Page 38 of Wilde's End
I swear I hear his teeth grind together.
The familiar bleed of gravel to sealed road comes into view way too quickly, and as soon as we’re in town, Wilde stomps on the brakes and almost sends me through the front windshield.
“The fuck? I’ve already been in one accident today, thanks.”
He puts the car in park, then turns to me faster than I thought he could move. He grips my thigh so tightly I’m pinned to the chair and leans into my space.
“You might not remember this, but if you ever,everso much as touch something of mine again, this pain will be the least of your worries. Got it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His hold tightens, gray eyes looking like heavy storm clouds before the rain breaks through. “You purposely destroyed something important to me. Something irreplaceable. If you do it again, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
I lean in too. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want. I might not kill you, city boy, but don’t make the mistake of assuming that means I’m not dangerous.I learned to survive out here. And I’ll do whatever I need to for that to continue.”
The way I see it, we’re in a no-win situation. Wilde is ready to protect this place with his life, and I’m getting to feel the same way. Financially, we need this place to work, but deep down, I know it’s more than that. We could sell the town on again and be fine.Financially.
But there’s nothing waiting for us back home but disaster. Kennedy is one bad breakup away from turning into Hart. Hart’s so empty I’m scared for whatever comes next. And me? I’ve been so, so tempted lately. Tempted in a way I’ve never been before. All I can think about is high school and the way I escaped. The way popping a pill or snorting a line or licking a tiny bubble of liquid could make everything shut up again.
It’s not cravings. It has nothing to do with need.
Mentally, I’m tired. It’s an easy out, and it’s one that’s been slipping into my mind too often lately.
“Maybe a little danger is what I’ve been missing.”
We’re so fucking close, and the anger radiating from him wraps around me in a comforting way. There’s no doubt in my mind that he hates me and believes everything he says about never wanting to see me again. I’m just so fucked-up that it’s his hatred that turns me on. He’s giving me attention, and it doesn’t matter what kind it is because while he’s staring at me like this, I’m the only thing on his mind.
He’s not even attractive. Intimidating, yes, which I like a lot, but his hair and beard are a scruffy mess, so it’s not like you can see much of his face anyway. Not my type. At all. Sutton, in comparison, is a fucking swan compared to Wilde, and yet here I am, my dick getting hard anyway.
I’m fucking disgusted with myself.
But I’m not surprised.
“Get the fuck out of my truck.”
“I can’t walk.”
“I don’t care.”
When I don’t move, he swears, throws off his seat belt, and climbs out. I’m waiting for him when he flings open my door, but I’m not expecting him to reach over me, unclip my belt, and then lift me off the fucking seat.
I grip Wilde’s neck as he carries me across the street, and this is doing nothing for how hard I am. All I can feel are his muscles working against my side and the way his bodywash, so strong in the cab, is even stronger on his shirt.
“You just wanted to feel me up, didn’t you?”
“I already did enough of that when I had you pinned to the wall earlier.”
My jaw drops. How the fuck could I forgetthat?
“Erotically?” I ask, making sure I sound teasing and not at all like the image of that is too much.
“Aggressively.”
“Pity.”
“Even though I was naked when I did it.”
