Summer of Two Wishes by Julia London Page A

touch, her mind wanting distance from the intimacy. It seemed strangely wrong, as if she were being unfaithful to Finn. Wyatt cradled her face; his finger stroked her brow, her temple, and fluttered to her neck. The reverence with which he touched her made her feel even weaker, and Macy gripped his wrist, holding herself upright as his hands and mouth moved over her skin.
    “Wyatt,” she said, but it was all she could manage. There was a familiar comfort in his touch, and it was something she desperately needed after the week she’d had.
    She didn’t know how they came to be inside the master bedroom, and she didn’t protest when he put her on the unmade bed and came over her to kiss her, his hand on her bare knee, then her bare thigh, then sliding up beneath the T-shirt and brushing against her panties.
    Warmth spread through Macy’s body, making her feel sluggish. Her hands floated up around Wyatt’s neck and her lips moved on his, her tongue against his, but she felt as if she were an observer. When his finger slipped inside her panties and dipped into her cleft, Macy was surprised by how damp she was. Her body was responding to her husband’s touch, but her mind was somewhere else. She slid her hands over his muscular arms, digging her fingers into them as she pressed against him and his erection.
    “I don’t want you to go, sweetheart. I don’t want to be without you. I love you too much to lose you.” He was sliding his body down hers in one excruciatingly slow movement.
    The fog that clouded Macy’s brain seemed to thicken. One of Wyatt’s hands tangled in her hair while he stroked the wet heat between her legs with the other. Purely sexual instincts took hold—she didn’t need to think, she only had to react.
    Wyatt paused to remove his pants, then rolled onto his back, pulling Macy on top to straddle him. Macy pulled the T-shirt over her head and watched Wyatt’s eyes rake over her body. He sighed with longing as he sat up and took her hand in his and kissed her throat. “I love you.”
    Macy could hear him through her fog, could see the sincerity in his gaze. She pressed her hand to his cheek and smiled, and felt the single tear that drifted down her cheek.
    “No, no, no,” he murmured, and kissed her cheek. “Don’t cry.” He enveloped her in a tight embrace and pressed his mouth against her shoulder, and then lower, to her breasts.
    Macy dropped her head back and allowed herself to be swept away. Wyatt rolled her onto her back and explored her body with his hands, his fingers trailing over hot skin, his eyes devouring her. He cupped her breasts, squeezed her nipples, then took her breast in his mouth as his hand drifted down the plane of her belly, slipping between her legs and into her body, sliding in and out.
    “God, but you drive me crazy—you always have,” he said breathlessly, and settled in between her legs.
    “Mmm,” she said, and brushed her fingers through his hair.
    With his gaze on hers, Wyatt slowly pushed inside her, catching his breath as he did.
    Macy closed her eyes and allowed him to push her farther out into that ocean of sensation. She heard her sigh of pleasure as he moved inside her. She laced her fingers with his, caressed his back and his buttocks, moved with him. He was so hard, so hot, so thick inside her; she drifted along.
    It had never been like this.
    Wyatt knew her well—he sensed her climax and thrust powerfully and quickly into her as she fell away from him and the world.
    It had never been like this, because Finn had never been in bed with them before today. But he was here now, on the edges of her consciousness, trying to make his way in.
    Wyatt shuddered into her and collapsed to her side, his heart beating hard and his breathing labored. “God,” he said with breathless appreciation. “That was…unreal.”
    Macy blinked up at the ceiling. He was still inside her.
    He lifted up on his elbow and kissed her. “I have to say, you really had me