21. WREN

21

WREN

Wyatt drives the four wheeler around the south side of their property. We pass the old barn they've been cleaning out most of the day. Lenny waves at us from a large pile of scrap metal she's perched on.

The wind whips my hair and I inhale the fresh spring air. The air is crisper further away from the main house and all the animals. It's lighter and invigorating. It seeps into my skin making me feel free and untethered.

"It's going to rain soon," he shouts over the wind. "We won't be able to stay long." The clouds are starting to look angry a few miles out.

We weave around dirt paths, slowly making our way up the hill through a crop of trees. The elevation is gradual. I hardly notice it until Wyatt stops at the top of one of the many rolling hills where the land flattens out and the trees disappear behind us.

Below you can see the main house and the barns in the distance. I hadn't realized we traveled that far. The land surrounding us is wide open and gives the illusion that it goes on forever.

There are no boundaries here. It explains Wyatt's abhorrence to rules—he's lived with a freedom I've never known. I'm jealous of him in that regard.

A hundred yards or so behind us is a small barn. Yet, another building that looks to be on its last legs of life. A strong breeze would likely shake a few boards loose or tear at the roof.

"I love it out here. When I was a kid I would get all my chores done and then ride my bike up to this spot. Camped out in that barn more nights than I slept in my own bed."

Wyatt settles himself on the ground and taps the space beside him. Surely he doesn't expect me to lay right in the grass. There are spiders, ants, and Lord knows what else crawling around down there.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. Come here and watch the clouds with me while the sky's still blue."

Hesitantly I lay myself down. The grass is cooler than I expected it to be. And soft—almost fluffy like a sponge. Wyatt scoots closer until we're shoulder to shoulder. His skin is warm and comforting compared to the cooler air from the impending rain.

"It's pretty," I say.

"My favorite color blue. There is something about staring at the sky and the clouds that makes you think about your life. What are you thinking about right now?"

"Who says I'm thinking anything?" I ask.

"I can hear your mind working overtime, birdie," he jokes.

"Maybe I'm thinking about all the promises you made in the kitchen." I shift my body and turn toward him. I lean on my elbow and pick at a few blades of grass.

"I haven't stopped thinking about last night."

I run a finger through his wind blown hair. "Are we going to survive this?" I ask.

"I'm not sure what you're asking me."

I don't know if I'm sure either. "I might regret saying this, but I kind of like having you around. I don't want us to sleep together and have everything be weird afterwards."

He wraps his arm underneath my body and pulls me closer to him, grabbing my thigh and yanking it over his. "I woke up this morning with you just like this." He hugs me tighter. "I could get used to that." The heat in his eyes knocks my breath loose. "But I know I can't."

"Because you don't do relationships."

He looks away then back at me. "Right. And you don't do feelings. We're the perfect candidates for a no strings attached relationship. Purely physical." He squeezes my ass for emphasis.

"No feelings, no strings," I mumble. "Until graduation?" I question.

"Until we're done," he says. Graduation is a few months away. Considering Wyatt only sleeps with a girl once and he's done, I can see how continuing until graduation would feel like too much of a commitment.

"And then we're back to friends?"

"Always, birdie. "

I hope he means that. I can't predict the future. I know we both have a lot to get through. I really want my best friend by my side for all of it.

"Good." I reach down and run a hand over his dick. He begins to harden under my touch. "Because if you haven't noticed, we aren't in your mama's house right now." Not that I was able to stick to my little rule last night.

That rule flew out the window the minute he walked out of the bathroom in his underwear.

"Fuck." He flips me on to my back. "You want me to take you right here? Fuck you into the dirt?" He rolls his hips and I feel every hard inch of him. Yes. I think I would like him to do that very much.

Out of nowhere lightning strikes in the distance and two seconds later thunder crashes.

"Damn it." He groans into my neck. "We better get out of here before it's too—" Wyatt doesn't reach the end of his sentence before gallons of water start dropping from the sky. He hops up and pulls me with him.

He is a blur in between sheets of cold rain as he runs toward the four wheeler. My glasses are fogging and I've lost my sense of direction. I'm completely disoriented. "Wyatt!" I scream out for him.

"I'm here. We're going to have to make a run for the barn. Take my hand."

The rain hits my bare arms like a thousand needles as we slip around on the slick grass. My hair is plastered to my face making it even more impossible to see.

"Almost there," he shouts. Good because my legs feel like they might give out.

He lifts the latch on the barn door and pushes me inside first. It's dark. Not quite pitch black, but it might as well be with my poor eyesight.

"Don't move. I'm going to turn on a lantern."

"You have one?" I ask, wringing the water out of my hair.

"Among other things. We'll be good here until morning."

"Morning? We can't stay here all n-night." I start to shiver. Even without the rain and wind, it's freezing in here.

"Why not? It will be an adventure," he says, as he moves around the barn. Suddenly a warm yellow light begins to glow. "It isn't much but it will do."

"I-it's b-better th-than n-nothing."

He rushes to me. "You're freezing." He pushes my wet hair off my face. "I'm going to get you a blanket."

Now that there is light, I walk around the barn in a pathetic attempt to get warm. It's nicer on the inside than I thought it would be. The ground is mainly dirt with a few patches of grass growing through the cracks between the ground and the wooden walls.

He digs inside a trunk in the corner and comes out holding a few wool blankets. They don't exactly scream cozy. I suppose now isn't the time to be picky.

He lays one down on the dirt. Then proceeds to take off his shirt.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I ask. My eyes are glued to his sculpted body.

"We' ll freeze in our clothes. You need to undress and wrap up in a dry blanket." He unbuttons his jeans and begins to step out of them. With a blanket wrapped over his shoulders, Wyatt gives me his back and takes off his underwear. Interesting. Is he shy or being a gentleman again?

He's draped his clothes over one of the stall rails. I do the same with mine. Wyatt doesn't take his eyes off me as I speed walk toward him completely naked to get my blanket. If I wasn't freezing, I would have at least attempted to look sexy.

"Warmer?"

"A little." I lay down on the blanket in the fetal position and try to keep myself from shivering. It isn't working.

"Let me keep you warm, birdie." Wyatt lifts his blanket enough for me to slip underneath it. I bury myself in his chest while he works to readjust our blankets so they are layered and covering both of us. "Is this okay?"

"Fine except for your dick chaffing my thigh. Can you put it away?" I shiver and inadvertently rub myself against his erection making him growl.

"No, I can't put it away, birdie. I'm not a Mr. Potato Head. I can't remove my cock and put it back on when it's time to use it."

"That's not what I mean. Tuck it in or something."

"Sure, I'll put it away in my penis pocket." He glares at me. "You're one to talk. Your nips are drawing on my chest like a damn Etch A Sketch every time you move."

"I'm freezing. I can't help it. Isn't your dick supposed to get smaller when it's cold?"

Lightning strikes over the pasture, lighting up the barn in a quick flash. I flinch and dip my head deeper into his chest.

"Typically yes. Except you're here. And when you're around, well, this is what happens." He runs a hand down my back. It's meant to be comforting but instead it's turning me on. The light caress sends shivers down my spine.

I drag a hand down his side. His skin breaks out in tiny goosebumps under my touch. I do it again and his muscles seize. He looks at me with a fierceness that has my heart beating out of my chest.

His fingers curl around my hip. Is it a warning? Or is he encouraging me?

"You going to finish what you started outside?" he asks.

"I think I might." Snaking my arm up his chest and around his neck, I run my fingers through his hair and tug gently. Just enough to pull him closer to my mouth.

For me kissing has always been the equivalent to putting keys in a car. You do it once to start the car and get the engine going. Once I got the guy turned on, I didn't need to repeat the step again. I didn't want to.

When I kiss Wyatt, we aren't just kissing to get to the next thing. His lips roam over my body with precision as if he is drawing a map and making notes on how I respond to his touch.

He kisses my neck and scrapes his teeth over the freckle I have there making my hips buck and my body slide against his. He travels lower down my chest, his mustache grazing my sensitive skin. I've decided that I am very much pro mustache and look forward to this same feeling between my thighs.

He pushes me on my back and covers me from limb to limb. He's keeping me warmer than any blanket ever could. "I missed you last night," he says, working himself further down my body.

Cool air washes over my body as he positions himself between my legs. I'm so desperate for him after watching him walk around the house in his jeans and ripped shirts exposing all of his oblique muscles. I'll never complain about folding his old ratty T-shirts again. In fact, I may go through all his shirts and cut the sleeves off myself.

"I was looking forward to doing this all day yesterday." He drags his tongue up my left thigh. My body shivers and it isn't from the cold. "Kept thinking how good you were going to taste." He licks my right thigh and bites me at the juncture of my thigh and hip, making me whimper.

He spreads my thighs apart with his shoulders. My muscles burn from stretching further than they're used to as he licks me up my wet center and my heels dig into the blankets.

"Fucking delicious," he says, before going back for another taste. I move my ass around and pull on his hair to get him where I want him—where I need him—but he doesn't seem to care. He throws his arm over my hips, pinning me down.

"Wyatt," I plead with him. I need more.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, putting a finger inside me. "You liked this the other night." He adds a second finger stretching me. "Or maybe you want me to play with your clit. That's what really gets you going. Doesn't it, birdie?" He licks and sucks on my clit while working his fingers inside me.

"Yes!" I moan and tighten my grip on his hair. He switches out his fingers for his tongue. His mustache tickles my skin and when he pushes against my clit, my muscles tighten and waves of pleasure roll through me. "Wyatt," I say, breathlessly as he continues to clean up the mess he's made of me.

He crawls back over my body, kissing me as he goes. He cages my head in with his arms and drags his cock between my legs. The sensation is almost too much. "Wyatt," I plead, clinging to his biceps.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Look at how desperate your greedy little cunt is for my cock." He adds a little more pressure and I almost come again. Instead he pulls back. "No way. You don't get to come again until I'm inside you," he says, then speed walks over to where we laid out our wet clothes to dry. He comes back with a condom and hands it to me. "Put it on me, birdie."

Drunk on desire he kneels between my legs like a statue. I want to study every sculpted inch of him. I run a finger along the ridge of bone at his waist. He tenses and shoots me a warning with his eyes. I rip the foil package open with my teeth and toss it aside. He releases a feral groan when I finally wrap my hand around him.

I take my time feeling the smooth velvety skin of his cock and teasing him, before my impatience gets the best of me.

He removes my glasses and puts them to the side. I start to protest. I won't be able to see him very well. I can see enough to not run into walls, but I barely caught the wink he gave me the other night. I'm guessing it was a wink. He could have just been blinking for all I know.

I don't want to miss his smile or the way his brow bends in concentration.

"Just feel me, birdie," he says, placing my hands on his face. "Feel what you do to me." He pushes the tip of his cock inside and releases a low groan. Then drags it back out slowly and pushes back in at a similar speed. He takes his time allowing me to acclimate to his size.

There is a gentleness to his touch that is unexpected. His movements are purposeful. A hand on my face. Then my breast and down my side and back again. He dips his head into my neck, kissing and nipping my sensitive skin.

"Birdie," he groans my name. "Feels fucking perfect, birdie."

My heart careens with his words, falling deeper with this man. It's too much, but I can't stop begging him for more.

"Is this the best you got?" I ask to provoke him on and remove the weight I feel on my heart. "You said you would ruin me."

He takes a slow breath, then grips me underneath my thighs and thrusts into me hard enough to knock the wind out of me. He pulls his cock out slowly, almost to the tip, then slams back into me again. "Is this what you want?" He folds himself over my body to whisper in my ear .

We're alone in the middle of nowhere. There's no need to whisper. Yet, he does. He draws me near and grips the back of my neck.

"Do you want me to fuck you so hard your cunt only craves my cock? Because I will."

"Yes. That's what I want," I say, dragging my nails across his skin clawing at his back. He grunts and growls into my neck, pumping harder, faster, striking me exactly where I need him most. The tension builds down my spine. I wrap my legs around Wyatt, pulling him closer as my pussy tightens around him and I come.

"Fuck, baby." His hair falls over his eyes and I push it out of the way. I caress his face, looking for any indication of how he's feeling. His jaw is tight and he's biting down on his lip. His cock swells then pulses inside me. "Do you feel that?" he asks, cradling my face in his hands. I nod. "Do you feel how good you milk my cock? You're fucking perfect." He leans down to kiss me.

I want to see his eyes. They tell me so much. His brown eyes turn dark when he's aroused and have a little glow when he's happy. Other than the outline of a grin and dip of his cheeks from his dimples, I'm clueless.

He collapses on top of me in a sweaty heap. I welcome the pressure. I can blame the heaviness I feel on his body weight and not the emotions I have swirling through me from having sex with my best friend.

I've always treated the act of intercourse as procedural. There were steps. The final step of getting dressed always occurs immediately after the climax, then we say goodbye and don't speak until our next hook-up.

It worked for me. It kept everything clean and easy. When the situationship ran its course, there was no love lost. We went on with our lives as if nothing happened.

There is no walking away from this—from him. My fingers comb through Wyatt's hair as we catch our breaths. His lips rest on my shoulder. One of his hands tenderly rubs circles on my side.

Once you have a man like Wyatt Rivers in your grasp, you cling to him as tight as you can and hope you are strong enough to last for the whole ride.