Some like It Wild (The Wild Ones #2)(18)
Author: M. Leighton

When she doesn’t finish, I prompt her. “What? Spit it out? What should I know?”

She struggles with how to phrase whatever she’s getting at. I watch her small, white teeth chew nervously at her bottom lip. It’s distracting as hell. Makes me wish she’d finish her story and then ask me to lick her from head to toe.

Although I doubt that’s likely.

At least not tonight.

Maybe tomorrow night . . . If I can get her to stay . . .

When she still doesn’t speak, I bark, “Damn, woman! Out with it.”

“Look, I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that people see you as a . . . a . . . kind of a wild guy.”

“Seems like I’ve heard that a time or two, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

She shrugs. “Well, my parents know that I’m working on your family’s estate, and . . .”

“Ahhh, and they don’t like you associating with the likes of me,” I finish for her.

“It’s not really that. I mean, I told them it was just work, but . . .”

“But what?”

“But they don’t believe me, of course. At least not after Sunday.”

“Why? What happened Sunday?”

“Well, you dropped me off at the curb and I had to walk in wearing a hoochie outfit, carrying my church clothes. It doesn’t make a very convincing argument for professionalism.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Those were hoochie clothes?” I nod. “Good to know.”

“To me they are. To my parents, they definitely are!”

“So the parents think I’m corrupting you?”

She shrugs. “I suppose so. They know I’m not that girl.”

“The kind that wears hoochie clothes,” I say, trying to hide my grin.

“Right. And goes to fun parties and indulges in meaningless flirtation.”

“Maybe they don’t know what kind of girl you are. ’Cause Sunday, you sure seemed like you were okay being ‘that girl.’”

“That’s exactly the problem. They know it’s not like me. So . . .”

“They think it’s me.”

“Right.”

“And the preacher disapproves.”

“Very much so.”

“And this is why you’re in my bed? You’re sticking it to the preacher by making it look like I’m sticking it to you?”

She gives me the stink eye, and I grin.

“No one is sticking anything to anybody.”

“That’s a damn shame, too.”

She looks surprised when she giggles, like she wasn’t expecting it. Couldn’t control it.

When her smile dies, she asks, “Are you gonna let me finish?”

“Of course. You have my full attention,” I say, narrowing my eyes on her. She gives me a dubious look then rolls her eyes and continues.

“Anyway, after my parents and I discussed where I was, who I was with, and why, we got into an argument. You see, they don’t know why Shane and I broke up.”

“Shane’s Mr. Perfect?”

Another withering look.

“Anyway, long story short, they didn’t like that we broke up, they didn’t like that I was with you, and they took it upon themselves to fix it. So after I came here and worked on the estate all day Monday, I went home to find that they’d invited Shane for dinner. Without even asking me. They totally ambushed me. Wanted us to talk so they could all tell me how stupid I’m being and how wrong I am to throw what we had away. So I left. And I haven’t been back since.”

“They brought the guy in behind your back?” She nods solemnly. “Damn, that was a pretty shitty thing for them to do.”

“I thought so, too. It’s like they just can’t understand. Or don’t want to. They see what they want to see, no matter how wrong or biased,” she says bitterly.

“Over the years I’ve learned that most people are judgmental as hell. They may think they’re not. And some probably even try not to be. But most are. It’s human nature.”

“I try really hard not to be like that.”

“And I think you do a good job. The fact that you’re here right now shows that you’re not as bad as most. Especially in this town.”

She raises big, sorrowful, blue eyes to mine. “I’m sorry people have been so unfair to you and your sister.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Nah, don’t be. We’ve earned most of it. I’ve pissed off enough people in this town to get that ‘trouble’ label fair and square.”

“Is that all you did? Piss people off?”

I reach out to glide my fingertips up one of her smooth calves. “There might’ve been a few corrupted daughters and compromised wives in the mix. I can’t remember just now.”

“Compromised wives?” she balks.

“Hey, I was young. And they were . . . needy.”

“Oh my gosh! You really are a bad boy.”

“Don’t wilt on me now. You were so close.”

“Close to what?”

“Coming to the dark side.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You can sense how much fun it is to stop worrying about what other people think, to just enjoy life as much as you can. We only have a handful of short, sometimes painful days on this earth. You’ve gotta take your pleasure where you can get it.”

“Is that what you’re offering me? Pleasure?”

I sit up and lean toward Laney. She doesn’t back away, just watches me. I can hear as much as feel that she’s holding her breath. “Isn’t that enough?”

I edge in closer and lick over her bottom lip with my tongue.

“I don’t know,” she says softly.

“It can be. You just have to let it. You just have to realize that you’re better off without love. It makes people weak. It makes people lose their common sense and they end up hurting each other. Listen to you! Love has brought you nothing but pain and suffering. But I can make all that go away. I can take your mind off the hurt. Make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. You just have to let me.”

“I don’t know if I can just jump right in like this,” she whispers.

“That’s okay. Jumping can be fun, but so can . . . exploring. As long as we’re on the same page, with the same expectations, we can’t go wrong,” I assure her, reaching forward to circle my fingers around her upper arm and tease the curve of her breast with my thumb.