Wild Inside (Four Corners Book 2)

by Artemis Anders

  Wild Inside

  Four Corners Series, Book Two

  Artemis Anders

  Copyright © 2018 by Artemis Anders

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  Cover design by Angela Haddon Book Cover Design

  Also by Artemis Anders

  Four Corners series

  Afterglow (Teagan and Aaron)

  Wild Inside (Diana and Asher)

  Going the Distance (Hannah and Cain)

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  Chapter One

  Diana squinted in the bright afternoon sun as she left her office at Grand Valley Middle School. The August heat hit her hard. It was definitely worth taking the top down on her Jeep, especially since there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and she wouldn’t get soaked in a surprise afternoon thundershower.

  That had only happened once—okay, twice—but it was an experience she didn’t care to repeat.

  As she drove, the warm wind blowing her long hair, her phone rang. She smiled. It was Matthew, calling her as he always did after work.

  “Hi, sweetie,” she said.

  “Hey, baby. How’s the Grand Junction school system today?”

  “Oh, pretty calm. At least until school starts and the preteen angst and suffering begins.”

  Matthew laughed. “That’s the truth. Middle school was my childhood nightmare, and that’s saying a lot when you grow up in a hyper-religious family.”

  “Middle school was my nightmare too, believe me.”

  “You’re too beautiful to have had an awkward phase…”

  “That’s very sweet of you. But, you know, big boobs aren’t ideal at that age.”

  Matthew snickered. “I suppose not.”

  “How was surveying the city?”

  “The usual. Took some more data for that business route intersection on the west side of town. The one that gets so gridlocked.”

  “Oh, that is a bad one. Nice.”

  Matthew was an engineer for the city of Grand Junction. He fit a lot of the stereotypes about engineers—he was smart, stable, and could fix anything. He wasn’t especially adventurous, especially compared to her, but Diana didn’t need adventure in a man. She needed trustworthy and family-oriented.

  “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” he asked. “The boys would love to see you. And if you make your famous lasagna, I will make it worth your while, if you catch my drift.”

  Diana grinned. “Oh, will you? You have yourself a deal!”

  Diana loved when Matthew made sexy little comments like that. It was something he rarely did—he was more conservative that way—but occasionally he surprised her. Plus, it had been a while, and a little “worth her while” was exactly what she needed.

  That evening, out of her stuffy suit and changed into a sundress and sandals, Diana stood in Matthew’s kitchen, layering a glass baking pan with lasagna noodles. Matt Jr., Matthew’s 11-year-old son, came over and hugged her.

  “You’re making lasagna!” he cried. “Yours is the best!”

  Diana blew him a kiss as she stirred her homemade meat sauce, which she made in huge batches and froze for later use. “Thank you, Mattie. How was your day?”

  He made a face. “I hate middle school.”

  She nodded. “Middle school is the pits. But I promise it will get better.”

  “I’m so glad you work at our school.”

  “Me too, sweetie.”

  Matt took off to join his 13-year-old brother, Cole, upstairs. Diana continued putting the lasagna together before sticking it in the oven. An hour later, the lasagna came out of the oven all warm and bubbly and the four of them sat down to eat. Afterward, Matthew helped Diana clean the kitchen, wiping up the baked-on splotches of sauce on the stove and countertop.

  When her relationship with Matthew progressed and she began cooking for him and his boys, Diana had encouraged the boys to help with prep and cleanup. However, Matthew had made it clear he didn’t want the boys helping with mundane duties like cooking or dishes, believing that their time was better spent doing homework or relaxing. Diana didn’t agree with that philosophy. To her, it was never too soon to teach children, especially boys, to contribute around the house. But Cole and Mattie were Matthew’s kids, not hers, and it was his job to decide how they would be raised. Diana wanted her own kids to raise, and always had. A big family had been her dream since she was old enough to have dreams—that, and to become a psychologist. She’d accomplished her career dream, but starting a family had eluded her, despite her best efforts.

  Later that evening, after the boys went to bed, Diana and Matthew headed up to his bedroom, with its plain khaki bedspread and traditional oak furniture. No art, no adornments or personal touches… purely practical and functional.

  “We need to doll up your bedroom,” Diana said.

  “When you move in, you can doll it up all you want,” Matthew said. “Just no flowers or pink, please.”

  Diana smiled. “I promise I won’t make it girly.”

  She’d met Matthew a year and a half ago, at a school holiday party. He was everything she wanted and, most importantly, he wanted the things she wanted most—to get married and have kids. Sure, Matthew had already done all that once, but he’d made it clear he was more than willing to remarry when the right time came. And, he was open to having more children. “I want you in my life,” he’d told her. “I’ll have more kids if it means getting to be with you.”

  Matthew came up behind her and kissed her neck. “I still owe you for the lasagna,” he murmured in her ear. “I said I’d make it worth your while…”

  Diana sighed, her body beginning to heat up. “I remember.”

  She’d thought about it all day. She wanted to feel his hands on her, for him to unleash the passion she knew he was capable of, the passion that his ultra-religious upbringing had made difficult for him to express. She had a feeling tonight would be different, that he’d come a long way and would be willing to try something a little… wild. Not tie-her-up-and-whip-her wild, but maybe a racier position or Matthew gently tugging on her hair.

  Matthew kissed her, and as things got more heated, he yanked at her clothing. Soon, they were in bed, Matthew on top of her and kissing her, Diana growing more aroused by the moment. But then Matthew hesitated. She didn’t know why at first… and then she did.

  She didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel his hardness pressing against her, demonstrating its need and promising to fulfill hers.

  Matthew’s breathing became quiet, and his kisses hesitant. It was like someone had taken his sexual heat and doused it with ice water. Diana, burning hot with need, pretended she didn’t notice his struggle, not wanting to place more pressure on him, knowing that wouldn’t help matters.

  Matthew rallied on, kissing her neck as she caressed him and voiced her pleasure. However, Matthew finally gave up and rolled off her.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  Diana put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  Matthew lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “I was so looking forward to this.”

  So was she. But she didn’t say so. She didn’t want to make him feel worse.

  Instead, she rolled onto her side. “Matthew, I know you don’t love the idea, but I really think talking to someone about this would help you.” He rolled his eyes. “Hear me out. Growing up, you were ta
ught that sex was dirty. It makes sense that this would happen once in a while.” It was more than once in a while, but Diana knew not to say that. “I get it. I come from a very religious background too, and I’ve had to work through a few things—”

  “I don’t need a damned shrink,” he snapped. “Ancient man didn’t have shrinks.”

  “Ancient man didn’t have a full-time job, two children to raise, a mortgage, or religious zealot parents who taught them that masturbation was a sin that would send them to burn in hell for the rest of eternity, either,” Diana retorted, using the authoritative tone she took when others disrespected the therapeutic process.

  “No offense,” Matthew said. “I know you’re a good therapist and you help a lot of kids. But a grown man talking to someone about his personal shit is lame. I’ve gotten past the religious crap I was raised with and I’ve moved on with my life. Sometimes the equipment doesn’t work. It happens to a lot of men.”

  “But—”

  “Just trust me, okay?”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  She wanted to trust him, but Diana had heard similar speeches before. It didn’t take her PhD in psychology to see that Matthew’s upbringing still affected him, especially in the bedroom. Sure, most men struggled to get it up at some point in their lives. But that was usually due to alcohol, signifiant emotional distress, or advanced age. Matthew was only thirty-five. For well over a decade, he was married to a woman who rarely wanted sex. It had been frustrating for him, but it had also allowed him to avoid his own sexual issues, which came out once he and Diana got close. He’d made progress during the time they’d been together, but lately he’d gotten stuck somehow.

  Matthew reached for the remote and turned on the television. Diana pulled the sheet over her as they watched Jimmy Kimmel, her raging sexual arousal taking longer than it should to settle down.

  The next morning, Diana got up early, kissed Matthew goodbye, and went home to pack. She was going to Red Rim Valley, a town in eastern Utah, only 90 minutes away. Red Rim was known for its gorgeous red sandstone cliffs and its proximity to two national parks, and people came from all over the world to visit during certain times of year. Red Rim was also home to her friend Mel, not to mention a mecca of mountain biking trails, and both called to Diana. And she could use a weekend away.

  She’d talked to Mel earlier that week and they had a whole weekend planned. They would ride Saturday and get pedicures afterward. Sunday, they’d ride again and then have lunch and hang out before Mel went to work and Diana headed home.

  She hummed a happy tune as she showered and gathered her gear. August meant it would be hot as hell in Red Rim, but that meant fewer crowds clogging up the trails. And Diana was willing to trade some profuse sweat for rookie-free trails.

  Matthew didn’t bike, preferring to convey himself using “his own two feet.” Diana always found that surprising, since bikes were nothing but mechanical devices and Matthew loved anything mechanical. But outdoor sports weren’t part of his upbringing, despite being raised in western Colorado, an outdoorsy person’s paradise.

  Sometimes Matthew complained when she went camping or biking for the weekend without him, afraid that some other man would “steal her away.” No amount of devotion on her part seemed to help. But she knew his insecurity resulted from his skewed upbringing, and she’d learned to present her trips to Red Rim and other places as “girl time,” which put him at ease. However, this time, Matthew offered no argument at all.

  Diana loaded her equipment into her Jeep and secured her bike to its rear rack. She got on the road after texting Mel with her ETA. She got no response. Mel was probably sleeping in after her Friday night shift at the brewery.

  The drive from western Colorado into Utah was one of Diana’s favorites. For a while, it was high desert with tall cliffs on one side and a giant, green-treed mesa on the other. Then, once across the state border and on the highway into Red Rim Valley, the scenery changed into a whole different kind of beautiful. She drove along the Colorado River, giant rusty-red canyon walls on either side of her, carved by the river over millions of years. That stretch of road represented one of her favorite things in life: getting on her mountain bike and exploring the trails with good friends, although any fellow biker would do. Diana hated biking alone—it wasn’t as fun, and it could be downright dangerous if you crashed or encountered a disgruntled wild animal.

  Ninety minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot at Mel’s apartment building in Red Rim Valley. She still hadn’t heard from Mel, which made her wonder if Mel had forgotten she was coming, or had drunk one too many beers after her shift last night. She climbed the stairs to the second floor of the building and knocked. After what seemed a long time, the door finally opened.

  Mel stood there, a blanket wrapped around her and her dark hair tangled in knots. She had a scowl on her face. “Hey, girl.” She stepped aside to let Diana in.

  Diana giggled. “Late night?”

  “I’m sick.”

  Diana’s smile disappeared. “Oh no.”

  “I woke up feeling tired and my throat felt a little sore, and I thought if I went back to sleep it would get better… but now I feel like river sludge.” Mel slumped onto the couch and curled up.

  “Just a cold?” Diana said, feeling Mel’s forehead.

  “Probably. I’m so sorry, D. If I’d known, I’d have told you not to come.”

  “That’s okay, sweetie. I’ll stay and take good care of you.”

  And she would. Mel was her friend and she took care of her friends. But disappointment coursed through her. She’d so looked forward to riding, and she didn’t know anyone else in Red Rim.

  “No… no…” Mel shook her head. “Go biking. It’s not even supposed to be that hot today. I’m just going to sleep anyway.”

  “You know I won’t bike alone, especially on trails I don’t know well…”

  “Go with the Red Rim group. They’re cool, I promise. They’re meeting at the Elijah Canyon trailhead at eleven, so hurry.”

  Diana hesitated, feeling guilty about leaving Mel alone for even a few hours. But before she could argue, Mel had shut her eyes and fallen asleep.

  Chapter Two

  Diana got into her biking gear and gathered everything she needed as quickly as she could before driving to the trailhead. She was cutting it close, timewise. She hated to be late, especially since these people had no idea who she was and wouldn’t be expecting her. When she arrived, she saw four fit-looking cyclists standing near their bikes and talking. That had to be them.

  Mostly guys, of course. There were many badass female mountain bikers, especially in Red Rim, but the sport still attracted mostly men. She spotted one woman among them, thank goodness. Diana didn’t mind riding with men, but it was awkward to join a new group when she was the only woman. When she rolled up to them, they looked at her with puzzled expressions.

  “Hi, everyone,” she said, pulling her dark hair into a ponytail. “I’m a friend of Mel’s. She sent me here and said I could ride with you all. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Where’s Mel?” the lean, auburn-haired woman said.

  “She’s sick. I came out here from Junction to spend the weekend with her, but some cold virus is kicking the shit out of her right now.”

  They chuckled at that.

  “Poor Mel,” the woman said. “Summer colds are the worst.”

  “Right?” Diana said, laughing.

  One of the guys eyed her. “How long have you been riding?”

  Diana knew what he was really asking. He wanted to find out her skill level and make sure she wouldn’t slow them down. “As long as Mel. But I’m not as used to riding slickrock, and I haven’t ridden this trail before, so I’ll stay in back.”

  “You’re welcome to tag along,” the fit woman said. “I’m Annie, by the way.” She held out her hand and Diana shook it. “This is Diego.” She motioned to the dark, stocky guy next to her, the one who’d asked her how long she�
�d been riding.

  “Good to meet you,” he said, looking at her like he wasn’t entirely convinced she could keep up.

  Diana turned to the next guy, a 20-something fair-haired lad who barely made eye contact with her before his eyes traveled down to her breasts and lingered a couple moments too long. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. It was an uphill battle with some men, as if they hadn’t seen big boobs before, and now wasn’t the time to make a sarcastic quip. “I’m J.T.,” he mumbled.

  When Diana went to greet the last of the foursome, she hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of the man who stood before her, watching her. His skin was bronzed, his body lean and fit, his bare arms covered in tattoos, and his wild shoulder-length curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. Golden brown eyes studied her, a gleam of something in them, something she didn’t understand.

  Diana did an inner “holy shit.” He looked like a Greek god. Or what she imagined a Greek god would look like if someone sculpted him, put him in cycling clothes, and set him only two feet from her.

  And from the way he looked at her, he knew it. He gazed briefly up and down her body, thankfully more quickly than J.T. had, and then produced a dazzling smile. “I’m Asher. What’s your name?”

  Diana felt her face heat up, glad she was olive-skinned enough to avoid turning bright red. “Oh, right. I’m Diana. Good to meet you.” She reached out to shake the hand that Bronzed God held out, the feel of his firm grip sending a tiny shockwave through her.

  What the hell was the matter with her? She knew his type. Good-looking, athletic, and crazy confident, like he reveled in his own hotness and the effect it had on women. A player. Possibly even a bad boy, with those tattoos. In other words, he was trouble. Since when did she find that attractive?

  “Let’s get going,” Annie said, snapping Diana out of her reverie. “I have to be back by three at the latest.”