Stay with Me (With Me in Seattle 9)

“You cook?” I stare at him, shocked. “Like, more than macaroni and cheese?”

“Well, I won’t make that now,” he replies, making me laugh again. “Yes, I cook. I’m a single guy. If I don’t cook, I starve.”

“Or go out to eat all the time,” I reply, already looking forward to seeing him later. “What time should I come over?”

“Six? Or whenever you’re done with work. You can earn your keep and look beautiful in my kitchen.”

“It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

He pays the bill, and leads me out to his car, then drives me home.

“You could have parked in your own driveway,” I say as I step out of his vehicle.

“I’m taking you home from a date,” he reminds me. “And if you walked home from my driveway, I couldn’t do this.”

He pins me against the front door and leans down, one hand on my hip, the other caging me in. His lips graze over my cheek on their way to my mouth, and then I’m plunged into the sexiest after-date kiss on record.

My hands push under his shirt to his warm, smooth skin and hold on tight as his mouth plunders mine.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmurs against me. “Come right over when you’re finished working.”

It’s not a question. I nod and reach behind me for the doorknob, and sigh when I remember it’s locked. I turn away from him to quickly unlock it, but of course, I can’t get the key in the stupid hole, and I feel like a bumbling idiot.

Wyatt takes the little piece of metal from my fingers and helps me.

“Okay.” I swallow hard. “I’ll see you soon.”

I step inside, close the door, and lean against it, willing my breathing to slow down.

Wyatt is one sexy man.

~Wyatt~

I’ve looked at the same email four times in a row, and I couldn’t tell you what it says if my life depended on it.

I can’t get a certain sexy blonde out of my head. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s smart and funny. Honest.

Honesty is imperative.

I lived with a liar for more years than I should have. I won’t do it again.

No, Amelia is a breath of fresh air.

I shut the laptop and walk into the kitchen. I haven’t shopped in a few days, but there should be something here that I can whip together.

Just when I’m staring at the salad stuff, not impressed because we had a salad for lunch, the doorbell rings.

It’s four thirty.

“Hey,” Amelia says when I open the door. “I know I’m early, but you said—”

Before she can finish the statement, I pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her, leaving us both breathless.

“You were saying?”

“I have no idea,” she says with a laugh. I take her hand and lead her into the kitchen, where she sits on a stool and sets her phone on the countertop.

“Did you get your work done?” I ask.

“Yes, the video is uploaded; I’m just waiting for it to go live, so I’ll keep an eye on my phone for a minute. I also went through and replied to comments on last week’s video, then replied to people on social media.”

“That’s a lot of people interaction.”

“Totally. But it’s fun. I’d say ninety percent of the people who engage with me are nice.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“Oh, they’re creepers, mean girls, trolls. I skip over those. They used to really hurt my feelings or make me mad, but now I don’t give them any energy.”

“There’s the optimism again.”

She grins, her beautiful face lighting up. Her eyes are crazy blue. Brighter than the sky.

“I can’t be depressed every day because people I don’t know don’t like me.”

“Well, no. You can’t.” I lean on the counter and watch her, enjoying having her in my house.

“So, what are you making for dinner?” she asks.

I smile. “I’m not sure. My supplies are lower than I thought, so I’ll probably just order from Uber Eats, if that works.”

“You mean, I don’t get to try out your stellar cooking skills?”

“Next time.”

“Fine by me,” she says with a shrug and then checks her phone. “Oh, there it is. I’m going to watch the first couple of minutes to make sure it’s okay.”

She presses play, and her voice comes out of the phone. Amelia is scrutinizing the screen, listening intently. After a short few minutes, she stops it and nods. “Not bad.”

“I think it’s pretty awesome.”

“Thanks.” She gets lost in tapping on her phone and scrolling, and then she finally turns off the phone and tosses it into her bag. “There. I’m not working any more this evening.”

“Me neither.”

“Did you get some work done, too?” she asks and props her chin in her hand.

“A little.” I lean across from her, my arms folded over my chest. “Should we look through our options on the app?”

“I’m still fine from lunch,” she says. “Do you mind if we wait a bit?”

“Nope.” I push away from the counter and saunter over to her. She turns in her seat, fully facing me, looking up at me with happy, blue eyes.

My cock’s been hard for her all damn day.

“How’s it going?” she asks with a grin.

“I’m having a good day,” I reply, cupping her face in my hands. I lean in to rest my lips against hers before brushing them back and forth lightly. “You?”

“Same,” she says. Her hands make their way under my shirt, her fingertips brushing against the skin just above the waistband of my jeans. “I’m just the right height right now.”

“For what?”

She pulls the button free on my jeans and pushes my T-shirt up my torso so she can lean in and press her lips to my stomach.

“Fun things,” she says. “But I need you to take this off for me.”

Only an idiot would ask why. I reach over my head and pull off the shirt, tossing it aside, and she gets back to work, kissing and touching me. She slips one finger under the waistband of my jeans and drags it back and forth, barely skimming the top of my cock with each pass.

“You’re long,” she comments, the words making me harder. “I like it.”

“Glad to oblige,” I reply with a laugh and then suck my breath in when she unzips my jeans and exposes me, then licks the head slowly. “Fucking hell, Amelia.”

“I don’t usually like it when people call me by my whole name,” she says, casually checking out my dick. “But it’s sexy when you say it.”

With that, she takes the whole tip into her mouth and makes a pulsing motion with her cheeks, making my damn eyes cross.

Is there a volcano erupting right now? Or is that just me?

“Jesus.” I push my fingers through her hair and grip her head. Not to try and guide her movements, but to have something to hold onto. “That feels amazing.”

She hums against me and sinks lower, pulling more of me inside her mouth. She’s shimmied my jeans over my hips, exposing more of me, and her small, magical hands are taking an exploratory journey over my skin that might make me come far faster than I’d like to.

“If you keep touching me like that . . . God, Lia.”

She smiles and keeps going, touching me, licking me. Finally, she sinks as far as she can and swallows around me, milking my cock.