Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) (16 page)

Appearances suggested he was a man who had it all. He was famous, was surrounded by people who lived to accommodate his every whim and unless she was easily duped, and Charlie really didn’t think she was, his pockets were pretty deep. Putting your ass on the line paid pretty well.

And then of course, he was ridiculously good looking. Was he classic leading man material? Probably not. He was too big and powerful to be contained on film. There was just too much of him. But he was a stunner.

Ryan Reynolds’ smirk

R Patz’s eyes

Henry Cavill’s nose

Channing Tatum’s ridiculous body

Russell Brand’s intelligence

Zac Effron’s ass.

Chris Pratt’s humor

And his lips? No comparison could do justice to the man’s sexy mouth. It was hard and soft at the same time and when he used it on her, Charlie had a tough time remembering her name.

In the simplest of terms, he was a stud; a hottie; a fuck stick as Rhi would put it. He had money, flashy cars, a friggin’ villa. The world was his for the taking so what the hell was going on inside him?

Testing and probing as often as she could, only once did she sense so much as a scintilla of turmoil. That made him either an expert at being buttoned up tight or suggested he was running away from something buried deep inside.

They were two weeks into a three-week assignment. An assignment that Mr. Sexy Pants manipulated and negotiated with her constantly. Instead of a weekday arrangement, he pushed until they met all seven days. If he had team commitments, she used those scheduling blank spaces to run around like a crazy person taking care of her own shit. But mostly he expected her to be one hundred percent focused on him the rest of the time.

Peering into the old mirror in her postage stamp sized bathroom, Charlie sighed heavily, frowned and then dropped her face into her hands.

What the hell was she doing?

Somehow Ty managed to railroad her into being his date at a cocktail party fundraiser Team Crepuscolo was heading up. All his teammates would be there, and since most of ‘em had a willowy model stuck to them like a clinging vine, she was feeling like Suzie Sunshine in a J.C. Penney’s dress.

This whole thing would make a great episode of
Mean Groupies
. The women she saw hanging around the team travelled in a pack, traded lovers and relationships like library books, engaged in non-stop one-upmanship and were the definition of selfish. They were going to close ranks around her and make the evening hell. She was an outsider on the arm of a sex god.

Shit. This could so easily get ugly. Why the hell had she agreed to go with him? Was she insane?

Charlie knew the answer. He’d asked her to go with him right smack dab in the middle of a kiss. She would have agreed to accompany him on a climb up Mt. Everest with nothing but a windbreaker and a pair of gloves if it meant he wouldn’t stop. Kissing Cal Tyler was the highpoint of her day. What was the expression her dad used? Oh yeah—he took kissing
to an eleven
. Or maybe a twelve.

Giving up on staring at her image in the mirror, she went into the little bedroom and looked at the dress spread out on the bed. A pale blue, open sleeve, low v-neck, loose-fitting chiffon party dress. She loved it. Loved the shoes too. Rhiann would be so proud of her for putting the whole look together. Even the clutch bag she’d carry and her jewelry were on target.

But that didn’t mean Charlie wasn’t acutely aware that she was way out of her league.

“I really want you to come.” She could still hear Ty growling the provocative words in her ear. That was another thing about him. The way he played so effortlessly with words. As if the tight, hard body and good looks weren’t enough, she found his conversational abilities sexy as fuck.

And he worked her over with clever repartee and made her blush with wicked innuendo on the regular. It was just what he did. Part of who he was. Nothing special, right?

Then why did he kiss her stupid every damn night? It was more than simply because she let him. Not having any real world relationship experience put her at a disadvantage with a guy like Ty, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t particularly aware of the restraint he exercised.

When she’d laid down the law, messed with him about submitting to her, Charlie was adamant about one thing. Theirs was a professional arrangement. A temporary one and she wouldn’t be allowing any monkey business.

His easy agreement unsettled her at the time. Boy, was she a dumb ass. All her control over their situation vanished the minute each session was over. Then and only then, when it was just them, he kissed her. Only kissed her.

At first she’d been cautious and held back, until Ty made it clear that she had nothing to get anxious about. He swore to her on a stack of Bibles and the head of his firstborn that kissing was all they’d do. Pinky swear and everything.

After that, she threw herself into giving as much as she received until these kissing onslaughts became red hot and right on the edge of control.

God, she was dumb. But she couldn’t help it. He drew her in and she was just naïve enough to hope he was equally as drawn to her.

And that folks
, she thought with a wry smirk,
is how we got here.
He asked. She couldn’t say no. The pleasure he showed when she agreed was big enough to be seen from the moon.
What’s a girl to do in those circumstances?

Dressing quickly, Charlie was putting the finishing touches to her outfit when she heard Ty’s beast of a sports car outside her open window. Since tonight was all about Crepuscolo, they’d be taking the Ferrari.

“Remember who you are,” she muttered to her reflection. With her nerves uncharacteristically shredded she decided that if nothing else, maybe seeing him in his work environment would help her understand what was really going on with him. She didn’t have much time left. When their arrangement wrapped up she was off to London. And after that? Who knew.

At the moment though she had a client to help and if that client also kissed her senseless, well—boo hoo.

She heard his approach in the hallway. Ty had an exuberance in his step which never took into account where he was. Carpet, wood floor, tile—hell, probably even a skating rink. The man walked with purpose and confidence. Dammit, and just like that, she felt heat ignite inside her and, as usual, send a rush of arousal straight for her undies.

Charlie smiled when he pounded on her door. “Such a boy.” She snickered when he called out, “Your chariot awaits, Contessa.”

With one final fluff to the hair she left to tumble over her shoulders and a quick sticking out of her tongue to her reflection, it was time to get this show on the road. Grabbing her clutch, she peeked inside to make sure she had the essentials and walked to the door.

“Please don’t let this be a mistake,” she whispered aloud as her hand turned the knob. When the door opened, and she saw him in a dark blue suit with a vest and tie and even a pocket square, another shot of fiery lust exploded inside.

Damn. She was so fucked.

Holy fucking shit.

No. Being completely serious here. Holy. Motherfucking. Shitballz.

Cal had hung out with his fair share of socialites, actresses and models but none of them came close to the astonishing sight when ‘tessa flung open the door to her flat.

She looked—well, she looked like an angel. It was the long blonde hair, had to be. Or maybe the pale blue dress that seemed to hang off her breasts from a plunging v-neck. Whatever it was, she was ravishing. Beautiful, sexy and sweet, his American friend was giving him an erotic heart attack and all she‘d done was open the door.

“Hello, Signor Tyler,” she said with a chuckle. “So, I should assume from the dumbstruck expression on your face that you like my little party dress.”

She preened and shimmied like a pro, even gave him a little impromptu bump and grind as he stood there gaping at her.

“‘tessa,” he groaned appreciatively. “You steal my breath away, babe.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m glad.” Looking him over with a critical eye, she quipped, “And I must say, Ty … you clean up pretty well yourself.”

Beaming at the compliment, a reaction that surprised him, ‘cause generally he didn’t give a shit what people thought, he abandoned being polite and slipped his hand beneath her hair, wrapping it around her neck.

“Sorry, not sorry,” he ground out as his head lowered. “Can’t wait for later.”

He’d startled her and didn’t want to freak her out too much, so Cal kissed her softly at first. Nibbling and playing at the corners of her sweet mouth until she melted into his touch. Then he pulled her closer, their mouths alternating between hungry and open, their tongues dancing together followed by fierce suckling and nibbling.

“Ty,” she sighed.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

Her small hand moved to his face, and he felt her swiping a thumb on his lips. “Pink Blush isn’t your color.” When she finished wiping her lipstick off his mouth, he reached for her hand and sucked her thumb into his mouth. When she inhaled a shaky breath and then held it, he almost pinned her to the wall with his body but grinding his ferocious erection against her belly wasn’t a great idea. Not right this second, anyway.

“Shouldn’t we be going?”

Oh. Yeah. Probably.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t want to. When he stood like this, crowding her personal space, Ty got off on the way they fit so perfectly. He was big and cast a deep shadow while she was smaller. Almost delicate but with a grit rarely seen in a girl her age.

She went to take his arm, and before he could reel in the attraction he was drowning in, he said out loud what his brain was thinking.

“Oh God no, ‘tessa. You’re on your own.”

“What?” she barked. “What the hell does that mean?”

He bawled with delight at her fiery reaction. “It just means that you can walk that sexy ass of yours to the car all by yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He flashed a full grin, teeth and all.

“And what will you be doing while I walk by myself?” The accusatory tone that shrieked, “You mannerless oaf,” fired him up even more.

“Why, I’ll be bringing up the rear and watching your way-too-fuckable ass in this far too short dress that shows off a pair of stems which I’ll dream about having wrapped around my back.”

There. He told her.

Instead of the outrage he expected, she bit her lip to stop a laugh and gave him one of those “sheesh” eye rolls women were so good at.

Without so much as another word, she shoved past him, said, “Pull the door shut till you hear the lock,” then sashayed down the dimly lit hallway like the queen of the runway.

He barely had time to ensure the door was locked before he hurried after her, enjoying the not very subtle roll of her hips. That’s when he got a good look at her shoes. He admitted to being a dog where footwear was concerned. A woman confidently rocking a pair of killer heels was like crack to him. He couldn’t get enough. And that fantasy about taking her bent over his Chevelle in the sexy hi-top boots? Yeah. Quickly being replaced by her long legs sporting a pair of high heel sandals with an ankle strap. Visualizing her gripping the dark blue metal of his favorite car as he pounded her from behind sent all the fluids in his body to his groin. In two seconds, his balls were aching and on fire and he was regretting the slim fit of his suit. Not enough comfort room for his cock.

She skipped down two flights of stairs with ease. Ty had to marvel. How the fuck did women navigate in those sexy shoes? These were things that puzzled him. Female mysteries. Like, how do they give birth like a champ but shriek and cry helplessly over a spider on the ceiling? Didn’t make sense.

At the glass entry doors, she pulled up and waited for him. He smiled. So, she was willing to perform but not willing to open the door herself. His sex surged with pleasure. Isn’t this what Jax meant by a temptress in the bedroom and a lady in public? He was politely paraphrasing of course. Substitute whore for temptress and the lewd quote was way more accurate.

And since his mind went there, note to self. Return his brother’s recent call and do it soon. Jax left a message—the six hour time difference had a way of killing phone calls—and unless Cal was mistaken, his older brother was involved with a woman. About the last thing he ever expected of Jax, he was intrigued and wanted to know more.

“Enjoy the view?” she teased when he leaned close and reached for the door.

Palming her ass as she swept past, he huskily drawled, “Thong, bikini or commando?”

Full of feigned outrage, she gasped and put a hand to her throat. “I beg your pardon? A gentleman never inquires about a lady’s um, unmentionables.”

“Fuck that gentleman shit and your unmentionables are the current topic of conversation—so spill. Butt floss?”

She pouted and frowned.

“No? Hmm. Sensible bikinis or granny pants?”

The frown turned to a very obvious “Bite me.”

“If it’s commando, babe”—he put his hand in the small of her back and steered her toward his car—“we’ll be doing the naked do-si-do before the night is out, and that’s a promise.”