Twenty-Five

Oakley

“I’m sorry, Hamilton,” I began and swallowed hard, praying I could do this without giving myself away. “Something … happened. My car had some problems.”

I paused and looked at Thatcher. He nodded his approval.

“Your car? What happened to it? Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.” Hamilton’s tone was tense.

Was he worried?

“You can’t. Just … stay away from my house, okay? It’s not safe, and I don’t really have the answer as to why. I wish I could tell you more, but right now, all I know is, someone doesn’t like me, although I can’t figure out what I could have done to anyone. Other than my stepmother, but this is … intense. It can’t be her.” I was rambling.

The longer I had him on the line, the better for Wilder to get his call traced.

I forced out a laugh. “Anyway, just stay away. I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll be fine. Once this is cleared up and I can figure out what is happening, I’ll let you know.”

“No!” The fierce tone that came over the line made me jump. “If someone is trying to hurt you, then I can protect you. Let me come get you.”

Wilder turned then and gave me a nod. He had the location, and I could end this.

“I have to go. Thank you, and … and …” I looked at Thatcher, who raised his eyebrows at me. He wanted me to say it. Lie to him. “I miss you.” I ended the call before he could respond.

Thatcher grinned. “Good girl,” he said, then took the phone out of my hand, dropped it to the ground, and smashed it under his black combat boot.

I shivered, staring down at the pieces of what had once been my phone.

“Here,” Wilder said, turning to Thatcher and handing him something. “Now, go. Let her have some time to deal with this shit.”

Thatcher gave him an amused smirk before turning to leave. When the door closed and the dead bolt slid into place, I sank down onto the sofa. My head hurt, and I felt nauseous.

“Lie down,” Wilder said to me, taking the pillow from the twin bed and placing it at the end of the sofa.

I didn’t argue. The room was spinning now. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing. A blanket covered me, and I opened my eyes to see Wilder standing over me. Our gazes locked, and my stomach felt funny. Something was different.

“You did good,” he said softly. It had been so long since he’d spoken to me in a tone like that, and I didn’t know what to think. “Close your eyes. Sleep. Rest. I’ll be here. You’re safe.”

I did as he’d said, and the exhaustion from the day took over.

When my eyes opened again, they were treated to the view of a muscular, naked back, dark and damp hair, and a narrow waist before the rest of Wilder was hidden behind the counter. The smell of melted cheese and butter filled the air, and I realized he was cooking. Shirtless. He’d had a shower. Was he just wearing a towel? And was this going to happen a lot? Because I might not ever want to leave.

Feeling as if I should slap myself, but unable to move, I blinked, and thankfully, he was still there. Cooking. Flipping something with a spatula. Dear God, was that meant to be sexy? Because it was. The way his back flexed with each shift of his body. The blanket he’d put over me was getting too hot. I needed air. But if he knew I was awake, this peep show would end. Decisions.

Wilder turned then, and his gaze locked on mine. Dang. I’d been caught. I yawned and tossed the covers back before sitting up. Maybe he wouldn’t think I’d been silently ogling him. Doubtful. That was, if he had looked in a mirror lately.

“Do you feel better?” he asked with real concern in his tone.

This day could not get any weirder. Wilder worried about me was almost as out there as the fact that the guy I had been dating had put a bomb in my car.

Right. A bomb. In my car.

I was back. Focused on the issue at hand. Not a half-naked Wilder.

“Yeah. My head isn’t hurting now,” I replied, trying not to look at his chest. But I swore there was a tattoo on his left rib cage. I wanted to check it out. See what it was. Ask him when he had gotten it.

“I made some grilled cheese. Want one?” he asked. “You need to eat.”

I needed a distraction. I stood up and walked toward the kitchen side of the cave we were in.

“Yes, please,” I replied.

He nodded, still watching me as if I was about to pass out at any minute and he might need to run and catch me. The only lightheadedness we might need to worry about here was the hot, shirtless man teasing me with a view. One I hadn’t seen but once, and that had been nine years ago. That view had gotten more well defined with thicker, corded arms and a freaking tattoo I wanted to stare at but couldn’t without being caught.

“What about something to drink? We have water, soda, and beer,” he offered.

“Water is good, but I can get it,” I said, walking around the counter to see he was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

Sweet Jesus, I had to be sleeping. This was not real. There was no way this man was walking around shirtless in gray sweatpants.

“I was hot, after the shower,” he said.

My eyes snapped back up to his face. Oops.

“Oh,” I muttered, not sure what to say to that as my face heated from the fact that he’d seen me checking him out. I cleared my throat. “I wasn’t complaining,” I added, then flashed him a smile before opening the fridge to get out a bottle of fancy water.

Holding it up, I looked at him. “This looks pricey.”

He shrugged, and his broad shoulders drew me in. “The Shephards. You know how they are …”

The way his voice trailed off at that last bit made me assume he was referring to Sebastian and me dating for a while. No need to be awkward about it. He’d married my stepsister. I had only dated his friend’s younger brother … wait.

“Sebastian. He’s … one of you,” I said slowly as I let it sink in. I’d dated him seriously. He’d gotten on one knee and asked me to marry him. And had assured me that all those things people had said about their families were rumors.

“Yeah, he is. I was surprised when Thatch said Sebastian hadn’t told you. Since he had proposed. I guess I kind of thought you knew and just never talked about it.”

One would think. Getting angry with a guy who had asked me to marry him and not told me he was in the Mafia was pointless. I’d turned him down, and it had been years ago. But I was still slightly miffed.

“I suggest that when you propose to a woman again, you mention this to her. The Mafia thing. She should know.”

He turned back to the grilled cheese. “Sylvia knew. I told her before we got married.”

Okay, now, I was stunned, and as stupid as it was, I felt betrayed again. Even though they had been married, I had always felt like the connection I had with Wilder was deeper than what they had. If I had been the one to marry him, I would have done everything in my power to keep him. I would have fought for us.

I walked over to the small table, needing to get a grip. There was no need to be upset about this now. It was the past. Still, it felt as if I’d been kept in the dark. Not trusted. It stung. Pulling out a chair, I sat down and opened my water.

A plate with a grilled cheese with the edges cut off was set in front of me. I looked up at Wilder, who seemed like he was going to say something. But he didn’t. He just stared at me for a moment. The pulse in his neck caught my attention and then the way his neck flexed as he swallowed.

He turned and walked back to the stove.

“You cut off the crust,” I said, glancing back at the grilled cheese.

“You don’t like the crust,” he replied.

That did things to my chest that I wished it hadn’t. “Yeah, but you remembered.”

He stilled, then looked back at me over his shoulder. “I remember everything,” he said to me before putting another grilled cheese on a plate.

“Is that a requirement in the Mafia? To remember all details,” I asked.

Wilder turned and walked over to the table. “It helps. But that’s not why I remembered how you liked your grilled cheese.”

My eyes fell to his tattoo again, and I was going to ask, but first, I wanted to hear what he was about to say. Tearing my attention off his abs, I lifted my eyes back to his face. “Then, why did you?”

He set his plate down and sighed before taking the chair across from me. “Because, Oakley, every-damn-thing about you is seared in my brain. Not something I can control.”

For a moment, I stopped breathing. Had I heard him correctly?

He nodded his head toward my plate. “Eat.”

I picked up my sandwich but then realized I was obeying him and stopped. We were gonna have this conversation. He wasn’t going to say something like that and force me to forget it.

“Why is everything about me seared in your brain?”

He lifted his eyes to mine and took a drink from his can of beer. The power those dark eyes used to hold over me. Who was I kidding? They still did. They reached me in a way no one else’s could. They had since the first time he’d looked at me.

“We’re stuck together in a room carved inside a mountain for an undetermined amount of time. Do you really think it is wise for us to dig into that?”

Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.

“Why not, Wilder? What else is there to do?”

He set his beer down with more force than necessary, causing the tiny table to shake. “Don’t, Oakley. Whatever it is you think you’re doing, don’t.”

“You hate me that much?”

Wilder shot up out of his seat. “It’s not fucking hate,” he said loud enough for it to be a borderline shout, then stalked across the room.

I turned and watched as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I wish I hated you. I wish I could hate you.”

When he finally turned and his eyes met mine, my heart sped up. From fear of what he would say next to hope that it was something I could cling to, not something that would slice me open. Again.

“You were the only one I trusted in that family. And you were the one who stood up there in front of that judge and said my lifestyle wasn’t appropriate for a child. That she needed her mother. I know you weren’t the only person that spoke that day, but you were the only one I thought I could trust to defend me. And you didn’t.”

He sighed heavily. “But then you became Sarah’s favorite person. Her source of security and everything her mom should have been. She adores you, and I know you’d die for her. That … that makes it impossible to hate you.”

So, it was all about Sarah. Our past was only still living in my head. My heart. I was the one who couldn’t let it go. Just like in life, I was alone in this too. Thinking it and knowing it were two different scenarios. I wished, now, I hadn’t pushed. I’d stupidly thought I would get him to admit he felt something for me. That he always had. That it wasn’t just me who was unable to stop feeling things.

“I see,” I managed to say, then turned back around and picked up my sandwich. My stomach rebelled at the thought of eating, but I wasn’t going to let him know the level of my disappointment.

“No, I really doubt you do,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“You made it real clear,” I assured him.

He let out a harsh laugh, and I set my sandwich back down before looking at him. His eyes were closed, and his head was tilted back, facing skyward. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his sweats. The sight of him like that was unfair.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath as his eyes snapped open.

He took the five long strides to reach me. He leaned down and grabbed my arms, pulling me out of the chair. My chest hit his just before his mouth slammed down on mine.

For a moment, I feared this was a dream and I would wake up at any minute on that sofa. I held on to his biceps, praying this was real. That it wasn’t going to evaporate, leaving me aching. I opened my mouth to his as he ran his tongue along my bottom lip. The second he slid inside, my knees buckled, and his hands went to my waist, tugging me closer.

A growl vibrated in his chest, causing my entire body to pulse with warmth. I never wanted this to end. I was afraid that when it did, he’d push me away. Give me a taste of how it could have been, then snatch it all from me. No future. No hope for more.

I heard a whimper and realized it had come from me. It was a mixture of panic and desire. I would do anything to keep him from stopping. If he did, I was most certain I would be destroyed. Never to work correctly again. Completely damaged.

Wilder’s mouth left mine, but his lips trailed across my heated skin. Along my jawline to my neck. “Stop me,” he said in a low voice near my ear.

I shivered. “No,” I breathed, my grip on his arms tightening. I could feel my nails biting into his flesh, but I didn’t ease up. I wasn’t letting him stop this.

His teeth lightly nipped at my earlobe before he picked me up and spun me around to set me on the counter behind him. No longer in danger of melting in a puddle at his feet, I moved my hands up and over his shoulders and into his hair as he kissed down to my collarbone. His hands moved under the oversize sweatshirt, and I gasped, pulling at his hair gently as his callous palms cupped my bare breasts.

“Oakley,” he said, lifting his eyes from the bared skin, where the sweatshirt hung over one shoulder, “stop me.”

I stared down at him and licked my swollen lips. He’d kissed me hard enough to leave them tender. I wanted more of that. I shook my head, and his dark eyes turned almost black. He took the hem of the sweatshirt I was wearing and pulled it up and over my head. I lifted my arms as he removed it, realizing this was the first time he’d ever seen me like this. Not from my lack of trying back when he’d been mine.

Watching him stand there, looking at me as if he was trying to memorize every small curve of my body, made me shiver. My nipples were already hard from his hands being on them, but now, they literally hurt.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “I knew you would be beautiful, but I wasn’t prepared for this.” He reached out and ran his thumb over one of my sensitive buds. “You’re fucking exquisite.”

Having Wilder praise me was something straight out of my fantasies, but right now, I needed more. I ran my hand back up his shoulder and pulled him to me. His eyes went to my mouth, and then he gave me what I needed. The taste of him was one I had never forgotten. The way he could command every nerve in my body with just a kiss had amazed me when I was seventeen, and now, I was jealous of every woman he had kissed. I wanted him all to myself.

When his lips left mine, I started to protest, but he sucked one of my nipples into his hot mouth, and I forgot all else. Gripping his shoulders, I watched him while panting. This was by far the best sexual experience I had ever had, and we weren’t even having sex. Yet. If he tried to walk away from this and not finish, I would tie him down and do it myself.

His hand slipped into the waist of the sweatpants I was wearing, and he groaned when he found me bare underneath. “Fuck, Oakley,” he said, letting my nipple pop from his lips. “If I’d known you were naked under all this fabric I tried to cover you up with, you’d never have gotten that nap.”

His eyes stayed on mine, and I opened my legs wider as he shoved his hand between them.

“AH!” I cried out, gripping the edge of the counter when his finger slid between my wet folds.

Wilder’s eyes flared with heat as he pushed a finger inside of me. It had been a while since anything had been there. Even my vibrator. I’d gotten bored with having to pleasure myself. But this … this was on a level no vibrator could reach.

“That’s a tight pussy,” he said with a groan, never taking his eyes off my face. He began to pump his finger in and out slowly. Sounds were coming from me, but I was too lost in this moment. I had no clue what I was saying or doing. I just didn’t want him to stop.

“So damn gorgeous; it hurts,” he rasped before taking the sweats and pulling them off me, leaving me naked and on display. “Goddamn, it just keeps getting better.”

He placed his hands on my knees and spread my legs. My body flushed as he looked at me there. It wasn’t that I was a virgin or anything because that ship had sailed with Sebastian. But it was that Wilder was the one touching me. Seeing me like this.

His hands slipped down to my calves, and he gripped them, then bent my knees, bringing my feet up until my heels were on the edge of the counter. My chest was rising and falling so quickly as I struggled to catch my breath. Wilder slipped his hands under my butt and pulled me forward just before he lowered his mouth. The world around me faded away the moment his tongue flicked over my clit. I cried out as my hand went to his head and held him there as I began to tremble. I wanted to watch. See him kiss me, taste me, but I was also fighting the pure euphoria of the experience, and my eyes wanted to close and get lost in it.

“So fucking sweet.” His husky voice vibrated against me, and I moaned, helpless.

He could do and say whatever he wanted. I was his to use.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

I opened my eyes to see him licking me as he shoved his hand into the front of his sweats and pulled out his erection, wrapping his fingers around it. The muscles on his arm flexed as he pumped himself while continuing to ravish me with his mouth.

He lifted his eyes to lock with mine. The hunger in them matched my own, and I was suddenly jealous of his hand for being the one to bring him pleasure. I wanted to do that. I tried to tell him just that when he slid a finger inside me as his tongue work got more intense. All that came from my lips were sounds from the frenzy building inside of me.

“Wilder,” I cried out as the crest began to pull at me.

“I want to taste it,” he said, not stopping what he was doing. “Come on my face, baby.”

That one request was all it took. I arched my back as bliss flooded my body. I shook when Wilder stilled.

His eyes were on my face as his mouth fell slightly open and his body jerked. “Fuuuuck,” he groaned, and I trembled as another climax overtook me from the sight of Wilder coming. His release shot out, splashing the inside of my thighs and the counter.

The only sound was our ragged breathing as we both came down from our orgasms. When he pulled his sweats back up, covering himself, and reached over to grab a hand towel to clean me up, I took it from him. He wasn’t going to close up on me now. Not after that. I refused to allow it.

“I was going to wipe up my mess,” he said.

I took my time doing it while he watched me before dropping my legs over the counter and handing him back the towel. His eyes were on my naked body, and I sat there, letting him look. I’d do whatever I needed to do to make sure he wasn’t going to go back to the way we had been. If I had to use his desire for my body, then so be it. I was weak and willing to take whatever I could get from the man.

“I’ll get your clothes,” he said and started to move, but I reached out to grab his arm. He looked down at it, then back at me. “I need to cover you up, Oakley.” His eyes slid back down to my chest.

He had a weakness, and I was going to abuse it. I’d judge myself later.

“Why?”

He tensed under my hand, and his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Because I want to fuck you and we don’t have a condom down here.” He lifted his eyes back to mine. “Now, let me dress you before I lose my goddamn mind.”

I could be a good girl and do what he’d said, or I could be a bad girl and do what he wanted. I was going with the latter. It had been nine years of wanting a man I couldn’t have. We were stuck in this room, and I was taking advantage of it. Because when we were set free, I wanted to be sure he wouldn’t shut me out. Put me at a distance. Return to hating me.

“I’m on the shot, and I’ve not had sex in three years. I’ve been tested,” I told him.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. “That’s a long time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“Why has it been that long?”

Here it was. My moment to lay it all out there. Be completely vulnerable. Give him the power to crush me. I was going to take it.

“Because they were never you. I got tired of trying to find a replacement.” There’s some honesty for you, Wilder Jones.

His nostrils flared, and he inhaled sharply. “I can’t fuck you just once. It won’t be enough.”

“I’m counting on that,” I replied, leaning forward and closer to him. Reaching out, I ran a nail down his chest.

“Dammit,” he muttered, then grabbed my waist and picked me up.

I wrapped my legs around his hips as he carried me over to the bed.

“This is a bad idea,” he warned me, dropping me onto the mattress, but his eyes flared as he watched my breasts bounce.

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” I replied, licking my lips as I stared up at him.

“This can’t change anything between us,” he said, breathing hard. “We can’t be more than friends. There is too much shit between us, and Sarah couldn’t handle the fallout when the sex wasn’t enough anymore.”

Those words hurt. I didn’t want to hear him tell me this was just a fuck. But his eyes were telling me something else, and that was what I clung to.

“Okay. If that is the way you want it,” I agreed, knowing I was going to do my best to change his mind.

If he let me, I could love him enough for both of us. I would never be done with him or this. Sarah would have us both. All the time.