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Wild for you, p.5
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       Wild For You, p.5

           J. C. Reed
 
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  A bathroom that comes with a shower and what looks like a generously sized bathtub.

  This is heaven.

  “I shouldn’t,” I mumble, closing my eyes. It would be completely unprofessional. Then again, I wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t turned off the water. “Crap.”

  Before I can change my mind, I cross his bedroom in a few long strides.

  The bathroom is bigger than mine with marble tiles and a huge bathtub. There’s even a monstrous walk-in shower that can accommodate at least two.

  It all feels so wrong.

  Guilt starts tugging at me because of the fact that I’m invading his privacy.

  What if I’m wrong and Cash didn’t switch off the water. Maybe he has a plumbing problem and there’s a leakage somewhere.

  I can’t blame him without concrete proof.

  As I turn on the faucet, water starts pouring into the tub—warm and oh-so-inviting. It’s much warmer than mine, which, come to think of it, always borders on icy.

  “Son of a bitch,” I whisper.

  This is all the proof I need. Cash is doing this on purpose, maybe to get rid of me. My mind’s made up. I’m not leaving. If he’s trying to make my job harder than it already is, then I’m going to make him work harder than he’s worked in his entire life.

  I’ll help him while turning into his worst nightmare. I’m going to be relentless…starting today.

  As soon as I’ve cleaned up, I’m going to comb through every single spot in his house to find him.

  But first…

  Sighing with delight, I close the door to his bathroom and drop the towel to the floor.

  Unprofessional or not, I sure as hell won’t be running around dirty while he’s laughing his ass off. First, I’ll use his bathroom, and then I’ll turn the tables.

  I’ll be exactly what he doesn’t expect me to be. He won’t even see it coming.

  Chapter Seven

  Cash

  The shower’s running. I can hear it through the closed door that’s standing between us.

  Oh, wait. It’s not the shower. The flow is heavier and steadier, like a mad rush.

  Erin’s taking a bath…in my bathroom.

  The knowledge excites me, arouses me.

  It’s pure deliciousness.

  Letting out a low groan, I imagine her naked legs propped up against the wall of the tub. Her soft skin covered in thousands of bubbles. Her head thrown back. Maybe a hand between her legs, stroking herself.

  Damn!

  The thought of her fingers inside her tight little pussy is both hot and undeniably painful.

  I’m pulsating with want. My balls are heavy and bursting, begging for release. I’m undoubtedly attracted to her. Wanting her when I should hate her. Getting all worked up just because a damn woman is using my bathroom, possibly masturbating.

  Maybe she’s imagining me while she’s doing it.

  The odds are definitely in my favor. I’ve met my fair share of women and recognize the signs of someone being attracted to me.

  Holding my breath, I fight the urge to storm right in there and get a reaction from her. Maybe even force her to acknowledge our attraction.

  My cock twitches, reminding me that both Miss Prissy and I would benefit from a little action between the sheets right now.

  The faucet is turned off.

  I’m waiting for a moan, a scream, maybe even something vibrating. I’m begging for an image, for a clue—anything that would keep my mind busy for the next few nights.

  “Cash.” Erin’s voice carries over. “Don’t even pretend you’re not standing in front of the door like a creep because I know you’re out there.”

  I bang my head against the door, heaving a dramatic sigh. “What gave me away?”

  There is a small pause. I can hear her shifting in the water, splashing it around. “Your shadow. You realize how creepy you are, right?”

  My lips twitch. “Creepier than the fact you’re using my bathroom without asking?”

  “Admit it. You didn’t give me a choice. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to arrive home dirty, and you can’t even wash your hands?”

  More frustrating than having blue balls? I want to ask. Or that I’m dying here trying to imagine her naked?

  My hands grab the door handle, readying myself in case she gives me the go-ahead sign. “Let me come in, Erin.”

  There’s a short pause before she replies, “Absolutely not.”

  “Fine.” I lean against the door, my shoulder resting against the wood. “In that case, we need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know how to make it clear to you that I want you to quit your job.”

  She lets out a groan that unfortunately doesn’t resemble the moan I’ve been waiting for—not even in my wildest fantasies. The water sloshes around the tub. A few seconds later, the door opens. It’s only a slit but I can make out that her hair’s wet and one of my towels is wrapped around her glorious body.

  For an instant, all I can think about is that I want to be that towel.

  With the light streaming in through the high bay window and her face free of makeup, she looks younger, more carefree. The scent of my shower gel wafts over.

  I imagine myself rubbing the shower gel onto her skin. Massaging her to get more lather. Pressing her dripping wet body against mine.

  The thought’s driving me crazy with want.

  “Why?” Erin asks, interrupting my little fantasy with her.

  The question’s simple enough, yet I’ve no idea what the hell’s she talking about. “Why, what?”

  “Why do you want me to leave?”

  “Because we can’t work together,” I clarify, leaving out the part that I could never focus on any kind of work with someone like her around. She’s too sexy, too much of a distraction.

  “You don’t want my help. I get it,” she starts. “You think accepting anyone’s help would make you appear weak. But you need the training. You need to get your muscles working the right way. You need someone who’ll push you to go beyond your limits.”

  “I can do that on my own, thank you,” I mumble.

  Her eyes meet mine through the open slit. “Please, be honest with yourself. You can’t. It doesn’t work that way. You need the physical therapy to help your joints regain mobility. If you don’t start soon, your muscles will get weaker. They’ll become incapable of supporting the injured structures, which, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, will predispose you to further injury. Trust me, you don’t want that…unless you don’t mind being in pain and on painkillers for the rest of your life. No patient can ever do it on their own.”

  “I’m not taking any pain killers.”

  She sucks in a sharp breath. “Right. That’s very brave of you, but it doesn’t change a damn thing.” Her gaze holds mine. “I’m only here to help, Cash. Don’t make it hard on us.”

  “It’s Cash, now? What happened to Mr. Body?” I cast her a sideways grin, which she doesn’t return. She swings the door open and peers out, exhaling a heavy sigh. She’s growing frustrated, I can tell by the frown on her face and the annoyed look in her eyes. But I can’t help myself.

  She is too naked, too close, too sexy. From up close, with half her breasts on full display and my towel barely covering her ass, she looks more perfect than in the daydreams I’ve been having about her. My lusting for her is slowly turning into a ravaging hunger. I take her in, all of her, while fighting the urge to rip off her clothes and take her right here, on this very spot, on the floor, against the wall, in as many ways as I can get her.

  I want to bind her to my bedpost and fuck her day and night. I can almost taste her skin, smell her scent as she comes with my name on her lips. “You know what would make me feel better?”

  “What?” she asks warily.

  “Kissing you.” My gaze trails her lips. They’re full and ripe, and so very ready for me. “I want to kiss you, Erin.”

  He
r breath hitches, and her eyes grow just a little bit wider. But it’s not with shock.

  It’s arousal.

  For a few seconds, she’s rendered speechless, her emotions clearly written across her face.

  She wants it. She wants me.

  “You can’t kiss me,” she protests weakly.

  “Why not? It’s not like you don’t want me to.” I inch toward her, closing some of the inches between us, as I watch her reaction. “Right?”

  Her eyes shimmer with want, her silence affirming my words.

  She doesn’t need to declare her attraction to me. It’s right there, reflected in the way her chest is heaving and her lips seem to part just for me. Her gaze lingers on my mouth, then lifts back up to my eyes, as if she’s indeed considering it. Imagining it. Weighing the ups and downs.

  The knowledge turns me on.

  My heart slams against my chest. My breathing grows heavy, labored.

  “You want it as much as I want you. Don’t pretend otherwise, Erin.” I close the last bit of distance between us, bringing my mouth so close to hers, our breaths intermingle. “I can’t imagine two people living together and be attracted to one another, not pursuing that attraction. It’s not possible. Not with a woman like you.”

  Her brows shoot up. “A woman like me?”

  “Yes. Someone who’s going to have to touch me on a daily basis. I’m a man. I can’t have your fingers all over me and not think of sex. So, let’s skip the part where I’m lusting after you like a teen, and do something about it.”

  I know the moment she touches me, I’ll go wild for her. How could I not? She’s beautiful, sexy, and she lives with me.

  “Let me get this straight.” She bites her lip, thinking. “Your solution is to act on it? Do you think it will go away and then you’ll be able to focus on therapy?” She sounds doubtful.

  “It would definitely help.”

  She hesitates. “Just a kiss, Cash. Nothing more.”

  “Okay. One kiss.” I can barely contain a smile. She’s about to agree.

  “A real kiss?” Erin asks.

  “As real as it can get.” I lean into her and brush my lips against her earlobe. “You would be helping me. Very much so. What do you say?”

  She remains silent. She needs a final push.

  “You want to, Erin,” I whisper. “Want to know how I know?” My finger strokes her collarbone, tracing it gently. “A pulse never lies. Your heart’s beating so fast, I can almost hear it.”

  “Maybe I want to, Cash,” she says slowly. “But make no mistake. After this one time, it’s back to business. I want to be able to do my job. I’m not giving up on you.” She sounds hesitant, guarded; her words are slow and measured, as if speaking them out loud could turn out to be a mistake.

  There’s one thing that will give her the final push.

  I know what she wants to hear. And I’m going to give it to her, even if it’s not the truth.

  “One kiss will dispel this attraction. It often does. Getting that part out of the way will help with the therapy or whatever you have in mind.”

  My hand moves past her collarbone to the nape of her neck as I bring my lips close to her mouth. She smells of shower gel and something else—a scent that’s been lingering around the house since the day she arrived.

  It reminds me of vanilla and sugar, of the kind of candy I want to lick and suck into my mouth. I don’t know if it’s her perfume, her skin, or just her, but it’s delicious.

  I imagine myself licking her skin, biting into her shoulder, and leaving my mark on her. My hand fists in her silky soft hair, and my mouth crushes against hers.

  Her lips part instantly, willing, and her tongue tangles with mine. Her lips feel hot. But her tongue…it’s the temperature of lava.

  Damn.

  It’s a hell of a good kiss.

  It’s the highlight of my day.

  No, make it the highlight of my year.

  My whole being hums with excitement. My pants bulge from the tension and the want surging through me, and my body is on fire as our tongues tango in the kind of erotic dance that tells me this attraction is anything but easily dispelled.

  I don’t know how Dad stumbled across her, but I thank the stars for bringing her to me. I let my tongue dip in and out of her hot mouth. We touch and lick until it feels as though my heart might just burst out of my chest, and the crotch of my pants will rip at the seams.

  With each kiss, I feel free. With each stroke of our tongues, I feel alive. With every shudder, she becomes a part of my soul.

  We are attuned to each other, our tongues splitting time with our souls. With every breath, I can feel something resonating.

  Crashing. Rising. Melting.

  A kiss is never going to be enough. Maybe I can fool her, but I can’t fool myself. The sexual attraction between us is too strong, too relentless. It’s affecting my work, my exercising regime, my sleep. All I can do is think about her, and it’s driving me insane.

  My hands settle around Erin’s wrists, and I lift them above her head. She gives a little moan of approval as the towel drops to the floor. My mouth remains glued to hers, but I can feel her nakedness against me.

  I want her. Badly. If I don’t take what I want, and soon, I’ll be sporting a hard-on for the rest of her stay.

  She’s shaking beneath my strong grip. Deep down I know she wants me just as badly as I want her. Using my bad knee, I nudge her legs open. She presses her hips against me, as I wedge myself between her thighs, my mouth conquering hers again and again. My hand moves between her legs, stroking that delicious little spot that’s as sweet as heaven, and damn, she’s wet for me.

  I stroke her gently, rubbing my fingers against her sweet spot, and we kiss until our breaths come short and ragged.

  We kiss until she grinds her hips into me, until I know I could bring her to the edge.

  “Do you feel how much I want you?” I whisper and press my erection into her. My words make her freeze.

  Shit.

  She pries her mouth away from mine and struggles out of my grip.

  Her cheeks are ablaze, and her eyes shimmer with awareness, as if my words have made her realize the impact of our intimate encounter.

  I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

  “God, Cash.” She takes a deep breath, half panting, half moaning. “This is going to stop right now.” Leaving the towel at her feet, as she dashes back into the bathroom and slams the door behind her.

  I stare at the closed door. “You can’t be serious.”

  It takes her a full minute to answer. “I’m sorry, Cash. I can’t do this. Trust me when I say, stopping now is for the best.”

  “Are you sure? Because it doesn’t sound like you are.” I’m so sexually frustrated I could slam my fist into the wall.

  She sighs. “I’m very sure. I’m sorry. Please, let’s just stay away from each other for a while.”

  “It was a just a kiss.”

  “No.” I can imagine her shaking her head as she draws out the word. “No, it was way more than that. It was a mistake. Us having sex isn’t going to help you. I should never have gone this far. Please, accept my apology. It was unprofessional of me. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You weren’t thinking. You were feeling. We both need—” I struggle to find the right word. “Relief.”

  “I should have known better. You’re my patient. I’m sorry.”

  “If you keep saying sorry one more time I swear I’ll—” I rake my fingers through my hair, unsure what the hell I’ll be doing. The thing is she’s blowing hot and cold. I want her, but I can’t have her, even though she wants it, too.

  Her bullshit about professionalism is infuriating.

  “You know what? You’re right,” I say. “It’s unprofessional of you to make me want you the way I do, and then leave me in physical pain.”

  “That wasn’t my intention at all. Tomorrow we’ll try a different approach. Something that will take
your mind off of things.”

  I laugh. She can’t be serious.

  Nothing could ever take my mind off the hot little pussy I can probably smell on my fingers.

  But then she adds, “I promise we’ll start slow. You’ll see therapy will make you feel so much better. You’ll be back to your old self in no time.”

  That instantly kills the mood.

  My old self.

  She just won’t let me forget it.

  I grab the towel off the floor and knock on the door to make sure I have her attention. “Now’s a good time to quit.”

  “What?”

  “Quit,” I say, this time louder. “Time for you to leave.”

  “You can’t be serious.” She sounds incredulous, but I can already hear the angry undertones in her voice. “You tell me to leave after we’ve just made out? You’re a prick, Mr. Boyd.”

  “We’re back to Mr. Boyd, huh? Make up your mind, woman.”

  “The answer’s ‘no.’ I’m not quitting. I told you before, and I’ll say it again,” Erin yells.

  “You will…once you realize you’re wasting your time.”

  A small bang resonates from the walls. Did she just slam her hand against the door? Or maybe it was her head. I grin, imagining her beautiful eyes shimmering with anger and her breasts heaving with every furious breath she takes.

  Oh, how much I would pay just to see her naked and shaking with rage.

  “You made me kiss you,” she hisses.

  “Because you wanted it as much as I did,” I say coolly.

  “No, I didn’t. I only agreed because you claimed you’d let me do my job. You said it would help with your therapy.”

  “Your words, not mine, sweetheart.”

  She groans in exasperation. “Those were exactly your words.”

  She must be fuming by now. I bet her skin’s all flushed and hot, and so very ready for my touch.

  “You tricked me. Go away, Mr. Boyd.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t, sweetheart. This is my house. If someone has to leave, then that’s definitely you.”

 
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