Chapter Seven
The Morning Wood
Ingrid
Wilder kisses the side of my face, waking me in the dark room.
“It's 4:30,” he whispers in my ear. “Time to get up.”
Ugh. We're officially getting on the road today.
Honestly, I'm shocked Queen Isla of the Decrepit and Feeble agreed to work my shift at Loretta's for the next two weeks. She must be hurting for money. Or she's trying to get in my good graces after watching from the shadows as Wilder installed my new doorknob.That actually locks.
Whatever, I'll take it.
I imagine Isla's mature lover makes decent money. Then again, his house supposedly burned down. That's... kind of sad. I feel bad for the guy. I mean, I don't hate Professor Harvey the Student Impregnator. I just hate that I have to listen to him engage in activities withmy sister that are reprehensible, repulsive, and revolting.
“I'm tired,” I groan as Wilder's arm wraps around my midsection. He rubs his morning wood against me as he smirks. We're still naked from last night's sexcapade.
Despite the dread I feel traveling with my ex-boyfriend and current boyfriend, I smile. Wilderwantsme.
This might sound strange, but I thought after a few months of dating, Wilder would get tired of me. Or bored. Or uninterested. I thought he'd want to go back to his old, philandering ways. I figured he'd want out eventually. He'd want to reintroduce Wild Cox to the dating pool.
But here he is a year later, still hard for me at four-thirty in the morning.
And they say romance is dead.
“What do you say?” Wilder coos in my ear as his fingertips slide along my thigh. “Should we give Isla and Grandpa Harvey a parting gift?”
Goosebumps pebble my skin from the low cadence of his voice. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“I'm thinking 'Harder, Wilder' sounds like a fitting present.” His voice is like summer honey. Deliciously sweet and sticky.
“I don't know,” I play coy. “I wouldn't want to wake the whole house up.”
Wilder's fingers slip between my thighs, gently caressing the swollen bundle of nerves there.
“You're so wet.” He smiles against my ear.
A blush creeps up my cheeks as I spread my legs, needing more contact.
“Ingrid,” he mumbles against my hair as his fingers trail a tantalizing path. I hold back a gasp as he plunges his fingers inside me, a soft sound filling the room.
“More,” I breathe out.
“Get on your hands and knees,” Wilder instructs as a spear of heat slips down my spine.
I flip onto my stomach before pushing myself up on all fours. I'm not sure if Harvey the Hobbling Senior Citizen will hear this without his hearing aids, but I hope Isla does. I hope she's as disgusted as I am every morning when she and her gray-haired paramour copulate loudly and inappropriately.
Wilder's hands grip my hips before he pushes into me, filling me until his body presses harder against mine.
At the same moment, we both sigh, and I relax despite the heaviness forcing my eyelids closed every few seconds.
The thrusts are long and slow as Wilder's thighs smack against mine. I don't know how much time passes, but every roll of his hips draws a throaty moan from my lips.
“Louder,” Wilder coaxes as his pace increases and his fingertips dig into the flesh on my backside. “I want Grandpa Harvey to hear you even without his hearing aids.”
I smile, biting back a laugh as he tilts my hips to the side, getting a better—deeper—angle.
