Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) (46 page)

O
NCE BACK AT THE HOUSE, Roman quickly retreated to his room saying he needed a shower and then planned to veg out with the remote control in his hand until he passed out.

Making sure to press Rhiann for a promise that she wouldn’t hit the beach in the morning for her daily run without him, he nodded at Liam, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and disappeared.

When they were alone, Rhiann asked if he brought a bag. Telling her it was in the front hallway on the middle level, she told him to go grab it then she set about switching off lights and straightening up.

“Uh . . . which room should I use?”

“Mine, of course.”

“Really?” He hadn’t meant to sound so hopeful but dammit, he had.

“We already covered this,” she muttered, putting some glasses in the dishwasher.

“Uh, yeah. But I thought . . .”

She turned a playful smirk on him, slapped a hand to her waist, cocked her hip, and shook her head.

“Men. Y’all start wars, join fight clubs, and jockey for the front row at boxing matches, but a little talk about female issues and you fold like a cheap suit.”

“Uh . . .”

“Oh, and apparently, language deserts you as well!”

Liam had to nod in agreement because she was right. Period talk, tampons, rating how bad the cramps were—what guy wanted to be a part of that shit?

“Better get used to it, Ashforth,” she teased. “Look, I’m going to get in the shower. You stow your stuff in the master and maybe find something on the boob tube for us to watch. I sleep on the right side of the bed so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep that in mind.”

Mumbling to himself, Liam went to grab his bag and rolled it into the small elevator so he didn’t thump, thump, thump it up the wood staircase.

Stabbing at the button for the top floor, he thought,
Well, shit. She was right.
He had better get used to it, but honestly—who the hell did this happen to?

In the huge master bedroom, he stopped to admire the comfortable furnishings, making mental notes for future reference. If Rhiann had an affinity for this particular beach, he was more than happy to buy her whatever house floated her boat.

He might not know this Jax guy, but he did know Brynn a little bit and he had to hand it to her new husband because the house really was magnificent.

The bed, which was the size of a small country, was an oversized wood piece with a distinctive arched canopy and carved slats on the head and footboard. Matching dressers sat on opposite walls and the two nightstands completed the suite of furniture. Two overstuffed chairs sat side by side in front of an enormous bay window that faced the ocean. There was a lounger he knew was called a fainting couch, draped with a fuzzy looking throw, and a couple of tables, too.

Hanging his suits and shirts in the cavernous walk-in closet, he left his toiletry bag on a table near the door to the en suite and stashed his underclothes in the dresser that was empty.

Goddamn, he was nervous and couldn’t help running his palms down his thighs in case they were sweaty, clammy, or both.

Shrugging off his suit jacket and vest, he draped them over the valet in the closet, toed off his shoes and socks, and finally, unwound his tie from his neck. Glancing at it ruefully, he remembered Rhiann saying she wanted to tie him to the bed. With those heavy wood slats at both ends of the bed, anything was possible. Quickly dismissing the thought because, after all . . . she wasn’t exactly in playtime mode, he sat on the edge of the bed and fucked with the remote control.

What was the protocol in these situations? He was clueless. Some part of him couldn’t believe that he was in his thirties and hadn’t ever experienced anything that even remotely resembled an actual relationship. Sneaking around with a teenage Rhiann didn’t count—a reminder that still bothered him. He’d been a douche—a big one and her snarky comment about them going out publicly as something novel served up a reminder of how unfair all that had been. For her. Keeping things off the grid? That had been one hundred percent him. He had a lot to make up for.

Okay. So where does that leave him? Research.
Yeah. That’s what he needed.
Find out what other guys did—maybe pick up a few pointers to help him navigate this whole girlfriend thing.

Having something to do, something to focus on, energized Liam. Yeah. He could do this. Quickly checking to make sure the shower was still running, he grabbed his phone and started a web search. Goddammit—he was going to be the best boyfriend any girl could hope for.

Am I overthinking this,
he wondered fifteen minutes later as he cautiously made his way from the kitchen back to the master carrying a steaming—and he really meant
steaming
—cup of some herbal tea crap he found in the pantry.

The thought was downright comical because right then, he was prepared to book passage to the International Space Station if that’d make her happy. A cup of tea on her nightstand—
right side of the bed, thank you very much
—some fluffed up pillows, a dumbass chick flick on the television. All easily done. And ready to go.

Ridiculously keyed-up, he bounced on his toes and flexed his fingers to dispel some of the excess energy that was making him a wreck. Suddenly dashing to a wall mirror, he inspected what he saw in the reflection and frowned. His hair and face looked all right, although a shave wouldn’t have hurt, but the button-down shirt, sleeves turned back, and dark blue slacks made him pause.

If he owned such a thing as pajamas, he might have put on just the bottoms, give her a little gun show. Put his chest on display. He knew she liked that. But he really was a one trick pony where his wardrobe was concerned—she was right about that. He slept nude. No need for loungewear. Damn.

Mm
mm.
That smell. He inhaled deeply and let it sink into him. His mouth watered at the scents wafting from the shower room.
Rhiann.
Sweet. Feminine. Seductive.
His.

“Liam!” He heard a soft gasp followed by her charming giggle. “What is all this?”

The sound in his head rivaled the crashing of the waves along the shore outside when he turned toward the vision in white he found standing in the center of the archway leading to the en suite. She was so breathtaking all he could do was stare.

A short, silky robe—white—belted around her waist, clung to curves that he ached to touch. She was reaching up, taking a clip from the hair gathered in a mass of curls atop her head.

Those bewitching green eyes were brimming with laughter and her smile? His heart contracted at the sight.

Clip removed, her long mane of soft hair unfurled in slow motion. When she shook her head to aid the fall, brown curls tumbling across her shoulders starkly contrasted with the pure white of the silk that covered her nakedness. A single ringlet fell in the opening of the robe and teased the curve of her breast.

He wondered if she had any idea at all how beautiful she was or how desperately in lust with her, he was.

Oh, dear sweet baby Jesus! What had he done? Rhiann couldn’t believe her eyes. The scene he’d set while she lingered in the shower was just about the most adorable thing she’d ever seen.

Tossing the hair clip in her hand aside, she covered her mouth and giggled, her shoulders shaking slightly from the laughter and happiness jolting her senses.

The enormous bed had the covers turned back showing a wide swath of crisp, white linen and he had plumped every pillow he could find and set in a crescent along the headboard of what would be her side of the bed. He had laid the luxurious cashmere throw that normally draped the chaise there, too.

All the lights were dimmed and a cup of something very hot that had swirls of steam rolling from it sat on her nightstand. Why, he’d even put the remote control there, too! Holy shitballz. What guy ever surrendered control of the TV?

This. Was
. Epic!

And the icing on the cake? He must have scoured the zillion on demand channels until he found what he imagined was something she’d like.
Awww.

The longing she found in Liam’s eyes only slightly altered the cautious, out-of-his-milieu look on his handsome face.

Spying his phone at the end of the bed, she didn’t doubt that if she opened his web browser, she’d find an amusing search history. This wonderfully adorable, fucked-up, complicated, overachieving, full of contradictions man had undoubtedly looked into suggested ways to deal with a hormonal woman.
Priceless.

She didn’t feel her feet moving toward him, didn’t know whether she crawled across the bed on all fours or if she pushed her belly button and flew—all Rhiann knew for sure was she had to touch him, wrap her arms around him, and show him how wonderful he was.

“Baby,” she muttered as her arms wound possessively about his neck. Flattening her body against his, she reached for his mouth with hers and set about telling him in no uncertain terms who he belonged to and who loved him.

As her lips brushed his, he moaned, pulled her firmly in his powerful embrace, and surrendered to her kiss. He let her lead, so she did, subjecting him to a wicked ravishment of nips, licks, and tongue swirls intended to set his senses on fire.

“You taste so good,” she told him then sucked his tongue deep into her mouth in a very naughty and suggestive way. Inhaling his groans became an addiction.
More.
She needed more.

Hungry, her head swimming with desire, Rhiann left urgent kisses all over his face until burrowing into the warmth of his neck, she licked his skin and growled against the flesh she was devouring.

Liam’s arms tightened around her. “Rhiann,” he groaned. She kept on licking, found a spot she liked then opened her mouth, pressed her lips to his neck and suckled—marking him with her passion.

His answering shudder unleashed the same from her, which only made him clutch her harder. When his hand slid from her waist and slowly caressed her bottom through the silky robe, she couldn’t help herself. Biting down hard, she made a meal of his flesh and lost her way in the process.

Mindless, driven by a desire so mighty and powerful that she had no defense against it, Rhiann yielded to the wanton seductress Liam inspired and went wild in his arms.

It took her a bit to realize that he was holding back. Why wasn’t she naked and under him on the big bed, crying in ecstasy as he claimed her?
Finally.

His grunts and the way those amazingly strong fingers dug into her curves let her know she wasn’t alone in her desire but why was he letting her take charge?

He put his hand in her hair and gently tugged until her ravenous mouth could no longer eat him alive. Whimpering, she clawed frantically at his back and tried to get even closer. God. She wanted his hands on her. All over her. Why was he stopping?

“Ahh,” he groaned. “Rhiann.
Milaya moya
. . . easy.”

He was breathing quite heavily. As was she. The heat coming from their bodies felt glorious. So too did the surge of warm wet arousal that flooded her sex.

Biting her lip in frustration, she closed her eyes as he tugged her head back and moaned deeply.

No. She didn’t want him to stop. Even pumping the brakes to slow down wasn’t acceptable. They’d made it this far—against a veritable fuck ton of odds stacked against them. This was their time, at last. Easy wasn’t going to do it. Not at all.

“Please, Liam. Don’t make me beg,” she gasped. “Don’t you know? Can’t you tell how much I need you?”

He pulled away and looked down into her upturned face, a wildness in his eyes that excited her.

“Help me here, baby,” he murmured. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. “We can’t . . . you’re . . . uh, I mean . . . oh fuck, Rhiann. I don’t know what I mean.”

He gathered her close and buried his face in her hair and just like that, the light bulb went on over her head.

Oh, right.
Her little bit of playacting had been what started all this. What drove him to fluff the pillows. She’d forgotten all that the minute he was in her arms.

Sucking in a much-needed breath of air, she eased from his embrace and slyly asked, “Where’s the bag from the drugstore?”

She heard his sigh and tried not to smile. Sounding like a reluctant hero, whatever that meant, he nodded toward a table and said, “I’ll grab it for you.”

Rhiann watched his tight, flawless ass walk across the room and let out a sigh of her own, only hers was more of the leering kind than his was. The man’s butt was spellbinding. She wanted to dig her fingers into both perfect cheeks and hold on tight as he thrust inside her while she wrapped her thighs tightly around his waist.

When he returned with the small bag, she was tugging on the loop of the belt that kept her robe closed. Stumbling to a halt with his hand holding the bag out, he watched, his steel grey eyes glittering as she drew the sash away and let the robe hang open slightly.

He swallowed, looked at her with a burning intensity, and almost dropped the bag.

“Empty it on the bed,” she instructed while pulling back one side of the silky garment and exposing a breast with its puckered nipple in the process.