Wild (4 page)

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured in my hair, as he took my nipples between his fingers through the fabric, twisting and caressing, causing them to ache and tingle with lust. “Are you wet for me, Sugar?” he asked so softly it could have been my imagination. His words were the voice of a sexy angel over my shoulder, the demon of my dreams, meant to take me and consume me.

One hand caressed the flesh of my breast as the other smoothed down my stomach, dipped below the waist of my jeans, and fingered the fabric of my panties. My heart thudded and a soft moan escaped my throat.

“I love those little noises you make. Tells me your body likes what I’m doing to you.” He dipped his fingers beneath my panties and thrust his finger straight between my swollen lips. “Fuck, you’re so wet, Sugar. You been thinking about me all day?”

I nodded, but my brain couldn’t form the words as his fingers pressed onto my aching clit, pulling the nerves and drawing them out further. Swirling before he slid down to my entrance, fire racing across my body, pooling between my legs. He ran up my length once again before thrusting two fingers inside me. I arched and bucked into his hands.

“That’s right, sweetheart, ride my hand.” His deep voice resonated in my ear. “Take it, baby.” His lips attacked the flesh of my neck as he nipped and licked a trail across my skin. My release burned in my body, his fingers working my flesh expertly. I groaned and wrapped my arms around his neck, thrusting my chest out into the palm of his hand. “Fuck, you’re beautiful when your body arches like that. Come for me, baby.” Tension rippled through my body. “ Come all over my hand.” His words had my body exploding under his touch. Fireworks shot behind my eyes as the nerves from my toes to my hairline tingled and fired off. I sucked in deep breaths as I fell limp against his body.

“I want to take you right here, Sugar, but we should get started on dinner.” His thumb came out to trace along my lips, leaving a trail of my arousal in its wake. He leaned his head in and swiped his tongue along the seam, cleaning the musky moisture he’d just deposited there.

He pulled away and sucked one glistening finger into his mouth, his full lips curving around the pad of his thumb as he licked the rest of my juices from his fingertips. I was mesmerized. He was the sexiest, most virile man I’d ever met. How could he ooze such sex appeal and make my panties damp with just one look into his hooded eyes?

“Stunned, Sugar?” One eyebrow arched adorably.

“Oh my God. You’re the most arrogant thing—”

“I know, Sugar. On to dinner.” He smacked my thigh before turning toward the bags on the counter.

“Maybe I don’t want to have dinner with you now.” I shot him a glare. He suddenly had me raging mad. How could he do that and be so goddamn arrogant? So full of himself?

‘Cause he’s that fucking good, and he knows it.

“I get you off with my hand in your kitchen and then you decide you don’t want to have dinner with me? Nice try, sweetheart.” He turned and started rummaging in drawers until he pulled a can opener out and worked on a can of tomatoes.

“You’re going to help?”

“Sure.” He shrugged as he moved onto the next can. “You gonna stand there and watch while I make food for us or you gonna help?” He lifted an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful grin. Lips so full and lush they felt like heaven on my body. Complete. Fucking. Heaven. And now I had to have an intelligent conversation with the man that’d just had his fingers thrusting in and out of me.

How had my life become this?

A very small voice in my head whispered
because I’d been a very lucky girl.
I grinned to myself as I turned and set to work, pulling out pots.

“There’s that smile.” He smacked me full force on the ass and had me squealing and rubbing the stinging flesh.

“You’re an ass.”

His hearty laugh filled the kitchen.

“So what do you do, Lane Wild?” We were poking our way along the rocky shoreline just outside my front door after dinner. The temperature had climbed to the low sixties today, surprising after the freezing temperatures last night. That was the thing I was learning about living on the coast: the days were warm and the nights were freezing. The climate operated a bit on the bipolar side, but regardless, I wanted to enjoy the last of the decent weather before winter took hold.

“First, I don’t go by Lane. Wild, only.”

“Seriously?” I crooked my head at him.

“Wild, Sugar.” His lips lifted in a smart-ass smirk.

“Okay,
Wild,
” I emphasized his name on my lips.

“I refinish boats: schooners, sailboats, fishing vessels.”

“Really?” I lifted an eyebrow.

“Sure, that’s so hard to believe?”

“No. Maybe.” I smiled as I plopped down onto a cold slab of rock. He sat down next to me, long, muscled legs extended in front of him, arms straining at the soft fabric of his shirt stretched behind him. His head tipped, mussed hair falling across his forehead, dark eyes gazing at me in the sexiest way.

“What’d you expect?” The low rumble of his voice caused a delicious shiver to run through my body. I squirmed and shuffled under his gaze. The feelings he lit up in my body at any given moment were so intense it was irritating. I’d never been around someone like this—someone that was hard to be around and actually focus.

“Construction or something . . .”

“It is in a way. Working with your hands, sanding the wood, following the grain, bringing out the beauty, painting—it’s somewhere between art and construction.”

“They way you talk about it is beautiful.”

He only nodded as I assessed him. His eyes turned to the waves crashing on the rocks just in front of our feet. The emotion that swirled behind his cornflower-blue eyes reflected the angry waves—dangerous, mesmerizing, completely captivating—just like the man. I was becoming obsessed.

I reflected back on his big body in my little kitchen, stirring spaghetti sauce and draining pasta. I’d taken him in at every chance. His hips cocked to the side, facing against the counter, a kitchen towel tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Hottest thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

Hot and dangerous.

And intriguing. So intriguing I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Maybe because I’d never encountered a guy like him before, someone who spent time in the kitchen, someone equal parts vulgar and gentle. He was an enigma.

He was so bad for me; it was palpable. I knew it with every fiber of my being, but despite it all, he’d sucked me in. When he passed me that look, his breath on my neck, his hands on my skin, I was useless at resisting him. I was obsessed. He’d become my addiction.

“What are ya thinkin’, Sugar?”

“I’m wondering why you insist on calling me ‘Sugar.’” I was also wondering why he had this effect on me. Why I couldn’t get him out of my head. And how it was so bad for him and me, that I couldn’t.

“Because you taste sweet as sugar.” His eyes flicked down my body, pausing at the juncture between my thighs.

“Eyes up, playboy.”

A laugh escaped his throat as his sparkling blue eyes lifted to meet my own. “You’re somethin’.” His lips turned up on an amused grin.

“Thanks.” I shrugged. “How old are you?”

“Cut straight to the chase, huh?” He smirked and I nodded. “Let’s start with you. How old are you, sweetheart?”

“Thirty.”

“What brought a single girl like you to the rocky coast of Maine?”

“Who said I was single?” My eyes flashed in amusement. I wanted to keep him on his toes just as much as he did me.

His eyes widened in surprise for a moment. “Okay, a possibly not-single girl . . .”

“I came for something different. How old are you,
Wild
?”

“Older than you.”

“So that would make you my senior, then?”

His loud guffaw echoed off the evergreens around us. “Not sure I qualify for that yet.”

I tipped my head at him, taking in his chiseled jaw and the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. His hair was a dark shade of brown and just long enough to run fingers through, no grey hairs to be found. “Okay, so maybe not a senior. How old? Give up the goods.”

“Is it important?” His eyes took me in, traveled across my face, down my neck, and I felt a blush creep cross my skin.

“No.” I licked my lips as I held his gaze.

“Thirty-two.” His voice lowered an octave as his gaze locked on my lips. His blues eyes darkened with lust and, just like that, he had me thinking about all the things he could do to my body: the heights of pleasure he could take me to.

“You’ve always lived here?”

“Yeah.” His eyes turned away and took in the old lighthouse that sat a few hundred yards down the coast.

“That’s all?
Yeah?
”

His jaw hardened for a moment, working back and forth. “Yep.” His lips popped on the word.

“Okay . . . so married? Single? Divorced?”

“We really doin’ this, Sugar?” he murmured. The stormy look in his eyes stopped me in my tracks.

“I guess not,” I mumbled as I turned away, taking in the rocky coastline to the north.

“Just thought we were over the small talk. We’ve fucked, Sugar; the time for small talk is over.” He trailed one lone fingertip up my arm, past my inner elbow, causing shivers to erupt across my body. My nipples hardened instantly at his soft touch.

“Stop touching me like that,” I spat. A small chuckle escaped his throat. I whipped my head around to take him in, his beautiful lips smiling back at me like he was amused by my anger.

“You’re so . . . irritating.”

“Really? That’s the best insult you got?”

I narrowed my eyes in my best death glare.

“You angry makes me hot as fuck, Sugar. Put the claws away unless you want me to take you right here on this slab of granite.”

“Oh my God,” I huffed. “You were so well-behaved during dinner. I actually thought we could be friends.”

“No such thing, babe.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean when a man wants a woman like I want you, there’s no ‘friends’ about it. Tell yourself whatever you want, but men and women can’t be friends after they’ve fucked. Or if they want to fuck.” His eyes danced with amusement as he licked his lips. I was beginning to think it was the hottest habit I’d ever seen.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so, but it’s true.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“What? Being friends with a woman I’ve tasted? Been inside of? Who’s come all over my face?” His eyes flicked down my body again.

My eyes hardened at his words. Fuck if they weren’t the hottest fucking words I’d ever heard, but I wouldn’t let him see that. He knew exactly the effect he had on women, and I wouldn’t fall into his trap. I wouldn’t be just another one of the girls falling at his feet.

“Yeah, that.” I crossed my arms over my chest to protect myself from the stare that seemed to undress me.

“Nope.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“Well, maybe if you tried . . .”

“You wanna be friends with me?”

“Not especially at the moment. But if we’re going to keep running into each other . . .”

“Fucking each other.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Inevitable, babe. I see the effect I have on you. Your thighs shift back and forth, your nipples harden under my stare, your cheeks heat up, all that blood courses through your body, and your chest heaves.”

“You’re such a pig.”

“Not a pig, just call it like I see it. And don’t think it’s just you. I’m so fucking hard right now, I think I could split the zipper on my jeans.”

My eyes flickered down to take in his package, and widened for a moment because it was so obvious, I don’t know how I’d missed it before. The denim straining over his large cock, the memory of him sliding into me, our sweat-slicked skin pressed together, my fingers wrapped in his hair and tugging. The way he’d felt when he’d entered me, so slowly at first, as if he was letting my body adjust to the size of him, before he’d unleashed and fucked me full force.

“Don’t look at me like that, Sugar. You really don’t want to look at me like that right now.”

“How come you . . . we didn’t . . .?” I couldn’t form the words. Being vulgar didn’t come as naturally to me as it seemed to for him.

“How come I didn’t take you earlier?” His lips curved up in a grin. The asshole was enjoying this, enjoying making me uncomfortable. This man had such a profound effect on me on some base level, I wasn’t even myself around him. I was reduced to some primal, sexual need that only wanted to fuck and be fucked. “Earlier was about you. But next time . . .”

“There won’t be a next time. We can’t keep on like this.”

“Like what? Taking pleasure from each other?”

“Yeah, that.” I rolled my eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s . . . I’m pretty sure it makes me a whore.” Ugh, what had I become? What had he made me into? Whenever he was around I suddenly turned into a wanton slut.

“A woman taking control of her sexual side is a beautiful thing, especially when she has wild red hair and tits like you do.”

“This ends now. Thanks for fixing my furnace, but you’re just too . . . much for me,” I finished as I stood and swiped the dirt off my backside.

“I’ll see you soon, Sugar. And in the meantime, you’ll be thinking about my head between your legs.” He stood and swatted me on the ass. I growled at him, actually growled.

“You’re infuriating.”

“Night, Sugar.” He nodded at me as I walked to my front door. I crossed my arms and watched his long legs fold up into the front seat of his truck. He started the engine and then his window slid down. “Until next time.” His beautiful lips lifted in the smallest smart-ass grin and I turned and walked into the house, his chuckle following on the wind behind me.