Wyatt Wright closed the car door and turned around to buckle Rae Bennett's seat belt.
She looked at him with a sense of grievance, "Can't you sweet-talk me when I'm angry?"
Wyatt closed the convertible top.
"Just as I thought, once you've got it—"
He kissed the corner of her lips.
Her voice turned obedient and soft, "What are you doing?"
He rolled up the windows too, now outsiders couldn't see into the car, and he kissed her deeply without any reservations, "To sweet-talk you."
Humph.
Rae clung to Wyatt's neck, willingly kissing him back. Initially, he was just gently pecking at her forehead, eyes, and cheeks, patiently soothing her.
Her top was very short, unable to cover her waist, and the palm resting on her waist was burning hot. She tilted her head back, her body unconsciously arching upwards.
This made it easier for Wyatt, who then kissed her neck.
"I'm sorry, Rae."
