Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones 1)

Even in my head, I’m trying to justify my mostly indecent and completely impractical wardrobe choice. Damn Benson. What’s he doing to me?

His eyes snap back up to meet mine.

“You decided to get revenge dressed like that?” He gestures to…all of me.

“Easier to run in,” I lie.

Either he buys the lie, or just doesn’t care enough to press for more. He walks by me, heading to his den.

“I figured you’d changed your mind about coming over when you didn’t show up. Now I realize you were just waiting on them to be dead to the world.”

I remove my boots, thinking back on all the poor logic in my plan. Both of them waking up while I was cutting their beards was not part of the plan. That almost caused cardiac arrest.

“I was really hoping you were still awake,” I say on a sigh. “I should have told you it’d be late.”

“You’re going to need to stay here for more than a night.”

I nod, agreeing. They’re way more pissed than even I expected.

And I’m not losing my hair, damn it.

Benson drops to the couch, stretching one long leg to his coffee table, before hitting play on the TV. I go to curl up right against his side, and don’t think about it until after he goes stiff.

Seriously. What is wrong with me?

We always touch, but I’m practically all over him right now.

His arm comes around my shoulders, and I stop thinking. If I’m attracted to a guy with a beard, then I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m okay with that.

But…Benson. I can’t do that with Benson.

First of all, he doesn’t date girls around here. Secondly, he’s a friend. One of my best friends, oddly enough.

I need to stop having weird reactions to him.

“You tired?” he asks, shifting so that I’m even closer, practically on top of his side.

“No. I will be when the adrenaline wears off though.”

He laughs softly, his arm growing more relaxed around me.

“You need your laptop?” he asks.

“It’s in my bag.” I gesture to the abandoned backpack near the door. “I made sure to pack the essentials, just in case.”

“Good thinking,” he says, a smile to his voice.

“Thanks for the protection.”

“You’ll owe me after this is all over. They’re pissed now, but wait until tomorrow.”

A grin forms on my lips as the adrenaline slowly wears off. I’m not sure when it happens, but at some point I feel him shifting again, and before I know it, he’s nothing more than a pillow under me.

Chapter 4

Wild Ones Tip #327

Always watch your back. Or at least have someone crazy enough to watch it for you.

LILAH

I jolt awake to the loud blaring of music, and arms tighten around my waist as Benson wakes up too.

Yep. I slept on top of Benson.

I’m not going to lie; I’m very tempted to grind against him right now, because he totally has morning wood, and it’s pressed right against the vee of my thighs. My thighs that are spread shamelessly over him, because somehow I straddled him in my sleep.

I sit up, and he takes a second to look at me, confused, then down to where I’m straddling his lap, and back up to my eyes. He scrubs his face as that music starts playing again, and he looks over to where it’s coming from.

Stupid phone.

We’re together all the time, and I rarely see that phone. Now, in a matter of days, I’ve seen it constantly.

He grabs it, putting a hand on my hip when I try to get up. I stay put instead of moving as he answers.

“Bill,” he says, his voice causing me to inwardly moan.

Why does he sound so sexy right now?

That beard…does nothing for me. Yet it’s taking all my strength not to pull his pants down and relieve the ache he’s left me with.

It doesn’t make sense. I didn’t have any reaction at all to Liam.

And he’s gorgeous!

Yet Benson has me physically aching.

Wait…Bill? Uncle Bill?

Quickest libido killer in history.

Benson smiles as he sits up, still keeping me in his lap.

“Yeah. She’s here. Spent the night after the guys chased after her.” He looks at me and winks, and I get more comfortable on his lap, maybe wiggling more than necessary.

That has him tensing.

Talk about mixed signals.

“We’ll head right over.”

I get up as he puts his phone away. “Your uncle is calling a meeting at his house,” he says as he stands.

“Right now?”

“Apparently we were the last to be called. Half the people are over there now, so yeah,” he says, running his fingers through his shaggy, black hair. “Now.”

I grab my backpack, cursing myself when I see I packed a lot of sleeping things, but nothing to wear. Deciding not to give a damn, I grab my toothbrush, hairbrush, and a ponytail holder, and rush upstairs behind Benson.

He barely turns around when I follow him into the bathroom.