Page 106 of Wild As Her

“But what if I can't be who you need me to be?” he whispers.

I slide closer, my hand finding his. “I don't need you to be anything other than who you are, Jack. Remember that boy I used to build forts with as a kid? That's still you. You're still my person. No matter where you've been or who you think you are now, that boy is still in there. And deep down, he's still my best friend.”

Silence stretches, thick and electric. Then he shifts closer,so our knees touch.I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s him. All I know is that one second, we’re just talking, and the next?—

I’m in his arms.And it feels so good it hurts.

He wraps me up like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My face finds his neck, and he smells like cedar and smoke and the man I’ve tried to hate and failed so epically.

“You always this cuddly after dropping emotional bombs?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood even though my voice is shaking.

“Only with you,” he murmurs.

I laugh softly against his chest. “God, you’re annoying.”

“Still cuddling me though.”

“Shut up, Jessop.” I shift, and that’s when I realizejusthow tangled we are. His thigh is wedged between mine, his hand flat against my back, my shirt rucked up slightly where his fingers brush skin. My nipples are pebbled and I— God, I want him to touch me so badly. My heart pounds in places I didn’t know it could. I wonder if he can feel it, too.

His breath hitches.“Wilder…I’m sorry I left like I did,” he whispers, voice strained.

I look up. Our faces are inches apart.

And then I kiss him. I don't hold back; I just go for it, praying he'll kiss me back.It’s not planned. It’s not gentle. It’s heat and need and too many years of not having him when I should have.

He groans into my mouth and threads his fingers through my hair, deepening the kiss instantly. His mouth is hot and demanding, but careful, like he’s trying to cherish every second.When he shifts and pulls me fully onto his lap, I gasp against his lips. He takes the opportunity to trail kisses down my neck, nipping just above my collarbone, and I swear I see stars.

“I hate how good this is with you,” I whisper.

“You fuckin’ love it. I love how good this is,” he counters, voice thick.

He’s right. I do.

My hands trace his neck and his skin is warm, solid muscle, and when he shudders under my touch, it flips something primal in me.

His eyes lock on mine, asking for permission without saying a word.

I nod, and he takes my oversized pajama top off and leans back to admire his view. His fingers trace over my breasts, and he moans softly.

He looks like he’s about to come undone when he sees I have no panties on and am bare for him.

It feels slow and hot andreal. We take our time. Like we’re unlearning every reason we’ve been apart. Like we’re rewriting our whole story with our bodies. And it feels so good. My body trembles, his touch steadying me.

His mouth goes to my breasts, and he takes his time, biting and soothing each sting with a lick. My hands grip his hair as he tugs on my nipples, making me moan.

My hands move for his jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down, as I feel his rock-hard cock under me. Ready for me.

We might be a mess in so many ways and have so much to work out, but this right here is happening. This feels right.

He takes his time kissing my breasts, licking, sucking and touching each one like they're prizes he's won. I moan and lean back, my hair tickling my back. "Jack..."

His eyes reach mine and they're hungry with desire as he watches me, going back to kissing me and touching me, palming me, not saying anything, but being in this moment with me that both of us need.

"Is this finally happening?" I whisper.

"Do you want this?" he asks, as he grips my waist, and I feel his rock-hard cock under me.

"Yes," I say quickly. "I want you, Jack.”

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