Wilde at Heart (Wilde Security, #3)(11)

The elevator doors opened and a throat cleared. An older couple stood on the other side, dressed up for dinner. The man was trying to hide his smile, but his wife didn’t bother.

“Excuse us,” Reece said. He set Shelby down on her own two feet again and hauled her from the car by the hand. As soon as the doors shut, he pushed her against the wall and dropped his lips back to hers. “Where’s your room?”

She laughed against his mouth. “This isn’t my floor.”

He swore and let go of her long enough to reach for the elevator’s button, but she caught his hand and pulled. The alcove by the ice machine was dark, the bulb overhead burned out. She dragged him inside and tugged his shirt free, running her hands over all the delicious muscle of his back.

He growled in the back of his throat and banded his fingers around her wrists, stilling her hands. “Not here, Shelby.”

“Why not?” She let her nails bite into his skin.

“We’re going to get caught.” Even as he protested, his erection jumped against her stomach, and his grip on her wrists loosened.

“But that turns you on, doesn’t it?” Holding his gaze, she guided his hand between her legs to the place already soaked with her desire. “It does for me.”

“Jesus.” He stroked her through her panties then shoved the strip of fabric aside and dropped to his knees in front of her. “This is crazy.”

At the first swipe of his tongue, her legs threatened to give out, and she leaned into the wall for support. “Oh, but you’re so hot when you get crazy.”

His lips closed around her clitoris. The light suction sent shivers racing through her body, followed by wild flashes of heat. Her stomach muscles clenched, her hips bucked against his mouth. She’d never been with a guy who was so enthusiastic about going down on her. He was good at it, too. Knew how to use his lips and tongue and even the light scrape of his teeth to wring every ounce of pleasure out of their encounters. “Oh God. Reece—”

“Shh.” He gazed up, his eyes dark, and slid a finger inside of her. “Don’t make a sound.” A second finger joined the first and stroked a spot inside that made her go lightheaded. “Make any noise at all and I stop, understand? Nod.”

She wanted to smack him for that command, but when he stroked her again, her legs nearly gave out. She smothered a groan and nodded as another shiver of pleasure rippled down her spine.

He chuckled, and his breath fanned over her clit in a hot caress. Her thighs trembled. Hard. She locked her knees, bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. Then his tongue returned to tease her, his fingers found that spot again, and she melted. She lost herself in the orgasm, head spinning, body shaking uncontrollably. Heat swamped her, blasting away every worry, every thought, except one—she wanted him. All of him. Naked, pounding into her, sweat-slicked and out of control. God, did she want him.

When she finally floated back to herself, she opened her eyes to see Reece licking his fingers as if savoring the taste of her. And that was the biggest freaking turn-on ever. She reached for him. “Reece.”

At the sound of her voice, his eyes snapped open. He scrambled to his feet, smoothed down his tie, and walked away without a word.

He. Walked. Away.

Shelby stood there, leaning against the wall, body still humming like a live wire. What the hell? She had been putty in his very talented hands. What kind of man walked away from that?

It was like that night at The Bean Gallery all over again.

Oh, no. He wasn’t getting away with this oral-and-run routine a second time. It made her feel dirty—and not in a good way. He obviously enjoyed having his mouth on her, so why did he never want to go further than that? Why was she never allowed to reciprocate?

She walked out into the hall, glanced both ways. He was long gone, but that didn’t matter. She knew where his suite was—right across the hall from Cam and Eva’s. She jabbed the button to call the elevator.

Yeah, it was past time for Reece Wilde to get his.





Chapter Five


Jesus. Was he out of his goddamn mind?

Stupid question, Reece thought, and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the complimentary bar in his suite. When it came to Shelby, he had no f*cking sense in his head.

That girl was trouble with a capital T. In so many ways.

He yanked his tie loose and didn’t bother with a glass, downing the bourbon straight from the bottle. He relished the burn as it slid down his throat, but it did f*ck all to put out the fire raging in his blood. He pressed a palm to the ridge of his cock. Maybe if he drank enough, the damn thing would lose all interest in sassy tattooed women with impossible hair colors who tasted like spice and honey.

At the memory of Shelby on his tongue, he swore and took another long pull of the bourbon. He wasn’t one to get sloshed to solve his problems, but tonight—yeah, tonight it seemed like the perfect plan.

He raised the bottle to his lips for a third hit, but a fist pounded against his door hard enough to rattle the chain. Oh, shit. Let it be Cam or Vaughn. Maybe Greer. Hell, he’d even take Jude. Anyone but—

He pulled open the door and was thrown back against the wall by a whirlwind of turquoise and purple and indignation.

“You.” Shelby took the bottle from his hand, knocked back a swallow, and pushed the door shut with one high heel. Then she pointed into the room. “Bed. Now.”