Page 15 of Wild For You

Or maybe I’m angry at the fact that my nipples are straining against the fabric of my bra, eager to spill into his willing hands. My core pulses to life as waves of want shoot through veins, reacting to his masculinity.

How can someone with a cast on his foot move so fast?

And most importantly, what the hell is he doing to me?

“You could have pulled a muscle.” I try to scramble to my feet, but his grip tightens, keeping me glued to his chest.

“Sorry, reflex,” Cash says, his hot breath caressing my lips.

“Nice attempt.” I turn away sharply before my labored breathing can betray the effect he’s having on my body. My gaze settles on his hand gripping my wrist, and I narrow my eyes in the hope he’ll get the message.

“No, really.” He lets go off my hand, then goes on to turn on top of me in order to push up to his feet, taking all the time in the world. Well, more like stumbles up while making sure at some point his entire body is pressed into me, his weight keeping me glued in place.

It feels so good I almost forget to breathe.

All my senses are heightened, enjoying the moment, trying to prolong it. I bite my lip hard to regain my composure, but it’s not doing the trick.

Cash doesn’t try to show it, but I can tell his leg’s hurting him. In spite his discomfort, I feel the bulge between my legs, pressed into me, and something stirs in my abdomen.

My mouth goes dry, and all my lady parts clench in anticipation of his next move.

You did it on purpose, I want to say, and yet I keep staring at him, my mushy brain rendered useless. His mouth is so close I can feel his hot breath on my lips. Heat swirls through my body, creating an exquisite ache that begs for his touch.

A part of me wishes he’d just put some distance between us before he realizes that I want him…badly. And then there’s the tiny voice in my head that tells me to make a move and go for it because, clearly, Cash isn’t adverse to the idea, either. I’ve had my fair share of groping. It comes with the job description, and I’ve always warded it off without paying it much attention.

Until now.

With Cash it’s different. It doesn’t feel like groping.

It doesn’t feel like he’s mistaking my professional touch for affection. It also doesn’t feel like he’s trying to prove to himself that he still has what it takes to attract women.

It feels like he’s into me for the sake of me, and under different circumstances I’d probably allow myself to explore this crazy sexual attraction—

I shake my head.

Don’t even go there.

At last, with a low, sexy groan, Cash presses his hand into the lounger, inches from my hip, and straightens to his feet, his eyes lingering on me.

The bit of distance he’s just put between us is enough for my brain to regain its marbles.

“What did you do that for?” I ask breathily.

“Sorry. It was an honest mistake.” Cash winks, the gesture betraying his real intentions.

“And you expect me to believe that?” I cross my arms over my chest, mostly to cover the tell-tale signs of my arousal. “Mr. Boyd, I’m not your hooker. I’m your physical therapist, in case you still didn’t get the message. If you need someone to take care of your private needs, I’ll be happy to call the appropriate number. But the stunt you just pulled is dangerous. You could have torn a muscle, or worse.”

“I’m always careful,” Cash mumbles.

I sigh, ignoring the sudden need to roll my eyes. “I bet you said the same thing before you fell off that bull.”

I’m not usually one to dish out low blows, but someone needed to give this guy a wakeup call.

In the many years I’ve been working as a physical therapist, I’ve never encountered anyone so full of himself.

No one’s ever affected me this much, either.

“It was a mistake, Erin.” His hand reaches out to touch me. Startled, I jump up, my shoulder bumping into his hard chest.

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