He balled his hand into a fist and knocked the side of his leg. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Fine, but it’s still true.”
He turned down Castle Lane and then, just before his driveway, made a quick right onto an unmarked road that Quinn hadn’t noticed. “My mom used to take me here. I was the oldest so I used to get picked by her when she went collecting.”
“Collecting?”
“She was into dried flowers as a hobby, would make botanical plates, or put them in homemade soap or do bookmarks for Christmas and birthdays. I was her assistant. Sawyer and Archer would stay home. Dad would take them on a horse or throw the ball around with them. She said she liked us having special time. It wasn’t like I was her favorite or anything. She had a thing she liked to do with each of us.”
“She sounds really wonderful.”
“She was.” He turned off the engine. “I’ve come back here since but never gone in. Never felt right, until now.”
“Gone in?”
“You’ll see.” He got out, walked around, and opened her door, taking her hand. “The snow looks like it’s a little deep in places but we should see fine with the moon this full.”
“What about you and walking?”
He arched a thick brow. “I’ll lean on you if I have to.”
She smiled. “That’s good, I’d like that.”
Their boots crunched the snow. Up ahead a cluster of dark shapes appeared in a circle. Deer.
“What are they doing?” she asked, watching as they stood in a circle, heads down, pawing at the snow.
“I leave them cracked corn,” Wilder said. “Helps them during the winter. I’ve never told anyone about this place. I guess people know, but I like to think it’s mine.” He helped her over a fallen log and the river became louder. “Here we are, Obsidian Hot Springs.”
“Hot springs?” The clearing was small, canopied by wide branches, heavily laden with a thick dusting of snow. In the river’s eddy was a small pool ringed by large stones stacked into a curving wall. By rights the water temperature should be freezing, but visible steam wafted up into the dark. “You want to skinny dip?” She glanced around nervously.
“No one else is going to come here tonight.”
“I’ve never done this before.”
“It’s simple.” He stepped forward, grinding down her jacket’s zipper. “You. Me. Nothing else.”
“I’m nervous.”
“I’ve seen you naked before.”
“I know it’s stupid.”
“No, I get it. It’s different to get naked in front of someone not in the heat of the moment. I’m nervous too. Nervous you’ll look at my body and laugh.”
“Just as an FYI, laughing isn’t the first thing that comes to my mind when I see you naked.”
He kissed her then, soft, slow, nothing urgent. He kissed her like they had time, as if they were two lovers who had a future in front of them.
“This isn’t just sex between us,” she breathed into his mouth.
“Not on your life.” He peeled back her jacket and hung it off a nearby branch. “I’ve done the no-strings sex thing. That’s all I’ve ever done.”
“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”
“I’ve hidden myself, my heart.” He kept undressing her. “Hidden from anyone who might expose me for what I am. Not a badass but just another guy who doesn’t have all the answers. It’s easier to be feared.”
She was in her bra and panties when he helped her to the edge, hooked his thumb in her silk and lace, and eased it down. “But that’s all I feel like we do to each other, expose everything.”
“Yeah. Crazy as it sounds there’s something inside of me that didn’t exist before I met you.” He offered her a hand, eased her into the water until it pooled around her thighs in a sultry caress. “Or if it did, I ignored it.”
“Which is?”
“Now is the time to do what we want. Now is the time to live. Now is our time.”
His next kiss wasn’t gentle. With every plunge and stroke of his hot tongue he showed her what he meant by being in the present.
“Come here,” she said.
“Why do you want me?”
“Maybe because you’re broken on the outside and it matches my insides? Or maybe because I’ve discovered that I like my men dark and broody with a little bit of scowl that hides how inside they are nothing but a marshmallow.”
“Marshmallow? The hell you say.”
She sank into the water, wanting to applaud when his shirt came off. She could stare at him all night. His beautiful build. That mouth, the full lower lip in particular. She wanted to bite it, suck it into her mouth while digging her fingers into his skin. Pull him close until he pushed his way in, greedy and relentless, taking from her but also taking her to a place where she didn’t feel alone. That’s what he did. Stomped in and all that niggling fear and uncertainty and regret flew away, burned off by his passion, his consuming self.
He bent to deal with his leg and the moon’s glow shined over his strong shoulders, the narrow taper of his waist, the hard bulge of his biceps.
He squatted, balancing on his hands, easing himself into the water. “You were staring.”
“Yes, sir, I certainly was.”
“You say the leg doesn’t bother you but . . .”
She slid toward him. “Because it’s hard to notice when everything else about you is so overwhelming. The crazy part is that you aren’t even my type.”
“Really.”
“Big, tough with a touch of mean. Yeah, no. I should stay away.”
“But you keep coming closer.” He made a deep, rumbling sound in the back of his throat when she took him in hand, tugged his length from root to tip, the mineral content of the water working to ease the friction.
“You’re a mistake.” Her other hand skimmed his thigh to cup his balls, thick and heavy in her hand. “The worst kind or the best, I can’t make up my mind.”
He lifted her up, set her on his right thigh, pushing her a little to indicate that she needed to start moving.
She ground against him, increasing her strokes, her clit rubbed in tight strokes, drawing back her hood, reaching the bud of hot nerves.
He settled his lips against her forehead. “You like it hard.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. So much.” Her body grew increasingly feral, as if outside here beneath the late-autumn moon she finally felt in her body. Not gangly. Not the girl next door. But someone who was going crazy, hot and stripped bare of everything but need.
“Can that sweet mouth play dirty?” He lightly bit her shoulder, his teeth softly scraping her sensitive skin, mouth hot in contrast to the cold night air. He braced himself, shifting her weight to get more comfortable. “Come on, Trouble, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Okay. Okay. You asked for it.” She braced his face between her hands, tangling her fingers in his hair, loving the rough graze of his stubble over her palms. “I want to suck you down to the back of my throat, until you’re giving me everything and I take it. I take it all.”
He moaned. “Jesus.”
Her hair fell in her face and she realized dimly it was starting to snow. Little flakes were hitting the hot water and melting. She was the snow. He was the heat. She wanted to melt all over him. But she wouldn’t take him in her mouth—not yet—she had other plans for him tonight. She shifted and he was there. Right there.
“What are you doing?”
“What I need. What you need.”
“But we’re in the water, we don’t have . . .”
“Wilder.” God, even saying his name did things to her. Some men had a name that was meant to be screamed. He wasn’t a Philip. Or a Reggie. Or a Jimmy. No, you moan Wilder. You groan it with every last bit of sanity left to you.