Baby.
He grips my wrists. “Do your worst.”
I look at where his hands are. “I can’t.”
“You can, angel. You’ve hit me harder without even trying.”
Something tells me he’s not referring to our run-ins. “Wilder.” It’s almost a whimper as I start to give in.
He dips to look into my eyes. “I want this, too, Rose. Just not—”
“I know—” I cut him off. “I’m not looking for forever, Wilder. One night. The next day, I’ll be on that field picking rocks of some sort—”
And then, as if every ounce of self-control evaporates, his mouth is on mine. Ducking his hands under the hem of my shirt, Wilder grips the back of my thighs and lifts me into his arms.
With my legs securely around him, he twists and presses me against the door, and I’m disappointed he’s not carrying mestraight to the bedroom.
With barely a free hand, he twists and pulls the latches on all four locks on my door. “Where should we go?” he asks.
“Bedroom.” I breathe out what I hope will be the only consent he needs.
“What do you want me to do to you in there, Rose?”
“God, everything. Anything. I want to be yours tonight.”
He growls in response and with a few short steps, we’re in my bedroom.
He sets me on my feet. “You still mad?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good.”
“Are you?”
“Furious.”
I grin. “Good.”
He grins back and kisses me hard. I want this passion. This fury and hunger. Every part of him he wants to give. It’s wild and addictive, the way I want him.
We’re panting as we step apart. He all but rips the shirt off his back and I tug on his belt—half expecting him to stop me so he stays in control.
But he doesn’t.
He watches me as I loosen the pants off his waist and shove them down.
He steps out of them then reaches for my hand, kissing it softly before walking me backwards to sit on the bed. “Give me a minute,” he says, placing a feathery kiss on my lips. “I’m going to get cleaned up before I touch you.”
He waits for my nod, then disappears into the bathroom.
I hear the water run for a few short minutes while my mind races. Will this be a mistake? Will things be awkward after?
No. No mistakes if there are no feelings, right?
For Wilder, at least. For me? I’ll be all right. I have to be.Because I want him. I want to give in to .?.?. whatever this is. To this uncontrollable attraction to a man who makes my skin sizzle when he’s near.
And when he’s not.
