Wild For You, p.15J. C. Reed
His strong grip on me is strangely arousing. Everything about this man seems to be.
“You’re going to be mine...and mine alone,” Cash says slowly.
“What makes you think I’m not someone else’s already?” My voice is a strangled whisper, betraying the fact that I want to be his.
“If you were, the guy would be out of his mind to let you go. No man’s so stupid.” His lips brush against mine. “I want to date you.”
I pull up my brows, feigning surprise. “What happened to just sex? Fuck this attraction out of our systems? Reward you for the effort you’re putting into therapy?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want everything, and I want it now.” His eyes are two green pools of lust, undressing me with every glance. “You’re too sexy for your own sake, and I’m too impatient to wait. We’re both adults here. We can handle being both professionally and intimately involved with each other. You’ve already said yes to sex, and now I’m going to show you what my plans for tonight are. Let’s just say, they involve you a lot. Just say the three letter word.”
“You mean ‘yes?’”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes piercing into me. “No, the word is ‘now.’”
His voice augments the tingling sensation between my legs, the sexy rumble making me ache for his touch down there.
Never has a word sounded so dirty, appealing, and pleasing all at the same time.
I want him badly. I want him desperately. I want him now.
I’m both tempted and appalled by my willingness to go along with it, and quick to act on this attraction. He’s my patient—it all feels so wrong and yet so right.
Instead of keeping my professional composure I’m jumping right to the fun.
I want him in any way I can get him. I want to run my hands down his body, explore every inch of his skin as he hardens for me.
So, what’s stopping me?
A balmy breeze is blowing across our skin, barely cooling the heat coursing through my veins ever since Erin’s arrival. We’re sitting on the veranda, her shapely thigh brushing mine, her mouth ready and ripe for me.
She knows I want her—I’ve never made a secret out of it. Now, she’s finally letting me have her.
It’s only a matter of minutes until I’ll be inside her, savoring her touch, her body. Even though my cock’s already hard for her, I can’t rush this. I want her to tremble with anticipation, to come even before I’ve buried myself deep inside her.
“Erin.” My voice is a deep rumble, conveying my need for her.
For a second, she stops breathing, her gaze focused on my mouth as I lean over her, forcing her to settle back on the lounge chair.
My hands settle on her knees, squeezing her dress up her thighs to reveal the soft, milky skin.
“Cash.” Her voice is barely louder than a whimper, begging me—but not to stop. She’s urging me on, fidgeting with my belt, eager to speed things along. Her gaze is glued to the strain of my cock. The tip of her tongue flicks over her lips like she’s desperate, hungry for it. Under different circumstances, I’d let her suck me into her gorgeous mouth, but I want to make this time about her.
I want to make it all about her pleasure. I want to hear my name on her lips as she comes again and again.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” I push her hands aside and kneel beside her, ignoring the pain shooting through my leg. It’s not as bad as it used to be, though. Therapy has made everything more bearable. I’m making progress, and she’s the one who’s gotten me so far.
Grabbing her hips, I pull her to the edge of the lounge chair and hook my fingers under her panties. She doesn’t protest as I remove them and spread her thighs wide open.
She’s already wet for me, her pussy glistening with moisture, sweet and inviting.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you.” I rub my finger up and down her slit, spreading her arousal from her clit to her entrance. Her scent reaches my nostrils, and I growl with need. Eager to taste her, I trail my tongue up one inner thigh, then another, then proceed to suck her little nub of pleasure into my mouth. Her back arches and her hips rise, pressing her hot pussy against my willing mouth.
“Hmmm,” I moan and lap at her entrance, licking her moisture like it’s the most delicious aphrodisiac.
“Cash, yes. Oh, God.” Her whimper breaks, and she clenches her fingers in my hair, unsure whether to push me away or pull me closer.
“Don’t hold back,” I command and dive my tongue all along her pussy, sucking and licking from back to front. She groans, and I begin to circle her clit in response, my fingers joining in the fun, forcing her to the edge.
Her body’s responding, her hips rocking with each thrust of my fingers, writhing across the lounge chair, opening her pussy for me.
She’s so close to coming, I can taste it in the juices gushing out of her and the whimper rocking her chest. Every time she nears the edge, I pull back a little, ignoring her tiny protests, driving her crazy with want.
“Please,” she whispers.
“Please, what?” I ask, curling my fingers inside her so the pad presses against the front wall of her pussy.
“Please, fuck me.”
“I very much intend to do that, sweetheart,” I growl and lick harder until I can feel the waves of pleasure rocking her thighs and abdomen. She fists her hands in my hair, pulling me closer, and then she comes.
My mouth is still on her pussy as I gaze at the beautiful woman splayed before me. Her eyes are closed, her lids fluttering, her lips parted. Her pussy clenches around my fingers a moment before she’s carried over the edge into a shuddering orgasm with my name dripping from her lips.
I don’t let go of her until she’s come twice and her body’s shaking with the force of it. When she’s stopped trembling, I pull my fingers out of her and push up to my feet, squeezing out of my shirt and jeans.
My cock jumps to life, all ten inches of it hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Erin’s eyes fly open, and her gaze settles on my cock. For a moment, panic shoots across her face. I’m big, but I know how to use my tool to get the most pleasure out of it without inflicting discomfort.
Leaning over her, I pull her mouth into a deep kiss, hard and soft at once, both desperate and possessive. My weight is pinning her down as my mouth claims her mouth mercilessly over and over again, until my head is swimming with her taste, her scent, everything about her. I could do this all day, every day. But my cock is thick and rock hard, asking to take what it claimed the moment it saw her.
Lifting her naked leg, I pull it around my waist and settle between her willing thighs. Her pussy’s coated with need, grinding against my length.
I trail my tongue up to her ear and nip at the sensitive spot. She gasps softly, and when she opens her mouth in response, I intertwine my tongue with hers, one hand dipping down to her secret spot where our bodies will soon merge as one.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper and push two fingers into her channel to spread her natural lube. “And smoking hot. Anyone ever tell you that.”
She whimpers in response, her hips rise, her walls clenching around my fingers.
“I’ve fantasized about doing this from the first moment I saw you. I’ve wanted to take you, taste you like no one’s ever done before.”
“Then do it,” Erin whispers. “Do it now.”
I smile at her as my thumb zeroes in on her swollen clit. She gasps and moans, and that’s when I slide my shaft into her in one slow motion, inch after inch. Her walls tighten, then relax to accommodate me.
Beads of sweat form on her forehead and trickle down her temple, but she doesn’t protest. She doesn’t pull me back.
“Oh, fuck,” Erin breathes and moans. Her hand fists in my hair, and she lets out a strangled cry, urging me on to go as deep as I can.
Slowly, I rock back out of her. Her hips rise t
Her walls clench a moment before she comes. Hearing my name pouring from her lips, I lose control and collapse on top of her, shooting my seed deep into her, marking her as mine. As I lay back and draw her to my chest, I’m still buried inside her, still connected.
Her heart is pounding against mine, and I realize this feels different than my usual post-coital cuddling.
It feels right.
It feels meaningful.
Like the beginning of something great.
I lift her chin and place a soft kiss on Erin’s lips, also realizing that she’s not the kind of woman I’ll ever let go.
“Feel my pulse,” I whisper into her ear and press her palm against my chest.
“Because it tells you the truth.”
“What does it say?” she whispers.
My lips curve into a smile. “I’m wild for you.”
* * *
* * *
I never believed in obsession at first sight. I still don’t. But Erin comes close to becoming an obsession to me. She evokes all kinds of feelings in me, all of them strangely euphoric, all of them surprisingly good.
All of them make me want more of her.
I’m transfixed on her.
That’s the correct term.
Obsessing over the girl.
If I didn’t know any better, I would say that I’m falling in love with her. Then again, I was never in love before. So how would I know?
Admitting my feelings for her wasn’t part of the plan, but her accident made me realize this might be the time to take risks. It was my fault she got on the tractor in the first place. I made our situation unbearable for her, and as a result she tried to leave.
Now’s the time to make sure she stays.
I don’t want to ruin my chances with her again.
My fingers brush over her cheek. Her skin is soft, kissed from the unrelenting Montana sun. Her features are relaxed. Her long eyelashes flutter a few times, just like they did when she rode me hard and came even harder. Gently, I brush her hair back and then lean forward to press a light kiss on her forehead.
After doing it on the lounger outside, we moved to the living room, where we talked and then explored each other’s body some more.
She’s sleeping on the couch now, the soft light throwing dancing shadows across her skin, her hair spread out on the pillow. Being careful not to wake her, I cover her with a blanket and then head into the kitchen to prepare the coffee. As the coffee maker’s whirring, I check my phone.
There’s a total of three messages, all from Sam, one of my oldest friends. And just as expected, the phone rings. Ever since my accident, he’s been calling every week, same day, same time, to check on my progress.
Bull riding is his passion and life. Sam and his brother Joe introduced me to the professional side of it. They even taught me a few tricks along the way, which ended up catapulting me to the top of the game.
I answer almost instantly and grimace as the blaring music in the background blasts through the earpiece. There’s the faint sound of a voice trying to fight its way through, but I can’t make out a single word.
“Sam, get out of that shithole for a minute. I can’t hear a damn thing.”
The line breaks a few times, as though someone’s pressing a hand over the phone. I can picture Sam elbowing his way through some dingy, smoke-filled bar to reach the door. Eventually, the music recedes, and I can make out Sam’s voice.
“There’s going to be another competition in five weeks.” Sam isn’t a man of greetings or friendly small talk. He always cuts to the chase, his tone betraying his excitement. “Joe just told me Dillinger will be in Paeroa on the 16th. How’s the leg?”
I grit my teeth. “It’s seen better days, but I’m working my ass off to get it back in shape.”
“Are you sure it’s not too early, because your dad said…”
“Forget Dad. Just because I can’t run, doesn’t mean I can’t ride.” I lean against the refrigerator to take the pressure off my hip. “I could ride any bull with my eyes closed. I know it.”
“But last time…”
“Sam,” I hiss. “Last time, I made a mistake. I lost focus.” Silence ensues for a few seconds. “I know what I’m doing. Give your brother the heads up. He can count me in. The 16th, you said?”
The stifling silence persists. I strain to listen, unsure whether I’ve just lost him, when the music’s back on.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. There’s news going around that Dillinger killed a contestant last week and that this might be his last competition. They want him off the list and retired.”
“That’s ridiculous. Dillinger is the best bull they’ve ever had.”
“Maybe,” Sam says. “But people have started to withdraw. He’s become too uncontrollable, and no one’s willing to risk their lives.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to push the pictures of my accident to the back of my mind. Kellan should never have shown me the damn video. Then again, I would have found it myself and watched it anyway.
“What’s Joe thinking?” I ask after a pause.
“Forget Joe. I’m not doing it, and neither should you. It’s getting too dangerous.”
I open my eyes, surprised. This doesn’t sound like Sam at all. “Are you chickening out?”
He sighs. “I’m worth more alive than dead, dude. Now that my daughter’s born, my wife isn’t too happy about me getting back into that saddle. I have a family to care for. I can’t afford an accident like…”
He breaks off.
“Say it, Sam. Don’t tiptoe around me like everyone else. Say it. I can take it.” I growl. “An accident like mine.” I press my palm against the counter, fighting the urge to slam my fist down. “Tell Joe I’m in.”
A short pause, then, “Okay. I’ll be back from Hawaii sometime next week. I’ll send you the details as soon as I have them. Promise you’ll give this some thought, Cash. No one expects you to prove anything.”
“I don’t need to think about it.” I end the call, then toss the phone on the counter. It lands with a loud thud.
A surge of anger shoots through me.
Dillinger is the best bull, and they’re thinking of retiring him?
There’s no way I’ll miss this once in a lifetime opportunity. It would be insane. In the nine years I’ve been bull riding, there hasn’t been a single beast as vigorous and robust as Dillinger. He’s the best line I’ve ever come across.
Busy with my thoughts, I start to whisk eggs in a bowl, adding water and pepper. By the time I heat the skillet and pour in the scrambled eggs, I know exactly what I’m going to do.
Erin appears in the doorway, the blanket wrapped around her naked body.
“Can’t sleep?” She rubs the sleep from her eyes.
I glance at the clock. It’s 6.40 a.m. We’ve had less than four hours of sleep, which is enough for me. Back in Chicago, I often get less.
“There’s this important seven thirty appointment I can’t miss.” I wink. “I’ve run out of excuses for not showing up, so I’d better not be late. Will you have breakfast with me, gorgeous?”
She leans against the doorframe, watching me with an incredulous expression, as if she still can’t believe that I’m truly willing to go through with the physical therapy. I wink again, and her face lights up a little. “Sure. Just let me get dressed.”
Right before she disappears, I catch the hint of a smile, and I realize just how happy it makes her to help someone else. That’s something I’ve never encountered before.
An hour later, after breakfa
It’s hard to believe we had sex a few hours ago. Except for a few meaningful glances, and the way her chest rises and falls whenever she touches me, she acts like I’m any patient to her.
She’s patient when I feel frustrated, kind when I let out growl after growl of pain, and supportive when I least expect it. With each new exercise, there’s a new surge of energy giving me new hope and keeping me going.
I can do this.
I’ll be able to walk again.
I’m going to see Dillinger in five weeks.
In spite of the excruciating pain, the session’s over too fast.
Erin’s packing up when I say, “I want to do another session right now.”
She frowns but begins to unpack the equipment. “I wouldn’t rush this, Cash. We have to go slow.”
“I don’t see the need.” I shrug, ignoring the throbbing pain, and begin another set of exercises. “The sooner I get out of this house, the sooner I’ll have my dad off my back.”
She stops to regard me for a moment. I wrap my arms around her waist and place a soft kiss on her nose. “This was great. I don’t even feel any pain,” I lie.
She frowns at me and shoots me a strange look as we keep at it for another half hour.
“Want to tell me what’s really on your mind, Cash?” Erin asks after we’re almost done.
It’s late morning, and I’m spent. My back is drenched, and my muscles are sore.
“I want to be able to walk again the way I used to. That’s all.”
She draws a long, meaningful breath. “As long as the pain’s bearable. But I think this is enough for today. Now, let’s stretch.” Her expression darkens. “I want to help you, but at the same time I fear that once you’re back to your old self, you’ll do something stupid. You’ve done it in the past.”
“I’m not planning on risking my life again, Erin. Not knowingly, anyway.” I look away. Guilt as bitter as bile settles in the pit of my stomach as begin my stretching exercises.
Wild For You by J. C. Reed / History & Fiction have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes