head reddish-purple, ready for me.

I get the sense he’s been ready for me for a while.

My mouth waters at the sight, as if preparing to taste him, to give him the pleasure he deserves. The thought sends heat streaking through me, makes my thighs quiver with need.

Wyatt motions to the shower, and I step under the steaming water, my pulse rushing. I’ve never showered with a man before. I’m not sure what to expect. Unless he plans to have sex in the shower, which always looks more awkward than sexy…

He calms my jangled nerves when he steps behind me, sliding his arms around my stomach. His chest is warm and firm against my back, his erection nestling against my ass as he kisses my neck, holding me close under the water. I meant what I said, that I feel safest in his arms. He’s so much bigger than me, and I love the way I tuck into his body, the way his arms feel so strong and protective around me. I trace the ink on his forearms with my fingers, trying to memorize it all.

He reaches for the soap, then steps away, turning me to face him. Soaping up his hands, he sets the bar aside and, so gently, glides his hands over me, washing me. It’s such an intimate thing, but I love that he wants to do this with me. I can only hope it will be my turn after.

He starts on my shoulders, moving down to my hands, then motions for me to lift my arms, washing under them. It tickles, making me giggle, and he bites back a smile, too.

My laughter dies away as he continues down my chest, sliding over my breasts, circling his thumbs across my nipples. His hands are so slippery with soap, and every nerve ending in my body becomes hyper-aware of the places he touches, the way his fingers sweep over my waist, my hip, then slide around to graze my ass.

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