Impulsion (Station 32 #1)(19)

Wyatt felt her tense under him. His kiss slowed, then ended as his eyes met hers, but his hand didn’t stop. His deft fingers moved with her body, explored, and found new ways to drive her wild.

Wyatt read every expression, every time her eyes would flutter closed for a brief second, when her breath would hitch, when she would move with his touch.

All at once, she drew in a deep breath, her entire body grew tense, then a wave of energy moved across his hand. His lips met hers, then he swallowed the moan that was leaving her, devoured the sensation of her body convulsing around his hand. When he dared to break this kiss, against the flesh of her lips he whispered, “Impulsion.”

That word that had been her curse in the ring had now taken on a new meaning. It wasn’t a demon of a skill she fought to obtain; it was a passion she wanted to feel over and over.

A few heartbeats later, she pushed him to his back, deepened her kiss as her hands moved down his chest, past the rim of his jeans.

Wyatt’s head was spinning. He was going to have to stop this soon. He’d yet to get any protection, and he doubted that Harley wanted him to take her on the bank of a creek with nothing but the night sky to hide them.

He groaned as her touch stole his breath, as he felt her body move against his. Just as he was about to roll her back over to her back, do his best to slow them down, they heard distant dogs barking. That sound made both their hearts race, but not for any positive reason; it meant the dogs sensed something around the farm, it meant someone would come to investigate.

Wyatt was on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling Harley up with him. She fumbled with her clothes as he wound their blanket up as fast as he could, stuffing it in a trash bag, then into the base of a tree trunk.

“You’re safe,” he said, taking her hand. A million ways to get back to the house without being seen were racing through his mind, along with a million excuses he could come up with for being out with Harley.

When they got closer to the main barn, he stopped and listened. The dogs were not barking, and no new lights were on, but that didn’t mean anything. Wyatt’s father never used a flashlight when he went out, said that gave him away.

A minute later, they saw truck lights coming down the main drive. The dogs started barking again. The truck belonged to one of Camille’s main barn hand’s girlfriends. Johnnie lived in the back house. They were sure she had just dropped him off.

They waited in the darkness, watching the house, the barn, the fields, everything, before Wyatt took her hand and moved her through the shadows. Just before she climbed to her room, his lips met hers; he gave her a deep kiss, then pulled away and lifted her. He didn’t move until he knew she was safe, then he took off like the speed of light running to his apartment in the main barn.

Harley watched with a thundering heart from her window, waiting for his signal. The second she saw a flash of light move across his window, she knew he’d made it safely, that Truman had never awoken.

It took her forever to fall asleep that night, to still her heart. When she did drift, in her dreams she spent the night on the bank of that creek, losing herself with Wyatt. Her body hurt, her heart hurt. She wanted him more than she wanted anything in the world.





Chapter Five



The next morning, Wyatt watched Harley’s ride from a distance, perched in the hayloft. He smiled every time he heard his mother praise Harley, every time he heard her say, “That’s it, soft hands, strong legs—good, there you go.” Once Harley was past that barricade, there wasn’t much to hold her back; she dominated that course.

He only managed to brush his hands down her side as he helped her take the saddle off Danny Boy. “Those legs looked powerful out there.”

Harley blushed, even laughed. “I have a good trainer. Taught me rhythm.”

Two days later, it rained all day. They knew it was coming, tried to plan something to keep everyone occupied, but by noon all the tack had been cleaned and the barn was settled. That was when Ava started to beg her mom to make Wyatt and Truman take all of them into town to shop, to go to the movies that night.

Wyatt and Harley’s stare met as Ava made her plea, as Wyatt somewhat protested that he was not a babysitter or chaperone. This little outing had happened a few times since Wyatt had gotten his license.

The thing was that none of them could agree on a movie to watch, which put them all in different theaters. It also gave Harley and Wyatt two hours to disappear, if not longer. There was a lookout point not far from the center where the theater and shops were. They had made their way there a time or two; in fact, some of their biggest firsts had happened there.

They didn’t have to worry about distant dogs barking, someone walking around the corner or yelling their names, or discovering they were not in their beds. It was two hours of uninterrupted time alone. Heaven.

From the way Ava was laying out her argument, it was sure to be even longer. She wanted to shop, wanted to eat in the food court and not go to a movie until nine.

“Harley, you want to come. I know you do. You can get more books, get whatever,” Ava pleaded. She was hoping that even if Wyatt told her no, she could get Harley to take her.

All Harley did was smile.

“Wyatt, son. She’s driving me mad. I’ll fill your truck up,” Camille said without looking up from the magazine she was reading.

Most times Camille filled his truck anyway, but in a way that was his payment for the rides he had done. A free tank of gas, at least two hours alone with Harley, and all he had to do was drive his sister all over town to pick up her friends—it was hard to look as if he were put out.