To Claim a Wilde (Wilde In Wyoming Book 6) (7 page)

He inclined his head. “Of course. After we have reached an agreement, we can put in writing what we both agree upon.” He actually liked her thinking.

It helped him. It was just a business deal. And when the business was concluded, their time would be over. And she would be exorcised from his thoughts.

“However, if all the conditions of the deal are not met, the deal is null and void.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What other conditions are there?”

“When I need you...you come. No questions asked, no hesitating. If you want to save your family.”

And like that, he made sure that she understood who was in control.

Chapter 7

“W
ell, do we have a deal?” he asked in a voice hoarse with suppressed emotion, an emotion that had no name, a mixture of anger, resentment, even as he tried to deny the underlying lust that still lingered.

He didn’t know whom his anger was more directed at, Naomi for being the object of his feelings and lust, or himself, for feeling anything for her?

She bit at her lip again, hesitating, weighing the odds in her mind, he knew. He waited.

All he knew was that no matter what, he still wanted her. After seven years, and a fleeting time together...with no real fulfillment, not enough for him, he still lusted for her.

Through the years, as he’d been with other women, he’d think of her. Not every time, and not with every woman.

But enough that he had never been able to forget her, an echo of her memory in the small corner of his brain.

He’d think of her at the most inopportune moments, usually when he’d least want to think of her. Thoughts, images of
her
beneath him, accepting him, all of him, bogarted their way into his brain, implanting the image of her face, one that he’d never forgotten, onto his current bed partner.

Only recently had her image began to fade the smallest bit.

And here she was, showing up in his life again.

But he had no illusions this time. For whatever reason, seven years ago he’d felt she was different, their connection different, special somehow. And when she’d left the next day, with nothing more than a note on the pillow saying thank you, he’d known what it felt to be used.

For whatever reason, she’d “chosen” him that night to bed. Not because she’d felt the same crazy connection that he had. Not because of anything other than plain old-fashioned lust. Nothing more or less. Something that shouldn’t have affected him the way it did, but damned if it didn’t.

Now he was determined to prove to himself that it wasn’t anything to him, and neither was she.

He’d come to realize what it was: nothing but pure lust. After a six-month hiatus from relationships and the breakup with his ex-fiancée, he needed good old sex. His libido had finally taken over, making his mind think there had been some cosmic otherworldly connection with her that hadn’t been.

He knew now would be the opportunity to exorcise the seven-year demon of lust he’d had pent up until he’d had his fill and could forget her.

It made no sense. None of it made any sense. The
only
sense he could make of it was that he felt robbed. That night hadn’t ended the way he’d wanted...or rather, the next day hadn’t.

He walked nearer to her and reached out a hand. She hesitated, but eventually placed hers within his.

She rose, and as she stood there, staring up at him, fear but determination in her pretty light brown eyes, he felt something stir in his heart, something that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Damn it.

It was her. She was doing something to him.

He drew her nearer until he had her close enough that he could count each of the handful of darker freckles on her chocolate-brown skin. The fact that he knew she had them, that he had first discovered she had them when he made love to her long ago and she blushed, making them stand out, starkly, filled him with longing.

Canton had tried to get over the feeling of incompleteness, but could no more do so than he could stop the sun from breaking free and replacing the moon at dawn.

“You don’t have to worry about your family. It’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay,” he said, gruffly, not even realizing he’d sought to assure her, to do anything to get that look of fear from her eyes, knowing she was deathly concerned about her family.

Tears filled her pretty brown eyes and he suppressed a groan.

And now, well damn, now she had him waxing poetic.

“Come on now, it’ll be okay. But it’s your decision.”

“I...” She stopped and drew in a ragged breath to compose herself. “I’m just so upset about my folks...this lien on the farm is frightening, Canton.”

Although his gut clenched, he forced himself to stay silent. To wait.

Then she bobbed her head up and down in agreement, a tentative smile on her face. He reached out a hand, brushed away at an errant spiral curl that escaped her topknot and placed it behind the curve of her small ear. Instead of moving his hand away, he kept it there, his gaze unwavering.

He expected her to recoil from him, as she’d done before when he had reached out to try to steady her. Instead, she held his gaze, and they both grew still, unnaturally so.

Canton couldn’t have looked away, no matter how damn badly he wanted to. On her face was the reflection of what was in his mind; mutual memories of a time seven years ago danced in the glow of her beautiful, unique light brown eyes.

The moment stretched taut.

As he waited to hear what she’d decided, it seemed hours but was in actuality little more than a few seconds.

“I, uh, I—” She stopped speaking and tore her gaze away from Canton’s. His jaw tightened and eyes narrowed, but he carefully maintained a neutral facade.

No way in hell would he let her know how much it meant to him, her answer. It was purely a business proposition. He’d help her family, give them the time they needed, keep Rolling Hills off their backs, and in exchange, she’d give him...herself.

Whenever. However.

And there was no need for her to ever know that it was his family who held the tax lien against hers. That was information she’d never find out if he had anything to do with it, not until his time with her was over.

She eased away from his light hold, and his hands fell away. He watched her from hooded eyes as she walked over to one of the built-in bookshelves, her hand trailing over the binding of several volumes.

Her shoulders held a slight hunch, as though she felt defeated. The idea disturbed him for unknown reasons.

But within moments she straightened her back. Her head tilted to the side, and Canton knew she was having one of those one-way conversations again.

He felt an answering tug of one side of his mouth, a smile trying to break free, before he glanced away from her, irritated once again with himself for being so damn fascinated with her. Still, so turned on by her.

“And if I say no?” she asked, her voice small, uncertain, echoing in the large room. She partially turned to him, her head slightly over her shoulder, glancing back at him, yet not making eye contact.

Again, Canton felt a stirring of sympathy for her. Although in profile, her beautiful face, like her body, grew still, like a small bird afraid to take flight; her liquid brown eyes made his heart seem to stutter. He tightened his jaw and she turned back away from him.

He observed her as her small fingers traced over the spine of one of the books on the shelf, her body stiff and her back ramrod straight.

He made his way over to her like a magnet, without conscious thought, and now stood so close behind her he could again smell the essence of her wash over him like floral-scented rain.

“I... I don’t know. I mean... I know what an escort is, I mean,
exactly
what all do you want from me?” she asked, her words barely above a hoarse whisper. “I mean, you could have anyone go with you to those functions as an...uh.” She stopped, completely and obviously flustered and again flushed, something utterly beautiful to see against the deep color of her skin.

Canton moved his body boldly closer to hers, placed his hands on top of her shoulders and brought her body back against his so that her back was flush with his chest, her perfect ass nudging his thighs. He leaned in, closer, and rubbed the side of her face with his own.

The stiffness of his erection was a vibrant thing and there was no way in hell she couldn’t feel it against her back. He was hard as granite.

But Canton had no desire to hide the proof of the fact that he wanted her, needed her.

He grasped her by the hips and pulled her flush against him, pressing her ass into his erection, grinding against her.

“Canton,” she whispered his name, making him that much harder.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, a little moan escaping from her lush lips, and Canton felt moisture escape his cock.

Fully clothed, she had brought out something in him, feelings he hadn’t felt before with anyone.

Just like her, the feelings she wrought from him were unique...and left him feeling off balance. Another first.

He turned her face so that he could get hold of those beautiful lips of hers. It was a strange angle to hold her, but one that turned him on.

The act of holding her in this way, captive, with no way to maneuver away from his arms as he began to play with her, turned him on in ways he had never felt.

“I want you. All of you,” he admitted around her lips, so far gone with lust he didn’t guard his words.

Canton boldly lifted her silk blouse away from her skirt, deftly unbuttoning it before attacking the back closure at the waist of the skirt and easing the zipper far enough down so that the waistline was loosened.

In one smooth move he reached a hand inside the waist of her skirt, while the other unhooked the front closure of her bra and cupped one firm breast, messaging the heavy globe, fingers feathering over the tightening nipple.

His hand traveled down her waist and eased past her flat stomach until he reached her panties. Deft fingers slipped inside, moving the elastic band away before he found what he was looking for.

Her cry rang out loudly in the room.

“I think you want me just as badly, Naomi,” he murmured against the corner of her full mouth, stroking her lips with his tongue, licking away at the moan that had escaped as his fingers caressed the lips between her legs.

His fingers were saturated with her dewy wetness. He’d found proof of his declaration.

Canton eased his fingers out of her reluctantly before he turned her around in his arms to face him.

His gaze locked with hers, daring her to look away, much less try to leave his embrace. She was so beautiful. The lust and passion had softened her features, her full lips made even fuller by his kisses.

He caught her half-repressed flinch as he placed his hand beneath her chin, drawing her face upward.

Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he brought his finger to his mouth and licked her cream from the digit, before he placed it on her lower lip.

He silently dared her to lick it as well. But he doubted she would.

She held his gaze, and slowly, so damn slowly, it was nearly a painful thing to watch, she brought out her tongue and swiped at his finger, the move bold and not expected.

Canton’s hot gaze traveled over the bottom curve of her lip, outlining its fullness, refamiliarizing himself.

When his lips lowered, he
felt
the beat of her heart, saw the way she gave in to him, even before their lips made contact.

Canton growled low in his throat and grabbed her by her round hips. He moved his hands to cup her soft leather-clad bottom, his hands digging gently into her small but plump globes.

He pried open her mouth and pressed his tongue inside her moist depths. Without pause, her tongue came out to greet his as she brought her hands to rest against his chest, before they eased around his neck, her soft hands tunneling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Dragging him closer.

Canton growled low in his throat. His little vixen was giving him back measure for measure. He thumbed aside her bra that hung halfway off her shoulders, fully exposing her to his roaming hands.

He held her gaze as he leaned down, before capturing one perfect dark wine-colored nipple inside his mouth and sucking.

Her back arched sharply as again, her cry rang out in the room, her hands tightening in his hair.

He released her nipple and watched it spring back to glorious life, plump and filled with blood, beckoning his return.

He laughed a rough, masculine laugh at her whimper of need.

He lifted her into his arms, turned and strolled to the nearest chair, one of the larger ones in the room, one that was built and meant for two to share, never leaving contact with her lips.

He sat down with her nestled in his arms and devoured her mouth with his, his hands swiftly going to work, slipping open buttons, moving the sleeves of her blouse down her arms, along with her bra, and in seconds not only had he stripped her of her blouse and bra, he was impatiently at work on her skirt.

Giving little effort to actually removing it from her, he shoved the leather up until it was bunched around her waist, leaving her barely there panties as the only deterrent to his lust-filled destination.

With shaky fingers, he ran his hands over her silk-covered mound, his cock so hard, it was a nearly painful thing. But he wanted...needed to taste her. Now.

He maneuvered to gently place her on the large chair before he eased his body to the rug, stationing himself between her legs.

He moved her thighs apart and stared at the object he so desperately needed to taste.

He raised his eyes to meet hers. If she wanted him to stop, this would be her last chance.

“I need you.” He could barely choke out those simple words.

Chapter 8

N
aomi’s body went up in flames.

He gave her no time to think, only to feel. And God, how good he made her feel.

In the recesses of her mind, she knew they had to stop at some point, knew that although she was on birth control, they had no condom available. At least she didn’t.

But they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. Now she simply wanted to feel.

And she planned on feeling as much of him as she could.

Her hands had been as busy as his; divesting him of as much clothing as she could, she’d tunneled under his shirt, undoing his buttons as he had done for her. Not with nearly as much finesse and ease as he had performing the task, but with as much enthusiasm.

As she stared down at him, as he knelt larger than life between her thighs, she knew what he was asking her, knew what he wanted to do to her.

His bared chest was thick and ripped with sinewy muscles. Not over the top, but perfectly sculpted pieces of perfection. She hadn’t gotten to touch him long enough, and now her fingers ached to run over his chest, to follow the light, furred path that ran down the center, past his rock-hard abdominal muscles and into the sharp V that ended at the top of his jeans.

Jeans she wanted off, to once again feel the perfection of his cock slide deep inside her body.

Even as the thought ran into her mind, she knew she was nearly crazed with want and need for him.

The need she’d had for this man knew no boundaries. Right or wrong, she wanted whatever he would give her.

She bobbed her head up and down, giving him permission to do whatever
he
wanted to do.

At her silent assent, the look he gave her should have scared the hell out of her.

It didn’t.

Instead it turned her on to the point she thought she’d embarrass herself and orgasm before he touched her again.

“Good,” he roughly bit out.

He leaned down and she held her breath.

He didn’t go to the heat of her right away.

Instead his tongue licked the crease where leg and vulva met, the sensitive spot that no man had ever figured out did it for her. But he had long ago. And remembered.

Despite her trepidation, Naomi’s body arched against him and a cry of longing strangled her throat; she could feel her pulse beat and stammer a staccato rhythm against his mouth where he’d sucked at the most intimate pulse point on the human body.

As her heart pounded out its crazy disjointed beat within her body, her throat seemed to close in on her. She shut her eyes and inhaled deeply.

Gradually, she calmed and her legs relaxed as he licked around her, sucking and playing with her.

A short sigh of need tumbled from her partially opened lips.

He continued to lick her, playfully, not quite touching her labia, his tongue skirting around the heat of her...lulling her into a sense of calm.

Her eyes had just fluttered closed the moment his lips made the connection to her flesh, his thick fingers parting her as his tongue stabbed deeply into her body.

Eyes now wide and open she moaned, jumping, arching her back away from the chair; she came to a semisitting position and stared down at the blond-haired man between her legs.

The sight of that alone increased the pulsing tension he was creating inside her.

He licked, sucked and tugged on her clit, his tongue sliding in and out of her heat until she felt dizzy with pleasure.

With a helpless little moan, she gave in, her hands grasping his head as he made love to her in the most intimate way.

“Canton... I can’t, I mean, you shouldn’t...” The protest was breathy and not all that convincing-sounding.

But something in her, something deeply feminine, suddenly grew afraid at how he had made her feel so quickly.

After long moments of lavish strokes from his tongue, he lifted his head and met her gaze.

“You want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low.

A knowing smile lifting the corners of his mouth, his deep voice husky, passion-filled and so erotic-sounding, it did almost as much to her as what his mouth had been doing moments before.

Almost.

With panted breath, she shook her head no. “Don’t—don’t stop. I mean... I don’t know.” Real fear was beginning to take the place of the languid sensuality.

She moaned a little in her throat when he gave her a heart-stopping smile with just one side of his lips lifting.

“Give in to me.”

The demand was delivered in a velvet voice wrapped in steel. She hesitated before giving him the smallest of nods.

Canton spread her legs again; this time he lifted them so that they lay over each of his big, muscled forearms, before his head went back into the V of her thighs.

His skillful tongue and magic fingers nipped, licked and toyed with her until she thought she’d lose her mind from the pleasure of his touch.

It had been so long since she’d felt anything like what he did for her. Had been so long since she’d felt
his
touch.

Her head fell back on the chair as she did as he instructed and gave in to the mastery of his touch.

With each stroke of his tongue, the flames grew until they nearly engulfed her. When he inserted a finger inside her heat, Naomi gave in to the fiery storm he had created within her.

“Oh, God, oh, God, ohhhhhh!” The last of her cries rose into a high whimper of delight as he used both tongue and fingers to bring her to orgasm.

Naomi’s final cry was a wail of pure pleasure, tears of release trickling down her face.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, it was to find that Canton had moved to sit beside her, his blue eyes unfathomable as he stared down at her.

He’d put his shirt on but had left the buttons open, and again, just looking at him made her breath catch in her throat.

Yet he said nothing.

God, what had she done? she thought, the stark reality of what had just happened—what she had allowed to happen—sinking in.

Suddenly cold, uncomfortable and embarrassed, Naomi rose from her sitting position and immediately lifted her bottom enough to pull up her panties and yank down her leather skirt, which had been bunched around her waist.

God, she felt like a class A tart, she thought, avoiding Canton’s glance, wondering at his silence.

“Here,” he finally said, “let me help you.” With those words she turned and faced him.

Her eyes fell to his hands, where both her bra and silk blouse dangled from his big fingers. With a mumbled thank-you, she went to take both from him.

Canton pushed her hands aside and did what he wanted—helping her, by turning her back to him and assisting her with her bra.

With a gulp, she accepted his aid, glad for the time, if only brief, to gather her composure. She placed her arms through the shirt and with her back still to him, with shaky fingers buttoned her blouse.

She sat still in that position for a minute, not sure what to say, what to do.

“If I recall right, you said you’d be willing to do anything to help your family. Did you mean that, or were you playing a game with me?” Canton asked, his deep voice rough with some hidden emotion, one she could hear, but had no clue what it was, what he was feeling.

He turned her around to him, his face still inscrutable. “Like you’ve done before? Is it all a game for you, Naomi?” Canton ran a thick finger down the line of her jaw, touching the corner of her mouth. Naomi bit back a whimper of need.

Until the entirety of his question hit her...he’d all but said she’d screw him in order to save her family.

“You ass!” she bit out, jaw tightening as she fought away the tears, the amazing way he’d just made her feel, the selfless way he’d taken care of her needs, pushed to the side in her mind.

She shoved his finger away from her face and jumped up from the chair, his callous words too much to bear as raw as she felt at that moment.

Exposed. Vulnerable. Stupid.

All three words perfectly summed up her feelings.

God, what had possessed her to allow him to— She closed down the thought. She turned away from him, unable to look at his face, looking for her purse so she could get the hell out of there before she lost it completely.

“If that’s what you think of me, there’s nothing more for me to say. I love my family, but I won’t prostitute myself for anyone! I’ll—” she began, only to have him spin her around and cover her mouth with his hungry lips.

She refused to give in to him. Refused to soften her mouth against the assault of his hungry lips, no matter how badly she
wanted
to surrender.

His kiss softened, coaxing her to submit to his demand.

His tongue snaked out to lap across the seam of hers, before he gave nibbling kisses with gentle teeth to her lower lip, delivering soft flicks with his tongue and biting nips in an intoxicating kiss that had her melting in his arms.

As she had worn low heels, her breasts were on level with his stomach. When his big, muscular arms wrapped tighter around her, it forced her breasts to press tightly against his rock-hard abs.

On and on he licked and bit her, even as his hand stole inside her waist of her skirt, easing inside and rubbing her booty.

As he caressed her, she moaned, her mouth opened and she invited him in.

That was the only invitation he needed.

* * *

Eventually he broke the kiss, both of their breaths coming out in harsh, low sounds of near breathlessness.

Canton rested his forehead against hers, bringing her closer, if possible, to his large frame.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice so low that she barely heard his apology. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Simple. Succinct.

Yet his voice was humbly sincere.

Naomi nodded her head, accepting his simple apology. But he wasn’t done.

“You do something to me that no other woman ever has. Sometimes, it makes me act like an ass.”

His admission, along with the helpless way he ran his hands through his hair, suddenly looking like a little boy, dragged a surprised gulp of laughter from her and he laughed shortly along with her.

He pushed her away. “Besides, this is only the beginning of our...relationship,” he said. His head descended, his mouth covering hers again.

His lethal kiss washed away any doubts as to whether or not it was the best idea to enter into a...She didn’t know exactly what it was he was suggesting. Sexual relationship? Escort for two weeks? What in the world did he want? she wondered.

Better yet, what was it
she
wanted?

When he ended the kiss, she was unsteady but knew she had to set the record straight.

“But let’s get something straight. Whether or not we become...intimate,” she began, and ignored the derisive look he gave her, “has nothing to do with the agreement to help my family, correct?” she both asked and demanded. “Because if that’s what you have in mind, the answer is no. I will escort you to whatever functions you want, but that is where this ‘agreement’ ends.”

“And if I say no?” he replied, challenging her.

“Then I walk. Point-blank and a period.”

He gave her a considering look, his face hardening.

Naomi kept her face void of emotion and quelled the bundle of nerves she felt.

“It’s a deal. You come when I need you—according to the deal,” he qualified, his face tightening. “And in exchange for that, if you hold up your end of the bargain, my family will help yours out of their...predicament. Does my word work for you or do you need it in writing?” he asked, the tic in his jaw the only indication of his feelings.

She considered the hand he held out. Despite everything, the uncertainty, their tumultuous past and what could become an even more tumultuous present, she knew his word was good.

She allowed him to take her hand, sealing their deal.

He dragged her to him, murmuring, “After what we just did, I prefer a more...intimate way to seal this particular deal,” he replied roughly, and took her mouth with his. Before his head descended, Naomi wondered if she had in fact just made a deal with the devil.