Page 87 of Pretty Wild

I can’t help but smile. “Good. Fucker got what he deserved.”

“Yeah,” she replies, but any happiness she feels doesn’t reach her eyes.

Clearing my throat, I know I need to drop the bomb. “Vaughn is here.”

It takes a second for my words to register. “What?”

I reach out and pull her into my arms, needing to feel her there. “Before I came here, I stopped by my house to change my shirt because I got diesel on it.”

“That’s why you stink,” she murmurs, wrinkling her nose in this cute way that makes me want to kiss her.

“Yep,” I agree. “Anyway, there was a knock at my door, and there he was.”

Her mouth is slightly agape, her eyes wide. “He’s here?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh my God!” she bellows, starting to pace.

“He, uh, well, he said he was looking for his fiancée.” I hide how badly that word burns my tongue, but barely.

She stops moving and her jaw drops. “His what?”

“Fiancée.”

“I amnothis fiancée!” she proclaims. “We broke up! He’s blocked on my phone, for God’s sake! I want nothing to do with him and have told him that repeatedly.”

“We can call TD,” I inform her. “If he’s in town, then he can ask him to leave.”

She shakes her head. “Marcus,” she practically cries. “We can’t just ask him to leave. Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“He’s a damn douchebag. A royal fucking prick who deserves to have his ass run out of town,” I insist, which earns me a small smile.

She moves, stepping toward me and practically jumping into my arms. I catch her easily, while her legs wrap around my waist. Her mouth slams into mine, her tongue slipping past my lipsand delving inside my mouth. I cup her ass, gripping the globes with a bit of extra force. Ryan groans into my mouth, rubbing her chest against mine, and rocking her hips.

“Fuck,” I murmur.

“Yes. That. Now, Marcus,” she requests urgently. Her hands dive for my T-shirt, but since she’s pressed against my chest, it’s not going anywhere.

“I’m not sure?—”

“I’m very sure,” she interrupts. “Please.”

I open my mouth, knowing there are a ton of things we need to discuss, all things considered, but now, with her rocking her hips and grinding against my dick, all those other reasons we should talk about fly out the window.

“No talking,” she demands, reaching down and shifting her own shirt up and over her head.

I don’t know what comes over me—actually, I take that back—I know exactly what comes over me. It has everything to do with the incredibly beautiful woman stripping naked and all but begging for me to fuck her right now.That’swhat comes over me.

So, that’s what I do.

Spinning around, I carry her toward the bedroom, all while shoving my tongue down her throat. The moment we breach the threshold, she slides down my body and is practically ripping her clothes off. I’m torn between stripping my own clothes off and watching the show.

“Clothes, Marcus. Now.” There’s a desperation in her voice I’ve never heard before.

I move, unlacing my boots and pulling them off before fumbling with my belt buckle and trying to get my pants off. Ryan is naked, digging at my fly and practically ripping it open. I shimmy my jeans down my legs and go still when I feel her hand and mouth simultaneously wrap around my dick.

A gasp flies past my lips as I try to get my bearings, but with her working me over the way she is, it’s hard.

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