by Amanda Usen
“Almost done over here, thanks to your excellent prep work.” Susannah smiled. “If things get slow at the bank, you’ll always have a place in my kitchen.” It took a second for her words to sink in. Then he froze. Banker? Adam was the banker?
What the hell was going on here? Was she dating the banker? His body went cold so fast it felt like he’d jumped into a pool of ice water. So what if she was? Nothing between Susannah and him was real, but he’d lost sight of that fact because he wanted her. This was her world. It wasn’t his. He was only visiting and, as far as he knew, the banker lived here.
Fury made his spine ache and froze every muscle in place. Susie was playing a dangerous game. If she thought he’d play nice because he was on her turf, she was wrong. He couldn’t give her the life she wanted, but he’d be damned if he’d let her pick this guy. Everything about Adam had pissed him off the second they’d met, but Russ could have ignored his jealousy if the banker was a good guy. Susannah deserved to be happy with her banker type, but Adam was clearly putting the moves on Holly. There was no way Russ would calmly eat steak and potatoes while Susannah opened her heart to another man who’d break it.
“Ready, Wild Man?” Susannah held out a platter.
“You bet.” He swept the meat off the grill and tossed the tongs aside. Then he took the platter out of her hands, set it on the counter, and bent to haul her into a fireman’s carry. Securing her weight with one hand on her butt, he turned to the camera. “You’ll have to excuse us for a second.”
…
Susannah bucked, trying to get loose, but Russ’s grip tightened, beaching her on his broad shoulder. “What are you doing? Put me down.” Had he lost his mind? She kicked her legs, but he banded his other arm around her thighs and ignored her.
She briefly considered hitting him, but the only thing she could reach was his butt. She had no doubt a video of her hanging upside down spanking the Wild Man would go viral in two seconds flat. Where the hell was he taking her?
Into the bathroom off the kitchen, apparently. He kicked the door shut and dropped her onto the counter. He turned on the light and then locked the door. “Explain the banker.”
She punched him in the chest. “I’m not explaining anything to you.”
He didn’t flinch, but he caught her hands and held them. “The last I heard, you had a date with a banker, and now there’s one in your kitchen blatantly hitting on another woman. Start talking or this is going to get ugly. I have no problem dragging him out onto the porch instead of dragging you into the bathroom.”
“What? No. Wait—do you think Adam and I are together?”
“I don’t know what to think. You haven’t told me anything yet.” His hands gripped hers.
“You’re upset because you think Adam and I are dating?”
He flushed. “You deserve a good guy, one who will stick around.”
She shook her head. “We’re just friends. He’s got a crush on Holly, and the show seemed like the perfect opportunity to get them together. She’ll never give him a chance otherwise—she thinks he’s way too nice for her—but she seems to be coming around, wouldn’t you say?”
“If there’s another bathroom in this house, I bet they’re in it.” His grip on her fingers softened, turning into a caress that made her stomach flutter. “Did you want him?”
His voice was gentle, and his gaze held sympathy. Poor Susannah, rejected again.
She was beyond tired of him feeling sorry for her. He’d surprised her with his caveman act, but as heat unfurled deep inside her, she remembered her plan. No, she didn’t want the banker—the gorgeous, stable, superheroic, bring-home-the-bacon-and-bake-it-on-a-sheet-pan banker.
“Nope.” She hooked her heels behind his back and pulled him between her thighs. “I want the Wild Man.”
He sucked in a harsh breath and braced his hands on the mirror behind her.
She covered his mouth with her hand before he could speak. “I want the tent guy, the flirty social media guy, the guy with the animal-print-fleece fetish—for one more night. I’ll make him breakfast in the morning, and he can take off for the mountains, but I want one more wild night.”
His tongue tickled between her fingers, and she gasped and pulled her hand away from his mouth, rubbing it on her leg. The warm, wet touch echoed through her body in pulsing waves.
“Wild, huh?” He wrapped his arms around her hips and slowly, deliberately pressed his erection between her thighs. His teeth grazed her throat. “That’s all you want? Just one more night? And then what—you go looking for the next banker?”
Her back hit the mirror. “Yes.” The word was a gasp.
He lifted one hand to cup her breast, pinning her to the counter with his hips while he stroked her nipple with his thumb, raising it to a hard peak and sending violent need streaking through her.
She held his gaze and forced herself to focus. “I want a partner, someone to share my life and show Billy how to be a man, but what if I never find him? The banker and I had zero chemistry, and there’s no guarantee I’ll ever find another guy who makes me feel like you do. I can’t stop thinking about what happened in the tent. I’m not so naive as to think one night will get you out of my system, but at least I’ll stop wondering what it would be like to have sex with you. If I have to live on memories, I want a full set. Does that make sense?”
He said nothing, but his hand tightened on her breast.
She clung to him, driven far beyond pride. “Say yes, damn it.”
His chuckle was hot against her neck. “Yes.”
Chapter Twelve
Russ had been dying for an excuse, and she’d just given it to him. He wanted her so bad he’d laid her out on the bathroom counter, for God’s sake. How much of his anger in the kitchen was concern for her life choices, and how much was the desire to get her alone and naked? Damn it, he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened in the tent, either.
Had she stumbled on the solution? Would the need hammering through him ease as soon as he came inside her? Did his obsession stem from curiosity and the desire to cross that barrier with her? She just wanted one night. She’d as good as said she’d boot him out the door and get on with her real life tomorrow. There was no reason for the dread swirling through him—this didn’t mean any more to her than it meant to him.
She jerked her shirt up and grabbed his, yanking it up too, connecting their skin. He ground into her, sinking, spiraling, feeling like his anchor had torn loose and he was free-falling, praying for the line to catch and jerk him to a stop, deliver bone-jarring pain, and save his life. It didn’t happen. He kept falling. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she sucked on it, driving every thought from his mind except the need to give her what she wanted and get what he needed.
His lungs heaved, working to give him oxygen, but he was dizzy. He couldn’t focus. There was something he needed to remember, but it slipped away every time she moved against him. He thrust her shirt higher, above her breasts, and caught a flash of leopard print. The material was soft and silky beneath his palm, thin, and now wet as he tongued her nipple through her bra. He raked his teeth over her, biting lightly, and she moaned and writhed. Did his Wild Woman have a drawer full of jungle lingerie?
Dimly, he heard a muffled chuckle, and then someone banged on the door hard enough to make it shudder. He lifted his head from her breasts and groaned. “I bet the entire crew is parked outside that door.”
Her body went stiff as the face of a rock wall.
“How do you want to play this, Susie?”
She blinked up at him. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her mouth opened. Shut. Opened again. “Umm…”
Another loud knock made them both jump.
“One minute,” he called. Regretfully, he stepped back. “How fast can you get dinner on the table?”
“Faster than you rode that zip line over the gorge in South Africa.”
Warmth spread through his chest. “You’ve been watching Wild
Man?”
“Every night.”
He gazed at her, arrested. Her confession made him want to forget about what was waiting beyond the door and kiss her again, but she was already fastening her clothing and fixing her hair. Pure satisfaction surged through him when the lip gloss she grabbed from a drawer couldn’t quite camouflage her swollen lips. He grinned as he unlocked the door. “Might as well go back in the same way we left.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guarantee they’ll get a shot of us coming out of the bathroom. Let’s make it a good one.” He tugged the band out of her hair and sank his fingers into the silky strands. He took her mouth, hard. Every time he kissed her, his hunger grew, and this time was no exception. He forced her lips wider, dived deeper, plundering her mouth while he held her in place by her hair. With the other hand, he opened the door.
…
It took her a second to realize there was a cameraman filming them from the doorway of the bathroom. When she did, it was hard to care, but she needed to do something to get all those people with their wretched cameras out of her house.
She looked straight at the lens. “You’ll have to forgive the Wild Man. He’s been in the woods too long. The good-night kiss comes after dinner, darling.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the bathroom.
The kitchen was deserted. “Uh…”
“The other two took their dinners to go.” The cameraman informed her.
“Where’s the crew?”
“Gone. There’s no way we’d get a better ending, unless you have a camera in the bathroom. You don’t, do you?” He looked hopeful. “I stayed behind to make sure.”
“Er…no.”
He shrugged. “No offense, but a bunch of chitchat over dinner isn’t exactly thrilling television.”
He was right. Her shows always ended right after the plate up. Since there were two beautiful plates waiting for them on the table, she assumed Holly or Adam had concluded the show in the usual fashion. She grabbed her phone from the drawer, where she’d placed it earlier, and found two messages. She checked Holly’s first. Don’t wait up. Adam had sent her an image of the Superman insignia. She couldn’t stifle a smile. Go, Clark.
The cameraman packed up his equipment. “Gonna be a hell of a show.”
Behind her, Russ laughed. “You’re absolutely right.”
She doubted they were referring to the same thing. At this moment, she couldn’t care less about At Home in the Wild. She’d care tomorrow. All she wanted right now was to get the cameraman out of the house, lock the door, check on Billy, and rip Russ’s clothes off.
From the way Russ ushered the guy out the door, he felt the same way. The door shut. She heard voices outside, an engine rumble to life, and then the front door opened again as Russ came back into the house. She scanned the kitchen, delighted to discover that everything perishable had already been put away. Quickly, she wrapped the plates and was in the process of putting them in the fridge when Russ strode into the kitchen. She paused with the refrigerator open. “Unless you’re hungry now?”
He lifted her into his arms. “Starving.”
She held on to his shoulders as he climbed the stairs. He carried her without effort, as if she weighed nothing, and she sighed and laid her head on his warm chest. His arms tightened around her, and he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. A tender feeling blossomed inside her, but she pushed it away. This wasn’t about affection. This was about lust. “I need to check on Billy.”
“Can I come, too?” He set her on her feet at the top of the stairs. “I’ve never seen a sleeping baby.”
“How is that possible?” But she knew. He didn’t want anything to tie him down, and nothing could hog-tie your heart faster than a child. Could she share a moment like this with him without wanting more? Too late. She already wanted more. She wanted Russ to check on Billy with her every night before they went to bed together. She knew it, had subconsciously known it for a month now, just as she knew it wasn’t going to happen. She might as well live out all her fantasies tonight. “Why not?”
She held his hand as they tiptoed into the nursery. Billy lay on his stomach with his thumb in his mouth. She waited for the quiet sound of his breath and watched his back rise and fall, conscious every minute of Russ standing behind her, his eyes bright with desire. He lifted his hand as if he wanted to touch Billy, but she caught it and led him out of the room.
“Third rule of child raising,” she said when the door was safely shut behind them. “Don’t wake the baby.” She pulled him into her bedroom.
“I won’t if you won’t.” Her breath caught as he pulled her back against his chest and ground himself into her butt. She moaned, and the sound was loud in the silent house.
He chuckled. “Shh…don’t wake the baby.”
He whipped her shirt over her head and cupped her breasts through her bra. Her nipples peaked against his palms and when he found them with his fingers, pinching and rubbing, she moaned louder. He walked her toward the bed and gave her a shove. While she was facedown, he unhooked her bra and then flipped her over, divesting her of it and then unfastening her jeans and yanking them down with her panties. They got caught on her shoes, but it took him all of ten seconds to get her shoes and socks off, and then she was naked—and suddenly insanely self-conscious.
She reached for the covers and crawled beneath.
He turned on the light. She flinched and made sure everything was covered, but he grabbed the comforter and yanked it all the way off the bed and threw it on the floor. “I haven’t dreamed of this moment for a month to do it in the dark under the covers.”
“What if I’m cold?” She crossed her arms over her breasts and wound her legs together.
“I’ll make you hot, I promise.” He pulled a strip of condoms out of his pocket and tossed them onto the bedside table. “I don’t have special pockets sewn into my clothes, but I did have emergency condoms in my car.” He stripped his shirt over his head, kicked off his shoes, and threw off the rest of his clothes so fast she giggled.
“That’s what you do? Laugh at me naked? Not cool.” He prowled onto the bed and loomed over her.
Her laugh died in her throat. He was so beautiful, and she wanted him so much. She couldn’t breathe or move or do anything at all except drink him in. He stretched out beside her and gathered her into his arms, and it felt as natural as breathing to embrace him. Her self-consciousness vanished.
Although she’d spent only two days with him, she’d missed this man and longed to smell the scent of sunshine and pine while warmth and light filled her chest. His wide palm cupped her belly, and she didn’t wince or care because he didn’t seem to notice the extra weight or the scar. His hand stroked up to her breast, and she felt nothing but desire as his fingers covered the faint purple lines on her flesh. He made her feel beautiful, and she wasn’t going to hold anything back tonight.
She rolled on top of him, rubbing her body against his and glorying in her softness and his strength. Catching his wrists, she raised them above his head and slid her palms over the slightly softer and paler skin on the inside of his arms. She lingered in his hollows, bending to press kisses to his ribs. Moving lower, she crouched between his thighs and gripped him.
“You’ve got thirty seconds,” he groaned.
She knew what she wanted. His skin was as soft and hard as she remembered, moving under her palm with a silken glide. He watched her, eyes heavy, jaw tight, breath coming in slow, measured pulls. She slicked her thumb over his tip and bent to taste him.
His long, low, rumbling groan encouraged her, and she licked, wetting her lips and sliding her tongue around him in a slow circle. She had to do it twice before she could comfortably fit him in her mouth, but then she took him deeper, moving up and down. As she did, her thighs rubbed together, making her aware of her own arousal. She lifted to take a breath, and he rolled her under him so fast she was on her back looking up before her lungs inflated.
“I
am a huge fan of ladies first, but I just hit my limit.” He reached for a condom and rolled it on. She raised her knees getting comfortable beneath him, and he grinned. “Or maybe not.”
He hooked his hands behind her knees and pressed them to her shoulders, bending to lick the exact spot between her thighs that was burning for him. She nearly screamed before she remembered rule number three.
As he laughed, puffs of air tormented her further. “Hang in there while I make sure you’re ready for me.” He did something with his fingers, and she pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle the noises she couldn’t seem to stop making. He kneeled between her thighs, gazing into her eyes. His fingers stroked into her, and she spiraled closer to the flames, spreading her legs wider as he settled on top of her. She felt the tip of him stretch her opening while his fingers continued to search out her secrets. Slowly, he filled her.
It was too much. Tension broke over her in shuddering waves of ecstasy, and she screamed, climaxing so hard her entire body curled toward him. Swiftly he took her mouth, swallowing her cries and pressing her down to the bed. He sank into her, and she clutched his shoulders and whimpered against his mouth.
“Shh…” he whispered, driving into her so hard she both felt and heard the slap of their hips. A sharp jolt of pleasure stunned her. He did it again, powering into her in a relentless rhythm that forced her higher, toward a peak she didn’t expect, a place she’d never been and had never thought to reach. Another. Again. One more.
He left her hanging, stranded, clinging to him as he paused, deep inside her. Her eyes opened wide, caught. They hung together, suspended.
He tensed for an endless moment before he lifted his hips and surged forward, pouring himself into her. She broke, too, convulsing in hard spasms. A few endless seconds later, he collapsed on top of her, crushing the breath from her lungs, but she didn’t mind. She couldn’t breathe, anyway. He tipped slightly to the side, and she sensed him doing something with the condom, but she didn’t care about that, either. She sighed, not wanting to return to reality.