Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3)

by Suzanne Halliday

  “I like the way you smell,” she murmured and then buried her nose in his neck. The grip she had on his nape was firm and unwavering. If she didn’t stop wiggling in his arms he was gonna drop her to the damn floor and take her fast and hard where they stood.

  Shoving open the bedroom door with his foot, he carried her swiftly into the room and headed for the bed. But before he could lay her carefully on the dark green bedspread and feast his eyes on her innocent beauty, she slid from his grasp and landed gracefully on her toes.

  “Oh Ty!” she gasped. Her hand flattened on his chest, and then clutched at his shirt. He studied her, curious to discover what caused her exclamation. And then he saw what she was looking at and a big happy grin spread ear-to-ear on his face.

  The bed. She was checking out his bed and from her initial reaction, it was safe to say she liked what she was seeing. So did he. The antique four-poster was his most cherished acquisition. It was big and solid—like him. The carved head and footboards showed the highs and lows of every grain and design in the wood.

  He’d never met a woman who was uneager to be in his bed, but seeing ‘tessa run at the humongous design element like a kid set loose in a pet store—adorable and so in keeping with her unabashed, open personality—was like throwing starter fluid on a log fire.

  “Do you sleep on this?” she asked. Her incredulous tone was funny.

  “No. It’s just for show. I sleep on the floor in the corner.”

  What was her reaction to his flip reply? She actually looked at the corner where he pointed as if expecting to find a pillow and a blanket to back up his claim.

  She rushed him, laughing and slapped both hands on his chest. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” She chuckled. “Go ahead and add gullible to my fascinating attributes. By-product of being the youngest. I fall for everything.”

  For real? Cool. As a matter of fact it was more than cool. Meant he’d have no trouble getting her to fall for him.

  Instead of backing away, she put her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder—observing the distinctive bed in silence. After a minute or so she squeezed him tight.

  “It’s magnificent.” She pulled away and looked at him briefly before lowering her gaze. “Just like you.”

  “Well,” he drawled. “I do look pretty banging propped against the headboard reading the newspaper in my birthday suit.”

  “Wouldn’t mind seeing that,” she muttered.

  Cal replayed taking her face in his hands and just like before, hers came up and held fast to his wrists.

  “That can be arranged,” he told her. “And just so we’re clear, there will be no cab calling ‘tessa.”

  “Ooooh,” she quipped, surprising him with her lighthearted attitude. “Is this a sleepover then? I didn’t bring a toothbrush. And no change of clothes.”

  “You don’t need either,” he growled. “I’ll take care of you, babe.”

  With those few words, lighthearted took a hike and desire slid into the shotgun seat.

  “Do you mean that?” Her playfulness from just seconds ago was replaced by a breathless tension zapping him in the core of his manhood. He felt the power of his masculinity taking control of her exquisite femininity.

  “Yes,” he solemnly answered. Gently kissing the corners of her mouth till she was gasping for air, he finished by saying, “That bed is centuries old and who knows when the last time was that it witnessed what I’m about to do to you.”

  “So you were serious?”

  Hmmm. He was dead serious, but she was referring to something else.

  “You said you never bring anyone here. That this is your private refuge.”

  Cal nodded and wrapped his arms around her body, pulling in for a full body clinch. “No one else has ever been in this bed. With me.”

  He wanted to say she was the first and maybe the last. Wanted to whisper crude, dirty things about everything he planned to do to her in that bed. Even thought about threatening to chain her to the big end posters and keeping her as his bed slave. A worthy scenario for such an old and magnificent historical object. But he kept all that shit locked away inside his head. Plenty of time for that kind of fuckery later. Right now he had an innocent to seduce.

  SHE KNEW PRECISELY WHAT SHE was doing. Absolutely certain that it wasn’t the vodka acting, Charlie felt completely at ease with what was undoubtedly about to happen.

  Just because she was a technical virgin didn’t mean she was a sexless being with no desires or needs. She’d just never known anyone worthy of being the first. Was it weird that she was in her twenties and without a string of hook-ups and fuck boys on her sexual ledger? Sure. No doubt about it, but she wasn’t like everyone else.

  Emotionless sex. Scratching an itch. The very thought made her squeamish. Letting a man into your body had to hold some sort of special place in a girl’s life—at least, that’s the way she’d always seen it. Until Cal Tyler swept into her life with his jug of peanut butter and titillating spider and fly flirtation, she’d barely come close to wanting anyone as much as she wanted him.

  And she did. Want him. Plain truth. No bullshit. She wanted this complicated man to show her what all the hoopla is about.

  Hearing him admit to her being the first and only girl he’d brought to this bed was way more satisfying and arousing than it should’ve been. She wasn’t stupid. Making love to her wasn’t an admission of love or the promise of a future. They were two Americans, time out of place, come together in the eternal city and swept away by a mutual seduction. And besides, who even knew what tomorrow would bring? The world is such a crazy place that it wasn’t exactly unusual to wonder at times if there was a future in store for the planet at all.

  This moment—being present right now—that’s all they or anyone had for sure.

  Leaning into him, Charlie enjoyed the way his arms tightened. “Will you promise me something?” she asked hesitantly.

  Rhiann and Brynn too were always yammering on and on about being completely honest, insisting that owning your truth was the only way to avoid disappointment. She might be showing her naïveté with what she said next but she didn’t care. This was part of her truth.

  Ty’s warm brown eyes captured hers and didn’t waver or look away. “Anything ‘tessa. I’m in your hands too, babe. This is a two-way street.”

  She toyed with the buttons on his shirt and bit her lip searching for a way to say what needed to be said without sounding like a dolt. Too embarrassed to hold his gaze any longer, Charlie lowered her eyes and cleared her throat.

  “Please don’t use the word fuck. I can’t … it’s just …” she shuddered. Scrunching up her nose from distaste, she shook her head quickly and grunted, “Blech,” as her tongue stuck out.

  His chest rose and fell with a rumble of soft chuckles. “Look at me.”

  The button she fingered became more fascinating with his command. The heat in her neck that was moving onto her face, and knowing a deep rosy blush was evident sort of robbed Charlie of confidence.

  He surprised the shit out of her when he grabbed a handful of hair and jerked her head back. Oh my God. Caveman tactics. Yikes! Her embarrassed blush deepened when his commanding move spurred a rush of tingling arousal that made her damn undies a gooey mess.

  Eyes locked on his, she saw the glimmer of satisfaction from having subdued her so easily. Oh, jeez. If only he knew.

  “Oh, ‘tessa. Believe me. Fucking you was never an option. I know what’s going on, baby girl. Well,” he shrugged so cutely she wanted to kiss him silly, “ I think I know.”

  Swoon. And then pick myself up and swoon again, she thought. He knew. Had read the signals. She was right to trust him. Right to put this once-in-a-lifetime moment in his capable hands. He said he’d take care of her and she believed him.

  “So how does this go? Do we undress? Is there anything I’m supposed to do? What about protection? Oh my God. I’m a mess at this,” she giggled. “Sorry.”

  “You are not a
mess,” he drawled. “But I’ll tell you what.” After a brief hug he turned her loose and started wandering around the big room. She watched, entranced because he was so beautiful to look at.

  With an adorably sardonic expression on his handsome face he teased her. “You asking a laundry list of questions as if you’re getting ready to try out a new recipe is kind of tough on a guy’s ego. Here I was trying to be all romantic-like and seduce your sexy ass.”

  She laughed. Shit, he was right. But asking questions and getting a feel for whatever situation she found herself in was just how she was. Not very sexy at all, so she made a face at him and begged for leeway.

  “Sorry. Please don’t laugh at me.”

  He produced one of those long stick lighter things out of thin air and lit a grouping of candles in the bottom of a tall hurricane. The room began to glow with warm candlelight. Believing this setting had never been used to stage a seduction, Charlie considered everything visible throughout the room with an open eye.

  He liked candles. They were everywhere. And books. There were stacks of books on the nightstand—he favored the left side of the bed. The sumptuous bedspread was a warm sage green—very masculine while across the head of the bed was an excess of pillows. She guessed he wasn’t kidding about lounging in bed to read the newspaper.

  The bed angled out from a corner instead of a placement along an empty wall. Two tall windows hung with long curtains that pooled on the floor beneath looked out across the rooftops of Rome, while not far away she spied the lit up spectacle which was the Castel Sant’Angelo.

  What a beautiful and romantic place! Watching him carefully set the stage was exciting and made the occasion even more special. He closed the curtains on one window but pushed open the other enough that the sultry breeze of a warm autumn evening swirled through the room.

  Charlie felt like Alice when she was deep inside the looking glass—standing where he left her—committing the whole scene to memory. When he leaned against the solid wood bed poster and looked her over, his perusal was so thorough and specific she felt like a work of art on display.

  “Humor me,” he told her in a husky voice. Twirling his finger in a circle he said, “Turn around. Slowly.”

  Reaching up, she gathered all of her hair into a tail she flung over her shoulder. Seeing the curls of her long tresses covering a single breast, she noted the rapid rise and fall of her chest as excitement made her breathe heavy.

  Rising up to her tip toes she executed a perfect pirouette, performing one slow pass as requested, followed by a much faster turn that made her dress flare out. He was on top of her before she stopped twirling.

  Excitement thundered to life inside her. Enough to make Charlie act rashly, with little concern for the outcome of her actions.

  “Stop messing with me, Ty. Kiss me. Kiss me now.” And then she dove onto his mouth, her arms wrapped tight about his neck.

  Kissing him with a frantic need that just wouldn’t be satisfied, he let her have at it for a minute and then he took control. Crushed to him, he grabbed a handful of her ass and kneaded the flesh while his other arm kept her in place.

  It wasn’t enough. She twisted in his embrace, feverishly trying to connect their bodies in any way she could.

  Ty demanded more and more. When she opened to him, he fed his tongue into her mouth along with his earthy growls. His occasional grunt reminded her of an animal on the prowl, calling to his mate.

  Charlie clung to him and held on for dear life. The hand on her ass began lifting the loose dress up. There’d really be no turning back once he got her clothes off. She didn’t feel nervous. Not really. Sometimes you just know when something is right. And besides, every new beginning was filled with magic. And this magic, Ty’s brand of sexy magic, it felt like something that was missing from her life.

  With no reason to play coy, she disentangled from his greedy embrace, slid a thumb against her lips to wipe up the saliva from their kiss and then raised her arms straight up over her head so he’d have no problem lifting the dress off. With such bold encouragement from her, he wasted no time whipping the delicate garment off her body, stopping only to carefully slide the cuffs from her wrists.

  Immediately, the soft night air caused her skin to prickle. She didn’t need to look to know her nipples had peaked and were pressing against the stretchy material of her bra.

  He stared at her. And kept staring. She remained still beneath his wolfish gaze, pushing her shoulders back and sucking in her gut.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  Oh. Well. That was good, right? At least he hadn’t screamed ‘I’m blinded’ and run screaming from the room.

  He knelt slowly in front of her and put warm fingers into the waistband of her briefs.

  “Seamless, high waisted, you said.” He kissed the skin beneath her belly button. “You didn’t say anything about them being flesh colored or that the matching bra was little more than a ribbon of fabric.”

  Cal Tyler on his knees sliding her plain stretchy panties over her hips and down her legs was the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to her. So far.

  When she lifted her feet one at a time so he could remove them completely, he looked up at her and growled. “I can smell how much you want this, baby girl.”

  He plucked at the swirls of blonde hair topping her mound. Thank God she’d just had a waxing, a thought that forced an involuntary giggle.

  Slapping a hand across her mouth when he looked at her questioning, Charlie shrugged.

  “Am I amusing you, Tesoro?”

  Oh crap—really? Didn’t Tesoro mean treasure or something close to that? Damn. Now she wished those undies weren’t in a ball on the floor because another surge of molten arousal rushed into her center.

  It didn’t make holding onto her composure any easier when he kept tugging on her lady-scaped pubic hair.

  “Laughing at myself. Just had a whew moment because seriously, thank God for waxing.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, little one. You crack me up. Show me what you had done.”

  “What? How?” He was kidding, she hoped.

  “Well, this is the perfect vantage point to check out your waxer’s handiwork.”

  “And how the hell would you know that, might I ask?” She tried to put some snarky oomph into the taunt but doubted that’s how her breathy, over-excited delivery came off.

  He smirked. And shrugged. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s just say I consider myself an experienced judge of a woman’s um …” He was openly laughing at her, dammit. “Lady bits, and the proper grooming of.”

  It was all sorts of ridiculous to cross her arms and stomp her foot while her ass was bare and her pubes under examination, but that’s what she did.

  When the shirt was completely unbuttoned and hanging open with the tails pulled from his trousers, he grinned broadly and gripped her ankles. “Little wider apart, babe. Got it? Yeah, like that,” he assured her when she adjusted her stance. “Now turn around, keep your legs apart and bend over. Grab your ankles.” He laughed and laughed. “Shit. Saw that in a comment on Tumbler and couldn’t resist.”

  As she turned around, widened her stance and bent forward, she had the random thought that maybe someday they could compare Tumbler accounts. She bet his was full of porn and car. Hers? Well hers was full of art, pretty things and lady porn. He’d be shocked if he knew. Or maybe not.

  Once she was in position, she got worried by the deafening silence in the room. Biting her lip, she anxiously whimpered, “Ty?”

  “Sh, sh, sh.” He put a hand on her ass and soothed her with a light caress. “Don’t say anything. Just let me enjoy the view.”

  She did until her legs trembled so bad she couldn’t hold the position. In her mind’s eye, she was dripping with need and every tissue in her body was enflamed and swollen.

  She stood up and turned around to look at him. His eyes burned with something that stole her breath.

  “I get t
hat you don’t want to feel fucked. But are there any other words or phrases on the hard limit list?”

  She answered honestly. “No. There’s a time for crude and lewd. I think this qualifies.” Charlie feathered her fingers down the side of his face. “Go ahead, Mr. Sexy Pants. Talk dirty to me.”

  “Oh, thank fuck ‘tessa because your pussy is seriously fucking beautiful.”

  “So I shouldn’t bitch about the price tag?”

  He kissed her tummy again—this time right at the hairline .

  “No. Whatever you paid was worth it. I am jealous though that anyone else gets to see you exposed.”

  Charlie smirked and shook her head at him. God, men were so weird at times. “First of all, the waxer is a woman and,”

  He cut her off with a bark of laughter. “As if that makes it okay! How do you know she wasn’t some lipstick-lesbian spreading the wax? Someone who went home that night and fingered herself to a screaming O thinking about licking those puffy, swollen lips and the jewel so cleverly hidden?”

  Well goddamn. Had he really just gone there? He had!

  She sputtered, stammered and searched for some sort of pithy comeback but none came to mind.

  The look on his face went from teasing and playful to hard and uncompromising.

  “Enough of that. Wax, don’t wax. I don’t care. I’ll feast on your pussy either way and love every second. I’ve waited long enough. Let me see your tits, babe. Take the bra off and offer them to me. Do it, ‘tessa. Don’t think about it.”

  She pulled the stretch cami bra over her head as he tore the shirt off his torso. Her gasp when she saw his insanely muscled chest matched his grunt when her boobs swung free.

  “Oh my fucking God,” he groaned. From his place on his knees, Ty reached for her breasts when she cupped them in both hands and offered them up. Weighing each one, he looked mesmerized as he massaged and kneaded the plump mounds. Charlie moaned. Her tits were always off-limits. Guys generally treated her like a mindless sex-bot and only focused on her enormous jugs but what he was doing felt much different. Almost reverent, worshipful.