Page 39 of Wild Blades

“It freed me to fully immerse myself in my business. I love it.” My new agency makes me shoot out of bed in the morning. I also love not traveling to a different city every week of the month. Or spend months away on the lead up to fashion week; London, Milan, Paris. I walked them all.

Wade steers his gaze back to Michael.

“Ignore him. Pretend, Wade.” I encourage him to jump on board with our fake relationship status. “Give him something else to talk about.”

Wade’s strong arms tighten around my waist, and I lace mine around his neck in response.

“He’s got a very punchable face.”

“I agree.” I should have punched him, then kicked him in the balls the day I caught him and Darcy together in our bed. Didn’t though. I stayed as cool as a cucumber as I turned on my heels and announced that I wanted a divorce.

Wade moves in closer, our lips almost touching, pressing his athletic frame up against me, making me feel weak at the knees.My body melts from the heat of his, as goosebumps race over my skin, making every hair on my body stand to attention.

Need pulses between my thighs at the idea of him branding me as his grip tightens around my waist. I’ve modeled with some of the most beautiful men in the world, but nothing compares to Wade’s strong, stacked body. He’s solid, sturdy as an oak tree. Built like one too.

Having not been this close to a man in over a year, I can’t deny how good it feels. How goodhefeels. His lips hovering close to mine are almost a temptation too far. My nipples harden, as a rush of arousal soaks the thin lace of my panties. It would be so easy to lean forward and claim his mouth as mine.

His sinful spicy scent invades me and all I want to do is lick him and have a taste.

But I can’t, so I turn my attention back to keeping Wade out of trouble.

“Punching him gives him the advantage of filing charges against you. The last thing you need is more bad press,” I say as we hold on to each other, not moving in time to the heavy beat of the music. Cupping my hand around the back of his neck, I give it a squeeze. “Okay?”

He nods in agreement as we move back and forth.

I feel a sense of relief at his mellowing mood.

After a few minutes of staring at each other—which doesn’t make me feel awkward, not even in the slightest, but it makes me wonder if he feels the same way—he asks, “So, I can last all night?” His brows rise.

My cheeks fill with color. “Well, can you?” I ask cheekily.

Moving his mouth to my ear, his lips brush my skin. “Want to find out?”

“Stop messing with me.” I lean out of our closeness and look away. He’d never be interested in a woman my age.

He is twenty-six. I wish I was twenty-six again, then maybe…

My hands edge down his shoulders and rest on his solid biceps.

“Not messing.” He bites down on his lip and then licks it. “I could show you I can last all night.”

If only he wasn’t pretending to protect me from Michael.

He pulls me closer, and I gasp when I feel his long, thick cock pressed against my stomach.

He’s hard.

As stone.

And he’s big.

I want to see it.

“I’m too old for you.” I hide my face in the crook of his neck to disguise my embarrassment.

“You’re fucking beautiful. Thought that since the day I met you.”

The butterflies in my stomach take on a life of their own, swirling like a tornado.He thinks I’m beautiful.

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