“We’re supposed to go to this thing tonight,” I deflect.
“Yeah, the guys told me. I’ve got everything ready,” he says, pointing to the wall next to us that hides the walk-ins.
“I don’t think I can face her,” I admit to him. “I’m not ready.”
I haven’t told him more than she and I are fighting, but he doesn’t press for more. Hand to his jaw, he nods, watching me as he thinks it over.
The back door opens, an obnoxious streak of sunlight interrupting us, and when I look over, Wyatt is there. He makes eye contact with Wilder and tosses him a key fob with a quick nod, and he’s gone.
“Stay here,” Wilder tells me, hands gripping my shoulders in a way that would’ve made me want to claw his eyes out a month ago. Now, strangely, it settles something inside me.
He makes several trips, carrying silver hotel pans, platters, and an assortment that looks like a lot more than just ingredients for s’mores.
On the last one, he opens the door to the alley wide and holds out a hand for me. In my weakened state, I take it, allowing himto help me into the front seat of my sister’s SUV as he gets in the driver’s seat and starts driving.
Except the direction he’s goingisn’ttoward her house, or the Grady property.
Unbuttoning his chef jacket with one hand, he manages to take it off while driving, until he’s in just a white undershirt, and all that delicious ink is free for my eyes to roam.
It makes for a decent distraction, I’ll admit.
Once he tosses the jacket in the backseat, he reaches over, dropping a hand to my thigh and clutching it tightly as he drives one-handed, winding through the back roads he’s come to know on his bike.
I don’t have it in me to tear his hand off of me. For some reason, I think I want it there. To feel possessed by him. Like I’m his to take care of.
After minutes of silence, I give in and break it.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere private,” he says, eyes not leaving the road.
“Care to tell me more?” Some of my trademark sharp tongue makes a reappearance.
He smirks, noticing. “I’m thinking I might be able to fuck some answers out of you, little liar.”
This prescription will do just fine for me.
My thighs clench, and my eyes fight to flutter shut, but I don’t let them. Too late to hide the visceral reaction though, because his hand tightens further on my thigh and a feral grin emerges above his hardened jaw. At least he can’t feel what’s happeninginsideof me, that’d be a dead giveaway.
“Bet that pussy is already begging for me, isn’t it?”
“Begging for some time away from you,” I shoot back, biting back my smile at the feeling of normalcy this brings.
“Still sore?” he mocks.
I can never win with him.
Every time I think I get him, he hits back with something else.
“I can go easy on you, if that’s what you need,” he offers, and I scowl out the window. “But you don’t seem like a woman who wants anything soft or easy.” His chest rumbles, his voice more of a purr at this point.
Wilder’s thick fingers slide up my leg, still gripping the meat of my thigh in a hold that’s almost painful. The vice of his hand slips higher, higher, the pressure all I can focus on as he continues navigating, his eyes on the road, while he deconstructs my molecules with just five fingers.
“What am I going to find when I get to feel that cunt?”
My back arches ever so slightly in my seat as I suck in more oxygen than usual, trying to quell the sting blooming beneath his words, my nipples aching for attention already.
“Will she drip on my fingers?”
