“Think harder.” His tone dips. “You need to be one hundred percent all in with this. You want help. I’m here to give it, but we don’t have time for games tonight, so I’ll ask again. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.” I stare down at my feet. “I’m ready.”
“I’ll see you soon, then.”Click.He’s gone, and I’m left looking at the phone like it just set me on fire.
I hurry to the bathroom to freshen up. After brushing and flossing my teeth, I give my lips another coat of gloss and try to steady my breathing.
Then three hard knocks echo through the room.
I smooth my dress one last time, dash out, and with my heart in my throat, open the door.
“Hello, Maisie.”
I’m stunned. I wasn’t expecting my mystery date to look like he just walked off the set ofYellowstone,but I’m not complaining.
Brecken Wade fills the entire doorway, all six-foot-four of raw, muscled cowboy. With his brown hair tousled under the brim of a worn Stetson, and his brown-hazel eyes locked on me like I’m prey and a prize all at once, I swallow hard.What have I gotten myself into?His flannel shirt stretches across his chest, barely containing his muscles. I drop my gaze to his jeans without thinking, and the bulge behind the zipper makes me quickly look back up at his face.
I blank out for a second, then remember his instructions, and step forward. I’d be lying if I said it was difficult. Getting a good whiff of his leather, pine, and alpha male scent, I rise on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and give him a soft peck on the cheek. “Welcome home, honey.”
He cocks his head, lifting a brow as a slow, wicked smirk spreads across his face.
“That’s it?”
I blink, pulling back. “Well … If you were my real husband, you might be tired after a long day, or need some space after work. I didn’t want to—”
“No, no, no, darlin’.” He moves into the room and gently boots the door shut before zeroing in on me again. He cages me with his body, planting one rough hand in my hair behind my ear. The other tips my chin up so I have no choice but to meet those fiery eyes.
“What I need? What every man needs when he comes home is to have his wife waiting with hard little nipples poking through whatever she’s wearing, pussy already wet and aching for him.He wants her dying to fuck him the second his boots hit the floor. Anytime. Every damn time.”
What?I’ve never met anyone who cuts to the chase like this. Brecken’s as overwhelming as he is hotter than hell. “That’s it? Men only care about getting physical? That can’t be true.”
He leans in, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear, sending sprays of electricity through my veins. “It’s nature, baby,” he says in a low growl. “Deep down, sure, we want the sweet talk, the laughs, the partner. But if you keep us fucked good and often, we’ll put up with damn near anything else life throws at us. So kiss me like you mean it this time.”
Before I can second-guess myself, he slides one firm, possessive hand around the back of my neck, tugs me closer, and captures my mouth. The kiss is slow and deliberate at first. His lips mold to mine, coaxing, and tasting of fresh mint with a hint of whiskey. When I part my lips and his tongue slides in and strokes mine, my head starts spinning.
I melt against him with a soft whimper.
His free hand drifts down my side, skimming the curve of my waist, then up.Oh my.He wasn’t kidding. He isn’t messing around. His thumb brushes the underside of my breast before circling my nipple through the thin fabric. It pebbles instantly, tight and aching. He pinches lightly, rolling it between his rough fingers, making me gasp into his kiss as wetness floods my panties. My hips arch toward him without permission, but he pulls back, just enough to look at me with glassy, needy eyes. I detect the faintest flicker of surprise. Maybe he hadn’t expected the kiss to feel quite so much like coming home either.
“Like that,” he rasps with approval. “Greedy tongue, and arching into my hand like you can’t help it. That’s the welcome home every man wants.”
He blatantly adjusts the massive ridge in his pants and heads to the door.
I’m trembling, wobbly on my feet, still tasting his kiss. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure you’re thoroughly ready for me tonight. You still seem a bit tense and distracted.” He raises his brows. “Does your fiancé know what you’re doing? Are you cheating on him? Is that why you’re nervous?”
“No!” I blurt, “I swear, he’s totally cool with this.”
He shakes his head as if he can’t believe it without taking his eyes off me. “Hard to imagine a man who’s fine with another man fucking his woman.”
“It isn’t like that,” I explain, feeling ridiculous. “He’s having his bachelor party this weekend, and I flat out admitted there was a chance I might meet someone. He told me to have fun. That we weren’t married yet and I could use the experience. We have the rest of our lives to be faithful.”
“Well, that doesn’t make a lick of sense to me, but it’s not my place to judge your relationship. How long will you be here?”
“Four days, three nights, tonight, tomorrow and Saturday.”
“What do you think about starting over tomorrow night, so you can get a massage, take a hot tub or something, to loosen up before I get here.”
