Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1)

by Skye Jordan

  She bit her way down his neck, and tingles spread across his skin, but at the same time she murmured breathless attempts at logic. “We can’t keep doing this. Too complicated. If anyone finds out . . .”

  He pushed his door open, covered her mouth with his, and let his tongue talk her out of leaving. By the time they were inside, she had her legs wrapped at his hips, one hand deep in his hair, the other working his belt open.

  The thrill of winning her over spread through him like fire. He kicked the door closed, and Delaney pulled out of the kiss, breathless, both hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. Turning a circle, he searched for the closest horizontal surface. But his kitchen was a mess, his sofa was covered with laundry, and his dining room table was strewn with paperwork.

  Then her mouth found his again, licking and biting and sucking, while her hands worked on his shirt, and his desperation mounted.

  “This is the last time,” she murmured between kisses. “Not happening again.”

  Fuck that. He turned a half circle and rested her butt on a wide, deep windowsill. Her thighs opened, and she pulled him between her legs.

  Ethan grabbed her wrists and held them still. Her eyes lifted to his, floating with questions.

  “What if I don’t want this to be the last time?” he asked even while a small part of his brain screamed, What are you thinking?

  “Ethan.” His name came out as part reprimand, part where-the-hell-did-that-come-from?

  “We have something, and it’s not going away.”

  “Neither of us wants anything more than this. I’m not staying. Regardless of what I decide to do with the bar.”

  “Whatever this is will burn itself out by then, right? There’s no point in making ourselves miserable when we both want each other.”

  “Yes, there is.” The sexual haze cleared from her eyes. “There’s a definite point, and it’s called keeping your job, keeping peace with your family, holding on to the respect you’ve built here.”

  Something stirred deep in his heart. Something he’d never felt before. Something he couldn’t ignore, couldn’t just will away.

  He cupped her face with both hands and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “You’ve always been the caretaker. A lot of years with no mom, an alcoholic dad, and two younger sisters. You’ve always taken care of everyone else, haven’t you? The way you’re trying to take care of me now.”

  Surprise flashed in her eyes before her gaze fell away and she shook her head. She pulled her hands from his shirt and pressed them against the ledge. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Maybe you should just admit how much you like me.”

  She huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe you should just admit how much you want me.” He tipped her head back, looked directly into her eyes. “Maybe we should both just admit that we care about each other. That for however long we’re in this, it’s happening because there’s more between us than a physical need to hook up.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to care.”

  “I know you better than you think. I know the girl you tried to hide from everyone back in high school. And I still see her in you now.”

  She laughed as if the idea were ludicrous. “I didn’t try to—”

  “Wildwood Vineyards Convalescent Home.”

  Her smile froze, then fell in confusion. “What?”

  “You were there doing community service work for an underage drinking charge.”

  “How did you—”

  “Because I was there at the same time doing the last of my community service work to earn my Eagle Scout.”

  “You really were a Boy Scout?”

  He grinned. “And I watched you with those old people. People who never judged you. People who loved your company, appreciated your time, and thrived on your attention. You stayed longer than you had to. You went in on days you weren’t scheduled. You continued going even after your sentence had ended.

  “You loved those people, and they loved you. You listened to their stories and laughed with them. You played games with them and read to them. You brushed their hair and painted their nails. Even when you weren’t there, they talked about you.

  “Outside the home, you might have been the town bad girl, doing everything you shouldn’t. But you also managed to get your sisters to school and keep your father’s bar running when he was laid out drunk.”

  She started to shake her head again.

  “I read the police report, Delaney. I know your father was passed out behind the bar when Ian was killed. I also heard after the incident that was a regular occurrence. What I can’t figure out is how in God’s name Phoebe let you work the bar alone.”

  Delaney’s gaze lowered to his chest again. “She didn’t know. I told her I was staying the night with a friend. She wouldn’t have let me, and I knew we needed the money.”

  He sighed and kissed her forehead again. Then her lips. “So I do know you enough to care. If we have to keep things between us a secret, fine. I’ll do what I have to do to get these stolen moments with you, because I don’t want this to be the last time.”

  Her eyes scanned his face, her expression a mix of longing and concern. Maybe some fear. She scraped her lower lip between her teeth, lifted her hands to his shirt, and curled it into her fingers. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. It . . . scares me.”

  His chest filled with excitement, with happiness, with so many emotions that they pushed the air from his lungs. He kissed her hard and deep. Tasted her until her fingers were clenched in his hair, holding his head down.

  And just like that, the fire between them flared back to life, fueled with a new understanding and new emotions.

  He slid his hands up her thighs and let his fingers drift between her legs. Hooking his fingers in her panties, he shimmied them down and let them drop, then moved his hands up her thighs again. But this time he pushed her skirt up, too, revealing her gorgeous thighs and, finally, that pretty bare pussy he craved. The thrill this woman could whip through him without even trying was absurd.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, letting his hand slide between her thighs and cup her sex.

  Delaney’s breath quickened, and her body stiffened. The look she gave him made her seem innocent. One of those God-that’s-naughty-but-it-feels-so-good looks that made Ethan want to eat her alive.

  “Like that?”

  She smiled, one of those naughty smiles, with her lip still between her teeth.

  His own lips turned to match her grin. “Spread your legs, naughty girl. I want to touch you.”

  With her gaze holding his, her thighs opened into a wide V, pushing her forward on the ledge, and giving Ethan full access.

  “Mmm, perfect.” He stroked his fingers through her hot, wet folds, let them drift farther back and over the tight pucker. Her nipples turned to hard peaks beneath her dress. Ethan’s cock pulsed with heat.

  He tipped her chin up, kissed her gently, brought her tongue out to play without the kiss while he swirled his fingers in her slick heat. She moaned and arched for more, but he pulled back and focused on the buttons on her dress, slipping the six of them open, one by one.

  “Did you think about me the last few days?” he asked, plunging his index finger deep to tease the walls of her sex.

  “Yes.” One of her hands gripped the sill at her hip, the other was clenched in his shirt at his ribs.

  He added his middle finger and pushed deeper. Her eyes closed, lips parted, back arched. “Oh . . .”

  “Did you think about this?” He soaked in the sight of moonlight accentuating the pleasure drenching her face. Wished he could save the moment somehow. “About me touching you, kissing you? About me inside you?”

  With her head against the glass, she opened her eyes. “Yes.”

  Ethan leaned in and kissed her, whispering against her lips, “Did you miss me?”

  He didn’t expect to get an answer, but she surprised him by murmuring a soft, �
�Yes.”

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes. They were clear, vibrant, hot. And honest.

  She’d missed him? Or she’d missed fucking him?

  He wasn’t venturing there.

  “Because I think about you all the time. About how wet you get for me. How I glide inside you. How tight you grip me. I think about how you smell right here.” He tilted his head and pressed his face to the hollow between her jaw and her neck and opened his mouth against her skin. He kissed his way down one side of her neck, then back up the other, continuing his whispers. “I think about how your skin tastes. How your pussy tastes. How you feel against my tongue, all plump and soft and juicy.”

  “God . . .” A shiver coursed through her small frame, and her thighs spread wider.

  Ethan repositioned the hand between her legs so that with each thrust, his thumb rubbed her clit and his ring finger brushed her backside, pushing her toward the peak with methodically steady strokes.

  Delaney moaned and writhed with the new friction. She released his shirt and gripped the sill with both hands, trying to leverage herself into the thrust.

  “Relax, baby.” He cupped her breast still covered in the soft, thin fabric, and caressed, massaged, and pinched her nipple. She arched into his hand. “I’ll give you everything you want.” He brushed the strap off her shoulder and pulled a corner of the dress down to expose her breast, which he cupped, brushing the nipple with his thumb. “You just have to let go and enjoy.”

  He lowered his head and covered her breast with his mouth. And since he knew she was so needy, he skipped the soft foreplay and bit down—hard enough to make her take notice, but not hard enough to hurt her. She gasped, and one hand grabbed a handful of his hair. But her hips continued to rock to the rhythm of his thrust, and she wasn’t pulling away as he licked and sucked to soothe the area he’d bitten. In fact, another shiver racked her body, and she lowered her head to his with a whispered, “Don’t stop. So good.”

  The fire inside his body flared. His thrusts grew harder, his passes over her clit and her anus more deliberate and drawn out, his assault on her nipple harsher.

  And she thrived on it. Her fingers opened and closed in his hair, creating a thrilling burn along his scalp. Her body writhed and shivered, growing as taut as a wire, her sounds of pleasure audible aphrodisiacs.

  She cupped his face, turned his head, and took his mouth in fervent, wet, erotic kisses that amped his fire, while her other hand found its way inside his pants and stroked his cock beneath the thin cotton boxers.

  She broke their kiss, pressed her temple to his. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Jesus . . . so good. Ah . . .”

  Her pussy clamped down on Ethan’s fingers, and he shook his hand hard, rocking her whole pelvis and drawing a short scream of ecstasy.

  Ethan basked in the silent moments of her aftermath—her heavy, quick breaths, the quick beat of her heart, the way she leaned on him with abandon. But he breathed deep of her musky, thrilling scent of arousal and couldn’t keep his fire banked for long.

  As soon as her grip on him eased, Ethan pulled back. Delaney’s face was flushed and sated, her eyes heavy-lidded, her body lax. Her sex was full and plump, glistening and gorgeous.

  And Ethan was starving.

  He dropped straight to his knees.

  Delaney gasped. “Eth—”

  He scooped his arms beneath her thighs, pulled them wide, and covered her with his mouth. A high-pitched sound vibrated in her throat.

  He licked her soft skin, sucked at her, lapped up the excitement he’d just created, loving the way having her bare gave him such intimate access.

  “Oh my God.” Her hand slid around his head, pulling him in as she spread her thighs wider. “Mmm . . . So good . . .”

  Ethan opened his eyes and looked up at her. She looked gorgeous in the shadows, body tense, head dropped to the side, hair spilling everywhere, her other hand gripping the edge of the wooden ledge beneath her.

  He pulled back and drew her thighs over his shoulders to free his hands. With one hand, he parted her folds to expose her plump clit. With the other, he stroked her opening, teasing her with shallow thrusts.

  She mewled and lifted her hips.

  He licked at her fully exposed clit, so swollen and sweet.

  “Ethan,” she begged.

  Oh, the rush. The woman gave him an honest to God head rush. The whole light-headed-dizzy-blurred-vision package. And it only made him want to go that extra mile to give her all she was begging for.

  He pulled his mouth from her pussy and blew on her wet tissues. Her body sagged, and she dropped her head back against the glass with a sound of both pleasure and frustration. As her hand combed through his hair, Ethan flicked his tongue against her clit and slowly pushed two fingers deep into her heat. Deep, deep, deep. Delaney’s hands fisted in his hair, and her body tensed up again.

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  She brought her other hand to his head and tried her best to pull him into her pussy, which only made him wish he were in a position to roll her over and let her ride his mouth to orgasm. For now he’d have to bring the orgasm to her.

  His fingers slid over the swell inside her, and she caught her breath. God, he was so hungry. Hungry for her pleasure. Hungry for his own.

  He covered her pussy with his mouth and worked her from the inside out and the outside in. Licking and sucking softly, rubbing and flicking gently. Exciting her slowly, lifting her to a peak where she could see forever before he let her fly. And he lost himself in the erotic thrill of pleasuring her into a frenzy of writhing hips and tense, needy sounds.

  Ethan ate it up, every last rock of her hips, every last sip of her juice, until she was shivering on the edge of orgasm, and her big eyes looked down at him, heavy with need and lust. She uttered, “Please . . . Ethan. Need . . . it. Need . . .”

  And all it took to get her there was taking her clit between his lips and her G-spot beneath his fingers and giving her that final push.

  “Ah . . . ,” she cried out and bowed with the orgasm’s intense rush. One hand dropped back to the sill, giving her leverage to lift into him, and she rode out the rest of the climax against his mouth, where he continued to lick and suck and Delaney bucked and shivered through orgasm after orgasm after orgasm until he’d lost count.

  NINE

  Once the orgasms subsided, Delaney melted like butter, sliding right off the ledge and into Ethan’s lap, where she locked her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his skin.

  Something sweet and soft and completely foreign expanded inside her. Something beyond the simple satisfaction of sexual release. Something that created a sting in her chest and a burn in her eyes.

  And even as she caught her breath in his arms, she knew she was in trouble. Deep trouble. Because she didn’t just like him; she cared about him. Cared about him in a way she never allowed herself to care about men.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and jumped into denial to create a fence in front of the cliff directly in her heart’s path. She couldn’t fall for him. Absolutely couldn’t. This was sex. Off-the-charts, mind-blowing, religion-altering sex. But just sex.

  Her mind pivoted back in the right direction, and she kissed his throat. “I have no words.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and straightened, carrying her with him toward the stairs.

  When he took the first step without putting her down, she smiled and lifted her head. “I can walk.”

  “Nah, I missed my workout today.” He tilted his head and closed his mouth at the base of her neck. His teeth grazed her skin and shot tingles across her shoulders. She laughed and pulled back. He was smiling, his lids were heavy, and he looked . . . happy.

  Really happy.

  That odd pull tightened her chest again. She pushed off his shoulders and wiggled out of his arms. “Save your energy for the bedroom.”

  She started up the stairs, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. The bu
lge of his cock fit the curve of her ass. He swept her hair off her neck, kissing her there again. Delaney couldn’t keep herself from rocking against that substantial erection. Couldn’t keep her hands from reaching back to stroke him and do a little more work on his pants. He groaned, spread his hands over her belly, and let them roam up her body.

  “We’ll never make it to the bedroom,” he said against her neck, his voice low and lust-roughened, “if you don’t stop that.”

  She dropped her head back against his chest. “Bedrooms are overrated.”

  He made a sound in his throat and covered her mouth with his. God, she loved the way he kissed, his lips so lush, his tongue downright artistic. And when he nudged her up the stairs, she sighed and obeyed. His mouth roamed her neck and shoulder, his hands traveled underneath her skirt and stroked her ass, squeezed her cheeks, dipped in between . . .

  Her feet stumbled on the last step, and Delaney gripped the door frame to the bedroom as pleasure rolled through her pelvis. She couldn’t decide which she liked better between her legs—his mouth, his hands, or his cock. They were equally amazing in different ways.

  Ethan Hayes was quickly climbing her list as one of the best lovers of her lifetime.

  “Can’t wait to slide inside you,” he rasped against her skin.

  The thought of him filling her, stretching her, made her moan. She dropped her head against the door frame and rocked her hips back and into his hand. “Then don’t wait.”

  “Baby, if I had a condom on me, I’d already be inside you, making your nails carve patterns in my railing.”

  Oh, Christ. Her body responded to the vision his words created with a flood of heat through her pelvis, pooling between her legs where her sex opened like a flower, aching to take him in.

  On the landing, she turned and met his eyes with a suggestive smile. “We can always get one and go back. Stairs aren’t going anywhere.”

  He held her gaze as he lifted a hand to her jaw, slid it into her hair at the back of her neck, taking a possessive hold. “Neither is my bed. And if you like the stair idea, you’ll love what I have in mind.”

  The devilish heat in his eyes, the edge of naughty in his smile made everything inside her sizzle. This was exactly the kind of lustiness she needed to push the longing, the sweetness, the affection into the shadows.