The Good Girl (8 page)

Shaking my head, I took his hand and let him lead me through the yard, back to the house. Sure enough, there were restrooms just inside the back door. Looking around, he seemed to consider the options. “Just wait here,” he suggested. “And don’t talk to anyone.”

“What if someone speaks to me?” I asked, concerned. It went completely against my upbringing to be rude. Of course, it also went against my upbringing for me to even be here.

“
Willow
,” he said in a tone that suggested he was mildly frustrated. Then he shook his head at me and locked himself in the bathroom.

It’s hard to look cool while standing outside a bathroom. Though I did my best, I must have played it off badly. Suddenly a man appeared holding a cup out to me.

“Here,” he said. “This will help with the nerves.”

Studying him for a moment, I decided he looked completely harmless.
Careful not to speak to him, I took the cup and smiled appreciatively before downing the contents. The entire cup. I was in the middle of passing the empty glass back when Wyatt emerged from the bathroom. Glancing first at me, then the guy, then the cup, and finally back to me before he acted. Snatching the cup from the guy, he glared at him.

“What was this?” As he spoke, he closed the distance until their faces were inches apart.

The guy smiled benignly and shrugged. “Just a little something to take the edge off, man. Your girl looked a little tense.”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Wyatt said evenly. “Just once more.”

Fearing that this was going to cause a scene, I stepped in between them. “Hey, babe. I’m fine,” I said confidently. “Don’t be mad.” I turned my back on the stranger and focused all my energy on diffusing the situation. “I didn’t speak to him,” I said brightly. His face lightened some. “And it worked. I’m feeling much better.”

“That’s right, princess. You will,” the guy said with a chuckle before walking off.

All my attention was focused on the handsome man before me. His brow was furrowed, making him look pained. Stroking his face, I wondered aloud, “Did I put that look there?” Frowning, I leaned close and readied my face for his kiss.

Only that kiss never came. Instead, he pushed me back some. “Willow, doll, you can’t do that. You can’t take a drink from a stranger. We don’t know what it was. You could have been poisoned.” He held both my hands in his tightly in between us.

My eyes teared up some. “I didn’t think,” I murmured, staring at our hands, completely unable to meet his eyes. “I’m fine. Really, I am.”

Lifting my chin with his finger, he forced me to look at him. Concern was evident in those deep blue eyes. Damn it. “Okay. I’m only trying to watch out for you. I brought you here. I’m responsible for you. Get it?” He waited expectantly for an answer.

Slowly, a smile spread across my face. “Got it.”

Apparently, he decided to drop it because he released one hand and kissed the one he still held before leading up the stairs at the front of the house. It felt nice being with him. Despite all the preconceived notions I had of him, Wyatt was lovely...a gentleman. One helluva guy. By the time we reached the second story, I was beaming. When he turned to look at me, I could see a wary look flash across his face. “How are you feeling, Willow?”

Shrugging, I smiled. “Good. Relaxed. Happy even.” Then I saw something out of the corner of my eye. The woman from outside was in the room just behind him. “Oh look!” I commented. Then I pushed past him and walked toward her. “Hi!” I called.

“Whoa,” he said, grabbing for my hand as I strolled past and very effectively halting my forward progress. Still turned toward her, I stood and waved while he tried to talk to me. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“Let me go,” I murmured. “My list,” I explained.

“There’s no same sex on the list,” he said in a light sing-song voice.

Pausing, I glanced at him. “No?”

“No.
The closest is a threesome,” he announced while shaking his head.

Tilting my head, I looked at him, and quickly closed the distance. “So, have you ever…”

With a disgusted sigh, he replied, “I have, but it doesn’t mean
you
should, that
we
should.” He held me a little more tightly. “This isn’t you,” he explained. “This is the drink, and whatever was in the drink, talking. You get that, right?”

Whimpering, I looked at him. “You don’t understand...I’m just so...hot. It’s like I
have
to do this, to quench this need that is driving me
crazy
.”

“Well, that cinches it,” he said as he picked me up and carried me toward the stairs. “We need to go now.”

“Right now?”
I cried.

The look on his face.
He didn’t answer me. Instead, he grew more intense, more determined to get me out of The Estate. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I buried my head in his neck, a combination of shame and security. There was something so comforting about his scent, utterly male, uniquely his own. It tickled my nostrils and had me nibbling along his throat soon enough. We were descending the stairs at a rapid speed. I’m generally not good with stairs. Thank God I wasn’t responsible for making it to the car. At the moment, my vision was strange...blurred. Hell, everything felt strange...except Wyatt. He felt just right. Oh, and since I couldn’t stop rubbing my hands up and down his arms and all over his chest, I would know.

Soon we were at my vehicle.
Setting me down for the briefest of moments, he opened the door and helped me into my seat, securing my seat belt for me. While he did, I kept pawing at him. The distance between us was just too great. It was incredibly important to me that he be close, really really close.

“Stop, doll,” Wyatt said sadly as he held my face.
In response to my confused look, he added, “Stop grinding your teeth.” He rubbed my jaw. “You probably don’t even know you’re doing it, but you need to focus, quit it or tomorrow, you’ll regret it.”

Tears welled up blurring my vision even more.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked sadly. “This isn’t me at all!”

“I know, doll.” Leaning in, he kissed me gently on the cheek before he pulled back, shut the door and walked around to his side. In a flash he had opened the driver’s side door and hopped in. After starting the car, he reached over and gripped my forearm in a gesture that was no doubt meant to reassure. It almost did.

Turning toward him, I began rubbing his thigh. At first it was supposed to show that I was okay, holding it together just fine. Only about five rubs in, he had his hand on top of mine and kept me from pawing him further.

“Doll,” he said sadly.

Frustration mounting, I moaned, “Can’t I just touch you? Isn’t that on the list somewhere?”

Shaking his head, he explained, “Willow, this is the drugs. I’m thinking it’s Ecstasy. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Tomorrow, you’ll be mostly fine.” He was silent a moment as he focused on turning into the gas station. “I’m getting you some water. Now think really hard. What is your schedule like tomorrow?”

Huh. He wasn’t joking. That was hard. My schedule. Somehow I was supposed to focus on my schedule when all I wanted to do was ease my suffering. Scrunching up my face, I concentrated the best I could. “No finals.” Pausing, I considered my afternoon. “Could go to my internship, but they know that hours are limited this week because of finals, so...I can be off.” Smiling, I was super proud of myself for being able to reason and power through this. Then I remembered that it was my own stupid fault I was suffering at the moment to begin with.
What a rookie move! Never accept a drink from a stranger!

“Good,” he murmured.
He seemed deep in thought, too. When he realized that I was sitting there staring at him, he squeezed my hand and looked over at me. “Don’t worry, Willow,” he said softly, “I’ll take good care of you.”

Nodding, I simply stared at him the rest of the ride home. It was a quiet ride, broken up only by his gentle commands to drink some water or suggestions that I stop grinding my teeth. He loosened up on his restrictions some and let me rub his leg while he drove. Though my vision was completely distorted there was something in his look that made me so sad. Clearly, I had ruined the night. Dammit.

As soon as we pulled up to his garage, he looked at me seriously.
“Don’t move. It’s still early. You are in no condition to meet the parents,” he said seriously.

Looking at him wide eyed, I shook my head.
“Can’t meet the folks like this.” Before I managed to sit up and get the seat belt unhooked, he had thrown open my door and was reaching out to me.

“Stop helping,” he murmured as he expertly pushed the button on the belt. “We need to get inside.”

So I stopped. I sat there and let him remove me from the vehicle, let him haul me into his arms, and carry me like I was precious to him. Once inside, I let him lay me on the bed. Then I waited. Waiting was the challenge.

In my version of the night, he would cover my body with his and we would finally...
finally
have sex. Wyatt was following some game plan that he had devised for how we were to conquer this list. The problem, as far as I could see, was that he had never stopped to consider the chances of human error. Oh, and I was the human likely to throw a wrench in the works. Tonight was a prime example. Seriously...we went to a swingers club...home of the sure thing...and left with nothing more than a kiss and some voyeurism. That...was crap! We should have knocked out a ton on that list. After all, our time is limited. He’s leaving and I’m hoping to get that column. Apparently at the moment, I’m out of commission. Gah!

Looking around, I wondered where Wyatt was, how he planned to take care of me.
When I located him, he was standing by the window, staring outside, apparently lost in thought. This wasn’t working for me at all.

“Hey,” I said, as I hauled myself off the bed. Somehow, I knew that I wasn’t going to be stable on those shoes, so I kicked them off before walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his naked torso. “You’re not wearing a shirt,” I announced, in case he didn’t know.

Chuckling, he added, “And you are only wearing a corset and some flimsy panties.” Shaking his head, he said, “What was I thinking...dressing you this way…” His voice trailed off.

Slowly, I tugged at his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. Once he did, I looked him in the eyes, as best I could with my eyes jumping around like they were. “You were thinking...
damn, she’ll look sexy and we’ll have an awesome night.
”

Smiling down at me, he nodded. “Yeah. Sounds about right.” The sadness threatened to cloud his face once more.

“We still can, you know,” I murmured. He looked doubtful. “I thought you were supposed to be taking care of me.”

“That’s what I said,” he admitted.

“Hope you meant it,” I responded in a playful tone. “I have some
needs
that should be taken care of.” Before he could say anything else, I took his hand and led him back to the bed. Though he opened his mouth to protest, I covered his lips with a finger and smiled while I pushed him back onto the bed.

“Willow,” he said as he prepared his objection. “This...isn’t you.”

Throwing back my head to laugh, I looked down at him as climbed on the bed to straddle him. “It is tonight,” I reminded him. “And we should take advantage of this. How many chances do you think you’ll have to cross off #48?” Then I leaned down and planted my lips on his, determined to sway him, to
make
him want me.

His brow furrowed, he asked confused, “What’s #48 again?”

Showing my sauciest smirk, I replied, “Sex while altered…”

A frustrated growl rose in his throat. Somehow, in that moment, I knew I had him. As many ill effects as I was suffering from the drug, I was also feeling pretty uninhibited in the best of ways. Maybe intercourse now would help us to get over the hump. After this, maybe all of the rest of our sexy time would be less scary, feel more natural. Maybe I needed this.

My hips slipped back and forth, rubbing my silken crotch over his growing erection. His hands were still behind his head, but I made sure to remedy that, tugging on his wrists and freeing them so I could place them wherever I wanted. At the moment, I wanted them all over me. His hands should be on my corseted chest, my ample ass, in my throbbing vagina. In turn, I was rubbing all over him. It was better, but not enough. Somehow, I knew it wouldn’t be enough until I felt him inside me, until I had my first orgasm with
a man
. Wyatt...was
all
man.