Wild Card (North Ridge #1)

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he says, sounding awestruck, as if he's witnessing something transcendent. It makes me feel like a fucking queen on a throne, a ruler with only one subject. He runs his hands up and down over my sides, trying to memorize me, skin remembering skin.

And I remember him. His touch that could always set me free. It hasn't changed. We both have in small ways but the way our bodies respond to each other hasn't.

Then he dips his head, gripping my breasts, eyes on me as he licks and sucks, tongue flat and teasing. I keep his carnal gaze until my eyes pinch shut with pleasure and I cry out, my fingers threading through his silky hair. “Don’t stop,” I manage to say, my words floating on the air.

But he does stop.

He pulls back and stares at me, raw determination on his brow, his eyes stealing my breath away.

Look at how he looks at me. The way he sees me. No one else ever saw me like this.

“Rachel,” he says, voice low, rich, deep, a whisky-voice that intoxicates my blood. “If you don’t want me to stop…I won’t stop. I promise you I won’t stop until I’ve given all I have to you.” I watch his Adam’s apple as he swallows, my eyes drinking in the thickness of his neck, his broad shoulders, the veins and muscles on his biceps, forearms, hands that give and give.

He is so beautiful.

And he’s mine.

It’s time to let go of the past. It’s time to move forward. Just for these minutes. If not just for tonight.

I’m Rachel and he’s Shane and we go together, fit together, because we always have. We worked then and we work in the here and now.

This needs to happen.

It needs to happen like we both need the air we breathe.

It’s been building, twisting, turning to this moment for far too fucking long.

I stare at him and without breaking our gaze, I take off my boots, socks, jeans, underwear, until I’m standing naked in front of him. It doesn’t matter that my bare feet are in dirt, that there’s a horse behind us, that we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Nothing matters but us.

I have been so damn starved for him.

Six fucking years.

“Don’t ever stop,” I tell him.

I’m ready.

His nostrils flare and then he’s at me, capturing my mouth in a brutal, commanding kiss.

I gasp, overtaken by his strength, the elegant violence of his lips as his tongue fucks my mouth.

This is wild, so wild. I’m shaking as he works me, our kiss is messy and hard and full of anger and loss and hate and love and so much history and so much time. So, so much time.

I’m making whimpering sounds against his mouth and then I’m breathless as he grabs me by the waist and spins me around until I’m up against the tree. My back is pressed against the rough bark and his shirt is coming over his head, the rest of his clothes – jeans, briefs, boots – are cast aside.

He stares at my body for just a moment, but in that moment, he sets me on fire and everything is urgent now, so urgent, and I’m burning for him.

He drops to his knees and lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, shoving his face between my thighs for the second time today. Unlike earlier where he was tentative and unsure, now he’s a feral creature devouring his prey, rough and raw. His mouth presses into me, moaning, grunting against my skin. Just his breath, his heat, the slide of his tongue against my clit pushes me already so close to the edge, every muscle in my body winding and winding and winding up.

He groans again, the vibrations rolling through me.

“Shane,” I whisper, breathless, going fucking crazy as his tongue lashes at me relentlessly until I’m so spread, so swollen, I start writhing with pleasure, my body famished. I hold his head in place, not even minding the way the bark scrapes at my spine. Even the pain feels amazing.

“I’m going…” I start to say but my words trail off and I can’t focus on anything anymore, too many sensations are coming at me from all directions. The slick fuck of his tongue, the suck, suck, suck of his lips, his fingers pressing so hard into my thighs I know they’ll leave bruises, the raw skin of my spine.

A sweat breaks out at my temples.

My fingers yank at his hair, trying to hold on before I’m gone but…

I’m gone.

So gone.

I cry out, loud, shrill, his name is offered up over and over again and I’m not even myself, not even here. I’m in his mouth and everywhere. I’ve melted and been put back together.

And I don’t even have room to think.

“I’ve been craving the taste of you for years,” he says, voice breaking as he gets to his feet. “Now that I’ve had you again, I don’t think this will ever be enough.”

He takes my hands together until it looks like I’m praying and then turns me around, placing them on the tree. “Hold on, raven girl. There’s only one ride and it’s wild.”

I weave a bit on my feet and grip the tree as he spreads my legs with his hands, one hand coming forward underneath me and gripping me, fingers splayed so I can feel how large his hands are. He holds me tight, possessive – mine, this says, all mine – applying pressure until I’m less sensitive, then let’s go and positions himself behind me.

“I’ve waited for you,” he murmurs to me, running his wet fingers down my spine and I shiver, my body beyond my control. “God, I’ve waited for you, wished for you, Rachel. Just like this, just for me. Just us.” His voice is rough with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

My heart trips at his words.

But before I can say anything to that, he grips my hips and pushes in, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as he goes.

I cry out, my nails digging into the bark, holding on tight as he slowly eases in, spreading me wider and wider from the inside out. It takes forever to feel the full length of him slide into me and then he’s in so deep, in so right, I swear I feel him pulsing, his heat coming through.

I’ve never felt so full of him before, I’m both starving for him and satisfied, filled and indescribably desperate.

“You like that?” he asks in a quiet rasp as he leans over to kiss my neck, my shoulders. The skin of his chest brushing over my sensitive back. “Did you miss that?”

“Yes,” I hiss, closing my eyes, my back arching as he eases out and deliberately pushes in again, inch by inch.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I… I want this,” I whisper, my words catching as my breath does. I can’t seem to convey what I’m feeling, just how he’s rendering me, shaking and a little wild. “Fuck, I want this Shane. I want you. Give me all of you.”

“Rachel,” he murmurs and then slams into me until I’m pressed against the tree.

I cry out, not from pain but from everything. It’s everything, I’m feeling everything and he’s relentless. He starts to rut into me, his hips slapping against my ass in a slowly building rhythm. Inside I’m glowing, everything getting hotter, tighter, my noises louder and louder.

Shane’s inside me.

So deep inside me.

He fits with me like no one else ever could.

My brain wants to focus on the future, on tomorrow, my plans and the what-ifs but I pull it back. I force it to be here with him. I force it to feel the things it doesn’t want to feel, the scary things, the things that mean the world.

The fact that I love him so much.