THE WILDE SIDE, page 22
"Nearly seven months ago!" Unable to sit still any longer, she jumped up from the bed, though it felt as though her entire world had just shifted beneath her feet.
"You went through a lot when you had Sophie." His tone was reasonable, and it was obvious to her that he truly believed what he was saying.
She gaped at him. Yes, she'd a long, intense, tough labor, but didn't most women? "Adam, I'm fine," she said, wondering if she'd ever be able to reassure him of that. Regardless, she had to try. "I'm not a delicate, fragile female who's going to break because of a little rough and tumble sex. I want what we shared before Sophie was born. I need that. I need you. All of you, just the way you were."
He moved to the edge of the mattress and dragged his hands through his already mussed hair. He looked so torn, so unlike the passionate, confident man she'd married, and while that scared her a little, it also made her more determined to break through his noble restraint.
She stood in front of him and decided to take a different approach. "Look at me and tell me what you see, other than the outfit I'm wearing."
He gazed up at her face, and she definitely saw love and affection in his eves. "I see my wife, the mother of our child—"
She held up a hand. "Stop right there. Yes, I'm Sophie's mother. I gave birth to her and breast-fed her for six weeks. But I'm first and foremost a woman, and this body of mine has a woman's needs. That didn't go away just because I had a baby." Then an awful thought dawned on her, and her heart squeezed tight. "Unless ... unless you don't desire me the same way anymore?"
"God, no, that's not it at all! I still want you in the same way, even more so than before, but..."
Impatience got the better of her. "But what?"
His jaw clenched tight, and she knew he was struggling with how to put his thoughts and feelings into words. Finally, he said in an agonized voice, "I'm afraid that if I let go and take you the way I really want to, I'm not only going to be too rough with you, but you're going to think I'm an animal."
Knowing how hard that was for him to admit, she came to him, knelt in front of where he sat, and touched her fingers to his tense jaw in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "Have you ever caused me pain during sex, Adam? Even when you were being aggressive and demanding?"
His tortured gaze searched her features. "Not that I'm aware of."
"I can tell you that you never have, and you won't now." She framed his face in her hands, wanting that day-old stubble of his rasping across her breasts and thighs instead of her palms. But first things first. "I'm thrilled that you want me with such intensity, and I know my body, and I trust you. I'd do anything for you in this bedroom, anything at all, because I know you'd never, ever deliberately hurt me."
He groaned, long and low. "Maddie..."
She quieted him with a kiss, and this one was hot and demanding from the get-go, as if he was unleashing all the passion and hunger he'd held back for so long. It was a kiss meant to ravish, to consume, and she reveled in his response. She fanned the flames burning between them with the stroke of her tongue along his, wanting to make him hotter, harder, wanting to shatter the last of his control, obliterate it and any remaining uncertainties.
She had to get closer. Without breaking their kiss, she moved over him and straddled his lap. She groaned as his shaft pressed against her mound, an irresistible promise of what was to come. Plowing her fingers through his thick hair, she kissed him rapaciously and clenched her thighs on either side of his hips.
He ended the kiss, but before she could issue a protest his warm, moist lips were skimming along her jaw, creating a different path of heat and desire. His hand fisted in her hair at her nape, while the other stroked down her back and cupped her bottom and squeezed. Tugging her head back, he nuzzled her throat until she was dizzy and breathless, and then his mouth was traveling lower, across her collarbone and toward her aching, swollen breasts.
Her senses reeled, and she slid her hands over his shoulders and down to his chest, feeling raw power and his taut muscles rippling under her palms. She plucked at his nipples and basked in the explosive energy she felt coiling tighter and tighter inside his strong body.
His hands went to the thin straps of her top and dragged them down her arms until they caught in the crooks of her elbows and the mesh material was bunched beneath her breasts. She cupped the plump curves in her hands and lifted them to his parted lips, offering herself up to him. He closed his mouth over one firm nipple, then the other, using his tongue and teeth before sucking her hard and strong, and she cried out from the searing pleasure of it.
Panting, her hips began to move against his, rubbing along his thickened erection, seeking relief from the growing, pulsing ache between her thighs. He swore and pulled his mouth from her breast, breathing heavily, his eyes electric and hot.
She wanted him hotter. She wanted his control to snap and for him to become a wild man. With that as her goal, she lowered her mouth to his ear and whispered the naughtiest, most shockingly erotic words she'd ever spoken in her entire life. "I want you to fuck me, Adam."
His nostrils flared, and with a low, rumbling growl his restraint shattered, just as she'd hoped. Before she realized what had happened, he had her flat on her back on the bed, and he was stripping off his boxer shorts. He came back to her, gloriously naked, and she drank in the sight of him: long, powerful legs, broad shoulders, lean hips ... and so wonderfully aroused.
She quivered eagerly, anticipating his touch, his possession.
He pushed her legs apart and ran his hands up her stocking-clad thighs, all the way to the minuscule scrap of material covering her mound. He traced sensual, lazy circles through the damp fabric and stroked the pad of his thumb deep into the crevice between her thighs until she was writhing against his hand.
"God, you look so damn sexy like this," he murmured, his voice husky and filled with awe. "The only thing I want off you is your panties."
"Then take them off," she urged breathlessly.
With a wicked smile on his lips, he curled his fingers over the thin elastic band at her hip, and with one hard yank the flimsy undergarment ripped apart in his hand. She gasped, then laughed at how much his rough and ruthless actions thrilled her.
But all amusement ceased when he dipped his head and pressed his mouth intimately against the very core of her. He found her most sensitive spot with his tongue and quickly, relentlessly, took her to the brink of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. When her climax hit, it was intense and glorious and rippled through her entire body in long, shimmering waves of pleasure.
Before she could float back down to earth, Adam was looming over her, fitting himself between her thighs, and there was nothing gentle about the way he plunged into her and filled her to the hilt, nothing sweet about his deep, driving strokes.
She clasped her legs high around his waist, welcoming every hard thrust of his hips, loving the way he let go and claimed her as his. Her body embraced every inch of him, met him stroke for stroke, matching the pulsing, erotic rhythm that grew hotter and brighter with each fierce thrust.
She clenched her inner muscles around him repeatedly, putting to good use those Kegel exercises she'd practiced. He groaned and tossed back his head, arching into her, surging higher, grinding harder, moving faster, until she was gasping for breath and swept into another climax that took her by surprise.
Growling deep in his throat, he surrendered to his own fierce orgasm. His hips pressed her farther into the bed, then farther still, nearly crushing her with the violent force of his release. His breath ragged, he collapsed on top of her and buried his face against her neck.
Madison smiled, and caressed her hands down the slope of her husband's back as he recovered from his intense and draining climax, wallowing in the joy and contentment that filled her. They'd just survived a major hurdle in their marriage, and she'd emerged a stronger, more confident woman because of it – sexually and emotionally. Now it was up to the both of them to keep the passion and intimacy between them a priority, to be equal partners not only as husband and wife, but as lovers, too.
Judging by his enthusiastic response to her tonight, she didn't think that was going to be a problem any longer.
Moments later, he pushed himself up onto his forearms and gazed down at her, the primitive desire she'd seen in his eyes earlier gradually clearing into affection and the kind of tenderness she appreciated in the aftermath of their loving.
"Wow, that was amazing," he murmured, still looking a little stunned by everything that had happened.
She smiled at him dreamily, feeling like the world's luckiest woman to have Adam in her life. "Absolutely earth-shattering," she agreed.
He brushed her tousled hair away from her face, and his thumb grazed across her bottom lip. "I've never seen this assertive side to you in the bedroom before, but I have to say I like it. A little bit wild, and a whole lot uninhibited."
She glided her stocking-clad legs down the backs of his thighs and hooked her heels against his taut calves. "I'm glad you like it, because I've got a few fantasies in mind that I want to try out with you."
His deep chuckle turned into a groan. "You're gonna kill me, I just know it."
"Death by sex," she teased, and waggled her brows. "Just think, you'll die a happy man."
"Undoubtedly." Then he grew serious, his expression reflecting an endless well of devotion. "I love you, Madison, with my heart and soul. You're the other half of me that makes me whole. Don't ever doubt that."
Adam wasn't a poetic man, and she cherished his words like a romantic gift. "I love you, too."
He moved off of her and pulled her close to his side, so she was cuddled up against his chest and their legs were entwined. "Are you really okay?" he asked.
She knew what he was questioning – had he been too rough or forceful with her – his biggest fear. "I love when you get aggressive and demanding, and I've never been better."
He caressed a hand over the curve of her hip and down to the lace band holding up her stockings. "Good, because I don't think I'm done with you tonight."
She lifted her head to look into his face as her hand stroked its way down to his abdomen. "That's fine by me since we have plenty of lost time to make up for, but next time around, I get to be on top."
His eyes grew dark and hot with renewed lust. "Only if you wear those sexy stockings and heels while you're riding me, and nothing else."
She laughed, more than happy to fulfill one of his fantasies. "It's a deal," she said, and knew that everything was going to be okay.
*
Ashley kept herself busy at the front of the boutique, a perpetual smile on her face as she divided her time between inventorying their stock of designer handbags and watching out the display window for any glimpse of Scott she could get while he supervised the restoration project taking place out in the lobby.
She shook her head in amusement. God, she felt like an infatuated schoolgirl, hanging out in the most advantageous spot in hopes of the popular guy noticing her and giving her even a smidgeon of his attention. And every so often he'd glance across the registration area and smile at her in that sexy way of his, and that one small gesture was enough to carry her through the day, at least until they met up later that evening – either in person or on the phone.
That's how it had been for the past week, since the night she'd watched Sophie and he'd cooked dinner for her. There had been plenty of stolen moments and phone calls between them, along with a few meals at cozy, out-of-the-way restaurants. They always asked for a private booth, not only to remain discreet, but it also allowed them to touch and kiss and do naughty things with their hands beneath the table. They'd even gone to a movie together, except she didn't remember much of the comedy playing on the screen because they'd spent a good amount of the time necking in the far corner of the back row.
Their affair was definitely exciting and adventurous, but for all their kissing, heavy petting, and erotic foreplay, Scott always stopped short of consummation. It had been that way since she'd agreed to continue seeing him for the month, and her impatience and frustration level was rising. While he was always generous in giving her pleasure in other provocative ways, she craved that connection and sensual intimacy that came with him being deep inside of her, making love to her entire body.
The few times she'd expressed how much she wanted him and that he was driving her crazy making her wait, he'd soothe her with a kiss and a promise: We're getting there, sweetheart. And it'll be so good when it happens.
Of that Ashley had no doubt, and she wondered if tomorrow, Saturday, would finally be the evening it happened. Two nights ago on the phone he'd told her he wanted to take her out for the day, but wouldn't tell her where, just that it was someplace special and that she needed to wear a pretty dress. In her way of thinking, what could be more incredible than finally making love with Scott after being mercifully teased and sensually tormented by him the last few weeks?
She ducked her head back to her inventory sheet, thinking of the possibilities. Ashley marveled about how light and wonderful and carefree she felt, despite what an upheaval her life truly was, not to mention the added realization that she was falling hard for Scott Wilde and she had no idea what to do about her feelings.
She continued to catalogue the boutique's stock and make notes for Joan of what items the new executive manager needed to reorder. When she was done with the handbags, she glanced back out to the lobby, a habit that paid off this time around.
A shiver of delight coursed through her. There Scott was, standing across the way, sexy as sin and larger than life. And he was looking directly at her, a charming smile canting the corners of his mouth. Her breath caught as it always seemed to do around this man, and she touched her fingers to her fluttering heart. Belatedly, she realized the intimacy of the gesture in a too public place and immediately dropped her hand, though her own private smile didn't falter one bit.
Suddenly, Scott frowned and made a quick motioning gesture with his head, indicating to the right of her, and abruptly looked away, leaving her to wonder what that was all about.
"Ashley?"
Then she knew, and her stomach dropped as she realized that Evan was standing a few feet away – to her right. She'd been so caught up in Scott that she hadn't seen Evan enter the boutique. Had he been privy to their flirtatious exchange?
One look at his perplexed expression verified that he had, indeed, witnessed the exchange, but he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. And she wasn't about to enlighten him, either.
She recovered her composure with amazing speed. "Hi Evan," she said, and transferred her smile to him. "What's up?"
He glanced one last time from Scott, to her, then slid his hands into the front pockets of his pressed trousers. "I wanted to talk to you about James and find out if you've heard from him."
Oh, God, just what she didn't want to discuss – her ex-employee who'd ended up being more unbalanced than she ever could have predicted. "I haven't talked to him directly, but I've called his place twice and left messages on his recorder."
Which had been a saving grace for her, because she wasn't altogether certain what she'd say to him if he answered the phone. It was an issue she'd have to confront sooner or later, but until she had a firm resolution to the problem in mind, she'd let things play out on their own.
"He has another week and a half to pay up before we press charges and have him arrested for grand theft," Evan went on. "Make sure you remind him of that the next time you leave him a message."
Nodding, she moved to the jewelry counter and away from the window – away from Scott's direct line of vision. "I'll be sure to do that."
Instead of leaving, Evan followed her, his gaze searching her features. "Are you ready for the move to San Francisco?"
She rearranged a display of inexpensive beaded bracelets and made a note of the various colors they were low on. "I'm getting there."
"You know your father—"
"Evan, don't," she said, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. She knew what he'd been about to say, and her defenses rose. "I know what my father wants, but what about what I want? Doesn't that matter?"
Her direct, self-assured manner seemed to take him by surprise, and he stared at her for long seconds before finally answering. "Yes, it matters. You should be happy."
She sighed, hating the stress and pressure that was threatening to overwhelm her from half a dozen different directions. "Then let me do what I need to do."
"Alright," he said, but remained persistent on a personal level. "Though I have to admit that I have my own selfish reasons for wanting you to stay."
She knew exactly what those reasons were. She could see the emotions in his eyes, the hope, but he just wasn't the right man for her. So, she said simply, "I know, and you'll always be a good friend, no matter where I am."
A hint of resignation entered his gaze. Then he tipped his head, and a boyish grin made an appearance. "Do you think you and I can go to dinner before you leave? Just a friendly date, of course."
"Absolutely." She'd never wanted to hurt Evan, and she wanted to make sure that he knew they'd always be on amicable terms, especially considering his position within the company. "I'd like that."
After Evan was gone, she breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't mentioned anything about the looks that had passed between her and Scott. She was so worried about keeping her relationship with Scott private that she was certain her imagination was working overtime.
Gathering up her inventory sheets, she went back to her office, sank into her chair behind her desk, and buried her face in her hands. She felt as though everything was closing in on her, and her time was coming to an end, with James, with Scott, and the deadline to move to San Francisco.
And she no longer knew what to do about any of it.
Chapter 14
Scott pulled out of the driveway after Ashley arrived at his place and headed toward their secret destination for the afternoon and evening. Ashley was sitting beside him in his Corvette, wearing a dress as he'd asked – a pale pink creation with a fluttery type hem that ended just below her knee and swirled around her gorgeous legs when she walked. She'd worn her hair down, and she looked beautiful and classy – absolutely perfect for where he planned on taking her.
