Walk On The Wild Side

by Jami Alden

  He stepped outside into the cool night air and saw her, leaning up against the side of the building, arms wrapped around herself to ward off the chill.

  The glow of the lamplight turned her hair a warm gold and cast deep shadows on all the curves and hollows so perfectly displayed by the formfitting bridesmaids dress. The silky fabric clung in all the right places, making his hands itch to discover every rise and hollow.

  Not what you’re here for man. A point brought home when she looked up to see who’d joined her with eyes that were suspiciously wet.

  “Oh, hey,” said, sniffing as she straightened up and wiped delicately at her eyes. “Do they need me inside for something?” She started toward the door.

  Even though he knew he was entering dangerous territory, he caught her by the arm to halt her. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress. He allowed himself one stroke of his thumb before he dropped his hand. “I saw you leave. You looked upset.”

  She looked up at the sky and blinked hard. “Yeah.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “With you?” she cocked a finely arched brow.

  He shrugged. “I know you can’t talk to your mom or your sister, or even Sadie. Not tonight, anyway.”

  “So you’re generously offering me a shoulder to cry on?” she said.

  “If you need it.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I know it makes me pathetic, but when I came here tonight I was really hoping you’d offer something else.”

  “What do you mean?” he said through lips gone suddenly bone dry, even though he was pretty damn sure he knew where this was going.

  Please don’t say it. I can resist you if I can pretend the little touches and accidental brushes against me are just for show.

  “The way you used to be—before you left. The things you said—” She cut herself off with a little laugh. “God, I can’t even believe I’m admitting this out loud. Never mind,” she waved her hand. “I was just being stupid,” she said and went to move past him.

  Even though he knew the smartest thing to do would be to let her go, he hated the idea that he had done anything to add to her pain tonight. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Why would you feel stupid?”

  “Because I thought, you meant, you felt—look, I know it was just a joke. I know you never really wanted me.”

  What the fuck? Could she seriously have no idea how much restraint he’d had to muster to not jump the second he learned Josh was no longer in the picture? How fucking torturous it was not to react when she pressed those sweet, soft tits up against him on the dance floor or pressed her leg against his under the table last night at dinner.

  Christ, it had taken everything in him not to slide his hand up the inside of her thigh and show her what happened when she played with fire.

  In a split second his restraint snapped. He didn’t have time to think, but the next thing he knew he had her pinned up against the wall and her hand pressed to the rock hard column straining against the fly of his pants.

  “You feel that?” he said, pressing her palm more firmly against his cock, breath hitching as her fingers instinctively curved around it. “It’s been like that since I first laid eyes on you the other night.”

  Her sharp inhale echoed his and in the dim light he could make out the shocked expression on her face.

  “Christ, it’s been like that practically nonstop from the moment I met you.”

  She swallowed hard. “Then why aren’t you using it?” she whispered.

  Blood surged, his eyes squeezing shut as she stroked him through his clothes. He should stop, pull away. He didn’t want to start this way with her, he reminded himself. He didn’t want her to fall into bed with him when she was still hurting from how another man had treated her.

  But, God, she made it so damn hard. Made him so goddamn hard, to the point where just the feel of her hand through his clothes made him struggle not to come like some hormone drunk fifteen year old. “I’m trying to be a nice guy,” he gritted out. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, but couldn’t make himself pull her hand from him.

  “You think if I wanted nice,” she stood on her toes, so close he could feel the heat of her breath on his throat. “I would have set my sights on you?”

  Her other hand curled around his neck, and he groaned her lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along his throat. “I don’t need nice right now. I need—how did you put it? Someone to fuck me long and hard all night long.”

  He slammed his mouth down on hers, not only because he’d been craving the taste of it for nearly a year but because he was afraid if she kept talking he was going to go right over the edge.

  Her lips parted under his, her tongue stroking his like she was as starved for him as he was for her. God, she tasted like everything he’d ever dreamed of and more, sweet, spicy, more intoxicating than the world’s finest Scotch.

  His hand slid up her ribcage to cup one full breast, and he groaned into her mouth as he felt the hard press of her nipple against his palm. His thumb brushed across it and the little sound she made in her throat made his dick harden another inch.

  He reached down and jerked her hand from him, ignoring her sound of protest. “Too much,” he muttered against her mouth.

  Her hands slid beneath his jacket, up his chest, and around his back. Her palms seemed to burn him through the thin cotton of his shirt and he half wondered if he might spontaneously combust when he finally felt her hands on his bare skin.

  “Molly?” The sound of Adele’s voice was like a bucket of cold water thrown over his head. With instincts honed from years of avoiding detection by parents who would be appalled by their daughter’s choice of bed partner, Brady ducked around the corner out of sight.

  Shit. A few more minutes and she would have walked out and seen him taking her daughter up against a wall. So not how he imagined his first time with Molly. So not how she deserved to be treated.

  Lucky that Adele had interrupted him before it was too late. Lucky he had the chance to reset, remind himself of what he was risking by giving into temptation too soon.

  “What are you doing out here?” she said at her daughter’s continued silence.

  “I just came out to get some air,” Molly finally said with just the barest tremor in her voice.

  “Well, I’ve been looking all over for you. It’s time to cut the cake.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I’ll be right there.”

  He waited to hear the door close before he came back around the building and found Molly waiting for him, an expectant look on her face.

  One look at her kiss swollen mouth and heavy lidded blue eyes and all of his good intentions flew out the window.

  “Are you staying here tonight?”

  JT had made the ranch’s cabins and guest rooms available to the wedding guests so everyone could get as festive as they wanted and not have to worry about the drive home.

  She nodded. “In the Little Antlers cabin. It’s down by the creek.”

  “I’ll find it,” he said and stalked back into the hall, knowing that if he looked at her for even another second he was going to start kissing her, and to hell with the cake cutting.

  He made his way through the crowd, careful to keep his distance from Molly. For now anyway.

  She wanted the bad boy Brady, and tonight she was going to have him. And she could have him for as long as it took until she realized she wanted what he did.

  Everything.

  ###

  Molly muddled through the rest of the reception in a muddled haze. Though Brady didn’t get within five feet, she could feel his eyes tracking every move.

  Once Ellie and Damon took their leave, the party started to disperse. Some decided to continue the revelry in the Ranch’s bar at JT’s invitation.

  Molly, pleading she was tired, slipped away to her cabin to wait. The one room cabin was small but nicely furnished with queen size bed, a small couch, and a low table.
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  It seemed like an eternity, but it was probably only ten minutes before there was a sharp rap on her cabin door.

  Heart in her throat, she opened the door to shoulders so wide they blocked the glow of her porch light and Brady’s heavy lidded gaze.

  She motioned for him to come in, her nerves jangling now that he was really here, now that they were really going to do this. Was she supposed to make the first move? Would he? How did this all work again?

  “Do you want a drink?” she asked, motioning to the bottle of wine sitting on the table.

  “Do you need one?” he asked with a wry smile as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders.

  “Maybe,” she admitted. She retrieved two glasses from the bathroom while he opened the bottle.

  “You’re nervous,” he said as he poured two glasses of the white.

  She nodded. Even if she wanted to deny it, there was no way he could miss the way her hands shook as she held out the glasses for him to fill. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone but—” she cut herself off before she uttered his name. “Sorry. I’m rusty in this whole hooking up thing, but I’m pretty sure it’s bad form to bring up my ex.” She took a sip of her wine, hoping that it, along with the few she’d consumed at the reception, would take the edge off.

  “Is that what we’re doing, hooking up?” he said and took a hearty sip from his own glass.

  “Isn’t that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  He shrugged and bent to put his glass on the table. “I’m not a kid so I guess I wouldn’t know.”

  No, he wasn’t a kid. And something, a hard light in his silvery eyes, told her maybe he’d never truly been one.

  “I like your dress,” he said, startling her with the abrupt change of subject.

  “Thanks,” she said, self-consciously smoothing her hand over the front. “As bridesmaid dresses go, it could be much worse.”

  “It would look even better on the floor.”

  She gave a startled laugh at the cheesy pick up line and realized he was suddenly standing very close. He took the glass from her hand, put it on the table, and pulled her against him.

  “I mean it,” he said, shifting his hips until she could feel the hard bulge of his fly against her stomach. “Take it off.”

  Whoa. She’d fantasized about having big, bad Brady in her bed. But was she really prepared for the reality?

  Then he kissed her, so hungry and unexpectedly sweet at the same time. “Please,” he murmured against her lips as his hands roamed up her back, searching for the zipper. “I want to see you. I feel like I’ve been waiting all my life to see you.”

  Molly didn’t know if it was a line he used on everyone and at the moment she didn’t care, the sheer need in his voice compelling her to give him exactly what he wanted. She felt cool air on her back as he slid the zipper open and helped him push the dress off of her shoulders and down her hips, leaving her in nothing but the thin cream satin bra and matching panties.

  Then he stepped back, hands on her hips, staring so long she knew he was disappointed.

  She closed her eyes, ruing the body she’d been cursed with since puberty hit like a tornado, changing her practically overnight from a wiry little thing into this.

  Too short for the exaggerated curves of her hips, breasts and waist. And even with her recent weight loss, her stomach wasn’t completely flat -

  “You are too gorgeous for words,” he breathed.

  Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?”

  “I mean, I had an idea of what you had going on, spent enough time thinking about it…” he trailed off, his hands tightening around her hips as he pulled to him.

  “And you have no idea how hot you are do you?”

  She certainly felt hot as he fisted one hand in her hair and tilted her head back for his kiss. Slow, hot, hungry. Sending waves of pulsing heat to the tips of her breasts and between her thighs, making her wet and ready with only his mouth on hers.

  His big hand traced down her throat, followed by his lips. Tugging the cup aside, he grunted in what sounded like approval as her breast was bared.

  His hand was dark against the pale skin of her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core. And when his lips closed over the tight peak, the burst of sensation was enough to make her legs go weak. He reached around and unhooked her bra. It landed on the floor and his hand covered her other breast, circling her nipple with his thumb as he sucked and licked her into oblivion.

  Molly clung to his shoulders, barely able to stand as pleasure ripped through her at the feel of his lips, tongue, and fingers on her. Her sex clenched with every pull of his lips and brush of his fingers, already pushing her to the brink.

  “So goddamn beautiful,” he murmured between caresses. “Been wanting this for so long,” he growled. His teeth closed over her in a gentle bite, making her moan and dig her fingers into his shoulders.

  “That’s it baby. Make some noise. Tell me how much you like it.”

  He sank down to his knees, licking and sucking his way down the soft, pale skin of her stomach. Any flicker of self-consciousness at her nearly naked state fled as he traced his tongue along the waistband of her satin panties.

  Her breath caught in her chest as he hooked his thumb in the elastic and slid the scrap of fabric down her legs. The sight of him kneeling in front of her, his mouth so close to her sex she could feel the heat of his breath sent another burst of heat and wetness pulsing through her core. The fact that he was still fully clothed somehow made it even hotter.

  He parted her with his thumbs, and then, oh God, his mouth was on her. His tongue slid along her throbbing clit in firm strokes. She let out a sharp cry and her knees started to buckle.

  He caught her hips in his hands, steadying her. He moved lower, thrust his tongue inside, then closed his lips over her, sucking firmly.

  Her cries grew more frantic as she felt her pleasure build, pulsing, throbbing, tightening until her entire being centered around Brady’s mouth and the unbelievable pleasure he was giving her.

  “That’s it honey,” he said between sucks. “Come for me.” The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor of need through her. “Come against my mouth.”

  The gruff command, uttered in his gravelly voice, sent her flying over the edge. “Yes,” she moaned, her fingers twisting in his hair as her hips twitched and rocked against him.

  He pressed one last kiss to her still throbbing flesh and stood. At his urging she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her to the bed with an ease she would have marveled at had she been capable of coherent thought.

  The last pulses of her orgasm were still fluttering through her as he settled them on the bed so she was on her back and he was cradled between her parted legs. Her hands slid down his back and she tugged at his shirt. “I want to see you too,” she said and gave his earlobe a little nip. “Take these off,” she added, echoing his earlier words.

  He kissed her hard, then moved to stand next to the bed, and went to work on the buttons of his shirt.

  Molly watched, rapt, as inch after inch of tanned, hair-roughened skin was revealed. He shrugged it off his shoulders and she had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping in awe.

  While he whose name she would not even think had managed to keep himself reasonably fit past his high school baseball career, Brady had the kind of body Molly had only seen in underwear and cologne ads.

  No, she corrected herself. Brady’s body was nothing like those plucked, waxed, airbrushed specimens. He was bigger, leaner, the bulging muscles of his chest dusted with a dark triangle of curls that narrowed into a thin, dark line that bisected abs that looked like they’d been hand chiseled.

  Tattoos decorated the bulging muscles of his arms. A sword wrapped in a ribbon that said “Death Before Dishonor” rippled on his right bicep and a beret-wearing skull with a knife in its teeth shifted down his left forearm as he tossed the shirt to t
he floor. And the look in his eyes, hot and intent, as his hands flicked open the button at the top of his fly…

  He was all leashed power and masculine desire, standing over her like some primitive sex god sent down to earth to service her. Making her feel very much the mere mortal.

  ###

  Brady felt the heat of Molly’s gaze like an open flame tracing across his skin. Call him cocky, but he’d been getting attention from women from the time he was a teenager. He worked with what he had and knew women found him attractive. It was nice to know, but knowing they rarely cared about what lay beyond the exterior meant he didn’t put too much stock in their admiration.

  But Molly, beautiful, luscious Molly, looking at him like she wanted to eat him up with a spoon made him feel like the fucking king of the universe.

  Feeling like he was about to burst into flame, he watched her eyes trail down to his hands as he slowly unzipped his pants. Wasting no time, he shoved them down to the floor along with his boxers. He took an absurd delight in the way she gasped as his cock sprang free.

  “Hopefully you’re not disappointed,” he said with a grin. He stood at the edge of the bed, his body tense with anticipation as she rose to her knees.

  “You are… perfect,” she said shakily. Her hand trailed down his abs, making his muscles jump and quiver. Her gaze flicked uncertainly down her own body. “And I’m—”

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he said, tumbling her back onto the bed and settling himself between her thighs.

  His breath hissed between his teeth as his cock brushed against her silky smooth skin, at the incredible feel of her bare breasts crushed against his chest.

  She gave her head a little shake. “My thighs are too big—“

  “Shut up,” he said curtly, and lifted up on his elbows to look her in the eye. “You’re twenty-eight fucking years old, well past the time for you to wake up and understand you’ve got the kind of body that gives a man dreams that have him waking up sweating with his dick in his hand.”

  She cocked a blond brow, her cheeks flushing with pleasure. “You speaking from experience?”