CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Even though Vica slept so much better in Wyatt's bed than she did on the couch, she was still a fairly light sleeper. So when the door opened, and a little voice whispered, "Dad?" She stirred and woke up immediately.

Blinking open her eyes, she waited for them to adjust before she could clearly see who it was. "Jake?" she finally asked.

"Where's my dad?"

That was a good question.

"Is he not on the couch? Or yours or Griffon's floor?"

Jake shook his head. "Not our floors." He stepped out of the bedroom and quietly padded down the hallway to check the couch. This gave Vica the opportunity to grab her pajamas and pull them on. "He's not on the couch," Jake said, coming back.

Hmmm .

"What's the matter, orsetto?" She opened up an arm and welcomed him to climb onto the bed for a hug. To her delight, he did. She kissed the top of his head. "Talk to me. "

"I had a bad dream."

"Ah. Si. In Italian we call that an incubo . Do you remember it? Do you want to talk about it?"

He shuddered slightly in her embrace, but nodded. "It was about the accident. But I dreamed that my dad died. And that Griffon and I had no parents."

"Oh, dio . That is very scary." She brushed his unruly mop of hair off his forehead and kissed him there. "But you know that is not real. Right? Your dad is still very alive. It was just an incubo ."

"I know. But it felt really real. I woke up crying. And then when he wasn't in the bed, I was scared that it was true. That he actually was dead."

The kid was going to make Vica cry. "I can assure you, sweetheart, that he is not. He is alive … somewhere." She sighed. "You know, I was six when my mom died. I was there when it happened too."

He glanced up at her. "Was it scary?"

"Very."

"I was little when my mom died, so I don't really remember anything. I was three, and Emme was four. She says that she remembers feeling sad, but that's it. And I'm sort of the same. Mostly now I just dream about having no parents. Like my dad dying too."

" Tesoro mio . I am so sorry."

"But in this dream, I know that my mom is gone. But then my dad dies too. And then I take Griffon by the hand, and we just walk down the road together. And the road never stops. Then Griffon stars crying, saying his feet hurt, and he wants to go home. That he wants to go back to Dad. But I tell him we can't. That our dad is gone. So I piggyback him as long as I can. But then my feet start to hurt, and Griffon's cries get louder, and I tell him he needs to be brave."

Tears stung the back of Vica's eyes, and her throat was painfully tight.

So all she could do was hug Jake tighter.

"I know you and my dad are like married and stuff, but it's mostly pretend. Right?" He glanced up at her .

What was she supposed to say to this? Yes, sort of. But they did have sex, and she was in love with him?

Before she could answer, he spoke again. "It'd be cool if it wasn't so pretend though. I'd like to have you as a mom. You're fun. And then if something did happen to Dad, Griffon and I wouldn't be alone. We'd have a parent."

She couldn't stop the tear that broke free and slid down her cheek. "Oh, tesoro mio. You have so much family. You would never be on your own. You are loved by many. So many people."

He swallowed and held eye contact with her. "Do you love us?"

She wrapped her other arm around him now as well. "I never thought I could fall in love with someone else's children—let alone so fast. But oh my goodness, Jake. I love you and Griffon so very much. You have my heart, little bear. You and your wolf of a brother have my whole heart." She kissed his forehead again, then pulled back and looked at him. Now the tears were falling from her eyes freely. She forced a smile even though her heart was breaking for this little boy and all that he was processing.

"I promise not to break your heart," he said. "I love you too, Vica."

She pulled him back in for another hug. " Amore mio, I love you so very much. You make my life so much richer and better. My heart is full with love for you."

A creak on the floor at the door had them both pulling away and glancing sideways at where Wyatt stood with wide eyes.

"Where were you, Dad?" Jake asked, not bothering to untangle himself from Vica.

"I, uh … I got an alert on my phone about a leak in the kitchen. So I ran down to the restaurant to check it out." He stepped deeper into the bedroom, his eyes laser-focused on Vica.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, taking in his all-black attire. She didn't believe for a second that he was down in the restaurant kitchen. "Did you find the leak?"

It was almost like he forgot his lie for a moment and pinched his brows together in confusion before blinking and nodding. "Oh, yeah. It was just an ice cube that melted and hit the sensor. All good."

"Should you really be running down to the restaurant? I thought you were taking it easy?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and scanning his body.

He was keeping something from her, and she hoped it was just for Jake's sake and that Wyatt would come clean when his son was out of earshot.

"I walked briskly," he replied with a cheeky tone. "I am taking it easy. I swear."

"What time is it?" she asked, glancing at her phone on the nightstand.

"Just shy of five."

Pulling in a deep breath through her nose, she swung her legs over the side of bed. "Well, I am awake now."

"I'm sorry," Jake said. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

She turned back and cupped his cheek. "Do not be sorry, orsetto . You can come to me any time. I will always wake up for you. I am not mad. I just hope I helped."

Jake nodded. "You did. Thank you." He climbed off the bed and yawned. "I'm going to try to go back to sleep for a bit."

Wyatt ran his hand affectionately over his son's head. "I'll come tuck you in, buddy."

"I'm okay, Dad."

Wyatt frowned, but let his son go without pushing the issue. Once they heard Jake's door close, Vica approached Wyatt in the middle of his bedroom. "All black was the first thing you could find to put on to run down to the restaurant?"

He didn't even bother to hide it. "No."

"Because you didn't go down to the restaurant."

"No. I didn't."

"Where did you go?"

"To look for the car that tried to run you off the road."

Vica's eyes flew open wide. "Did you? "

She could already tell by the way anger flickered behind the blue-hazel of his gaze that he had.

Dread swirled in her belly. "Who?"

But all he did was shake his head. "We need more answers before we know for sure. It doesn't make sense where we found it."

Nothing made sense anymore. "But where is it? And did it have damage on the front? Was it the same car that ran us off the road?"

"No damage from what we could see."

"So then there are more people than just the one who tried to hit me."

Gripping her by the shoulders, he guided her over to the bed and made her sit down. "Trust me, Vica. I'm angry too. And it took Bennett and Clint to keep me from kicking open the person's door and getting answers. But we need to do this the correct way for it to stick. We trespassed on property and took photos while trespassing. This could get thrown out of court because there was no warrant."

Exhaling and quickly realizing everything Wyatt said made total sense, Vica nodded. "Okay. I get it."

"But it's a lead. And a big one. We're one step closer to solving this."

It didn't feel like it, but she continued to nod anyway.

Cupping her jaw, he stared down at her. "I heard you and Jake."

"You don't mind that I—"

"I am grateful. So grateful. And I'm also stupid."

Her brows knitted together. "Stupid?"

"I've been so focused on recovering from my own injuries that I completely forgot about my sons and what they must be processing and going through. Just because they're physically fine doesn't mean that they are emotionally. Dear god," he shoved his fingers through his hair, "Jake's dreaming about me dying."

Ah.

She nodded and leaned into his palm. "It is a lot to process when a parent dies and the children are old enough to really understand. I was six when my mother passed. And then my dad was in a vespa accident when I was twelve. He was hospitalized and in a coma for two days while they waited for the brain swelling to go down. It was the most terrified I have ever been in my life. Lorenzo and I thought we would be orphans. Or shipped off to family that wanted nothing to do with us. But he woke up and was okay. But I had nightmares for a while after that. Similar to what Jake is experiencing. That my parents were both dead, and my brother and I were alone."

"Fuck." He hung his head. He dropped his hand from her cheek and raked all ten fingers through his hair enough to make it stand up at the roots.

"But, the difference between my story and Jake's is that he has a big family here that loves and wants him. He and Griffon would be taken care of by people who they know and love. Lorenzo and I had nobody. He will be okay. Of this, I am sure. He is so strong. And so smart. And his dad is so loving and on top of things. But it is at nighttime, when we sleep, that we process. That our brain has time to get organized."

"You always know just what to say to make it all make sense and feel less … impossible. Thank you. For speaking with Jake and … easing my heart too."

Fresh tears stung the back of her eyes as he brought his mouth down to hers.

Their kisses began slow and languid, but there was a fire in Wyatt's belly that needed to be set free. And it was going to either come out as rage or passion.

He chose passion.

Ripping his hoodie over his head, then his T-shirt, she had him naked from the waist down and lying on top of her. His hand traveled up and under her pajama shorts, where he found her wet and aching for him.

But reality hit her in the brain quickly when she remembered that the door was open.

"The door," she breathed.

He grunted, but stood up and locked it, unbuckling his black jeans in the process. She shimmied out of her shorts and peeled off her tank top with haste. But rather than covering her again, he reached for her hand and pulled her over to stand in front of a full-length mirror .

She had faint tan lines on her shoulders and across her thighs from where she'd been outside on the hillside with the children the other day, wearing shorts and a tank top. She had no issues with her body. Felt no shame standing there naked.

Was she perfect? Of course not. But her body worked hard for her. And she treated it kindly. She exercised and ate well. She took care of the body that took care of her. Nudity had never been an issue as a child, or adult. Nude beaches were prevalent all over Europe and even though she didn't always go topless at beaches, in her twenties she did, and never felt any embarrassment or shame about it. She liked her body, and she knew she was among the minority of women, at least in this country. She didn't take that lightly.

Leaving her standing there, he went over to the corner of the room and picked up a wooden chair which he brought over and positioned six feet in front of the mirror. He sat down and pulled her into his lap so they were both facing forward.

Leaning back against him, she let him mold her to his body and spread her legs how he wanted. "Fuck, that's hot," he murmured as he slid two fingers between her legs and opened up her pussy lips. "You're already wet for me."

Her gaze became transfixed on his fingers as they slid back and forth over her clit, stirring those already smoking embers of desire in her belly, into hot, flickering flames.

Then he slid one finger inside her while his thumb raked her clit. His left hand massaged her left breast, tugging at her nipple until it was painfully hard. But her eyes remained focused on his hand between her legs and that finger slipping inside her.

"You like that?" he purred next to her ear before nipping the lobe. Their gazes met in the mirror.

Vica nodded.

"Would you like another finger, pretty girl?"

"Please," she breathed .

He pulled the first finger out, then slid the second one in with the first. She squeezed her muscles around them, and he pushed them in deeper, curling them up until she gasped.

"That is so fucking hot," he murmured. "I can't wait until it's my cock disappearing inside of you."

She couldn't wait either.

Slowly, his fingers fucked her, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. It wasn't until he flicked her clit hood with the nail of his thumb that she finally broke. Her lips parted, and she sucked in a sharp gasp of air as the pleasure spread through her body from her center like a liquid warmth. Endless rivers and tributaries within her flooded over with a pulsating euphoria. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back, resting it on Wyatt's shoulder.

"Mouth," he demanded, taking hers before she could give it to him.

The angle wasn't great, but she kind of liked the sloppy, passionate kiss. They were all tongues, and teeth, and lips. Kissing and grappling for more of each other as he fucked her with his fingers, pushing her orgasm to last longer.

She was panting short, breathy puffs through her nose now as each wave of the climax rocked her. By the time it receded, she was completely out of breath and spent.

But she already knew Wyatt had more plans for them.

She needed to rally.

Taking a few deep breaths, with her exhales coming out on a shudder, she melted into him, sure that he would keep her from falling.

"Up," he grunted, slowly removing his fingers from her and holding her by the waist so that she could stand up on her wobbly legs.

Gripping his cock, he angled it at her center, brushing her sensitive, swollen lips and making her whimper.

"Sit."

Their eyes locked in the mirror again as she slowly sunk back down, taking him inside her one inch at a time. His groan had her nipples pebbling again and her pussy waking back up as the stretch roused erogenous zones that had taken a nap since last night.

"Now that is fucking hot," he said, his gaze dropping to where he was sinking into her.

She swallowed and nodded, mesmerized by what she saw.

"Can your feet hit the floor well enough?" he asked.

So caught up in what she was watching, she had to pause to process what he asked. That made him smile.

"Um … si ." She planted her feet on the floor and bobbed up and down a few times.

He groaned. "Slow, baby"

She nodded again and did as he said, lifting up, then sinking down. And oh, did it ever feel good. Biting her lip, she brought her hand between her legs and to where he disappeared inside her, feeling his length slide in and out of her. Growing wetter with each plunge.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice a rough and sexy grit in her ear.

"Yeah …"

She lifted back up, so no more than the tip of him remained inside her pussy. Then she smiled coyly at Wyatt and did a little hip swirl before squeezing her muscles tight and sinking back down, slower than ever.

"Witch," he growled, grabbing her by the hair and craning her neck around to take her mouth again.

She smiled as he pushed his tongue between her lips, and she dropped all the way into his lap so he was fully seated inside her.

Her quadriceps were getting a burning workout, and her pussy was incredibly happy. So she did it again. Lifted up until just the tip remained, swirled around, squeezed her muscles, and dropped so slowly her thighs began to tremble.

With another growl, Wyatt broke the kiss, gripped her by the hips, and pulled her down onto his lap. "You play …" he gritted out .

Their gazes locked in the mirror again, and what stared back at her was pure animal in rut. He wasn't going to last much longer—and neither was she. This play, this passion, and the fact that she could see and feel him disappearing into her, that she could see where they were connected, just galvanized the intensity of it all.

Wyatt had her heart now, so it wasn't just sex for her. It was so much more.

Even if he didn't feel the same way, she knew she'd never be the same now that she'd met and fallen in love with Wyatt McEvoy. The man was good. He was kind. He was pure passion and all soul.

She was a better person for knowing him. A better person for loving him.

"You do that one more time, little witch, and I'm going to fill you up," he rumbled.

Her eyes went wide. Oh, this man was really, really good at the dirty talk.

Who knew she had a closet kink for being called a witch? But she did. She liked it.

Biting her bottom lip, she planted her feet firmly on the ground, locked eyes with him, and stood up until only the tip of him remained. "Rub my clit," she whispered.

A wolfish smile curled his mouth, and he did as he was told.

Heat flooded her veins, and the need to come again increased tenfold inside her belly. She swirled her pussy lips around the tip of his cock for the last time. Because they both knew that when she finally sunk down, they were both going to lose it.

"Now," he said, his voice low, dark, and dripping sex.

Their gazes remained locked as she squeezed her muscles tighter than ever and watched him and his cock disappear inside her. When she bottomed out, Wyatt threw his head back. His fingers paused on her clit and his cock began to pulse inside of her. It was that pulsing against her walls, and the throbbing of his fingertips on her clit that pitched her over the edge one more time.

She pinched her eyes shut, leaned back against his shoulder, and gave herself over to the pleasure. To Wyatt and the way he made her feel. Protected. Cared for. And not alone.

Even though their life together was temporary, she planned to make the most of every moment. Because someone out there wanted her dead. So while she still lived, she was going to live life to the fullest, and that meant loving Wyatt to the fullest too.

Because her heart hadn't really given her any other option.