Page 142 of Ride the Sky

A wicked grin tips his lips. My eyes widen. Before I can stop him, he catches me around the waist and tosses me over his shoulder.

“You asshole,” I growl, shoving at his arm.

In response, he gives me a hard slap on the ass. At the sharp snap of denim, the bar erupts into delighted hoots and hollers.

“Beef, save our table,” he says, nodding at our corner booth.

“Fuck yeah, Wyatt,” Beef cheers. “Takin’ it outside. I like to see it.”

“You’re dead, Wyatt.” I glare down at his backside, not minding the prime view of his Wrangler-clad ass.

With that, he marches outside and into the back alley. Gently, he slides me down his body and sets me on my feet. The night air is crisp and cool. Only the sound of the muted music from Nowhere cuts the silence.

He glares at me. “You got somethin’ to tell me instead of throwin’ a tantrum like that?”

I cross my arms. “Wasn’t a tantrum.” A sly smile tips my lips. “I wanted to see something.”

“What?” he growls. “See me go fuckin’ insane?” He prowls forward, pinning me against the brick wall of the bar. His hard erection strains against the inside of my thigh. “I can’t fucking stand it,” he says thickly, eyes shuttering as if he’s in pain. “The thought of someone else touchin’ you. The thought of you and another man.” His hand grips my jaw. Squeezes. “No fuckin’ way, Fallon.”

My chest heaves. I shouldn’t love his primal side, but I do.

“You’re my wife, Fallon. I’m the only man who should be fucking you tonight and every night after.”

Feeling unhinged, I grab his shirt and yank him to my lips. I kiss him hard and sharp then pull back and bare my teeth. “Then fuck me.”

His blue eyes burn. It’s a dare, and he knows it.

“You want my possessive side?” Body rigid, he keeps his gaze on my face. “You want me to claim you right here? Right now?”

“Yes.” I gasp as he sticks his hand up my dress. He trails a callused finger over my panties then presses his fingers into the slick folds of my pussy. “Yes.”

“Christ, Fallon,” he murmurs, his features contorted in pain. His free hand roams my body, my curves. “Can’t stay away from you. Won’t.”

My legs nearly give out as two broad fingers slip inside me. I groan, head tipping back, throat bobbing.

I grip his shoulders, panting and soaked. My skin burns red-hot as he inserts another finger, hitting a tight ring of muscle. I gasp at the intense sensation.

“That’s my girl,” he praises. “My good girl.”

Unable to stand it any longer, my hands shoot to his belt buckle. “I need you inside me,” I order, voice low. “Now.”

Fast, frenetic, he slams me back against the wall. There’s the sound of his zipper, and then his jeans are roughly tugged down his hips. Our fingers collide in a rush to yank down my panties.

He bends down, wrapping an arm around my ass, lifting me, pinning me against the wall. I wrap my thighs around his waist, my arms around his neck. And then he’s in me, thrusting greedily. Our collective panting is the only soundtrack to the still night.

This is us. Me and Wyatt. Wild. Reckless.

“Madefor me,” he gasps, pumping his hips. “Fucking built to take all of me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes.” God help me, I’m not a woman who whimpers, but with Wyatt, I’m a puddle.

“Is this what you want? Me fucking that hungry little pussy raw?” He’s practically shaking as he grinds the words roughly into my ear.

My heart pumps so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.

“I need your cock,” I say, threading my fingers through that head of golden-brown hair. “Need it hard.”

A growl of approval falls from his lips. His fingers knead my ass, gripping tight as he thrusts hard. I fall forward at our motion, biting the meat of his shoulder.

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