Wild Kisses (Wildwood 2)

He exhaled heavily, rubbed his forehead against her hair, fisted the hand at her hip. “We can’t. You know we can’t.”

“No. I don’t.” She laid her hands against his shoulders and pushed back. Would have looked him in the eye, but his were cast down. “Give me one good reason. One. Other than the fact that I’m not as hot as your usual hookups.”

His eyes lifted and locked on hers with anger flashing. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. And you know why. I’m too old for you. Too screwed up for you. Shit, I work for you.”

“What you are is an idiot, and I said a good reason.” Hurt joined her anger. “I may not have the experience of your usual flings, but I learn fast. It may not be the best sex of your life, but if you tell me what you like, what you want, I’ll make sure you’re not disappointed. And you don’t have to worry about me holding on. I’ve been permanently cured of wanting any kind of commitment.”

“Jesus Christ.” He rubbed his forehead, his voice soft, his expression pained, his gaze sympathetic. “Slow down, honey. I think you might have had a little too much of that expensive wine—”

Anger seared a path down her breastbone. She picked up the bottle and shoved it into his hand. “Have I?”

He tilted the bottle, and through the light-gray glass, no one could mistake it was still more than three-quarters full.

“If you don’t want me, then just be man enough to say you don’t like what you’ve tasted. That you prefer something different. But don’t use bullshit excuses, and don’t put it on me.”

Holding the tattered threads of her dignity together, she pushed against his shoulders and tried to stand, which she immediately realized would be more than a little awkward in these heels. But before she could even get one foot underneath her, Trace gripped her waist and hauled her back to his lap. Then slid his hand around the nape of her neck and held his gaze on hers.

“I never said I didn’t want you.” His voice was gravelly, serious, and edged with something emotional—pain, anger, something . . . “I want no one but you. I haven’t been able to think of anyone but you. I’ve been trying to avoid exactly this for two goddamned months because I have a job to do here. One that means a whole new life for you. One that means a whole new start for me. And I’m trying like hell not to fuck that up for either of us.”

Stunned by his admission, her heart dropped to her stomach. All her anger drained, leaving behind hurt, confusion, and shame. She dropped her focus to his chest with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t been thinking about anyone but me. I’m such a—”

He pulled her in and kissed her quiet. “You’re always thinking about everyone else.” He kissed her again, tasting her in a way that reached between her legs and pulled. “You’re perfect.” He turned his head and kissed her the other way. “You’re beautiful and sweet and so fucking strong you amaze me.” Both hands slid into her hair, and his fingers fisted. The sting radiated along her scalp and made her gasp. Trace drank the sound and did things to her mouth with his tongue that made her writhe against him, then broke the kiss suddenly. “Your ex-husband was the biggest fucking idiot on the face of the planet.”

That made her laugh. A breathless, dizzy laugh that filled her with warmth from the toes up.

And he kissed her again, this time pulling away to say, “This is a really, really, really bad idea.”

“Maybe.” She scraped her upper lip between her teeth, hoping to quell the butterflies in her stomach. “But none of the ideas I thought were good ever panned out very well, so . . .” She shrugged, scanned his face again until she met his gaze, then forced herself to hold it. Forced herself to own this decision. “Guess I’m really, really, really ready to try a bad one.”

“Jesus Christ.” He dropped his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “You’re fucking fearless.”

She huffed a laugh, picked up his hand, and pressed it over her crazily beating heart. “I’m not fearless. I’m just less afraid of being with you than I am of hating myself because I passed up the chance.”

She couldn’t read all the emotions that rushed across his face or filled his eyes. Only knew they seemed to spill into her body and tangle with her own to make her heart trip and her pulse speed.

“This could backfire big-time,” he said. “You know that.”

She shook her head and stroked his face with both hands, then ran her thumbs over his stubbled cheeks. “We won’t let that happen.”

He slid his arms around her and stroked his hands up her back, warm and rough against her bare skin. Then he pulled her in and kissed her again, his mouth gentler now, the kiss filled with the kind of emotion that had been missing in her marriage for so long she wondered whether it had ever been there.

Avery sank in, wrapped her arms around his neck, and soaked it up like a sponge. So needy after going without for so long.

Trace’s hands caressed her back, raising gooseflesh and tightening her nipples, before sliding down again, his fingers tugging on the bow holding her dress together. Avery tensed as Trace leaned back and let the sheath fall away until the fabric rested at her hips and she was all but naked on his lap. His gaze seemed to scour her forever while his hands fisted and released in the fabric pooled at her hips.

Avery found it increasingly hard to breathe as negative thoughts pinged through her mind. Her breasts were too small. Her body too boyish. She was too ordinary. The other women he slept with were hot and sexy and curvy—she’d heard the rumors. Seen them, with their long legs and big boobs, come by the site now and then, looking for him.

But then he breathed, “Holy hell.” His hands moved back up her body, warm and strong and sure, making her belly flinch, her breasts tighten. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

And as if he couldn’t wait another second, he pressed his face between her breasts, his mouth open and hot on her skin.

FIVE

Everything seemed to speed and spin around Avery, yet details stood out in relief. The thick, silky feel of his hair between her fingers as she held him close. The spicy, clean scent of his skin as she pressed a kiss to his jaw. The heat of his body warming h

er everywhere.

He closed his mouth over the side of one breast and worked his way around to the other side before pulling her nipple into his mouth and sucking with a deep moan of pleasure in his throat. Her breath caught, her back arched, and Avery was instantly lost in a swirl of lust that had been repressed for far too long.