Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  Twenty minutes in, Rhi started feeling antsy. It had been such a great day. Maybe too great. Knowing the calm wouldn’t last made her super conscious that their out-of-time-and-place adventure would soon come to an end.

  Liam would return to his steel and glass tower with Roman ever at his side. Business matters would once again push to the forefront and occupy his time. It was . . . inevitable.

  And her? Jeez. With everything that’d happened, she’d have to find a new normal. There was no way she’d return to working at the magazine. Her halcyon days at Passion were fading in the rearview, and with all the gossip, the circulating of her private photographs, and those damnable blind items—well, the last thing she wanted or needed was to be the object of whispers and finger pointing.

  As if that weren’t enough, could she face going back to her apartment? Liam and Roman tried to play it down, but she wasn’t stupid. The break-ins and having her privacy trashed pretty effectively wiped out her comfort zone.

  Fidgeting, as her anxiety spiked, Rhi sighed again and tried to re-focus on the movie. With her phone set to vibrate, she nearly jumped out of her skin when it buzzed and rattled.

  What’s the matter? read the text on the screen. Liam. Sitting right next to her and texting.

  Lying to him or trying something evasive was ridiculous. He was part of whatever decision-making she needed to do.

  NBD. Just thinking how much I like it here. Being with you and Roman. Wishing we could stay here forever.

  Don’t think Brynn and her husband would appreciate squatters in their vacation home.

  Ha ha. I know.

  What can I do? Can’t stand to see you unhappy.

  Not unhappy. Just sad. Don’t know what’s coming next. For me.

  You’re with me now.

  Jesus, Liam. That’s not what I meant. My job. Apartment. Future.

  I assumed you’d be living with me. And you don’t need a job. Unless you want one. I thought you’d write. Full time.

  Live with you? You assumed? I do not recall being asked . . . usually a living arrangement begins with a question. And I don’t know if writing full time is what I should do. Never mind. Texting about this is ridiculous. Talk later.

  She switched off her phone and laid it aside so he wouldn’t try to keep her talking. She didn’t want to talk. Not really.

  When a particularly loud action scene appeared on screen, Liam shifted and reached for her—lifting Rhi from the seat next to his and settling her on his lap.

  They sat like that for a while, even munching on some popcorn from the bowl they shared. The calm before the storm?

  She started what happened next. Maybe he knew she would or maybe he actually thought she’d sit there placidly and behave.

  Tugging his shirt free of the jeans he wore, Rhi slid her hand underneath and stroked the skin of his abdomen. Even in the darkened room, without being able to see him, she found herself completely distracted with the task of mapping his impressive chest.

  He let her—for a few minutes—then reached for her hand, brought it to his mouth where he kissed her palm, then laid it on his chest, over his heart.

  For a long time, they stared at each other. When Roman loosed a chuckle at the antics on the screen, Liam glanced his way then back at her and shook his head.

  She’d been ready to ravish him regardless of their audience, but Liam knew her better sometimes than she knew herself. Public displays of affection were okay, but she clung to a modesty that probably seemed at odds with her wicked mouth and sometimes outrageous conduct.

  And he felt the same way. It was as if by keeping their intimacies completely private, they created a world just for them. She liked that.

  Snuggling into his big body was just the most decadent thing ever as he held her safely in his embrace as the movie played on. Rhiann closed her eyes and let her other senses have the moment. He smelled so good and she could hear his heart where her cheek rested on his chest. Heavenly.

  Liam would have happily sat there with Rhiann cuddled against him until the end of time. Even though he couldn’t give her definite answers about her concerns for the future, he could be her port amidst the storm.

  When she drifted off to sleep, the most exquisite joy filled him up. It felt so right. The trust he needed from her, if it was even in question at this point, was right there dozing in his arms.

  “Damn, but I enjoy that stupid movie,” Roman chuckled during the closing credits.

  Instead of switching off the system, he made them sit through to the bitter end so he could laugh at a bonus scene. The one where the exhausted, triumphant superheroes silently sat down to enjoy some Shwarma.

  His friend had a thing for the odd food choice and had once forced Liam to sample it from a food truck he insisted was the tits and the balls.

  Finally, movie over, lights back on, Roman came and leaned against the recliner in front of Liam, gazing with what looked like real fondness for the sleeping beauty curled on his lap.

  “She’s taking all this like a champ,” he said quietly.

  “Not really,” Liam assured him just as quietly. “Underneath the game face, she’s freaking the fuck out.”

  Roman grunted. “Me, too.”

  They locked eyes. This whole fucking thing was surreal.

  Liam rarely spoke of his feelings, but things had changed between him and Roman. The care he’d shown for Rhiann had earned the man his gratitude till the end of time.

  “Still can’t believe the fucking call came from inside my team,” he murmured in an obscure reference to the fact that someone on the highest rung of BPG’s hierarchy had betrayed them all.

  “Who knew we had a lunatic masquerading as an emotional terrorist on our hands.”

  “This is my fault,” Liam muttered miserably.

  Roman sighed and shook his head angrily. “I know it seems that way, but she was crazy a long time before you came along. You were just a convenient receptacle for her fuckery. And Miss Wilde? Her appearance in your life triggered whatever laid dormant in her fucked-up mind. Don’t beat yourself up, Liam.”

  Rhiann let out a soft murmur and curled even tighter in his arms.

  “If anything happens to her . . .”

  An odd, tense silence unfolded that made Liam ask, “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Shit, Roman. For Christ’s sake—after everything we’ve been through—you must know by now you can say anything to me.”

  Liam carefully assessed the big man leaning so casually in front of him. His posture was misleading because all of a sudden angry waves of hostility seemed to be oozing from his every pore.

  “I was married once.”

  Jesus—this was news. “What? When?”

  “Long time ago,” Roman shrugged.

  “In a galaxy far, far away?”

  “Something like that,” the bodyguard snorted.

  “What happened?” Liam was almost afraid to hear the answer. Somehow, he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Istanbul. Random, indiscriminate terror bombing. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Holy fuck,” Liam murmured. Jesus. He didn’t even know what to say.

  “Yeah. My thought exactly.”

  After a long moment of silence, Roman looked at him and said, “Cherish what you’ve got, man. That girl is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you. The money? The power? BPG? All that shit means nothing compared to having someone love you like she does.”

  Liam nodded solemnly. He was right about that.

  “Let’s fucking end this thing,” he growled.

  Mmmmm. Rhiann felt like she was drifting on a cloud. A heavenly cloud that cradled her in the most delicious warmth and filled her senses with a drugging pleasure that spread throughout her entire body. Waves of sensation made Rhi shift and writhe slowly.

  Had this day been simply one of the happiest of her life? It had. And why? Because she loved Liam Ashforth and, at
long last, her feelings didn’t have to be a secret, hidden from view in shadows that had denied her the right to claim him as her very own.

  Ahhhh. Something soft and warm caressed her skin. Limbs that felt heavy and useless refused to move, but she managed to reach her hands into her hair, scraping against her skull while arching her back with a sinuous grace. Yessss.

  Bolts of indescribable rapture arced along her nerve endings, racing through her body like lightning. The sensation was . . . electrifying. Mesmerizing. She never wanted to wake from this sensual dream.

  Her legs shifted, but she hadn’t moved them. A sensation, like being in a boat rocking on the water, helped clear the sleepy fog from her brain. The soft warmth on her skin became insistent, almost hungry. She forced her eyes open to find she was in bed; the beautiful glow from a majestic moon shining through the window was the only light in the room.

  She heard a noise. Something deep and earthy. But, wait. That wasn’t her. It was him, and for the briefest moment, she lost herself completely in the sound of his pleasure. It wound around her heart and wove through her nerve endings until she had to cry out. “Liam!”

  He grunted. She heard the guttural growl at the same time she felt it on her skin. Her naked skin.

  “Ooohhhh,” she whimpered. His mouth was feasting on her inner thigh as he sucked the soft flesh with a sensual slowness that drew a long moan from her. Fingers, those wonderfully strong fingers, kneaded and massaged—tracing gentle patterns on her prickling skin.

  Being awakened by his powerful seduction was a unique experience that found her already so deep in a state of intoxicating arousal that she could barely move. With the heat and a sweet, pulsing excitement that felt like it was pouring from her body, overwhelming her senses, she writhed in earnest and moaned deeply.

  His mouth found her pleasure center with devastating results. Licking her exposed femininity, he groaned as his lips devoured her lips. A strong spasm of heated lust burst free inside her.

  “I love your pussy, Rhiann,” he growled against her sensitive flesh.

  Ah, god. Why’d he have to say those things? Hearing the heavy desire in his voice, she knew he meant every word and knowing that he enjoyed loving her so intimately just set her on fire.

  She reached for his head and put both hands in his hair as she pulled her knees up to give him all the room he needed to feast on her.

  “You are so wet, milaya moya. It tastes so good,” he moaned while he sucked, licked, and nibbled on the part of her body that belonged only to him.

  He parted her with trembling hands and grunted his desire before taking her to a place so sensually erotic that she wondered how or if she’d survive.

  But when he drew her sensitive clitoris into his mouth and laved it with his hot tongue, she knew that survive she would because pleasure like this made her want to live forever—love him forever.

  She clutched at his head and writhed uncontrollably. “Yes,” he groaned, his breath tickling her sex. “I like it when you put your fingers in my hair.”

  Rhiann was more than happy to do just that as he drove her to the point of no return with his masterful tongue and greedy lips.

  “So close, so close,” he murmured as her body throbbed with pleasure. She felt his tongue snake out and lap delicately at her center. “I could eat you like this all night,” he told her.

  “Liam,” she groaned.

  “I know baby, I know. Just a little bit more. I can’t get enough of your exquisite taste.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes. It was too much. The pleasure. His words. The sheer carnality of what he was doing.

  She entered that place where everything became a blur. The only thing that mattered was the sensations he was causing. Rhiann started to shake and quiver as she lost all control.

  He groaned and she whimpered when he slid two fingers inside her. “Oh, my god,” he growled.

  Moving those wicked fingers in and out, he curled them with each withdrawal. Massaging an unbearably sensitive spot that made her cry out.

  With each thrusting movement, he grunted.

  I.

  Fucking.

  Love.

  This.

  Pussy.

  And then he flicked her pulsing nub with his whole tongue, ground his fingers deep, and pushed her over the edge.

  An orgasm exploded inside her. It was like nothing she’d felt before . . . exhilarating and terrifying—taking her so high, so fast that the screams of ecstasy tore from her throat and echoed through the moonlit night.

  SUCK. BLOW. SUCK. BLOW. SUCK. Blow.

  Breathing heavily, her lungs felt close to exploding and the muscles in her thighs were on fire as she ran at full speed along the shoreline. But no matter how fast her legs moved, it felt like she was standing still. For every step she took, the goal she chased pulled further ahead.

  Panic and fear pumped into her system—fueling the frantic pursuit.

  Suck. Blow. Suck. Blow. Suck. Blow.

  Her feet pounding on the sand, Rhiann begged whatever higher power was listening to give her the strength to continue. She couldn’t fail. Couldn’t.

  Liam. He was in danger, and she was the only thing standing between him and certain death.

  “Be brave, milaya moya. Be fearless.”

  Oh, God. She needed to reach him. Needed to save him.

  She screamed, hoping the heavens would hear her. “Liam, Liam!”

  Strong hands gripped her shoulders and shook. No! She had to reach him. Had to save him before it was too late.

  Pain like nothing she’d felt before, the anguish of loss, ripped her apart from the inside out. If anything happened to him, she didn’t want to live.

  “Jesus, Rhiann! Wake up, honey. Wake up.”

  Rhi’s eye flew open as the vision of the specter she was chasing disappeared in the distance. She’d failed.

  “Baby, are you all right?”

  What? Liam? Oh, dear God. He was here with her. He was all right. In one piece. She hadn’t failed. It was just a dream. A too real nightmare that still vibrated inside her.

  He was holding her and unless she was hallucinating, she was sobbing into his chest as tremendous waves of desolation wracked her body and soul.

  “Shh, shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay, Rhiann. I’m here. You’re safe. I have you. Come back, honey.”

  Panic-stricken and trembling uncontrollably, Rhi tried to shake off the horrible dream, clawing at Liam’s body to reassure herself that he was really there.

  Held tight in his embrace, she groaned, as a wildness took her over. Falling to pieces while a torrent of anguished tears anointed his skin, Rhiann pressed desperate kisses wherever her lips could reach. She needed to know he was really there. It was the only way to banish the horror of thinking she’d lost him for good.

  When her frantic screaming of his name awakened him, Liam was momentarily stunned. The sounds she made were shockingly feral and whatever had invaded her dreams was causing Rhiann to thrash and strike out, something he found out when he tried to wake her from the nightmare.

  Hearing her in such agony was unbearable. The way she clung to him, shaking and crying, was scaring Liam shitless. The tighter his soothing embrace, the more desperate she became. He had to do something to disengage her mind and senses from the horror that was causing her so much distress.

  He shifted slowly so she tumbled onto her back; a move that immediately restricted Rhiann’s urgent groping. Taking her hands in his, Liam pressed their palms together, entwining their fingers and raised her arms above her head, hoping that by physically taking control, she’d begin to calm and come back from the dark.

  She was panting, as if she’d been running a marathon, but as he held her down and murmured softly that everything was all right, she eventually relaxed enough that her gasping breaths slowed—became less laborious.

  Searching her face, he had to swallow the lump of dread that formed in his chest when her eyes looked at his through a heavy she
en of tears.

  “Rhiann, Rhiann,” he groaned. “Everything is fine. Please, honey. Please calm down.”

  On a choking sob, her lips quivered and she cried out, “I thought I’d lost you. And I can’t . . . oh god, Liam. I can’t lose you again. I can’t.”

  Fuck. She was so completely undone; he wasn’t sure what to do. How could he make her see that she hadn’t lost him? Would never lose him.

  Using his hips to shift her legs, it didn’t take much to wedge his much bigger body between limbs gone limp. Liam couldn’t look away as she wept softly, mewling incoherently. She was killing him.

  Kissing her tears away, he murmured words of love and prayed she’d stop crying before he joined her in the sob fest. He could handle almost anything, but Rhiann weeping miserably over him wasn’t one of them.

  Seconds after that thought grabbed hold of his heart and squeezed, he sank into her body, joining them intimately—bringing a gasp from her and a groan from him.

  The only way to stop this madness was to make love to her.

  So, he did.

  Slowly.

  With exquisite tenderness.

  Reassuring her in the most primal way possible that he was there. With her. Within her. Where he’d always be.

  “You belong to me, Rhiann. I’ll never leave you.”

  Before long, her agonizing sobs turned to whimpers of another sort. The kind that couldn’t co-exist with nightmares.

  “I love you,” she moaned over and over.

  “I love you, too,” he told her. “I’ve always loved you.”

  It took quite some time but eventually their loving lost its desperate edge and they settled into a deep, unhurried rhythm. He drew on every sense, gathering her sighs, his grunts, the hot, sultry slide of his flesh within hers, the taste of her fears . . . all of it and turned each of those sensations into a fucktacular coupling that left nothing by the wayside.

  No more words were necessary. They were totally in sync. Her hands remained clutched in his, her vibrant green eyes boring into his.

  He saw them flutter. Her mouth went slack and a deep moan rumbled from her core as her inner muscles contracted around his swollen flesh.