Wild Addiction (Wild #2)(36)
Author: Emma Hart

He watches me as I approach him and pull my shirt over my head. I throw it on the stool and turn to him. I tug at his shirt and he lifts it off, dropping it on top of mine.

He stands in front of me, not touching me, his chest moving at the same rapid pace mine is.

“Are you asking me to fuck you on this bar?” he asks in a deep, ragged tone.

I step forward and hook my fingers over his belt. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

Without replying, he pulls me over to one of the booths, the one closest to the door.

I watch as he pulls down his jeans and pants, letting his cock spring free, and sits back on one of the leather chairs.

“Come here,” he says, holding his hand out. I take it and he brings me to him, rolling my jeans down my legs until I step out of them and my shoes. He pulls me on top of him and his cock rubs against my clit, making me clench. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you fuck me and show me how much you missed me?”

I gasp, but his kiss swallows it. His hands, firm on my hips, grind me against him until I can take no more of the slow heat of my body and slide him inside me. I rock against him, winding my fingers into his hair, and rest my nose alongside his.

Being connected to him as one silences all my thoughts. It eases the pain of being apart from him this weekend and sates what needed to be sated. Being this close, as close as we will ever be, eases the ache.

It means I can give him everything—everything we both need. Because this—this touch—is the one thing that makes perfect sense to us both.

This touch is the one thing that could save us from ourselves.

“My parents are in town in two days.”

I look up from the glove compartment of his car. “Say what now?”

Tyler glances at me. “They’re coming to see Tessa. They mentioned they wanted to meet you. If you’re free to do dinner.”

I bite my tongue. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? You just got back and I—”

“Don’t want to freak out on me already?” His lips quirk on one side. “Okay.” He parks the car, grabs his bag, and then takes my hand as we get out.

A cool breeze blows off the water of Elliott Bay as we walk along the waterfront. A few boats bob in the gentle motion of the water, the ferries docked and ready for their next journey.

“I have to go away for another shoot this week,” Tyler says, breaking our silence.

“Oh.” My heart sinks. “Where to?”

“Down to California. Santa Barbara. Where you shot last time?”

I nod.

“Come with me.” He stops and stands in front of me. “You have Day’s hen party in L.A. this weekend. My shoot is on Friday. We can stay over until Saturday. Then I’ll fly to Vegas and meet Aaron for his stag party.”

“Really? You’ll let me come with you?”

He nods and brings me in for a kiss. “Just…don’t run out mid-shoot again, okay?”

I open my mouth and close it again. “You might have to tie my legs together to guarantee that.”

“Can’t do that. I like them open too much,” he teases.

I bat his chest and walk again. “You’re so bad,” I sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, resting an arm over my shoulders. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t know. The time you bashed your pantry door in, maybe?” I glance at him.

His jaw ticks, and I smile. I nudge his side with my elbow, and he grumbles his sister’s name.

“She’s such a cow,” he mutters.

“Cow? Are you Brit-talking me again?”

“Would you like me to Brit-talk you?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“You mentioned the Brit-talking.”

“I asked you if you were. It wasn’t an invitation to Brit-talk me.”

“Bollocks,” he whispers in my ear. “Knob. Trousers. Knickers.”

“Say ‘knickers’ again.”

“Knickers,” he whispers, his breath seemingly hotter this time.

“That’s the sexiest damn word in existence.”

“Knickersknickersknickers!” he says louder.

I clap my hand over his mouth and laugh. “Hey, don’t go shouting that shit. I don’t want every girl here getting excited over your Brit-talk. That’s mine. You hear that, Tyler Stone? Your Brit-speak is mine.”

“Just my Brit-speak? I’m offended, my little American bitch.”

“You and your Brit-speak are mine.” I reach up and kiss him. He drops his arm to my waist and pulls me closer.

He drops his arm to my waist and pulls me closer. “Good,” he murmurs. “As long as you know that.”

“Me? You’re the one who needs to know it, shouting ‘knickers’ all over the place!”

His grin turns playful. “Watch it or I’ll have all these girls wanting to drop their knickers for me.”

I roll my eyes. “That ego.” I step from his arms and walk along the pier.

I rest my forearms against the railing and close my eyes against the gentle breeze. It’s noisy from the restaurant just behind us, but the sound of the wind drowns most of it out into a dull buzz.

My lips curve into the light chill, and I tilt my head back slightly. My hair teases around my cheeks, and I sigh happily.

Warmth covers my back, and two elbows rest alongside mine. Tyler’s mouth brushes along my cheek.

“You’re beautiful.” His words are a whisper but seem like a scream to me.

I run my fingers down his arm to where he’s holding his camera. Without saying a word, he tilts it so I can see the screen and brings up his last pictures. They’re of me leaning here, looking out at the water.

He rests his chin on my shoulder. “See? Beautiful. I could watch you do nothing all day.”

My lips twitch. “That would get boring after a while.”

“No.” His mouth touches my jaw. “Believe me. It’s not boring at all. I watch you even when you think I’m not. I can’t help myself. I have to know the exact curve of your jaw, the flutter of your eyelashes, the shape of your lips, the shade of your eyes. I have to know and I have to remember it, because when you’re not there, the memory is all I have.”

I lift my arm and curve my fingers around his neck from the front. “At least the memory can’t talk back.”

“Baby girl, the memories of you have nothing on the real thing.”