“Patience.” He chuckles, ambling over to the sink and washing his hands. “There are dozens of orgasms in store for you today.” He winks at me. “Is your front door unlocked?”
“Yes,” I answer begrudgingly. “Not that it would matter since you managed to get into my house and take my cat.”
“I’ll grab you something to wear,” Shepard says, starting for the door. “Be right back.”
“You don’t know where anything is,” I protest. Him going through my belongings doesn’t sit right with me.
“I’ll figure it out.”
He’s gone before I can voice a second protest. The Wilder men are the most domineering assholes to ever draw breath. Is this what I have to look forward to? To be ignored and expected to obey without question? The hell with that. This is the twenty-first century, goddamn it. I yank the drain stopper up, pissed that my wishes are repeatedly disregarded.
“I’m no one’s lapdog,” I declare, using the handheld showerhead to rinse the suds from my body.
Shepard enters the bathroom, my small duffel bag and a towel in tow. He places the former onto the sink and hands me the latter.
“You’re in luck,” he states, his gaze lingering on my wet body. “It was the only clean one left. We don’t do laundry often.”
“We need to talk,” I state, snatching it from him. “I don’t appreciate—”
He lifts a finger to my lips. “You can air out your grievances downstairs.”
Shepard plants a chaste kiss on my cheek and then he’s gone again.
“You can bet your ass I will,” I yell, stepping onto the chenille rug.
I wrap the towel around me and pad over to my bag.
Tampons, toothbrush, deodorant, face wash, lotion, etcetera, etcetera.At least he had the common sense to bring my essentials.
“What the hell?” The creep packed my white sheer negligee and no panties. “I’ll grab you something to wear my ass.” I slam the risqué garment back into the bag. “Idiot.”
I inhale a deep breath and head downstairs, ready to give my sexy roughneck neighbors a piece of my mind, but the living room is empty. My fluffy companion is the only reason I’m not running out the front door. I won’t leave without her and they know that. Muffled voices and laughter draw my attention towards the back of the house. They’re in the kitchen cooking, based on the tantalizing smells invading my nostrils. Instead of marching straight there, I opt to do a little reconnaissance first. I glance around, inspecting their humble abode. The living room boasts scuffed but gleaming hardwood floors, auburn-brown leather furnishings, a black wooden coffee table with matching end tables, and a beautiful oriental-style area rug. The rustic décor suits them. Overall, cozy and well-kept for three bachelors who aren’t home often.
I eye the fish and game magazines scattered haphazardly on the coffee table. “Well, that’s not surprising.” They seem like the outdoorsy types.
I pad to the mantle on soft feet for a better view of the framed photographs there. In several, they stand posed with other people at various functions. I gather some are relatives based on resemblance.
“What a life they live,” I say, perusing the remaining photos.
Those detail their thrill-seeking exploits—rock climbing, snowboarding, white water rafting, windsurfing, and mountaineering. The Wilder men are serious adrenaline junkies.
“Wait a second,” I mumble, studying the last picture. “That’s Mount Everest.” I’m thoroughly impressed and so is my pussy.Stop being a horny bitch and put your foot down.
I straighten my spine and storm into the kitchen. “Where’s my Lulu?”
Beau and Shepard are playing a card game at the table while Emmett hovers over a large stockpot on the stove. Three sets of steel-blue eyes sweep my body from head to toe. I swallow hard, almost losing my nerve. No man has ever looked at me like they do—like starving lions spotting a gazelle.
“Have a seat,” Beau says, nodding at the chair beside him. “Lunch is almost done.”
“Not until you tell me where my cat is,” I snap.
“Relax, Sweet Peach,” Shepard coos. “She’s sound asleep on my bed.”
“You call this something to wear,” I retort, jabbing a finger at myself. “The hell with panties, too, right? I might as well be buck naked.”
Thanks to him, I’m walking around with a tampon string hanging between my legs.
“I agree.” He grins, mischief sparkling in his seductive gaze. “So why don’t you just take it off?”
