Page 19 of Chasing Wildflowers
I can’t get her out of my head. I tried to convince myself I was only going to the bar to keep an eye on her, like I told Miles I would. But the truth became clear when I started driving past her house in the middle of the night like a fucking stalker.
I need distance until the DNA comes back. I need clean lines. I need my head.
Stepping under the spray, the hot water pounds my shoulders, loosening some of the tension coiled tight as the steam swirls around me. I should make a trip to the city. Find a bar and a beautiful woman to purge Lane from my soul. But I know it won’t work. There is no purging her. My need for her is too deep.
I fist my hard cock, pre-cum already leaking from my tip. Images of Lane flash behind my closed eyes. Her dancing with Kam, wild and free. Her head tossed back, long silky hair cascading over her shoulders.
I’ve tried to stay professional. To remember that this is a case, and she is a suspect.
That she’s off limits.
But it’s useless. She already wrapped around me like a vise, seeping through my veins.
I pump faster, palm braced against the tile, imagining her red lips stretched around my cock as she swallows me whole, gagging on every inch. Her spit, her moans, her pleasure—mine.
It doesn’t take long before my legs start to shake, tension building at the base of my spine.
“FUCK!” My orgasm rips through me, and I paint the walls of the shower with my release.
Water cascades down my back as I stand there panting, riding out the aftershock. I’ve never come thishard or fast, from my own hand and the thought of a woman. Hell, I’ve never had a woman get under my skin the way she has.
Reality sinks in as I come down from my post ejaculation high.
I have to stay the fuck away from Lane. Being around her clouds my judgement, and that’s dangerous. Under no circumstances can I be around her until we get those results back.
I make it six days.
Six long, brutal days where I tried to sweat her out of my head. First, by hiking the nearby trails until my legs burned, followed by working out until my muscles screamed. When that didn’t work, I tried to distract myself with bad TV and crossword puzzles. Nothing worked.
So here I am, standing outside the bar.
“Hey, Wildflower,” I call as I step through the door, my boots scuffing against the carpet. The faint twang of a country ballad spilling from the jukebox, mixing with the murmur of conversation and the clink of glass.
Her head snaps up. Relief flashes through her eyes and she quickly masks it with an easy smile. “I was beginning to think you left town,” she says, voice like warm honey with a rough edge.
Did she miss me? The idea makes something hum low and dangerous in my chest. I slide onto a stool, andthe leather protests with a soft sigh. “I’ll be around for a while.”
She turns and reaches for the whiskey she knows I like. “The ladies from book club will be happy to hear that. You’ve become their new favorite topic,” she teases, glancing over her shoulder as she pours, the corners of her mouth tugging up.
I lean back and cross my arms, my gaze locked on her. “And what do they say about me?”
I don’t give a shit what those women say. But I do want her opinion.
She slides my drink in front of me, eyes narrowing. “You know exactly what they say about you.”
A cocky smirk tugs at my lips. “Maybe.”
She shakes her head, a laugh spilling from her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
That laugh. Light. Free. It shoots straight to my gut.
She grabs a rag and wipes at the counter, as if it will remove the permanent stickiness. “How much longer do you plan to be in town?” she asks, her voice trying just a little too hard to sound casual.
“Who’s asking? The ladies from the book club or you, Wildflower?” I lower my head, forcing her eyes to meet mine.
A shiver runs through her, and her breath catches. Before she can answer, two guys barrel through the door, loudly, stealing her attention. Fucking assholes.
The taller of the two’s gaze locks onto Lane, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “Hey Laney.” He’s at least three or four inches shorter than me, with abuzzcut and the energy ofI peaked in high school, but I still think I’m the man.
