Page 36 of Pretty Wild

And curls my toes.

His tongue delves inside my mouth, tasting and commanding more. I give in, letting him lead me to wherever in the hell he wants to, because I’m completely at his mercy. His lips are a touch rough, but I don’t seem to care. All I want is more.

I reach for his wet T-shirt, pulling his chest to mine. Marcus’s hands frame my face, his thumbs lightly caressing my cheeks. I can almost feel those very thumbs touching me between my legs. Gentle, yet firm, and driving me straight to orgasm.

The kiss is everything I didn’t know I needed, wrapped in a big pink bow.

A glittery one.

Then, he spins me around. I’m pinned against the side of the truck, my wet legs wrapped around his waist. I can feel every hard inch of him, from his muscular chest to his erection pressed firmly where I need him most. His hands grip my ass, kneading it, as I rock myself against him.

I gasp as pleasure races through my veins. Any discomfort I feel at having wet clothes is forgotten. All I feel—all I want—is him. Every hard, square inch of him. In his work boots and ball cap. Jeans and faded T-shirt. No name brands, no fancy watch, no Italian shoes.

Just him.

Marcus.

A small-town, blue-collar country boy with stained fingernails and an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude.

When it feels like I can no longer breathe, he rips his mouth from mine. We’re both panting as he rests his forehead against mine. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused and a little concerned.

“We’re so damn different, and yet, I want you so fucking bad it hurts.”

Judging by how hard he is in his jeans; he could be referring to a physical ache.

My mind swirls like the spin cycle on a washing machine, but it’s desire that’s making it turn. This is temporary, right? I’m only here for a few more weeks, so why not make the most out of my time? Spending some of it wrapped in these strong arms might be just what I need to put everything that happened in LA behind me.

Besides, I’m wild, right?

Might as well live up to my famous persona.

“What if…we act on this attraction. Unless a temporary summer fling isn’t your thing.”

He smirks. “Princess, that’s just my thing.”

“Well,” I start, tightening my arms around his neck, “how about we enjoy the next three and a half weeks. At the end of my vacation, I head back to California with a tan and some memories.”

He holds my gaze, as if waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” Shrugging, I add, “I think we both deserve a little fun, and there’s definitely some attraction here. I can’t miss it.” I roll my hips over his erection.

He grunts and closes his eyes for a brief moment. “Just sex?”

“Or whatever the hell we want, Marcus. We’re consenting adults. We’re both single…right?” I ask, realizing I really have no idea. I assume he is, but maybe he’s not. And if that’s the case, I’ll climb down off his body, head back to my cabin, and forget all about him.

Well, maybe not forget, because the size of his dick is something a girl won’t ever forget anytime soon.

“Very single.” He pauses before adding, “You?”

“Definitely,” I confirm. The first thing I did after watching my show’s season finale was break up with the asshole who used me. “So, what do you say, buster? You game?”

The corners of his mouth slowly curl upward, revealing that rare, yet gorgeous smile. “I’m game, Princess.”

My blood starts to hum through my veins, my panties even more soaked than after the dip in the lake. “When do we start this fun little adventure?”

He leans forward, running his lips down the front of my neck. “I don’t have anything going on now, do you?”

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