THE WILDE TOUCH: Book Two of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  “Of course not. I kept my word.” Alexandra offered the hundred dollars. “Thanks for asking around.”

  “I can’t take your money. I couldn’t find your friend.”

  “For your efforts and your silence.” Alexandra shoved the money into her hand.

  “Thanks, I could really use this.” Wendy stashed the cash. “Describe her. I’ll keep an eye out.”

  “Tall, gaunt, flyaway hair and very shy.”

  “Got it. Thanks for the tip.” The waitress left.

  After a long pull of the chilled wine, Alexandra tried to relax. Since moving back east nothing had gone as planned. Nothing. She tossed back another hearty sip and eyed the members milling about in their fancy duds and flirty smiles. Maybe I should join a matchmaking service. No, that would suck.

  At the top of the hour, couples scattered toward their suites. A woman strolled in. Baggy black clothes hung on her wiry figure and her melancholy eyes were framed in a purple mask. She locked eyes with Alexandra, her sullen expression sending shivers down her spine. When the woman turned to leave, Alexandra spied her bandaged hand and wrist. That was disturbing. Oh, hell, that was Sage. Go!

  Snatching her purse, Alexandra bolted into the hallway. Sage had whizzed past Jase’s office and ghosted around the corner. Alexandra hurried to catch up, but as soon as she rounded the bend, Sage ducked inside an alcove midway down the hall.

  Alexandra’s pounding heartbeat throbbed in her temples as she raced past members, finally reaching the spot where Sage had disappeared. Tucked inside the nook were two closed doors marked, “Linen Closet” and “Private”. Alexandra jiggled the locked handles. With clammy palms, she dug her keycard out of her clutch and held it against the linen closet’s wall sensor. The solid red light refused her access. She tried to gain access into the room marked “Private” with the same disappointing results. Why lead me here if I can’t get in?

  “What are you doing?” a deep voice growled behind her.

  Panicked, Alexandra whirled around. Hunter…Crockett! An explosive hunger lurked in his bright eyes, framed by the black leather mask.

  Her heart fluttered. All the logic in the world couldn’t slow the rush of emotion hurtling toward her. “Hello, Huntah.”

  As if stalking his prey, he halved the distance, forcing her to tilt her chin. She gobbled down his delicious scent in deep, calming breaths. Draping herself over him would be the perfect remedy to everything that ailed her.

  “Snagging extra soap or do you need a fresh towel?” Though he had tamed his accent, this time she heard it. His deep voice, paired with that subtle lilt, dripped with sex appeal. The timbre rumbled through her and found a home in the deepest part of her heart.

  Gorgeous. Sexy. Off-limits. Get it together. “No, I saw someone I’ve been concerned…” Her hands landed on her hips. “Are you stalking me?”

  He turned rigid, his playful expression fell away and his eyes narrowed behind his mask. “No, I’m not. If you knew me, you wouldn’t have asked that.”

  Her stomach plummeted. Oh, no. I’ve insulted him.

  “Have a good evening.” Crockett turned to leave.

  The door marked “Private” swung open. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Jase.

  She yanked Crockett into an embrace and flung herself against the wall, as if he’d pinned her there. Then, she kissed him. With everything she had. Because the passion needed to be real. As soon as her mouth melded to his, she didn’t have to fake a thing. She curled her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him flush against her with the other. In seconds, his erection pressed against her tummy. Her clit throbbed in anticipation as desire washed over her.

  On a deep growl, he ground against her.

  A quiet chuckle interrupted their passionate embrace. “You do know we have private suites, right?” Jase asked.

  Breaking the incendiary kiss, Crockett pulled back, but his eyes remained fixed on Alexandra.

  “If you’re into the full-blown make out session in the hallway, I think you’d enjoy our ‘High School’ suite.” Though Jase cracked a broad grin, his smile felt more like a warning. He flicked his attention to Crockett. “We’ve not met. I’m Jase Payne, General Manager.”

  Crockett rose to full stature, dwarfing Jase in his shadow. “Hunter.”

  Their handshake seemed charged with an excess of testosterone.

  Alexandra was the first to admit she didn’t understand the opposite sex, but this introduction had all the markings of two lions staking claim on a pride. Crockett’s stance screamed, “Don’t fuck with me.”

  Then, the shadow covering Jase’s eyes lifted and he threw an arm around each of their shoulders. “Come with me. I’ll personally find you a room.”

  11

  Irresistible

  Crockett tapped his fingers on the black leather armrest and studied Electra. Women baffled him, but this one set the bar so high a pole-vaulter couldn’t clear it. For the second time in three minutes, she’d peeked out the door of their suite and peered down the hallway. Calm, cool and collected had morphed into fidgety, jumpy and obsessed.

  He’d been enjoying a martini when he’d spied her at a table with Dracule. Despite her earlier rejection, he’d followed when she’d flown out of the lounge. Was he stalking her? Hell, no. Hunting her down? Maybe. Ensuring her safety? Dammit, yes. For some unknown reason, he wanted to protect her from Dracule. And Jase was scum sporting a slick suit and a slicker grin.

  Since kissing was taboo, she must’ve had a damn good reason for shoving her tongue in his mouth.

  “Since the GM booked us this room, I’m going to use it,” Crockett said, breaking the silence.

  She pivoted in his direction. “I don’t…it’s just that, I can’t…I’m not available.”

  Tripping over her words seemed unlike her. “I didn’t ask you to stay. Keep in mind if I’d fake kissed you, you might not have played along like I did. Lucky for you, I’m a good sport.”

  One tentative footstep after another, she inched toward him. “Thanks for doing that.”

  Crockett removed his Crockett & Jones dress boots and pushed out of the corner chair. With his gaze cemented on hers, he slipped out of his sport coat and draped it across the back of the chair. “I’ve been burning the midnight oil, so shut the door on your way out. I’m going to nap.” He rolled up his shirtsleeves.

  “You’re into rejuvenation?” Surprise tinged her voice.

  What happened to her accent?

  Instead of eating up the space between them, he slid his hand into his front pants pocket and stood his ground. “Rejuvenation, nap, snooze, whatever. The next time you find yourself in a pickle, my tongue is off limits.”

  On a chuckle, she edged a little closer.

  Her sweet sound touched him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. And he had the craziest desire to say something funny again, so he could hear her playful giggle.

  Crockett was not a game player. Never had been. Tonight, though, this game of cat and mouse seemed to be propelling her toward him. If he flat-out told her to leave, would she throw herself on him? They had the room and nothing but time. And she was so damned hot. The thought of caressing her silky skin and sinking inside her heat rocketed blood straight to his groin.

  One controlled step at a time, he closed the space between them until they stood inches apart. Though her flowery scent drew him in, he fought the urge to secure her in his arms and kiss her soft lips. Time to call her bluff.

  “Electra, good luck with your—what did you call it? Rejuvenation? And I hope you find the key to the linen closet.”

  Her mouth dropped open. With a firm grasp on her arm, he escorted her to the door. “Out you go.” He twisted the knob and pulled.

  Alexandra smacked the door closed. “I’m not leaving.” Despite rejecting his invitation to connect, fate had thrust them together. No way could she walk away from him.

  He turned toward her. “Then you can watch me sleep.”

&nb
sp; His intensity seared her. She was standing in “The Virgin” suite with the one man who’d taken hers. Masked in the illusion that sex between them meant nothing, could she risk stealing one more hour with him? And was she emotionally capable of reliving something that had once meant so much to her? Even she had her limitations. Sex with Crockett in “The Virgin” suite topped the list.

  The energy swirled around them, the undeniable need to be with him kept her feet anchored to the floor. Don’t let him go. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, like she meant it. Because, by God, she did. She’d already broken her “No kissing” rule. No going backwards now. Hungry for his mouth on hers and the way his tongue wound around hers, she anchored her arms around his hard body. His breathing roared in her ears. His delicious baseline scent filled her lungs. She ground against him and let her body say what she could not.

  Ravenous to be with him, she clawed at his clothing, desperate to get to his flesh. To feel his heat, his need.

  Clothing. Gone in seconds.

  His piercing gaze lit her insides on fire. Every nerve, every cell screamed out for him. For eleven long years she’d imagined being with him. And only him. She needed his hard body rooted in her soft one.

  His guttural groan ripped through her. Their tongues clashed. He bit her lip. She scraped her fingernails down his glorious back. His intensity thundered through her, leaving her thrumming with need.

  He broke the kiss, his breath coming fast. His magnificent chest expanded on every inhale. She wiped her mouth, already raw from his ferocity.

  “You’re a virgin,” he uttered. “We need to slow this down.”

  She didn’t want the role-play. She wanted him. She wanted to lose herself in everything Crockett Wilde, indulge in him without his knowing. Years ago, she’d readily given herself to him and she wouldn’t defile the loss of her innocence by pretending.

  Just because she knew the truth didn’t mean she’d play her hand. With a sultry smile, she curled her hand around his shaft and rubbed her thumb over its sensitive head. “Maybe you’re the virgin, Huntah.”

  The gleam in his eyes wasn’t wasted on her. He banded his arms around her, stroked her ass. “I’ll play this any way you want, Electra.”

  “No talking,” she blurted.

  Her body heated, not from his intensity, but from the realization that he might figure out who she was. Though ludicrous and far-fetched, she didn’t want to risk being discovered, or losing out on this…on him.

  “Kiss me again. And then take me. I need you inside me.” She skewered him with a hard stare.

  A gritty groan was his only response.

  Anchoring one hand on the back of her neck, he threaded the other around her waist. And then, he kissed her.

  They were incapable of going slowly. Their need cycloned through them, whirling them into a frenzy. Like two halves of a whole, their bodies said what they could not. Locked in a ravenous embrace, she half-stepped, half-dragged him toward the sofa. He allowed himself to be directed because his entire focus was on her. One hand fondled her breast, her nipple. The other stroked her slickened core.

  She could barely stand by the time they reached the sofa. Trembling and panting, her body throbbed with the need to release the pent-up energy. But she refused to give in to it, yet. When she pushed him onto the sofa, he smiled. His undeniable beauty sent a rush of heat blasting through her. Above all else, that smile—his smile—undid her. Always had. Always would.

  Despite her attempt to conceal her feelings, she smiled back. Not because she wanted to, but because she couldn’t control herself around this man. He deserved a slap across his gorgeous face for dumping her and sending her three thousand miles away when all she’d wanted was to stay with him. And love him.

  And his goddamn dick bobbed up and down like it was waving at her.

  She had to sheath him before she did something really stupid and climbed onboard. “Condom.”

  He started to rise, but she nudged him back. “Don’t move. I’ll do it.” She sashayed toward the night table.

  “My pants pocket.”

  She collected the three-pack and, on her way back to him, ripped open a packet. Seconds later, she’d covered him in latex and straddled him.

  Crockett Wilde was devastatingly handsome. Totally naked. And about to get fucked.

  With her hand around his shaft, she rose up, placed his head at her opening, and slid down on his thick cock. She cried out from the pleasure as her body molded around his shaft. He fit like he was meant to be there.

  Their first time had been romantic and tender. Crockett had taken control, because she’d been both innocent and naïve. But this time, she would take charge. She needed to keep things in perspective. They were in suite twelve of an erotic club. And he thought he was screwing a blonde named Electra.

  Once again, their mouths found each other and, as she glided on him, her body sang with ecstasy. Her strangled mewling swallowed by his intense kisses. He consumed her, ate her alive. And she melted into him.

  “Oh, yeah,” she whispered, her breath jagged. “You feel amazing, Cr—” Ohmygod.

  His eyes popped open. He gripped her hips, stilling her movement. “What?”

  “Crazy good, Huntah.” As a quick distraction, she raised her arms over her head, arched her back, and thrust her nipples inches from his mouth.

  “You are so sexy.” He placed his mouth over her plumped nib, suckling and biting one at a time. His groans and growls made her wetter, the climax whirling toward her at a reckless pace.

  Gliding faster, she rode him until the ecstasy of being with him became too much and the orgasm started deep in her belly. Her muscles clamped around his shaft. “Oh…oh, yes, that feels…oh, yeah, like that. Just like that.”

  Her fingernails dug into his flesh, the pleasure almost unbearable. “I’m gonna come.”

  He covered her husky cry with his mouth, grabbed her hips, and thrust to her end. Groaning and shuddering through her orgasm, she raked her nails along his shoulders.

  A fuck is a fuck, but not this one. This was wild and raw and amazingly satisfying.

  “Fuck, I’m coming.” When he emptied himself inside her, she devoured his grunts and groans with another explosive kiss. She could not get her fill of this man. Never could.

  Floating back to earth, she stared into his heavy-lidded eyes. Serenity had replaced the ferocity. The corners of his lips lifted. His happiness tore at her heartstrings. Time for another goodbye.

  She wanted to stay connected to him; to stare at his face, to drop kisses on his soft lips and chiseled cheekbones. But Electra would never linger. Moving slowly, she lifted off him. Rather than sitting next to him, she stood. “I should head out.”

  As if he had nothing but time, he soaked up her body with his heated gaze. He either liked what he saw or he wanted more. Either was acceptable. Once hadn’t been enough. Did he feel it, too? When their eyes met, the air crackled. She felt the insatiable tug she’d always felt whenever she was around him. She wanted to go to him again and draw his body into hers. And never ever let go.

  “I’m not going to invite you to connect again, Electra, so this is goodbye.”

  His words cut like a knife slashing through her soul. Unfiltered pain pierced her heart. Taking a step back, she crossed her arms. Sex with strangers satisfied a need without the emotional attachment. And she’d been damned successful at it, until now.

  Until Crockett.

  As she tried to cope with what was happening, she bit her lower lip to redirect her pain.

  “Tonight I was your alibi for whatever sleuthing you were doing,” he said. “Good luck with that and thanks for a fun evening.”

  Again, he was rejecting her. She had to get out of there, away from him. “Goodbye, Huntah.” She forced herself to walk away. Muscle memory kicked in. She collected her clothes. Only once she had locked herself and her runaway emotions behind the bathroom door, did she allow a single tear to fall.

&n
bsp; 12

  The Big Reveal

  Damn. How could this sexy stranger evoke so much raw passion? The distraction of the club had been good for Crockett, but he wouldn’t return. He didn’t have the desire or the time to become a player in a sex club. Goodbye, Electra.

  With clothing in hand, he entered the other bathroom. After flipping on the light, he shut the door and stared at himself in the mirror. Her fingernails had left red streaks down his shoulders. No fucking way.

  Years ago, Alexandra had scratched his shoulders during lovemaking. In the aftermath, she’d soothed his reddened skin with tender kisses. Her long dark hair had tickled his face while he’d suffocated in her floral scent. She’d smelled of wild flowers in a spring meadow. Like Electra.

  He palmed the vanity to steady himself. Then, he remembered how her laughter had touched him. That, along with her familiar flowery scent and now, the love scratches. Jesus, it’s her.

  Find her! He cleaned himself up, threw on his clothes, and hurried out. As he’d expected, she was gone. He strode to the elevator. Come on. Come on. The doors opened and he dashed inside.

  He did a three-sixty in the parking garage. Though packed with cars, he was alone. Dammit. Where is she? As he pulled onto the snow-covered street, a silver Prius spun out twenty yards ahead of him. Freezing snow had turned the pavement into a sheet of ice. The compact car skidded to a halt in the middle of the intersection. Ripping off his mask, Crockett parked at the curb and jumped out. He shuffled to the car and flung open the door.

  A shaken Alexandra, still masked and wearing her blonde wig, gaped at him with scared brown eyes.

  Crockett breathed. He’d found her. “We’ve got to get you out.”

  “Can you push my car out of the road?”

  He glanced up to see a van fishtailing down the hill toward them. With lightning speed, he unbuckled her, yanked her from the car and carried her across the slick road. They reached his truck just as the vehicle slammed into the driver’s side of her Prius, spun around, and continued sliding down the street.