To Tempt a Wilde (8 page)

She clutched at him, placing both hands at the back of his head, trying to push him away, but he continued his deadly assault, his caresses alternating between long, easy glides of his tongue to sharp, flickering darts.

Her head tossed on the floor as she issued sexy little cries of distress, her fingers gripping
his forearms so tightly he knew he'd have marks in the morning, but he didn't care.

Her mewling cries of feminine distress grew, her body tightening, a fine tremor invading her limbs. A glance upward, and he saw her head as it tossed on the floor, her long lashes fanning her cheeks as she kept her eyes closed, accepting his oral loving.

 

The sudden feel of his velvet smooth tongue against
the tightening bud of her clit, and Althea's body no longer belonged to her. She cried out, her body completely
bowing, the release so close she felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.

When he covered her entire mound with his mouth and kissed her, she let go.

Her body fell back as she gave in to the mind-blowing release, screaming as she came.

By the time her release was complete, when the
violent tremors had left her body, she felt him centered between her opened legs.

Taking deep, panting breaths in an effort to calm her racing heart, she opened her eyes and met Nate's hot gaze, the look in them sending a fresh wave of tremors throughout her body.

He rose, lifted her from the floor and carried her through the cottage toward the bed.

W
hen Althea felt the bulbous end of his shaft press against her slick folds, a semblance of normalcy returned.

And with it a dash of unwanted but needed reality; she wasn't on birth control.

“Stop,” she murmured as she felt his shaft begin to press past her swollen lips.

“Baby…what?” he panted, his arms braced on either side of her body. A glance into his eyes showed the strain
and effort it took for him to even speak.

She closed her eyes and bit at her bottom lip.

“I…I'm not on anything,” she said, swallowing down the sting of disappointment. “Protection, I mean. I'm not on the Pill.”

She felt his chest rise and fall against hers but didn't venture a look up at him. When she felt his body shift slightly away, she opened her eyes to see him opening the side drawer
of the night table.

After a few moments of impatient fumbling, he came back to her, a small foil package in his hands, his light brown eyes staring down at her, a gleam of masculine triumph within their depths.

“I suppose it's the smart thing to do, keeping protection so handy,” she murmured, pulled out of the moment slightly, not sure if she should be jealous that there were condoms available
on standby.

He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “I've never used these. They were just put there by one of my brothers, probably trying to be funny.”

The explanation, although succinct, was strangely satisfying.

When he brought their mouths into close contact, slanting his mouth over hers and pressing his slick tongue inside, Althea forgot all about the odd jealousy, giving herself
over to the moment, the two of them, his big body draped over hers, their bodies, hot, pressed close.

Placing his hands beneath the bend of her knees, he opened her body wide, sliding between her bent knees; she felt the knob of his shaft against her mound. With featherlike strokes he rubbed it against her moist lips, nudging them apart, asking for entry.

With a moan she pressed against him,
wrapping her legs around his waist, silently given her permission.

The minute he began to feed her his shaft, her body began to shiver uncontrollably. Her hands came out to clamp tightly on his powerful forearms, stilling his invasion.

“Wait…wait,” she panted, swallowing deep. “It's been a long time…oh God,” she moaned when she felt his
finger come out and rub her clitoris over and over until
her cream eased down, saturating his finger.

“I don't know how much longer I can wait, Althea.” His voice was a coarse rumble against her ear.

She moaned, tossing her head on the pillow, and he slowly began to penetrate her.

“I'll go easy on you, baby.”

The erotic promise made her body tremble. She bit her bottom lip to prevent the cry when he grabbed her hips, slowly feeding her more of his
turgid shaft. One final thrust and he was deep inside her. Her breath came out in hitching gasps as her body adjusted to his hardness.

He swallowed her cry as his hands reached around and lifted her bottom high, bringing her hips into tight, hot alignment with his.

“Nate…” she cried softly, as he began the slow drag and pull inside her body.

 

Her soft whispers and cries, the sight of her
eyes closed, mouth partially opened as he pressed inside her body, made Nate's balls tighten and his cock grow harder inside her slick heat.

With a grunt, he lifted her higher, her body coming completely off the bed, and rocked steadily into her, over and over until her moans grew to cries of feminine surrender as he steadily plunged inside her sweet heat.

On and on he rocked into her, their
bodies slapping against each other, her soft cries the only sounds in the room.

Glancing down at her past the haze of lust and sweat, her smooth brown body glistening with their combined
moisture as she ground against him, his thrusts became deeper, so deep her head kept grazing against the headboard.

Deftly he eased her body down, never losing connection with her, their bodies in perfect symphony
as he powered inside of her.

He wanted to string out the pleasure, make her as hot for him as he was for her, but the feel of her walls milking his shaft was his undoing.

And when he felt her small hands reach down and lightly grasp his sac, it was over.

Her light touch made his body tighten, sweat fall from his face down to her body.

He pumped inside of her in tight rhythmic thrusts, no longer
able to maintain control. He felt her orgasm sweep over her. Her body jerked as she screamed, her legs tightening on his waist urging him to his own release.

Nate waited as long as he could, gritting his teeth as her walls clenched his shaft, until with a tight groan he let go.

From a distance he heard her cry out again, and grabbing her by the hips he flipped her over, angling his shaft back
inside of her and thrusting.

With three more pumps deep inside her he felt his orgasm jet from his body as he reared back, bellowing out his release, the muscles in his neck corded, veins pulsing as he finally gave in to the mind-blowing release.

He slumped down on top of her. Sweat mingling, their bodies clung together. Reluctantly he pulled out
of her, turned her so that she faced away from
him, her bottom nestled against his groin.

He felt her stir after long moments, and brought her around to face him.

“That was…that was amazing,” she whispered, almost shyly. “Thank you,” she said softly and immediately blushed.

When his cock stirred again, he lifted her leg, laying it over his, repositioning her body.

“We're not done, yet,” he said, smiling in satisfaction when her eyes widened,
her lips forming a perfect O.

A
s Reggie's fingers flew across one of the library's keyboards, he was thankful for the computer and technology classes he'd been forced to take while serving time, years ago.

Although he was quite sure the administrators over at the education system at the federal pen had no idea he'd taken the skills he'd learned in computer operations and become so proficient at hacking into
main systems. Something else he'd learned while serving time, though not from the instructor.

Never being one to allow an opportunity to pass by, he'd discovered a fellow inmate with a very marketable skill: hacking computer systems.

Even though Reggie found the man distasteful, using his skills for petty crimes, he'd latched on to him and sucked him dry of all the information he could. Adept
at learning, after his stint it hadn't taken him long before he'd also used the skill to alter his record.

During his eighteen-month stay at the pen for embezzling, he'd used the remainder of the time to reinvent himself. Voraciously reading everything he could get his hands on, from business skills to high society, an idea began to form.

It had sprung forth during black history month, of all
times.

He giggled lightly as he continued his search.

He'd read about a successful African-American man named Charles Dayton, his story fascinating Reggie, in the lifestyles section of the newspaper. He'd been a pioneer in investment banking and also one of the first African Americans to excel as he had in the field.

There, a plan had begun to hatch. Particularly when he saw the man had a beautiful
and single daughter. He had taken his time, learning everything he could about Charles Dayton and his daughter, Althea.

Learned that she was the closest person to him; whenever he saw one of them in a news clipping, he saw the other.

They were two regular peas in a pod, he thought with a sneer.

Not that any of that had mattered.

As his fingers flew across the keyboard he laughed lightly.

She could have been buck-toothed and married and none of it would have mattered, he thought, a chuckle escaping.

There. He had her!

Hmm…so, she wasn't quite as smart as she thought she was.

She'd gone to Wyoming…he squinted his eyes, scanning the screen. Landers, Wyoming, not Montana, as she'd wanted him to think.

It was all a part of her game. A game of cat and mouse.

In her arrogance she
didn't realize he knew more about her than she thought he did.

When she left, she'd started using her mother's maiden name, as though that would hide her from him.

He'd come so close that last time to getting her back. So close to getting her to come back, marry him, sign the documents he needed to give him access to her father's fortune.

He sat back in the chair, his thin lips pursed, a small
smile on his face. The smile dropped when he remembered the first time he'd found her after she'd left him. Hiding behind a counter, cowering from him in that cheap motel.

He'd lost it. Dragging her from behind the counter, his anger had gotten the best of him, and in the ensuing fight, he'd banged her head against the counter. The memory of the deep gash and gushing blood from the cut filled
him with satisfaction.

She shouldn't have hidden from him.

He loved her. Besides the money, he loved her. She was his. The sooner she realized that, the sooner they could go on with their lives and end this craziness.

Now she was using her mother's middle name, Dayton, on the fake identification she'd gotten. But
it was her. He could tell from the picture—although grainy, it was her.

He ran
his finger over the screen, over the blurry image.

He'd been careful at first, had hired a few…old acquaintances to find her. His lips curled in disgust. All they'd managed to do was scare her, make her more vigilant and harder to find the next time.

But now he trusted no one. He knew it was up to him to find her, bring her back home, and everything would return to normal.

 

In the afterglow
of perfect lovemaking, Althea's body felt like butter. Liquid. Boneless.

Land o' lakes all the way, she thought, a smile flickering across her generous mouth at her mental quip.

“Am I to assume that I'm the cause for this smile?”

Althea opened her eyes and turned. Shifting her body until she was facing Nate, her smile grew wider.

“Hmm. Maybe,” she said, and giggled softly when he playfully
tickled her, finally crying uncle.

“Okay…yes, yes, I give.” She laughed softly. “Yes, you are.” She felt a sudden wave of shyness when she caught the way his light-colored eyes seemed to darken, his gaze going to her mouth. One long finger reached out to trace down the side of her face.

She turned her head away.

He caught her by the chin, raised her face toward him, forcing her to look at him.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, frowning.

Althea wanted to reach up and smooth away the
frown that creased his brows, but stopped herself. The instinct seemed so intimate, a thing lovers did, touching freely. Although they'd spent the night making love, she didn't fool herself into thinking it was anything but what it was; two people acting on a one-time, mutual desire.

Although incredible,
unlike anything she'd felt before, that's
all
it had been.

A one-time thing.

A blush rose to her cheeks as she remembered the many and varied ways they'd touched and caressed each other throughout the long night and early morning. The way his steady strokes and hot kisses made her feel.

How she'd wakened once to find him covering her, his shaft pressing intimately against her; how readily she
opened herself to him, eagerly reaching out to him.

Yet for all of that, as intense, passionate, wild and sensual as their loving had been, she still felt unsure of him. Of her own feelings.

“Do what?” she finally asked, allowing him to tilt her chin up, her eyes meeting his.

“Tuck your head away when I try and touch your face.”

Her hand reached up and touched the scar that was a constant
reminder of what had happened the last time she hadn't ducked in time.

His frown increased, his eyes narrowed. Moving her hand out of the way, he moved her hair aside. Reaching a big, muscled arm over her, he turned on the small bedside lamp, bathing the room in a light glow.

When he bent down and softly kissed the scar, that part of her that she'd held back for so long beat at her
to be released,
demanded she give in to what her heart was telling her was real.

But her mind? Her mind fought back just as hard, stubbornly telling her that it couldn't be. Not so soon…

“Whenever you're ready to tell me the reason for this,” he said, switching off the light and bringing her body in front of hers, her bottom nestled firmly against his groin, her back blanketed by his wide chest. “Know that
I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're never hurt again.”

She simply nodded her head, battling against the tears burning the back of her throat.

Even as Althea lay in front of him, her body curved intimately against his with a casual, natural intimacy that belied their brief acquaintance, Nate wondered when it happened. When had the tables turned, and what started out as a need to satiate
himself with her and get her out of his system once and for all, turned into something more. Damn.

As she lay in front of him, Nate felt the tension creep into her body, tension that hadn't been there moments before as they made love.

Even as he fought against what was happening, fought against feelings he didn't want to have, with a woman he knew held deep secrets, he found himself wanting
to break through her barriers, her defences.

 

It had been when she'd first run, after she'd realized what Reggie had done. The horror of that day still lingered in her mind.

She'd been going through the last of her father's things, clearing out boxes. She hadn't realized she'd overlooked a small fire box. With a frown on her face, she'd realized it was locked, and tried to remember where
or if she knew of a key. Her instincts had led her to the cheap ceramic box her father had always kept, from as long as she could remember, hunting inside the box for the key.

Lifting the box, she opened it, and nestled inside was a small key. Taking the key, she'd walked over to her bed with the fire box in hand and sat down, placing the key into the lock

A perfect fit.

An “awareness” came
over her. One that told her that whatever was inside the box would unlock part of the mystery surrounding her father's death. Told her father had committed suicide on his boat, Althea had felt a wealth of conflicting emotions, from doubt and grief, to anger. Anger directed at both herself and her father. Anger at her father for leaving her, and herself for somehow missing signs that would have prevented
his suicide.

She'd allowed Reggie to speak on her father's behalf to investors as well as see to the running of his business, after Reggie told her that in the weeks preceding his death, her father had decided to make him a full partner, showing her the document her father had signed stating that fact. Too caught up in grief to do much else, she'd easily agreed, not asking any questions, thankful
that he'd been there to help her.

Carefully, she'd opened the box. Inside were several sheets of paper, stapled together. With a frown she'd
unfurled them and scanned the words. As she read the hastily written words in her father's scrolling hand, her stomach had dropped, nausea filling her gut.

It appeared as though her father had been approached to invest in a new communications company that
on paper appeared promising, ready to go global. There were several documents showing the communication with them, all looking as though they'd come from her father's email address.

With a frown, Althea read over the official-looking documents. Her father, from the communication, had been pumping a significant amount of money into the startup business. So much money that Althea wondered how he
could afford to invest so heavily.

Behind one of the documents was a DVD, covered in a hard plastic case. She lifted it from within the box.

She stood and walked over to her laptop, and popped the disk inside the drive.

It was an audio recording. The first sound of her father's voice brought an unexpected wave of emotion and tears.

She sat up straight, carefully listening when she heard Reggie's
voice as well.

The two of them had been arguing, her father's voice deep baritone, although not raised, filled with anger as he confronted Reggie.

“What the hell were you thinking? I trusted you, damn it! Brought you in when no one else would have you. Not only do I find out you're not who you pretended to be, I find out you've been stealing from me, too? I ought to—”

“Ought to what, old man?”
Reggie broke in. His voice was hard, unyielding.

Reggie's tone was so completely unlike the cultured one she was accustomed to hearing that Althea's eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding even more against her ribcage.

“I'll tell you what you're going to do. What you're going to do is go along with this. As you can see, to all intents and purposes, your name is the one on the documents, your
signature. No one will believe you had nothing to do with this. I've got this covered on all angles.”

“Covered on all angles? Have you lost your mind? You can't steal from my clients and think—”

“If you play this right, just chill the hell out and let this play out, no one will know. And in the end, we all stand to make a hell of a lot of money. If you don't…”
Reggie's voice trailed off.

“But
why, Reggie? Why in the name of God would you do this? I've spent years building this company. Years of hard work, years of sacrifice. And I'll be damned if you destroy everything I've done.”

Althea heard a scornful laugh from Reggie.
“Damn man, stop with all the theatrics. No one will know the difference. By the time your precious clients know, they'll all be richer for it. They'll be glad I…you…did
it.”

“That's not the point, you son of a bitch. The point is you had no right to steal from them. And what if this company of yours goes belly up? What then? What will you tell the people you stole from?”

Again Althea heard Reggie's high-pitched laugh.

“Well, if that happens, that's a bridge you're going to have to cross. And if the company goes belly up?”
Althea could see him in her mind,
shrugging one rail-thin shoulder in disregard of what he'd done to her father.

“Whether they make money or not, I've already made mine. I'll be long gone before the shit hits the fan,”
he said, his high-pitched laugh ringing out again.

With her fists clenched, Althea listened. Before she could hear her father's reply, her cat, meowing loudly, caught her attention.

In agitation the cat tangled
itself around her legs, her cries becoming louder, so loud Althea's heart began to pound. Althea looked to the cat, and toward the door. The animal always did that whenever Reggie was around; it had never had a fondness for him.

Without pause, she quickly shut the computer down and ran to her bed, throwing the documents back inside the box and shoving it back where she'd gotten it from.

Moments
later Reggie came inside her bedroom, a look of concern plastered on his face.

“Hey baby, I was calling you, didn't you hear me?” Reggie's dark eyes scanned over her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

She sent a fervent prayer to God that he hadn't seen the box she'd shoved underneath it.

When his gaze went to her hand where she clutched the key to the lockbox, she casually smiled and stood.
She'd moved to her dresser, where she pretended to take something out, putting the key inside before turning back to face him.