Wilde Thing (8 page)

If Steve hadn’t had her pinned to the wall with his powerful body, she would have sunk to the ground in a boneless heap.

He nuzzled his way along her neck with soft, damp kisses until his mouth reached her ear. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, uncaring that she sounded greedy. It had been so long, and the orgasm had felt so good, but she knew once wasn’t going to be nearly enough. Not if he was offering more. “But not like this. Untie me.”

“Not yet.”

Their bodies separated only long enough for Steve to unzip the skirt still twisted around her hips and yank that article of clothing and her panties ruthlessly down her legs and off, leaving only her blouse and bra knotted around her waist, which provided no covering at all. His eyes flickered appreciatively down the length of her bared body, still damp in places from the water he’d spritzed onto her skin, making her unbearably aware of her wanton appearance.

“This is one of
my
fantasies,” he murmured, his burning gaze coming to a halt at the crux of her thighs. “Having you at my complete mercy.”

And she was. He could do absolutely anything he wanted to her … and she knew she’d let him.

Lifting a hand, he glided one long finger through the thatch of blond hair covering her mons and traced the line between her delicate nether lips—a soft butterfly stroke that made her tremble all over again. She moaned and jutted her hips eagerly toward him, and he rewarded her with another brush of his fingertip, just enough to tease but not appease the renewed hunger building within her.

Her sex felt swollen, slick with her own desire, and his illicit caress was driving her mad. She rolled her head back against the wall, willing to beg for what she yearned for. “Steve …
please.”

He rested his forearm next to her head, bringing her face to face with his bold, masculine features even as he lazily continued exploring the silken textures of her female flesh. She could see the restrained arousal blazing in his bright blue eyes, could feel his chest graze her aching breasts with each deep breath he drew.

He inclined his head impudently, giving her the impression that he could go on touching her just like this for hours. “Please, what?”

She licked her dry lips. “You promised me more.”

His smile was full of sinful intent. “Umm. So I did.”

He didn’t give her what she expected—another quick, blinding orgasm. No, instead he lowered his gaze to the bountiful display of flesh he’d yet to pleasure. Her breasts grew tight in anticipation, her nipples puckering so hard they were almost painful.

Dipping his head, he rubbed his cheek against that pillowy softness, his dark, midnight stubble rasping deliciously across the tender tips. When his lips brushed across one of those beaded knots of flesh, she nearly wept with relief. His tongue lapped and swirled until he finally drew a nipple into his hot, wet mouth and suckled her. At the same time he pushed a finger deep inside her, and she gasped at the unexpected invasion. Before she could recover from that sensual assault, his
teeth gently tugged at her nipple and he added a second finger, stretching her to accommodate him, making her whimper at the dual sensations he’d inflicted upon her.

Her mind slid into a long, slow spin, yet her entire body tensed when she felt him work the tip of a third finger into her. “Stop,” she panted. “No more.”

He immediately heeded her request but didn’t remove the first two fingers still embedded deep within her. “You’re so damn tight,” he groaned against her breast.

She managed a burst of hoarse laughter. “I think it’s a combination of it being a long time for me, and you having very big hands and long, thick fingers.”

“Yeah, I do.” He nipped at the underside of her jaw and laved his tongue down her throat. “And if you feel this snug with two fingers, then my cock is in for a real tight fit.”

The image brought another rush of moisture spiraling down to her core, along with a tingling warmth right where he’d delved the pad of his thumb against the hood of her sex. The steady pressure was agonizing, and she knew she’d have to ask for what she wanted, what she
needed.
“Steve … make me
come.”

He obliged her, stroking her with a knowing touch. That easily, he sent her over the edge again, her insides clenching in a deep, wrenching throb of pleasure. Before she fully recovered from that climax, before she had a chance to catch her breath and regain her equilibrium, Steve was on his knees in front of her, his dark hair an erotic contrast to her lightly tanned skin.

The tribal band encircling his upper arm flexed as he splayed his hands on her quivering thighs and pushed them farther apart, giving her no choice but to obey his command. His palms slid upward, and he used his thumbs to open her wide, to expose the tender nub of flesh hidden between her legs.

He groaned like a dying man and leaned in closer, inhaling deeply. His unshaven cheek chafed her thigh,
and his breath gusted over her sex just before he tasted her with a long, slow lick. The air in her lungs felt trapped, and when he used his lush tongue to push delicately inside her, all she could manage was a whimper of sound. He leisurely slipped in and out of her feminine folds, leaving wet, burning trails in the wake of his languorous and very intimate French kiss.

He found her pulsing clit, and his tongue circled it with wet flicks and slow, suctioning swirls, accelerating her heart rate off the charts. Then his lips closed over her, and he took her eagerly, hotly, greedily, sending her over the razor-sharp edge of another orgasm.

She braced herself for another wild ride, and this time she came with a white-hot burst of passion that made her hips buck and her back arch away from the wall. Unable to stand being constrained by her blouse any longer, she tugged, hard, and loosened the tie around her waist. Another fierce yank, and the material completely unraveled, making her realize that she could have freed herself at any time.

Threading her fingers through Steve’s hair, she grasped the strands in her fist and pulled his mouth away. “Oh, God, no more,” she uttered on a long, shuddering breath.
“Please.”

He laughed huskily and leaned forward to nip at her soft belly. “We’ll see,” he said, mocking her with the same words she’d spoken earlier.

She pulled his head back before he could distract her again, forcing him to look up at
her,
instead of her naked body, though his gaze did stray to her breasts. His eyes were dark and fevered with desire, his lips damp with her essence, and in his subservient kneeling position, he looked like a slave worshiping his mistress.

A tiny thrill shot through her. Standing above him, and currently the one in control, she realized she sort of liked being on the dominant end of things.

“Are you threatening me with another orgasm?” Her tone was playfully imperious.

“Baby,” he rasped, a shameless, bad-boy grin making an appearance, “I’d say it’s more of a promise. I’m not done with you yet.”

In one fluid, agile movement, he stood, his muscles shifting as he straightened. In another flash, he hefted her over his shoulder and had her dangling upside down with her bottom in the air and his strong arms wrapped around her thighs—proving to her who was really the master in this scenario.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded as he headed through the small living room and toward the darkened hallway.

“The first room on the left,” she said, and seconds later he unceremoniously flipped her onto her back in the middle of her double-size mattress.

The room was dark with shadows, and the sound of him releasing the leather strap from his belt buckle sent a frisson of excitement unfurling in her belly. Wanting to see that magnificent body of his completely naked, she reached over to the side of the bed and snapped on the small lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room in an incandescent glow.

She’d been running late this morning and hadn’t made her bed, and the rumpled sheets felt wonderfully cool and crisp against her backside as she reclined against the pillows. She watched Steve remove a few foil packets from his pocket and toss them on the bed before ripping open the front of his jeans. He skinned the denim and his briefs down his legs and kicked them off, then straightened, giving her the first full-frontal view of him.

Completely, unabashedly nude and all hot and aroused for her, he stole her breath in a way no man ever had.

Her fantasies of this particular bad boy didn’t compare to the real thing. She knew he had broad shoulders,
but they appeared so much wider in comparison to his lean waist and narrow hips. And then there was that tattoo on his biceps that she found so fascinating, a mark of a rebel who seemed to live by his own rules and did whatever he pleased. The man
was
tough and virile, from the dark stubble of his beard to the intense look in his eyes, to the hard, square set of his jaw. Everything about Steve Wilde was powerfully, incredibly male.

She took in the light dusting of hair on his chest, followed the narrowing path down to his rippled belly, and lower, to the most prominent, impressive part of him. She swallowed hard. His thoroughly erect cock was parallel to his stomach, pointing straight up to his navel, impossibly long and hard and thick.

“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered gruffly.

As she parted her thighs to make room for him, he grabbed one of the condoms, tore open the package with his teeth, and rolled the latex down his shaft. Sheer, primal lust shimmered off him in waves; she could detect his need in his quick, efficient movements and witnessed the hunger in his eyes as he swept a heated look up the length of her.

A muscle in his cheek clenched in barely controlled restraint, and his nostrils flared like an animal scenting his mate. “You do realize that this first time isn’t going to be slow and gentle, don’t you?”

There was a subtle warning in his tone, and while she appreciated the chance he was giving her to say no, he’d already given her
slow.
What she needed now was something just as untamed and uninhibited as he was suggesting. “I know.”

From the foot of the bed, he crawled up onto the mattress and knelt between her legs. Hooking his fingers beneath her knees, he dragged her toward him until her widened thighs were draped over his and her pelvis was tipped up in offering. He eased over her, using his thighs to push hers up higher on his waist,
which also effectively trapped her beneath the weight of his body. His forearms came to rest next to her face, and he shifted his hips, lodging the thick head of his penis against her very core.

Staring into her eyes, he pushed into her an inch, letting her feel the size of him, teasing her with the promise of more. “Once I’m inside you, it’s gonna be hot, hard, and fast.” His voice deepened into a rough growl.

She touched her fingers to the stubble along his jaw, the prickling sensation heightening her arousal. “I’m ready for that,” she said huskily. “I’m ready for
you.”

“Then take me.
All
of me.” He plunged into her, strong and deep, impaling her to the hilt with that first unbridled thrust.

Despite being primed for him, she sucked in a startled breath as her inner muscles clamped tight around his shaft. His eyes flared wide in response, giving her a brief glimpse of passion, heat, and something else warring in their hot blue depths. Before she could analyze that last emotion, before she could dwell on the initial discomfort of being thoroughly consumed by him, he began to move, his body undulating and grinding against hers as he increased his rhythmic pace.

A low, throaty, on-the-edge moan escaped him, and he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her with a desperate, fierce passion that caught her off guard. His tongue swept into her mouth, matching the rapid, pistoning stroke of his hips and the slick, penetrating slide of his flesh in hers.

Tremors radiated through her from the sensitive spot where they were joined so intimately. She felt thoroughly possessed by him, body and soul, in a way that defied their impersonal bargain and the simplicity of an affair. In a way that aroused feelings that had no business being a part of this temporary relationship.

Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on the pleasure he gave her, and how alive he
made her body feel. Running her hands down the slope of his spine, she curved her fingers over his taut buttocks and locked her legs around his waist to pull him closer, deeper, and abandoned herself to yet another stunning orgasm.

This time, he was right there with her when she reached the peak of her climax. Groaning, he broke their kiss and tossed his head back, his hips driving hard, his body tightening, straining against hers.

“Liz.”
Her name hissed out between his clenched teeth as his body convulsed with the force of his release.

When the shudders subsided, Steve lowered himself on top of her and buried his face against her throat. His ragged breathing was hot and moist against her skin, his heart racing just as unsteadily as her own.

A smile drifted across her lips as she trailed her fingers back up his spine, all the way to the damp, silky tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck, savoring the delightful feel of him inside her, draped over her. She’d never felt so utterly satisfied, so sexually, physically content.

Undoubtedly, Steve Wilde was a fantasy worth waiting for, in every way. One she planned to take advantage of until their time together was over.

S
teve slipped back into Liz’s bed after a quick trip to the bathroom, ignoring the little voice in his head that told him he ought to get dressed and go. It was late, and he didn’t make it a habit of spending the night with the women he dated. Too many expectations were assumed from that particular intimacy, and actually
sleeping
with a woman meant taking the relationship to a whole new level. One that included lazy morning sex, shared showers, and breakfast together. It was a set of emotional complications he’d avoided since his divorce, and he’d never had any desire to break those personal rules of his.

Tonight he was sorely tempted. Liz was the first woman he’d been with in all those years who made him wonder what it would be like to wake up spooning himself against her soft, giving body, to start the morning with slow, leisurely lovemaking. To eat breakfast in bed with her and join her in a fun, playful shower before heading off to work—with his mind and body rejuvenated and a big smile on his face.

The notion beckoned to him, strong and undeniable. Damn. He
would
leave … in just a few minutes.

With a soft, replete sigh, she turned her head his way, her eyes dreamy as they met his. A mellow smile lifted her lips, which were pink and puffy from his aggressive kisses, and he responded with a lazy, knowing grin of his own.

She’d pulled the sheet up to her chest in the few minutes he’d been gone, in an attempt at modesty, which he found extremely amusing after everything they’d done and how brazen she’d been. But he could still see the outline of her breasts and nipples and the enticing swell of her hip against the thin covering. Her skin was flushed with warmth and ravishment, and her blond hair was tousled around her head and against her pillow in a soft cloud of silk.

She looked beautiful, besotted, and blissfully sated. Like a woman well and thoroughly
fucked.

His cock twitched and tightened in renewed heat and awareness. He wanted her again, which was unbelievable since, just minutes ago, he’d felt wrung dry. Then again, just remembering how hungry and insatiable she’d been—so needy—was enough to energize any red-blooded guy for another go-around with someone so sexy and uninhibited. Fortunately, she was all his, as was all that wild, tempestuous passion of hers. She’d showed him tonight that he could do anything he wanted to her, that she was eager and willing to explore dark desires and forbidden fantasies.

Which was a good thing, since he had plenty in mind.

Not bothering to cover up his own nudity, he stretched out on his side, propped his head in his hand, and asked the one question that had him very curious: “How long has it been for you?”

She groaned and winced, and glanced up at the ceiling in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. “God, was I that obvious?”

He chuckled, finding her chagrin too endearing in the aftermath of such wild, hot sex. “Maybe just a little,” he teased, and gently touched a finger to her chin to make her look at him again. “You were very enthusiastic—not that I’m complaining, since I reaped the benefits of all that pent-up desire.”

She grinned wryly. “Sexual frustration will do that to a person.”

“Trust me; I know. I’ve been feeling that same way myself since I first laid eyes on you,” he said meaningfully—a month in which he’d lusted after her, and no other woman would do. Despite all those restless, erotic dreams that had left him hot and bothered and moody at times, Liz had been well worth the wait. “Now, fess
^u
p.”

Her fingers absently bunched and pleated the sheet between her breasts. “You really don’t want to know,” she murmured.

“Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t ask.” He meant that sincerely. “So what are we talking here? One year? Two years?” he guessed.

“Almost three years,” she admitted with a slight grimace. “Since my husband died.”

That revelation raised his brows. “Wow,” he said, stunned that she’d denied herself that long. Stunned that no other man had persuaded her into bed sooner.

Picking up her left hand, he ran his thumb over the gold band she wore. A treasure that had once belonged to her mother. “Then I guess this ring did its job.”

She laughed, her eyes sparkling with agreement. “Until now, anyway.” Then she shrugged and grew a bit more serious. “I suppose it was just a matter of waiting for the right guy to come along to sway me into an affair—that, along with the right set of circumstances.”

And their circumstances had been ideal. “All I can say is, lucky me.” He rubbed her soft, cool fingers along
the light beard growth on his cheek and watched her nipples blossom and bead against the sheet. “But three years is a hell of a long time to be off the market. I understand grieving after your husband died, but why would you want men to think you’re taken for so many years?”

He expected her to tell him that her husband had been her one true love, that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to date after his death, because she’d been too devastated and it had taken her time to get past her feelings for him. It was the most logical explanation.

“Dating and men just haven’t been a priority for me, not when I have The Daily Grind, which has demanded a whole lot of my time over the past three years.” She gently pulled her hand out of his grasp, and though he felt her physically withdrawing from him and the conversation, he let her go.

Her answer surprised him. Her reply was convenient, too pat and evasive for a woman who’d gone to such lengths to give the impression that she was taken. He instinctively knew there was more to her reasons for remaining single. He’d heard the feigned nonchalance in her tone, which contradicted the sudden defensive tilt to her chin that told him he was traversing on deeply personal issues.

And because he was a man who liked puzzles and unraveling mysteries, he persisted. “Women run businesses of their own and date all the time. Some are even married with families.”

“I’m sure those women weren’t left in debt up to their eyeballs by a man they thought they knew and trusted.”

He didn’t miss the underlying bite to her tone, which did nothing to deter him. “Your husband?”

“Yes.” She shook her head and blew an upward stream of breath that ruffled her bangs across her brow. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

Neither could he, since he wasn’t one to indulge in
cozy, intimate chitchat and personal revelations after sex. But now that it was out in the open, he was intent on discovering the real story behind that ring encircling her finger, and a past that had obviously kept her celibate for an amazingly long time.

Slipping his leg beneath the covers, he found her calf and casually caressed her smooth skin with his toes. “What happened?”

She rolled to her side, facing him less than a foot away, and exhaled a slow, unraveling breath. “I was naive and fell for a reckless, untamable charmer who knew how to say all the right things to sweep a woman off her feet, and he did exactly that.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen across her cheek, accepting the excuse to touch her for what it was. “You certainly don’t strike me as naive.” Not when it came to life
or
men.

“Okay, then I was a blind fool.” Self-recriminations laced her voice. “Travis’s impulsive, frivolous ways were so invigorating compared to my sensible, practical life, and he gave me something to look forward to at the end of all the hours I was working at the café. He was daring and adventurous, and that made me feel a sense of freedom that was new and exciting and addicting. So when he asked me to marry him after three months of dating, I said yes and we did the deed in a quickie civil ceremony that my aunt and uncle found out about after the fact.” A noticeable wince creased her features.

He resisted the urge to smooth out those disturbing wrinkles with his thumb, a comforting gesture that took him off guard. “I take it they weren’t happy about not being invited to the wedding?”

“They weren’t happy about the marriage, period. Or Travis as a husband. They’d never really liked him.” She yawned as the late hour, her long day, and physical exhaustion began taking its toll. “I had a huge argument with my aunt and uncle, my first ever yelling,
screaming match with them, as I defended Travis and my right to marry who I wanted.”

Her voice dropped in volume, the regret she harbored unmistakable. “In hindsight, they had good reason not to trust my judgement when it came to Travis, because they saw deeper than just the surface of a good-looking face and flirtatious smile. They saw his charming personality for what it was—a way to get what he wanted.”

“And he wanted you?”

She nodded. “It seemed so, maybe because I was so eager to please, and yes, even naive when it came to men who were so good at deceiving women. He definitely conned me.”

“How?” Another nudge to get her to spill more.

“Within the first six months of our marriage, after the honeymoon stage wore off, I started to see a different side to him, too. A selfish, self-centered, arrogant side he didn’t bother to hide. During our two-year marriage, he couldn’t hold down a job. I pretty much supported both of us while trying to get The Daily Grind to the point where it was solvent and making a profit. I’d started the business with a loan from my aunt and uncle, and a small-business loan from the bank, so there was a good chunk of money going out in repayment. And since I spent a lot of time at the café—over twelve hours a day—it gave Travis a whole lot of time to play.”

Steve experienced a surge of anger on her behalf. “Sounds like he should have at least been at the café helping you out.”

“Oh, he always had an excuse why he couldn’t be there,” she said with a bitter laugh. “His best one was that he had job interviews lined up, but none of them ever seemed to pan out. If I questioned him, we’d get in a big fight. Sometimes he’d storm out after accusing me of not trusting him and leave for a few days. And
when he returned, he wouldn’t tell me where he’d been, just that he needed time to cool off. After a while, I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

It wasn’t difficult to figure out where the marriage had been heading. “You filed for divorce?”

“I never had the chance,” she rasped, a flicker of pain passing through her gaze. “The night I intended to ask for a divorce and tell him to pack his bags and find another place to live, he wrapped his sports car around a telephone pole, going over eighty miles per hour, and was instantly killed because he wasn’t wearing a seat belt. He was with a woman that also died on impact, who I later discovered he’d been having an affair with.”

His chest squeezed tight. What in the world did he say to the terrible betrayal she’d endured? He felt out of his element, and shocked as hell at what she’d been through.

“See what I mean by
naive?”
She didn’t wait for him to answer or refute her claim, obviously believing it was true. “And if that mess wasn’t humiliating enough, within a month of his death, I started receiving all these credit card bills in the mail that he’d applied for under both of our names but had kept from me. He’d bought jewelry and meals at fancy restaurants I’d never eaten with him, and he stayed in some pretty fine hotels the nights he didn’t sleep at home. He paid the minimum payment on the credit cards while purchasing tons of stuff for his girlfriend, from furniture to clothes to a five-thousand-dollar stereo system he’d obviously enjoyed while he stayed at her place. To my horror, I realized that
I
was now tens of thousands of dollars in debt because everything was in my name, too.”

She lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers, letting the lamplight glimmer off the shiny band. “Which brings us back to this ring I wear, and three years without sex,” she said humorously, as if she hadn’t just given
him a very private glimpse into her past, and possibly even a part of her soul. “In a nutshell, I’ve been working my butt off to pay off all those creditors and make sure I don’t lose my business in the process. And then there’s the money my aunt and uncle loaned me as part of my investment that I haven’t paid in full yet, either, since I had to cut back on their monthly payments in order to meet my obligations with those credit cards that I’m still trying to pay off.”

Now he understood her desperation in accepting his cut-rate fee in exchange for his help in finding her cousin, as well as her insistence on signing her paycheck over to him so he wouldn’t be one of those debts hanging over her head. Their deal was temporary the whole way around, yet he’d never expected to be so intrigued by Liz beyond anything sexual.

While she’d been an unabashed vixen an hour ago, this strong yet vulnerable facet to her appealed to him, too. She was so determined not to depend on anyone to get her out of the mess she’d gotten herself into with her deceased husband, and now she was taking on the responsibility of finding Valerie, too.

“Dating and men are a distraction I haven’t been able to afford the past three years,” she said, bringing his mind and attention back to her.

“And I am?”

“You, Mr. Wilde, are a very exciting fling that came around at an opportune time.” Smiling drowsily, she brushed her fingers along the tribal band on his arm. “I know exactly where we stand with one another. Neither of us wants anything long-term or complicated, so our arrangement is perfect.”

She was offering him the kind of reassurances and rules he would have demanded from any other woman, yet his jaw clenched in denial, his reaction knee-jerk and unexpected. But Liz was right about them, and he’d do
well to remember the boundaries of their temporary relationship. Which meant ending their night together and leaving—now.

“I’d better get going,” he said abruptly. “You’re about to fall asleep on me, and I’ve got an early day at the office tomorrow. I plan to talk to a few people I know with some connections and see if I can get anything on the inside track of The Ultimate Fantasy.” Moving off the bed, he pulled on his briefs and jeans. The rest of his clothes were still in the living room.

“I’ll walk you to the door so I can lock up after you.” Sliding off her side of the mattress, she grabbed the worn and faded cotton robe tossed on a nearby dresser. “I also have that application filled out with Valerie’s personal information, or as much of it as I could find when I went digging through her bills. There’s some bank and credit card numbers I pulled from statements, along with her social security number and mother’s maiden name, just in case you need any of that to check her accounts.”