Wild Temptation (Wild #1)(51)
Author: Emma Hart

And I hate how right she is. That’s why you should never have a best friend, for the record. They see the bullshit you don’t and they can tease you into believing with your words.

The only problem is that, while staring at that handsome British man slowly trying to step away from the woman across him, I want to. Believe him. I want to believe every word he whispers in my ear and mumbles against my lips. I just wish it weren’t so hard to give someone your everything when a part of you believes you’re their nothing.

Mercifully, the song ends and Tyler finally disengages himself from Brunette Bitch. He crosses the room forcefully, determinedly. When he reaches me, his hands find my back and my neck. He draws me to him, his mouth hot against mine. Certain and determined. Knowing and seductive.

I melt into him. There’s nothing else I can do. My hands curl around the lapels of his jacket and pull him to me as firmly as he’s holding my body against his.

Tyler Stone is everything I forbid myself from.

He is the only thing I’ve ever truly fought myself from. And I fear, deep down to my bones, that my fight is as futile as that of an ant’s against a footstep.

I tremble when he touches me. It’s a quiver I feel throughout my body. He has a deadly kiss. One that could end me as quickly as it enlightens me.

“Don’t ever make me do that again,” he hisses into my ear.

“I won’t,” I answer truthfully.

Do I ever want to see him with his arms around another woman? No. Not at f**king all.

“Good,” he replies. He wraps both of his arms around me and holds me tight to him. “I’m punishing you for that, by the way.”

“I’m not sure your idea of punishing is synonymous with mine.” My hands fist his jacket as I mumble into his chest.

“You’ll find out later.” He turns his face to mine and brushes his lips against my temple.

His hold on me is so strong and steady that I couldn’t break away if I tried. If I wanted to—which I don’t. There’s comfort in being enveloped against his firm body. I’m not a cuddler, not really, but I’d happily stay in Tyler’s arms and be cuddled by him for hours.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks me, barely releasing me.

I glance at the bar and my empty glass. Well. “Please.”

“Wine? Or are you sticking to the strong stuff?” A grin spreads across his face.

“Fuck off.” I jab him in the stomach and step away from him. So the vodka made him dancing with that woman a little more bearable. My stomach didn’t sink quite as much as it would have otherwise.

Tyler raises his eyebrows and orders us some drinks. His ability to do so without taking his eyes from mine is incredible. Really. It’s a wonder the girl behind the bar isn’t bitch-slapping him for his rudeness.

It’s a wonder I’m not bitch-slapping him for the uncomfortable feeling his intense gaze is filling me with.

“It’s okay to look somewhere other than at me,” I snap, grabbing my glass of wine. Sure. We’ll go with the verbal bitch-slap, Liv.

“I know, but the view isn’t nearly as good,” he responds smoothly. “Let’s go and sit down.”

I move to the nearest table, but he grasps my upper arm and leads me to the corner.

“Over here.”

I bite my tongue and let him take me there. Of course we’ll sit in the corner. Why would we come to a party and actually be a part of it? Such a ridiculous thought.

“Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

He glances up at me from his seat. “Sit down, Liv.”

“I’m fine standing.”

“Sit the f**k down before I pull you down.”

“You’re really quite controlling sometimes, you know that?”

“Only because you’re disobedient.” His lips twitch.

“But I obey in bed and that’s where it matters.” I sit down and turn away from him.

He laughs. “Do you know you do this thing where one minute you really like me then the next you’re bitching at me like you’re at the height of your period and someone stole all the chocolate?”

“Yes. It’s one of my better qualities.”

Another laugh. “I agree. Your feistiness turns me on. A lot.”

My eyes drop to his pants. No kidding. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Yes.” He takes my glass from me and sets it on the table. Then he grabs my chair and yanks it toward him.

I grasp the edge of the table to stop myself from falling off of it from the sudden movement. Unnecessarily, because Tyler hooks an arm around my waist and holds me to him.

“I want you to admit something,” he breathes against the back of my neck.

Every word makes my hair stand on end. “Admit what?”

“Admit how much my dancing with…whatever her name was…bothered you.”

“I told you to go.”

“In spite of that, Liv. When I looked at you—which I did, a lot—I could see it in your eyes.”

“What ‘it’?” I wriggle to get away, but he holds me closer. His other hand slides down my thigh and inside it, running up until his thumb is close to brushing my pu**y.

“Fear,” he whispers.

I swallow. That’s ridiculous…but plausible. Sure, I wasn’t acknowledging it at the time, but I was a little afraid. Of what? I don’t know. I just know I was.

Maybe I was—and am—afraid of losing something I won’t let myself have.

I cover his hand with mine at my side, sliding my fingers through his and closing my eyes. “What are we doing?”

“We’re wingin’ it, baby girl. Totally f**king winging it.”

I couldn’t have put it better.

I have had… Wait? How many glasses of wine? I’m not sure. Let’s say I decided to wisely stop counting at four. Yes, I decided to stop. I didn’t lose count or anything. Nope. I haven’t had that many.

I giggle to myself. So I’m on the drunker side of merry, but whatever. It’s been one of those nights where I’m feeling more than I want to, and the alcohol is a great number. Wine is a great number. And friend. It’s a very, very good friend. You know why? It doesn’t tell me to pull my head from my ass. It just goes on down and hugs me with warmth. Yep.

I’m sacking my best friend and hiring Sauvignon Blanc.

“I think someone needs to go home.” Tyler’s words crawl over my neck with his hot breath.