Wild For You

by J. C. Reed

  I let my tongue swirl again before sucking hard, alternating between teasing and guiding his hips to thrust into my mouth. He grips my head and lets out another groan, but instead of coming, he pulls out, his dick slick and glistening with lust.

  “Did I do something—” I start when he flips me onto my stomach, cutting me off. A soft shriek escapes my lips as he pushes me back onto the sofa.

  “What are you doing?” I turn to regard him and notice his green eyes are dark and hooded with lust. He’s so turned on that his cock’s huge, and dangerously close to my entrance. Instant moisture pools between my legs, readying me for what I desperately want.

  “I don’t want to see you naked on your knees. I want to be inside you, and find out if you’re as sweet and delicious as you look like,” Cash growls.

  “Then do it now.” I make eye contact and gasp as she presses his cock against me, rubbing his length from my clit to my core. His hands settle on my hips, drawing me closer to him, our bodies in perfect alignment.

  He peers at me with concern. “You sure?”

  I nod, and he presses his length against my pussy, rubbing it up and down against my clit, robbing me of my senses.

  “Oh, that’s good,” I prompt, eager to get started.

  “Is your pussy wet enough for me?” he asks in that deep rumble of his. “Let’s find out.”

  Without waiting for my reply, he raises my hips a little higher, splaying me open before him. And then he’s inside me, stretching me the way I’ve never been stretched before.

  I throw my head back and let out a whimper. It doesn’t hurt, but the sensation consumes me nonetheless. The sense of fullness is robbing me of all senses.

  “More. Take me. Own me. Never let me wait.” I moan and lean back, my walls clenching to get more of him inside me. Desire thrums like the string of a guitar, pulsing and vibrating through my entire body.

  “I don’t intend to, sweetheart. You are going to be mine...and mine alone.” For a while, he keeps still inside me as I get used to his size, but his fingers are playing with my clit, stroking, putting pressure, preparing me for what’s to come. I moan with pleasure and move my hips some more, silently urging him on because I can’t take the wait.

  I have to have him now.

  “Cash, please,” I beg when I feel I can’t take his torture any longer.

  “Relax, baby,” he whispers, and I know that the safest place is here—with him.

  Finally, his length thrusts into me, moving slowly until my moisture begins to ease the way. With each stroke I can feel my orgasm building, taking me to the brink of something powerful and amazing. My internal muscles begin to contract around him. And when he presses his fingers to my clit, the pressure is so strong it sends me over the edge.

  And I take him with me, the heat of his release so strong it brings on another wave.

  His hands let go of me and he collapses onto the sofa, drawing me to his chest. I snuggle against him, spent, my breathing short and labored as our hearts beat together.

  * * *

  ***

  * * *

  I wake up, confused, unsure of where I am. The walls are colored in a soft blue hue. My first impression is that it’s still early morning, and the sun hasn’t broken through the thick curtain of last night’s clouds. And then I realize we’re still in Cash’s home cinema and there are no windows to let in the glorious morning rays.

  My cell phone shows it’s already past 10 a.m.

  I get up to gather my scattered clothes and notice the empty bottle and wine glasses littering the table. Some of the pillows are piled up in a telltale arrangement. My cheeks warm up as I remember Cash’s weight pinning me against them to ride me hard.

  By the way, where is he?

  There’s no sign of him. No note. Nothing.

  Which can only mean he’s making breakfast.

  I slip into last night’s clothes and make my way upstairs. The door’s open. On a hunch, I step into Cash’s bedroom and peek into his walk-in closet. Some of the hangars hang empty on the rack. The space where I swear I saw a brown suitcase is empty, too.

  Obviously, I’m not familiar with the contents of his closet, but I’m pretty sure Cash packed up a few things.

  My heart drops.

  Swallowing the bitter acid rising in my throat, I check his bathroom and find it meticulously clean, but that’s not what worries me.

  His toothbrush is missing.

  Unease washes over me, followed by fury.

  He wouldn’t just up and leave without telling me, would he?

  Just because some clothes, his suitcase, and toothbrush are missing doesn’t mean he’s left. Right?

  “Cash,” I call out and get no answer.

  I head for the kitchen, half expecting to find him there, wearing nothing but a cocky smile. Or maybe we have a visitor, and he hasn’t heard me calling.

  But the kitchen is empty, too. There’s no brewed coffee, no lingering smell of bacon and eggs. Not even the smell of his aftershave.

  “Cash,” I call out again, even though I know better than to expect an answer.

  More acid rises in my throat, choking me. Where the hell is he?

  That’s when I spy Margaret through the window. My heart’s beating fast as I dash outside.

  She greets me with a smile. “Erin, how are you?”

  “Where’s Cash?” I ask, ignoring her question, my voice shaking with anger. I’m so livid I don’t mind that my hair’s a mess and my clothes are disheveled.

  “Oh dear.” She regards me for a few long moments, her gaze prodding but not judging. “Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea.”

  I fold my arms over my chest, not wanting to sound rude, but I can’t help myself. “I don’t need tea. I need to know where Cash is right now.”

  “He left early this morning. My husband drove him to the airport.”

  “Airport? Why would he…” Hundreds of thoughts begin to race through my mind. Why didn’t he wake me up? Why didn’t he tell me that he needed to leave? Why didn’t he bother leaving a note? I push them all to the back of my mind to focus on the conversation. “Did he say where he was going?”

  “Only that it was business related and important.”

  I nod. What could possibly be so important that he left without waking me?

  Surely if it were an emergency, he would have told me.

  “When did he ask you to take him to the airport?”

  Her warm eyes meet mine, hesitating. But why? She’s considering whether to lie, but she won’t. I know it. “He asked us yesterday. He wanted to be picked up at six sharp.”

  “Right. Of course.” I storm inside, leaving Margaret staring after me. Once I’ve reached my bedroom, I grab my phone. My finger hovers over the touchscreen.

  I have to call Shannon. But what should I tell her? That Cash has just disappeared on me? I sink down onto my bed, my hands shaking.

  Cash is an adult. He doesn’t have to tell me a damn thing. I have no right to inquire where he is.

  Even though he told me that he loved me, we’re not in a relationship.

  Absentmindedly, I swipe my finger over the screen. I’m on the way back to the kitchen when it lights with three texts, all from him.

  I stop mid-stride.

  My heart thuds as I read the first text.

  * * *

  Cash: Business emergency. Had to take the first plane.

  * * *

  I frown. That’s a lie given that he knew he had to leave and could have told me last night.

  I move on the second text.

  * * *

  Cash: Won’t be back before the weekend. Please water the plants.

  * * *

  My frown deepens. Please water the plants? What the fuck?

  * * *

  The last message reads:

  * * *

  Cash: Enjoy your week off. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

  * * *

  That’s it? No more info? A
nd why the formality? We fucked a few hours ago, and he treats me like I’m a mere employee.

  The arrogant SOB.

  I read the text messages over and over again, trying to make sense of them. But I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t understand why he’s being the way he is.

  I should be grateful that he texted at all, but all those weeks together, his declaration of love and him telling me that I was important to him, they all made me feel like something magical was happening between us.

  Clearly, I was wrong.

  Maybe he wanted me to sleep in, get some rest. But why ask Margaret’s husband to drive him to the airport knowing I would have wanted to drive him?

  Unless he thought I might ask questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.

  But why?

  My heart skips a beat, then another. Without thinking, I start to type, my anger flaring up again.

  * * *

  Me: Why didn’t you tell me you needed to leave? I could have driven you to the airport.

  * * *

  I wait a few minutes. When it’s clear he has decided to ignore me, I draft another text.

  * * *

  Me: Where are you? Please call me as soon as you can. I’m worried. Tell me what’s going on.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, there’s still no reply, no sign he’s even read my messages. With every passing hour I get more anxious, unable to do anything but stare at the cell phone in my hand. I’m so anguished that I brush off Margaret as she offers to take me shopping.

  As if Cash’s sudden aloofness isn’t bad enough, my sister texts me, forcing me to lie.

  * * *

  Debra: Guess what? I got the promotion. How was your week?

  * * *

  Me: Congrats. You deserve it. I had a great time. Gotta get to work. Kiss the kids for me.

  * * *

  I finish typing up a response to Debra’s text and then switch off my phone. A great time is an understatement. I’ve had a fantastic time. Everyone’s been welcoming, showing me how much they appreciate my work. Such a shame Cash doesn’t feel the same way.

  Everything was perfect…until now.

  Until Cash decided to leave without a word, as if I’m some acquaintance, his therapist, a friend, nothing more than a fuck buddy.

  I shake my head grimly to fight off the moisture gathering in my eyes. I’m not crying because I’ve just realized he never trusted me; I’m crying because of the way he’s made me feel.

  I feel dirty, used, taken for granted.

  Sleeping with him was a mistake.

  I should never have believed his promises because they were worthless.

  New fact I’ve just found out about my new patient: Cash Boyd likes to waste no opportunity making it clear that I’m nothing to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Erin

  There’s a saying in sports, which says you’re only as good as your reputation. Or your win. Or a gold medal. Or whatever you’re fighting for. The same saying can be applied in business.

  The deal is done. Dillinger’s mine. It’s been a long two days of hard bargaining and a lot of cash exchanging hands, the process both tiring and bringing me relief because I can finally close this chapter of my life.

  That’s right, I’m done with it because there’s something else in my life now that brings me even more fulfillment.

  It started out as a crazy thought, an idea. After Erin mentioned that she hated the idea of bulls being tortured, it was a done deal to me.

  I had to have him.

  There was no way I’d let an invincible bull like Dillinger be put down just because he had become replaceable. He almost killed me, yes, but he also helped me meet Erin, and for that I’ll always be grateful.

  As I pull up to the house, I can’t wait to see my woman. I should have called Erin, talked to her, told her about my plans, but I needed to find closure myself, on my terms.

  Buying Dillinger was all the closure I needed, the final step to put my past behind me.

  It’s early morning, the sun still low on the horizon.

  The car comes to a screeching halt in the driveway. I barely remember to slam the door before I’m up the stairs and heading into the hallway.

  The house is eerily quiet, but the female touch is everywhere. In the vases with wildflowers and the cushions that are adorning the leather sofas.

  My woman’s touch.

  I smile as I realize just how much I’ve grown to love having Erin’s presence around me, how much peace her words of encouragement and her calm nature have brought me. Her touch and smile have made a difference in my life.

  I missed her during my two-day absence.

  Two whole days wasted without her.

  My body missed her. My heart was empty without her.

  Erin has become my life.

  It took me a while to realize that the feelings I have for her won’t pass, and now I can only hope that she feels the same way about me. The thought of asking her to move in with me, not just as my therapist, but as my girlfriend, fills me with excitement.

  Dillinger’s made me realize life’s too short to let something good pass. She’s that something good, that special someone who’s made me want to leave my past behind and be excited about the future.

  I can’t wait to share my victory with her and then celebrate together in my bed, where I intend to keep her for the rest of our existence.

  Or as long as our love will last.

  “Erin,” I call out impatiently, burying my hand in my pocket, fingering the other thing I acquired in the city.

  She’s not answering, but she can’t be far. I search the kitchen and the living room, then move down the hall, checking out my bedroom first because that’s where I expect to find her.

  Sleeping in our bed, the sheets barely covering her delicious body.

  Instead, strange noises carry over from her bedroom. Noises that sound like—

  Frowning, I stop dead in the doorway, taking in the picture before me.

  Erin’s leaning over her suitcase, stuffing everything in haphazardly, her beautiful face determined and furious.

  Fuck, she’s packing again.

  What the—

  “What are you doing?”

  Slowly, she turns to look at me, her face a mask of fury, her marvelous eyes shooting bolts of lightning. My frown deepens.

  What the fuck did I do this time?

  “You went to Paeroa.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement.

  Shit.

  She knows, and judging from the way her voice is shaking with anger, her entire body trembling, I’m in big trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Erin

  “Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused me?” My voice is shaking as I stare at Cash, taking in the dark shadows around his eyes and the tired expression on his face.

  “It wasn’t my intention,” he says softly.

  “It wasn’t?” I laugh. “You’re a prick. After pouring my heart out to you, after everything we’ve fought for, getting you as far as possible in such a short time, you went to Paeroa. You said you’d never risk your life again, and yet—” I shrug, fighting for words. That he went to a bull riding event shouldn’t be a big deal. But it is. None of the accidents he had ever stopped him from pursuing this madness of his. I harbor no false hope that this time things are different.

  “Erin.” Cash touches my arm gently. I pull back, frustrated, furious, hurt.

  “Sleeping with you was a mistake. Do you realize how you’ve just made me feel? Dirty, used, like the last few weeks were just a big joke to you.” I pause to regard him for a moment. He remains quiet, his eyes taking me in, his expression betraying no emotion. “I thought we had something, and then you up and left, and betrayed the trust I put in you.”

  I start to squeeze more clothes into my suitcase.

  “I won’t let you leave,” Cash says with enough determination to make me look up
from my task.

  “Why? Because you’re used to the world catering to your every whim? Big newsflash. You don’t own me.”

  “I love you.”

  I blink, confused. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He’s reached me in two long strides and sinks onto the bed, bringing his face close to me. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry that I can’t let you go. You’re far too important to me.”

  I scoff, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Obviously not important enough that you wouldn’t betray my trust.”

  “I never betrayed your trust, Erin,” Cash says. “I promised that I would never ride, and I haven’t.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I cross my arms over my chest as I try to read his expression. He looks honest, his words ringing with truth, but maybe he’s just a good liar. “Why did you go to Paeroa, then?”

  “To buy Dillinger.”

  I stare at him for a few seconds. His words echo in my mind, but I can’t quite grasp their meaning…or make sense of them.

  “To do what?”

  “To buy the bull.” Cash laughs at my shocked expression. “My guys are readying his new home this instant.”

  “Why would anyone want to buy a bull if they’re not planning on riding it?”

  “In the beginning, I planned on getting back in the saddle. But then you had that accident, and it got me thinking. I don’t want to lose you, but more than that, I want to live. I want to see where this relationship might take us. And then a friend called to tell me that Dillinger was going to be euthanized because he’s become too uncontrollable and I knew I had to save him.”

  “You never rode?”

  Cash shakes his head, and a little smile lights up his eyes. “No.”