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She always sticks with me.
Obviously she’s mine. Everyone knows it—even Paul who also pissed me off today. Why the actual fuck did she wear that outfit? It was practically see-through.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it was very fucking thin, and there wasn’t a lot that could be ignored.
Her body was showcased.
Her ass was practically begging to be touched.
Then those signature combat boots of hers just set it all off like a wet dream.
Every guy out there—sans the married and the family—momentarily forgot she was a Wild One and also forgot she was mine.
Guys around here aren’t going after the Wild Women.
Crazy, remember?
Plenty of less crazy women are around town and completely single. So the Wild Girls don’t usually get that sort of attention, even if some of them are the hottest in town. Most believe the crazy-to-hot scale is tilted too far in the wrong direction.
Personally, I wouldn’t be able to be with anyone but Lilah. Life would be too boring.
Groaning, I curse myself. I had my opportunity, and Bill made me piss it away over those damn beards.
Though I might have gotten annoyed with Lilah’s complete disinterest in the beard, even I have to admit it had gotten unsanitary. Eating became a chore when you had to tie back half the hair just to get the food to your mouth. A lot of fucking pointless grooming too, considering I never wanted a beard that big.
Leaning back into the spray of the shower, I blow out a breath. I really hope she doesn’t wear those skimpy shorts around me ever again.
Next time, I may just go through with pulling them to the side and fucking her until she realizes she’s been mine for three fucking years, even if neither of us realized it then.
For now, my hand goes to my cock, and I replay this morning out completely differently. My hand moves as I picture Lilah waking up on top of me, grinding just the way she did.
Only this time, no phone rings. I fist a handful of her hair with one hand, and my other hand rips those fucking shorts to the side, giving me a peek at the part of her body I want to touch with every part of my body.
I thrust into her, and she calls out my name, while her nails scrape down my chest.
That’s as far as I get before my knees try to buckle and pleasure spikes through my spine. My eyes roll back in my head, and my body grows lax as the hot water washes away yet another Lilah Vincent fantasy.
I hear that loud ass Jeep of her aunt’s coming down the road, and a grin curls my lips.
Maybe the fantasy can finally be the real fucking thing.
She can’t hide behind my beard any longer.
Chapter 6
Wild Ones Tip #129
A surprised Wild One is always a wildcard.
Carry a helmet and condom just in case—you never know which one you’ll need.
LILAH
I drive back to Benson’s house, warily scouring my surroundings. I keep expecting my brothers to pop out at any minute.
Maybe they’re still warming up.
I pull up to his house, still half expecting the two revenge seekers to hop out with scissors and cut my hair off.
When nothing happens, I bang on the back door. Or front door. I’m not really sure which is the back or front, considering the lake is used more in the summer than the roads, in Benson’s case.
“Give me a second,” I hear Benson calling out from above me. “I just got out of the shower.”
Don’t think dirty thoughts. Don’t think dirty thoughts.
I look up, but I can’t see the second floor because of the porch roof.
“Why’d you lock the doors?” I ask.
“Your brothers.”
Ah. Gotcha.
“I was wondering where you went,” he calls down.
“Sorry. Figured I’d better grab some clothes before those two thawed and came after me. Then went to town, since I had to drive around. We should have taken two boats this morning.”
He grows quiet, and I wonder where he is, until the door suddenly swings open in front of me, and three things happen at once.
My mouth dries.
My heart tries to kick out of my chest.
My entire body takes notice of the fact I’m definitely a woman.
I eye the man before me, taking in the towel on his bare shoulder. My gaze shamelessly rakes over all the contours and outlines of the hard body he’s been hiding away.
Abs. Benson Nolans has abs. Six of them, to be exact.
Those fancy sweats are hanging off his hips, revealing the all-too-mouthwatering V that disappears behind the waistband, teasing me with what lies at the end.
My eyes snap up, and that’s when I see a man too sexy to be natural. Benson Nolans has a face my vagina wants to get to know.
Gone is the wiry, unkempt, bushy beard. In its place is an intentional, trimmed and neat beard that outlines a strong, masculine jaw. His nose even looks sexier.
