Wilde Novellas

by Janelle Dennison

  He turned back around, his expression a mixture of incredulity and anger. Her traitorous gaze was once again drawn to the scar on his hip that now disappeared into the waistband of his briefs. His entire body vibrated with aggression, like a high voltage wire just waiting to snap.

  Slowly, she reached out and glided the pad of her finger along the beginning of the scar. He flinched, and before she could trace the length, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away, but didn't let her go.

  "Don't. "A muscle in his cheek ticked, and he pressed his thumb against the rapid beat of the pulse in her wrist.

  She frowned, wondering if the injury still caused him pain. "Does it still hurt?"

  "You make me hurt," he said huskily, and released her hand. "And if you touch me again, if you stay, then consider yourself touched in return. "

  The threat was inherently sexual, and wholly exciting. This time, Chayse knew exactly what was in store for her and was prepared to accept the consequences of her actions. Holding his gaze, she brazenly stroked her fingers along the scar, blatantly touching him. Daring him. "Then do it, because I'm not leaving until I get what I came here for. "

  In a lightning quick move, he lunged at her, buried his fingers in her hair, and pressed her up against the refrigerator with his hard, undeniably aroused body. With a low growl encompassing both frustration and urgent need, he slanted his mouth across hers and sank his tongue deep, kissing her just as recklessly as he had the night before. His mouth promised sin and unrestrained, carnal pleasure, and she matched him stroke for stroke, chasing his tongue with her own, letting him know that she was with him all the way.

  The feverish intensity between them was sizzling hot, the strength and immediacy of her arousal making her knees weak. She slid her arms around his waist and skimmed her hands down to cup his buttocks through soft, worn denim. The muscles tightened under her palms, and the long, hard length of him pushed insistently against the crux of her thighs. She felt the bite of his belt buckle against her hip, but she was too swamped with the desire and need coiling tighter and tighter within her to care about the minor discomfort.

  With his lips still devouring her mouth with aggressive, utterly devastating kisses, he shoved the hem of her tank top up impatiently, baring her naked breasts to the cool air in the cabin. She shivered and moaned as his big, warm hands closed over her breasts, rubbing and massaging the small mounds of flesh, then rolled her hard, sensitive nipples between his fingers.

  He broke their kiss, lowered his head, and closed his mouth over her taut, aching breast. He laved her nipple with his tongue before nipping with his teeth, then sucked her strong and deep, until she felt that same seductive, pulling sensation in the pit of her belly. An electric jolt zapped through her, exploding in heated ripples that thrummed across her nerve endings.

  Her skin tingled everywhere, hot and alive with sensation. She twined her fingers in his soft, thick hair, feeling breathless and dizzy and unable to do anything but hold on, let him have his way with her body, and give in to the four months of wild, pent-up passion between them.

  He wedged his foot between hers, widening her stance. One hand left her breast and slid down her ribs to her belly. Reaching the waistband of her shorts, he unraveled the tie with a quick yank, loosened the drawstring, and let her shorts drop to the floor.

  She sucked in a quick breath, and her heart raced in anticipation as his hand slid between her thighs and his mouth returned to hers, hot and hungry and demanding, allowing her no escape. His fingers skimmed along the leg opening of her panties, and then they were edging under it, delving through damp curls and gliding along the soft, swollen lips of her sex. A blunt finger slipped easily into her, followed by a second that seemed too much to take all at once. She whimpered into his mouth and stiffened, but then his thumb pressed against her cleft, right where she needed his touch the most, both soothing and arousing her at the same time.

  As soon as she relaxed, he pushed deeper, filling her, and her inner muscles clamped tight around his fingers, resisting the invasion. Her head rolled back against the wall, and she panted for air, wondering how she was going to be able to take all of him when the time came.

  His big body shuddered, and he buried his face against her neck, his ragged breath hot and damp against her skin. "You are so fucking tight, so hot and wet," he rasped in her ear. "I want inside you. "

  Wanting that just as much, she gave him her answer. "Yes. "

  He withdrew his fingers, and she actually mourned the loss until he slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her off her feet. As if they'd done this a dozen times before, she automatically entwined her arms around his neck, locked her ankles at the base of his spine, and held on tight as he carried her toward the bedroom.

  Once inside, he dropped her on the soft comforter covering the bed, the light in his eyes possessive and bright with lust as he dragged her panties off, nearly ripping them in his haste to get her naked. He left her tank top bunched above her bared breasts, and with quick, urgent movements he shoved his own briefs and jeans down to his thighs, freeing his full, thick erection. Before she could look her fill, he was pushing her legs wide apart, and his dark head dipped down. The feel of his hot, damp mouth on her inner thigh shocked her, along with the scrape of his teeth and the swirl of his tongue as he burned a sensuous path up to the pulsing, aching core of her.

  She moaned as he licked her clit in a hot, searing stroke. Seemingly ruthless in his quest to make her come, he closed his warm, wet mouth over her and plunged his tongue deep. The pleasure was sharp and riveting and stole her breath. A low throbbing began in her belly, then spiraled down to her sex, and she grabbed handfuls of his hair, wanting more, needing more…

  The sleek, gliding pressure of his thumbs caressing her soft lips and stroking her rhythmically, combined with his wicked tongue working its own seductive magic, was the most erotic sensation she'd ever experienced. Unable to hold back, she let out a cry and arched sinuously against his mouth as she came in a burning wave that shook her entire body.

  Without giving her a chance to fully recover from her orgasm, he moved up over her, the slide of his muscled body against hers making her pulse leap higher and faster. She reached down to touch him, and when her fingers fluttered over the broad velvet head of his shaft, he sucked in a hissing breath. Grasping both of her wrists, he pulled her arms up and pinned them above her head, giving him complete control of the situation.

  He settled more fully on top of her, his thighs forcing hers farther apart, and then he was pressing his erection intimately against her, nudging his way in, stretching her, setting her body on fire. She caught a glimpse of his dark, fierce expression before he crushed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, passionately. She tasted herself on his lips, on his tongue, just as he buried his shaft to the hilt in her slick heat, possessing her completely.

  Their moans mingled, and once he began to move, there was no stopping him, and she instinctively knew there wasn't going to be anything slow or gentle about this first joining. No, judging by the sexual energy and potent heat radiating off him, she prepared herself for a fast, hard, unrestrained ride.

  And that was exactly what he gave her. He plunged into her, fast and deep and strong, a rich, seductive rhythm that pulsed as vitally as her heartbeat. His hips ground against hers with each driving, impaling thrust until she felt him go rigid and his lower body arched into her high and hard, pushing her up and over yet another crest. She came again in a blinding climax of intoxicating speed and delirious sensation.

  This time, so did he. A low growl erupted from his chest and vibrated against her lips as his body jerked violently against hers and he finally succumbed to his own blistering orgasm.

  More reluctantly that he cared to acknowledge, Adrian withdrew from Chayse's warm, soft body, rolled to his back beside her, and slung his forearm over his eyes, wondering if he'd ever be the same again. His lungs felt tight, his breathing choppy, as though he'd run a marathon.
Blood pounded in his temples and his heart raced a mile a minute. He felt completely drained and totally wasted—four months of frustration and desire and lust finally spent on the one woman he'd craved for just as long.

  What the hell had he been thinking to carry her into the bedroom, pin her to the mattress, and take her like some wild man? Problem was, he hadn't been thinking, at least not with the head on his shoulders. No, he'd been so caught up in Chayse, the scent that was uniquely hers, the softness of her skin beneath his hands, the taste of her on his tongue, and the gripping need to drive inside her and make her his. At that moment, nothing else had mattered.

  Never had a woman affected him on such a primitive, I-need-to-get-inside-you-now level, but Chayse had that effect on him since day one, and he'd supposed it was just a matter of the right time and opportunity before they acted on their mutual attraction. Their confrontation in the kitchen had provided such an opportunity, and when she'd made the mistake of challenging him, then boldly caressed the scars he'd bared to make her back off and leave, that was all it had taken for him to unleash the fiery hunger smoldering beneath the surface of his anger.

  As the cool air in the cabin rushed over his heated skin and half-naked body, a stunning realization hit him like a sucker punch to the stomach. Holy shit. He'd taken Chayse without protection, which said a helluva lot for his state of mind since wearing a condom during sex was a hard-and-fast rule for him. There had even been times he'd refused because he hadn't had one on hand.

  Not so today. And it was an issue he couldn't ignore, for either of their sakes.

  He came up on his side and gazed down at her, still lying where he'd left her minutes before, looking just as wiped out as he'd been. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were still above her head where he'd anchored them, her shirt still bunched high on her chest. Her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath, her nipples tight and just as flushed as the rest of her naked body.

  She looked… beautiful, and he wanted to touch her, caress her soft, warm cheek with the back of his knuckles and smooth her disheveled hair away from her face. That bit of tenderness weaving through his system startled him, and he dismissed the thoughts filtering in his mind before he followed through on them.

  He wondered if she was sleeping, or if maybe he'd been too rough with her, too demanding, and she was trying to recover. Lord knew he'd taken her with little finesse and a whole lot of sexual aggression, and that knowledge sparked a bit of worry.

  "Chayse?" He murmured it gently, and did what he'd sworn he wouldn't do again—he touched her, trailing his ringers over the slope of her shoulder and down her arm. "You okay?"

  She turned her head his way, and her lashes fluttered open. And when a sated, sexy smile curved her lips, it was all he could do not to pull her beneath him again for another round.

  "I'm okay," she said huskily, and finally pulled her tank top back down over her pert breasts—not out of modesty, but because he suspected she was chilled without his body heat to warm her.

  "Look…" He drew a deep breath before saying, "I didn't use protection. "

  As if moving in slow motion, she sat up, reached for her panties, and pulled them up her legs and over her bottom. "Don't worry," she reassured him. "I'm on the Pill. "

  He nodded, extremely grateful for small favors. "Oh, good. "

  She glanced at him and combed her hair away from her face with her fingers. "My doctor put me on it almost a year ago for medical reasons… and you're the first person I've been with since then. "

  She obviously wanted him to know that she didn't do this kind of thing often, and that notion pleased him more than he wanted to admit. Moving to his side of the bed, he stood up and pulled his briefs and jeans back up, feeling compelled to reassure her, too. "I want you to know I'm clean, so no worries there, either. "

  "Me, too. "

  He nodded curtly, suddenly feeling awkward and uncertain with her—another first that confounded him when he was so used to emotionless encounters. And damn if he hadn't felt something when he'd been deep inside of her. More than sex and pleasure, she'd not only touched his scars, but managed to touch his soul, as well. And it had been a very long time since he'd let any woman that close.

  "You can use the bathroom in here," he said, pointing to the adjoining door, desperate to escape to the great outdoors and breathe clear, clean air into his lungs instead of the mingled scents of sex and Chayse. "I'll use the one in the other room. "

  With that, he left her alone, certain after the way he'd treated her she'd get dressed and hightail it out of there and head back to the city where she belonged. The thought should have relieved him, but instead left him with a hollow feeling in his chest.

  Chapter Three

  Chayse gave Adrian a half hour on his own before deciding it was time for her to fight for her cause yet again. She refused to let him withdraw from her, and she still wasn't taking no for an answer. Nor would she allow him to berate himself for what had just transpired between them. It had been a long time in coming, and so worth the wait.

  She harbored no regrets, except for the fact that he'd bolted so quickly afterward, leaving her feeling much too alone. And that realization startled her, because she'd been on her own for a long time now and was used to being alone.

  Having changed into a pair of jeans, a baby doll T-shirt sans a bra, and sneakers, she stuffed her shorts, tank top, and sandals into her duffle, her insides still recovering from their very tempestuous joining. And her outsides, for that matter, as well, she thought with a private smile. Her skin felt hypersensitive, her breasts swollen and tender, and her sex still tingled from two of the most incredible, earth-shattering climaxes she'd ever had the pleasure of enjoying. The man had easily discovered her sweetest spots, and had used that intimacy to his advantage, and hers.

  Grabbing her camera and making sure it was loaded with a full roll of film, she headed outside and followed the steady and loud thwack, thwack, thwack sound coming from the side of the cabin. She rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks, momentarily mesmerized at the breathtaking sight that greeted her.

  Adrian was chopping wood, his back facing her as he set a thick log on the base of a large tree stump, and with a very accurate, downward swing of his axe he split the limb in two. He tossed the chunks of wood into a growing pile next to the cabin, then he repeated the process all over again.

  He was still shirtless, and the sun glinted off his tanned, muscled shoulders and back, and made the fine sheen of perspiration on his upper body shimmer with every move he made. His rakishly long hair was mussed from their earlier romp, and the ends curled damply around the nape of his neck. He was sex and sin personified, the complete embodiment of a gorgeous, earthy male in his element.

  She couldn't have set him up with better props if she tried, or a more perfect backdrop than the craggy rocks, trees, and trails behind him. Lifting the camera, she began taking pictures. This was the real outdoor man she wanted to capture on film—no pretenses, no stiff pose or fabricated smile for the camera. Just a man at one with nature, a man who enjoyed the sun and the earth and hard, physical labor.

  He didn't acknowledge her, even though she knew he must have heard her behind him, gliding closer, the click of her camera, the whir of film advancing. She moved to the side, focusing on a profile shot which would eliminate the red, puckered scars on his back that seemed to make him so self-conscious. Instead, she concentrated on his muscled arms, his defined chest and lean belly, and the way those jeans of his rode low on his hips.

  She took in his dark hair that fell over his brow, the chiseled cut of his jaw, and the beautiful mouth that had given her such incredible pleasure. In time, she hoped those lips would curve into one of his trademark Wilde grins, which she'd been lucky enough to glimpse the first time she'd met him. Before he'd realized she wanted him for her calendar project.

  She hadn't seen that sexy smile since.

  As she continued taking pictures, she read his body lan
guage and those subtle nuances she picked up behind the camera, and knew there wasn't much anger left in him. He was releasing a whole lot of frustrated energy, yes, but there was a resignation about him that bolstered her confidence and gave her hope that she had his cooperation from here on.

  He stopped chopping wood and finally glanced her way as she snapped another picture. He said nothing, another good indication that he wasn't going to order her away yet again. Not that she'd go. He watched her, his seductive blue eyes intense and searching, as if he was trying to figure her out, who she was beyond the woman with the camera, what drove her… and what was she hiding from?

  In that moment, she felt a sudden shift between them. Her pulse leapt, and she realized she didn't like being on the receiving end of such an analytic stare. For as much as she liked observing and scrutinizing a person's personality and actions from behind her camera, she'd also used that same camera as a shield to her own emotions and soul-deep pain.

  She'd always felt safe behind her lens, always peeking in on other people's lives and feelings, but keeping her own hidden away. She'd never felt threatened that someone might realize her ploy, and that Adrian might have that ability made her feel too vulnerable. Because while his scars were on the outside in plain sight, hers were in-side, buried deep, and she had no desire to allow anyone close enough to unearth them. As a result, her relationships had always been short-lived, with her ending things before they got too serious. Before she gave her heart and opened herself up to the possible loss and rejection she swore she'd never again subject herself to.

  She realized Adrian had that power, and it was a realization that shook her to the very core of her being.

  Finally, he spoke, and she was grateful for the reprieve from her unsettling thoughts. "I'm sorry for what happened in there," he said, his tone low and sincere, his gaze still watching her.