Kele Moon - Crossing the line

Tabitha reached out to him blindly, needing to touch him as she strained for completion. She wrapped her arms around those wide shoulders and pulled Wyatt closer as she arched deeper into his touch and moaned from the fight for completion.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Wyatt groaned against her ear. “Fuck, but I’ve missed you.”

Tabitha came with a shout, her entire body shaking from the force of it as she clung to Wyatt and rode out the wave after wave of pleasure that crashed over her. It was wild and shameless and one of the most amazing things she’d ever experienced in her life.

When the rush started to ebb, Tabitha ran her hands down Wyatt’s back, still holding him close. “What else do you think about?”

“Huh?” Wyatt’s voice was dazed.

“When you touch yourself? What else do you fantasize about?”

“Oh.” Wyatt swallowed hard, the quake of suppressed need making it come out in something close to a croak. “Everything, really. Seeing you. Touching you. Tasting you.”

“Fucking me?” Tabitha asked, sensing he was holding back.

“Yeah.” Wyatt shuddered in her arms and pressed his lips against her shoulder. “I think ’bout that a lot. Just completely drowning myself in you. Feeling you all around me. I miss it so much.”

It was Tabitha who guided him to her, because she thought about that too when the loneliness got to be too much. What it felt like to be so totally connected with Wyatt it was as if they were wrapped together into one, and she needed it desperately. Even if their souls were broken and fragmented, it felt like if they could just come together again, they’d fill in all those cracks and holes and be one whole, perfect soul instead of two damaged ones.

Wyatt really was a big man, and Tabitha was extrasensitive after such a powerful orgasm, but somehow they still fit. His cock stretched and filled her, and the pleasure was so white-hot all she could do was moan and push her hips up to take more of him.

His large hand held her hip as he took her slow, despite Tabitha shifting against his hold and begging for more. By the time he bottomed out, they were both panting and breathless. So full. It felt as if he had been made to be in her.

If he didn’t move, Tabitha felt like she’d die.

Fortunately the moment seemed to shatter the tight hold Wyatt had on his control, and that dangerous tiger he’d warned her about surged to the forefront. With a growl of defeat, he pulled out of Tabitha, only to take her hard the second time. She gasped from the reverberating surge of bliss it caused, and that seemed to be enough for him. He took her again before she’d even had a chance to catch her breath, and the pleasure was even more shocking the next time.

This wasn’t a gentle reunion; it was a claiming and rough in a way neither of them anticipated. Wyatt held down her hands and took her body over and over again with feral growls of pleasure. He dragged Tabitha along with him on the sea of ecstasy even if it felt a little like he was punishing her. It was harsh and filled with hurt, but they were together and that was so much better than being alone. She still felt safe and wrapped up in him until all she could feel were the strokes of his body moving in hers, every single one pushing her higher and higher until she was shaking with the need for a second release.

It became too much for Wyatt, and he stiffened over her with a furious gasp, making it obvious he hadn’t planned on it. Tabitha was afraid she’d have to finish another way, but then he leaned down and demanded in a harsh rasp against her ear, “Do it. Come for me, Tabby.”

And she did, just like that, Tabitha bowed to the pleasure. She came because he told her to, proving that his hold over her hadn’t lessened in time. If anything, it was more encompassing than ever.

They rode out the storm together, trembling in each other’s arms as Wyatt’s hips slammed into hers to the hard, erratic pulse of his orgasm and her body milked him in response. Then Wyatt was over her, crushing the air out of her chest and panting in her ear. She just savored the feel of being pressed into the mattress and holding him as tight as possible as he took several minutes to come down from the high.

When his breathing finally evened out, Wyatt said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tabitha assured him. “It was perfect.”

“I don’t think it was perfect. It was quick and messy and not at all how I pictured it. I need more time.” Wyatt pushed up, making his massive biceps bunch as he looked down at her in concern. “Once’s not gonna cut it, Tab.”

Tabitha’s gaze darted to the ceiling uncertainly. Things were nice now, but she had so many issues Wyatt didn’t know about. “Wy—”

“I know you had plenty of good reasons to end us,” Wyatt started, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t think I don’t take at least half the blame, but you’re here now, and I think you owe it to what we were to give us more time.”

“I can’t live in Garnet,” she said in anguish. “I’m not staying.”

“And I’m not asking you to.” It was a harsh reminder that neither of them might be able to recover from what leaving had done to a love that was once beautiful and perfect. His light eyes narrowed as he studied her. “But I am telling you I need more than one afternoon with my wife who’s been MIA for the past thirteen years. I got a big house all to myself with a whole lot of empty rooms. Makes no sense for you to be renting this place from Terry. You can stay with me till you get everything settled with your mother.”

“We can’t just—”

“We sure as heck can.” Wyatt cut her off. “And I ain’t taking no for an answer.”

When Tabitha would’ve argued again, Wyatt kissed her. She’d like to think she was a strong, independent woman who wasn’t prone to being swayed by his cavemannish tactics to persuade her, but the truth was she wanted more time too.

They’d lost too much, too soon, and a little more time was too tempting to resist.

It was foolish and impractical and likely dangerous as hell for both of them, but then, Wyatt had always been the one to make Tabitha believe in the impossible.

Still connected like they were, she could feel him get harder as they kissed, reminding her of sweaty nights a long time ago when they could stay wrapped up in each other for hours. His lips became softer, less demanding as his hips started moving in her a second time, and everything became enveloped in the misty memories of the past when youth made them invincible and love made them courageous to the point of stupidity.

Every story had an innocent beginning, even theirs, and Tabitha found herself wishing she had a chance to go back and relive it one more time, because she didn’t want to let go any more than Wyatt did.

September 1986

Wyatt Conner loved red hair. He liked the way it shone in the early-morning sun, like the brightest, newest kind of penny. He liked freckles too. He found himself wanting to spend a day trying to count all of them sprinkled over one pert, slightly upturned nose.

Wyatt pressed his face to the window, stretching the seat belt.

“Stop it.” Wyatt’s sister Jules punched his arm. “You’re making it pinch me.”

Wyatt stayed where he was. “Good.”

“Daddy!” Her voice was shrill enough to make Wyatt wince. “He’s making the belt pinch me.”

“Boy, sit up straight.” His father reached around Jules and lightly smacked the back of Wyatt’s head for good measure. Then he turned back to his police radio and pushed the button on the mic. “Sorry, the twins are fighting again. Go on.”

The police radio crackled with the voice of Deputy Henry Caraway, properly distracting their father. Wyatt sent a scowl at his sister, but she just gave him a smug smile before she worked on straightening her headband and then ran her fingers through her long blonde hair.

“I hate you,” Wyatt told her matter-of-factly.

Unfazed, Jules stuck her tongue out at him.

“Dang it, lemme call ya back once the school opens up.” His father hung the microphone back on the police radio mounted on the dash. Then he turned to glare at Jules. “Ladies aren’t supposed to be letting their tongues hang out like that. What would your mama think if she just happened to be looking down from heaven? On the first day of school, don’t think she ain’t watching.”

Jules glanced up at their father with big blue eyes that shone with false innocence. “I didn’t.”

“Juliet Emma Conner. I saw you with the eyes God gave me.”

“I had something on my teeth. I’m just trying to look good for the first day of school.”

Their father frowned, his dark eyebrows scrunching together in disbelief. “You’re saying you weren’t just starting something with your brother?”

Jules blinked, still maintaining a look of perfect righteousness. “I give ya my word, Daddy.”

Wyatt snorted in disbelief. If his father fell for that, he’d put himself up for adoption.

“Well, seeing how Conners know better than to lie.” Their father leaned down, looking at Jules critically. “Lemme see your teeth. Can’t be showing up a mess for your new teacher.”

Jules beamed, showing off a sparking smile that smelled like mint toothpaste.

Wyatt thought he might lose his breakfast.

“Pretty as a penny,” their father announced as he leaned down and kissed the top of Jules’s head. “You look just like your mama in that color blue.”