Wylde (Arizona Vengeance 7)

The man was profusely apologetic as he backed away. I watched as he returned to his table, the woman he’d been with lit into him, and it was clear the tongue lashing he got would make an impression. He’d looked pretty hang-dogged after that.

But now, Aaron walks me to my door as he has the past two nights. He has been so low pressure I’ve been wondering if I’ve read him wrong. Maybe he only wants friendship, or maybe he’s being so cautious with me because he’s waiting on me to give him a sign.

All I really know for sure is I’ve been thinking about having sex with him way too much. Like I’m obsessing about it, to be honest.

I pull my keys out of my purse, preparing to invite Aaron in as I usually do. The night before last he accepted, and he came in to watch a movie with me. I’d ended up falling asleep on his shoulder.

Last night, he’d declined, stating he had an early workout planned with Tacker.

Before I can get the invitation out, though, Aaron takes my face in his hands—and I love so much when he does that because it puts me completely under his control—and presses his mouth to mine. As usually happens when this man kisses me, my circuits fry and go haywire. I have a hard time thinking, all rational thought melting into a puddle of goo. As always, my hands go around his neck to hang on as I simply kiss him back.

This is different. Usually, when we start to make out, it’s right before our evening is concluding and he knows he’s only going to let it go so far before he puts a stop to it. We’ve been getting bolder and bolder in our touches at night, and I know he leaves in some physical discomfort.

But Aaron initiates this kiss before we’ve even decided whether our date is over or will continue inside. The prospect that maybe he’s done waiting excites me, and I press in closer.

He moves a hand to the back of my head, grips a handful of hair, and slides his mouth to my neck. I shiver at the touch, his lips so damn skillful the barest touch causes a cascading ripple effect throughout me.

“Do you want to come in?” I gasp as his teeth scrape along the muscle running along the side of my neck.

His tone is low, soft, and barely audible. “You know if I come inside tonight, I’m going to take my shot at getting in your panties, right? I’m tired of wondering if my kisses make you wet.”

Oh, God.

Oh. My. God.

My legs turn rubbery. I’ve never heard Aaron be this direct before. He’s always been such a gentleman, keeping our conversations light and easy. He makes me laugh, and now he has me wanting to weep with desire. His dirty talk is so shocking I freeze with inaction. I have no clue how to even respond to that, except my body is demanding I accept his challenge. I can feel it right between my legs, the fact my panties are indeed damp right now is a testament.

All I can do is nod my understanding of the situation. It’s my tacit permission saying I’m more than willing for him to take that shot.

I take a deep breath and as I let it out, I turn from him to unlock my door. My mind races as I insert the key. Did I make my bed this morning? Are the sheets fresh? Should I excuse myself to brush my teeth first?

I open the door, then step across the threshold. Should I offer to open a bottle of wine? Do I bring out the Scrabble board?

No, wait… that’s horrible foreplay. Scrabble? Christ, you’re a damn dork, Clarke.

And oh my God… does he have condoms? Because I don’t…

Surely he does.

Think, Clarke. Think.

Okay, let’s start with wine… a glass to help me relax.

I turn to face Aaron, who’s shutting the door behind him. When I open my mouth to ask if he prefers red or white, he immediately fills it with his tongue.

Aaron is on me, inside of me. His hands hold tight to my waist as he turns me… backs me into the wall… and pins me there with the deepest, sexiest, most spine-tingling kiss I’ve ever received in my life. My fingers clutch his shirt, tightening and twisting the cotton between my claws for sheer leverage as I try to kiss him back with my best moves.

A low rumble sounds in his chest, then his mouth is on my neck, kissing down to my shoulder. His hands go around my back to slide under my shirt and stroke my skin.

Aaron’s mouth is magic, moving from my neck to my mouth. His tongue enthralls me, making me a slave.