The Wilde Side (4 page)

Lost in the wondrous release of all the pent-up desire they'd stoked out on the dance floor, Ashley reveled in the unadulterated passion exploding between them – without thoughts of rules or propriety or her past getting in the way of her pleasure. Letting instinct take over, she slid her hands around to his jean-clad bottom, molded her palms to his firm buttocks, and arched into him.

The effect was like pouring kerosene to a flame, and he slanted his mouth over hers for a deeper kiss, a hotter, wetter possession. His hand stole beneath her top, and she shivered as his fingers skimmed their way upward, then curled around the plump curve of her breast. Her bra was lacy and sheer, the fabric thin and insubstantial, and she was eternally grateful that there was no excess padding to separate the heat of his touch from her aching flesh. Then he found her nipple and rolled the taut, throbbing tip between his thumb and forefinger, and she nearly came undone right then and there.

As if sensing just how fast their encounter was spiraling out of control, he slowed their kisses, leaving her feeling flushed and both of them breathing fast. As she tried to calm her erratic heartbeat, he licked the inside of her mouth, gently bit on her lower lip, and soothed the slight sting with the soft, damp stroke of his tongue.

Eyes closed, she let her head fall back against the wall, exposing the column of her neck. With his hand still on her breast, he dipped his head, his silky-soft hair brushing her jaw as he suckled on a patch of skin, then nibbled his way up to her ear. She inhaled a sharp breath as another surge of sensation swamped her and drew in the warm, masculine scent that was uniquely his own.

Lord, he smelled delicious. She wanted to take a big bite out of him and lick his warm, salty skin, feel the heat and hardness of him against her lips, taste him with her tongue....

She groaned at the wonderfully improper thoughts filtering through her mind. "Oh, God," she said huskily. "This is so crazy, in a fantastic, exciting kind of way."

A gust of hot breath rushed along her neck as he chuckled and flicked his thumb across her rigid nipple. "That's certainly one way of putting it."

She smiled, amazed at how comfortable she felt with this man she'd just met. He was so easygoing, so unpretentious yet confident in a very appealing way. "Here I am, letting you ravish me, not that I'm complaining because it's exactly what I want, but I don't even know your name."

He lifted his head, his brilliant blue eyes and sexy smile arousing her all over again. "Then let's resolve that little problem, because I don't think I'm near to being done
ravishing
you. I'm Scott Wilde," he said, and withdrew his hand from beneath her top, smoothing the hem back around her hips. "And you are?"

She ran her fingers lightly up his arms, knowing this was where her anonymity came into play. And for a one-night fling, he didn't need to know anything more than her first name. "I'm Ashley."

"Ashley...?" he prompted curiously, and absently stroked the backs of his long, warm fingers along her cheek.

The tender caress was so at odds with the insatiable kiss they'd just shared, but she couldn't deny that she liked feeling a little bit cherished despite her birthday wish for a night of debauchery. "Tonight, it's just Ashley."

"Okay,
Just Ashley
," he teased, respecting her wishes, much to her relief – because exposing her last name was a make-or-break deal for her. "So, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

She rolled her eyes, and her light laughter mingled with a groan. "Ahh, now there's the pickup line I was expecting." Except coming from him, it didn't feel like a come-on at all, but rather an earnest question. "And what makes you think I'm a nice girl?"

He casually braced his forearm above her head, keeping her in place between the cool wall and his hot body. "Because you
look
like a nice girl, and I've never seen you here before."

She gave him a slow, sultry smile, one that would hopefully erase that "nice girl" image he seemed to have of her. "Looks can be very deceiving."

"Are you saying that yours are?" he asked, studying her with too much interest.

"Only if you think I'm a nice girl." She fluttered her lashes flirtatiously at him.

"Only in the best possible way, sweetheart," he replied in a deep, rumbling murmur that strummed along her nerve endings in the most stimulating way.

Ashley didn't know how he managed to be so perceptive, so insightful. It was as if he could see deeper than the surface of the daring woman she'd allowed herself to be for a night. And that wouldn't do at all when she had no intentions of sharing her real identity with him.

"However," he went on as he slowly wound a strand of her hair around his finger, ensnaring her in more ways than one. "After doing a little dirty dancing with you and sharing such a mind-blowing kiss, I'm definitely convinced that there's a bad girl lurking beneath your designer clothes and expensive perfume."

Damn
. Was she that easy to read? She felt caution rise to the surface, along with a protective barrier that was pure self-preservation. "How would you know anything about my clothes and perfume?"

He shrugged, and trailed his finger along the side of her neck, to the rapid beat of her pulse at the base of her throat. "The clothes were just a guess, because the women who frequent this bar are into simple jeans and T-shirts, which is why you grabbed everyone's attention the moment you walked in the door. You look like fresh pickin's in your pink top and white skirt with the sexy little ruffle on the bottom. Every guy in the place couldn't help but notice you."

Which was exactly the effect she'd been striving for. She could understand how he'd come to such a conclusion about her outfit, but what did the man know about women's fragrances when most guys didn't know one scent from another? She wondered if maybe
he
was masquerading as someone else for the evening, pretending to be a regular Joe when he was really some rich playboy out for a good time. The irony of that possibility wasn't lost on her.

She tilted her head curiously. "And my perfume?"

A wry smile tipped the corner of his mouth. "I know it's the good, expensive kind because I have a sister, and every time she wears the cheap stuff it tickles my nose and I sneeze like there's no tomorrow." He lifted her wrist to his face and inhaled deeply. "I could breathe in your perfume for days and never sneeze."

Which explained the reason why he'd leaned in close and breathed in her scent earlier at the bar. The man was not only sexy as sin, but he was full of surprises, as well, which would hopefully make for an interesting, and adventurous, evening.

He brought her hand to his chest and pressed her palm right over his beating heart, his gaze searching hers. "I answered all your questions,
Just Ashley
, so how about you answer mine?"

She frowned, trying to recall what he'd asked her. "Which was?"

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

So, they were back to that again, she thought, and realized this was her chance to let him know exactly what her intentions were tonight and what she wanted from him. "Well, it's my thirtieth birthday, and this nice girl is looking to be bad."

"I think you've done a good job so far of upholding that aspiration," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I hope so, because I have some major sinning in mind." She licked her lips, a tad nervous on the inside despite her outer poise – mainly because she'd never propositioned a man before. "Care to be my birthday present tonight?"

Abrupt laughter erupted from him, and he shook his head incredulously. "You sure do know how to get a man's attention, don't you?"

She tossed her hair back in a sassy move, and the layered strands tumbled over her shoulders in soft disarray. "I only want
your
attention."

He groaned. "You've got it, sweetheart, because I'm finding it difficult to refuse your very tempting offer."

She heard the slight hesitation in his voice and rushed to sway him. "Good, because I don't want you to, so say
yes
."

His expression turned too serious, that honesty she'd seen down at the bar when he'd first approached her coming into play again. "Make no mistake about it, I want you like I haven't wanted another woman in a helluva long time. I think you've seen plenty of evidence of just how much you turn me on, but I don't do one-night stands as a general rule."

She was glad to hear that he wasn't the type of guy who slept around with a slew of women – his principles thrilled her, actually, because for as much as she craved a reckless night of abandon with him, a part of her didn't want to be another faceless female for him come the morning. She'd rather this evening be just as memorable for him, too.

She decided to be just as truthful and prayed he'd make an exception tonight – with her. And she knew if he refused her request, that would be the end of her campaign to find herself a one-night-only lover, because after experiencing the scorching chemistry between them, no other man would do.

"Despite what you might think because of my brazen behavior, I don't do one-night stands either." She laughed, the sound more strained than she'd intended. "In fact, it's been so long since I've been with anyone sexually that I've almost forgotten what it's like." Good Lord, she thought with an inward cringe of embarrassment, had she
really
said that aloud?

He smiled wryly, in a way that told her she had, indeed, voiced her thoughts. "I believe you. About the one-night stands."

I believe you
. He'd said the words with such conviction, it startled her. He didn't even know her, yet he trusted her claim implicitly, without question, without judgment. And it was that acceptance that tugged on her emotions in a way that was altogether too dangerous considering this was supposed to be nothing but physical attraction and pleasure.

"As for forgetting what sex is like," he went on huskily. "My guess is that the men you've been with have been more concerned about their pleasure, than yours."

All true, and judging by their instantaneous attraction and the rapacious way he'd kissed her, she instinctively knew that Scott was not like all those other men; not that there had been many, but she had no doubt if this went any farther, he'd be the most memorable to date.

"I'll admit that none have ever come close to making me feel as excited and reckless and aroused as you've managed to do in a very short span of time," she said as she walked her fingers up to his chest. "And because of that, I'm willing to make an exception to that one-night stand rule and color outside the lines of decorum a bit. I want to take a walk on the Wilde side with you," she teased. "Just one night of incredible, anything goes pleasure."

She bit her bottom lip, saw the dark desire in his eyes, and forged on with determination and purpose. "So, tell me, Scott Wilde. Are you willing to be my birthday present tonight and fulfill my deepest, most erotic fantasies?"

Chapter 3

S
cott stared at the beautiful woman in front of him, her green eyes wide with the same anticipation he felt thrumming through his veins. She was all but offering herself to him on a silver platter, and like a man starved for the taste of something rich and decadent, he wanted to eat her up, bit by delectable bit.

And then do it all over again.

As the silent seconds stretched between them while he considered her request, he could see her confidence faltering, which only backed her claim about her lack of experience when it came to frivolous flings; not that he ever doubted her, but that vulnerable glimpse told him that there was so much more to
Just Ashley
than met the eye.

And despite having traveled down a similar road before with disastrous results, he was intrigued enough, turned on enough, to agree to her very tantalizing proposition. Ultimately, he wasn't willing to let her go, not before he had a chance to get to know her better.

"Well?" she prompted softly, anxiously.

He rested his hand on the gentle swell of her hip and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday, Ashley," he said, hoping like hell he wasn't making a huge mistake he'd come to regret later. Hoping, too, that his instincts were leading him down the right path this time. "Consider me yours for the night."

He could tell that she half expected him to get on with the "incredible, anything goes pleasure" she'd asked for, but he wasn't one to rush a good thing ... especially when it came to sex. He liked to savor the seduction: enjoy the slow, arousing buildup of hot, I - have - to - have - you - now kind of foreplay; make all that spine-tingling sexual tension last so when they finally came together there would be no forgetting what sex with
him
was like.

"I think we ought to celebrate your birthday with a drink." He flashed her a wicked grin as an idea formed in his mind. "Something fun and sexy. Ever had a body shot before?"

"Ahhh, no," she said, but the depths of her eyes flickered with interest and excitement.

He skimmed his fingers along the curve of her waist and watched as her nipples peaked against her top. Her natural response to his touch caused his own body to tighten in places, too. "Are you feeling daring and adventurous?"

She laughed breathlessly. "Absolutely. Bring it on."

Amused by her enthusiasm, he moved away from her and strolled to the intercom on the wall and pressed the black button to buzz Jerry, the bartender. Seconds later Jerry came on the line, and Scott order two shots of tequila, lime wedges, and a shaker of salt. When he was done, he turned around to find Ashley taking in her surroundings: the pool table in the center of the room, the dart boards on the wall, and a round poker table off to the side.

Her curious gaze came back to him. "What is this place?"

"A private room for parties." It had been the first place he'd thought of to be alone with her, away from the prying eyes and listening ears down at the bar.

She idly trailed the tips of her fingers along the mahogany-finished edge of the pool table, a smile curving her lips. "You use this room often?"

"A few times, and I've never brought a woman up here if that's what you're wondering," he said, and decided to share a part of himself in hopes that she'd eventually do the same. "The place is great for bachelor parties. In the past couple of months two of my cousins have gotten married, and a third one, Adrian, is going to tie the knot in about a month. So, we'll be using the room again real soon for another party. It seems to be becoming a Wilde tradition."

Pulling an orange-striped ball from one of the pockets, she rolled it across the table. "Aren't you breaking tradition by bringing me up here?"

"Not the way I see it. You and I are having a party. A birthday party." He watched as she withdrew another ball and this time used it to clip the first one into a corner pocket with surprising accuracy. "Speaking of which, why aren't you out celebrating your birthday with family or friends?"

"I already did." She offered nothing more, and before he could turn the conversation into a more personal one, she asked, "Would you like to play a game of pool?"

"You play pool?" he asked, intrigued. With her obvious sophistication he never would have pegged her as the type to indulge in a recreational game mainly found in sports bars.

"Yep. And pretty darn well, too." She started emptying all the balls out of the leather-tooled pockets around the table. "I grew up playing billiards with my father."

Billiards. The fancy, refined word for "pool" gave him another subtle clue to the woman – to go along with the clothes, her poise, her perfume. "Sure, I'll play a game with you. But don't expect me to go easy on you."

"Hah!" she said with a haughty toss of her head and a playful grin on her lips. "Ditto for me. I don't like to see grown men cry, so don't be a spoil sport when I win."

He chuckled, enjoying her sass, confidence, and the challenge she'd issued – along with the way she was loosening up and relaxing with him. They both knew how this night was going to end, but it was nice that they were going to have a little lighthearted fun along the way.

The bar waitress arrived with the items for the body shots, and Scott took care of the tab and tip and set the tray on a nearby table.

"What would you like to play for?" she asked as she retrieved the triangular racking device hanging from a hook on the wall.

A whole slew of licentious ideas tripped through his mind: strip pool, truth or dare. And then there were those shots of tequila just waiting to be put to good use. "How about the winner gets to take the first body shot and also gets to pick where the wet spot is gonna be."

"The wet spot?" A delicate, honey blond brow arched over eyes filled with avid curiosity. "Please, do enlighten me."

"The wet spot is the very best part of a body shot," he told her as she began racking the balls like a pro. "That's where the winner gets to moisten a part of the loser's body with their tongue to make the patch of skin wet so they can sprinkle salt on the spot before licking it off, then downing a shot of tequila and lime for a chaser. Normally, the wet spot is on the neck, but to make the game more interesting, let's say the winner can pick where they want the wet spot to be."

Her warm gaze drifted from his chest all the way to his thighs, then slowly back up again, visually touching him in all his most arousing places. "Hmmm... The possibilities of that are endless and potentially scandalous, aren't they?"

"Foreplay always has the potential to be scandalous," he said with a wink. "Do you have a problem with that?"

She shook her head. "Not one bit."

"Good to hear." He handed her a cue stick. "Since it's your birthday, you take the opening break shot."

"Thank you." She chalked the tip of her cue stick, then met his gaze. Pursing her lips into a soft, sexy pucker, she blew off the excess powder, nearly blowing his mind by how inherently sexual she'd managed to make the common and simple action.

That should have been his first clue that he was in for the most provocative game of pool he'd ever played.

She strolled to the opposite end of the table and deliberately brushed past him on her way. Her fingers grazed the back of his jean-clad thigh, and the plump curve of her breast skimmed his arm, causing another surge of heated awareness to ripple through him like an electrical charge. Placing the cue ball on the table, she leaned down and lined up her opening break shot, giving Scott an alluring, mouth-watering view of the sweet, luscious cleavage nearly spilling from the neckline of her lace-edged top.

A loud
crack
rent the air, and he watched as her shot sent the balls scattering across the felt-covered surface. Three balls dropped into various pockets – one stripe and two solids. She chose solids, and the game was on, as was her blatant attempt at seducing him.

She moved around the table with a grace and sensuality that held him riveted and kept his body at a slow, heated simmer of arousal – just as she'd no doubt intended – and he couldn't wait for the chance to get even, except she never gave him the opportunity to take a turn of his own. She cleared all the solids without missing a shot, leaving only his stripes and the eight ball on the table.

While a lesser man might have felt threatened and put off by getting his ass kicked in a game of pool by a woman he'd just met, Scott couldn't help but admire her skill and finesse. Obviously, she could hold her own and had the ability to keep him on his toes, and he liked that kind of invigorating challenge that kept things interesting and exciting.

She came up to him, her expression already triumphant, and stroked her hand along his jaw in a slow, sensual caress he felt all the way down to his groin. "Eight ball, far corner pocket, for the game win and the right to choose the wet spot."

He groaned, already hard and aching at the thought, and she didn't help his current condition any when she bent over right in front of him to line up her final shot. The material of her skirt molded to her perfectly rounded bottom, and when she cocked her hip to adjust her stance, the flurry hem of her skirt fluttered against the back of her thighs, tempting him to reach out and touch that soft, smooth-looking skin and see where it all led.

She made her shot, won the game, and turned back to him, her eyes bright with her victory. "Better luck next time," she said as she sauntered over to the table with the tray of waiting tequila and crooked her finger at him to follow. "Now come on over here and pay the piper."

Setting his cue stick aside, he did as ordered, wondering if she'd be daring and reckless or if she'd play it safe and keep her wet spot limited to his neck.

Splaying her hands on his chest, she skimmed her flattened palms downward, until her fingers came to a halt at the waistband of his jeans. Licking her bottom lip, she tugged his T-shirt out of his pants, slipped her hands beneath the hem, and slowly, leisurely dragged the material upward, exposing the flat, taut expanse of his stomach.

She leaned into him and kissed the corner of his lips as she dipped her finger into his navel, then feathered the tips along a sensitive patch of flesh just below his navel. "I choose right ...
here
," she murmured.

His pulse bucked, and every muscle in his body went rigid. Okay, so he'd underestimated her, which only made this moment more erotic and exciting.

She sat down in a chair, and with her hands on his hips she pulled him toward her until he was standing between her parted knees and her mouth was level with her intended target area. Then she tipped her head back and looked up at him with a sultry, bad girl smile that told him she liked having him under her power.

"Tell me how to do this again," she said huskily.

He exhaled a deep breath, hoping like hell he survived the next few minutes of having Ashley's mouth on him so intimately. "First, moisten the patch of skin with your tongue, then add the salt."

She did just that, quickly and efficiently, leaving Scott feeling both relieved and frustrated by her perfunctory action.

"Now what?"

"Lick the salt, down the tequila, and suck this wedge of lime I'll have in my mouth." He took the said piece of fruit and caught it between his teeth.

This time, she lapped at him more thoroughly with broad sweeps of her tongue before leisurely trailing the tip over the ridges of his hard, flat belly. After branding him with wet fire, she nibbled and suckled on the patch of skin to remove the granules of salt, and he felt that suctioning pull in ways that made his knees buckle and his heart beat a hammering rhythm in his chest.

Her full breasts pressed against his thick, aching erection confined behind denim, cushioning his cock with a perfect pillow of softness that made him throb with a growing, aggressive kind of need. Unable to help himself, he slid his fingers into her silky hair and cupped the back of her head as she continued to work magic with her lips and tongue, the innate carnality of their position spinning heady fantasies of that soft, giving mouth of hers traversing its way lower...

His breathing grew rough and uneven. He could feel his restraint disintegrating, and the last thing he wanted was for all this to end before he had a chance to extract his own sexy payback.

"The tequila," he rasped.

She tossed back the shot and swallowed with a grimace as the fiery liquid slid down her throat. Tightening his hands in her hair, he pulled her back up the length of his body and offered her the lime between his lips. She sucked on the plump, juicy wedge before Scott tossed it aside and engaged her in a tart, tequila kiss that was greedy and hot and wildly uninhibited – and not nearly enough to quench the desire coiling tighter and tighter within him.

What seemed like minutes later, he finally let them both up for air and pulled back enough to look at her face. Her breathing was ragged, her cheekbones flushed with unquenched passion, and her eyes shimmered with energy and fire and the sweet lure of temptation.

Then her kiss-swollen mouth curved into a smile that was pure come-hither enchantment. "Did I do okay?"

He choked on a burst of laughter and untangled his fingers from her hair. "Any better and I would have gone up in flames."

"Ummm." She leaned into him and gently, playfully, tugged on his lower lip with her teeth. "You're very tasty."