Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Indecision swims in his eyes, but ultimately he nods. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go check it out.”
I jump from the truck with a sense of renewed strength and march toward the garage with my spine straight and my shoulders perfectly squared. I press in the code on my garage door and grip the handle, but Wilder grips my wrist. “What?”
“I go first, remember?”
I roll my eyes and step back. “Be my guest.”
“Thanks,” he says sarcastically and pushes the door open.
I watch as he steps inside and smacks the light on the wall, illuminating the small garage. A frown crosses his face, and I can’t wait another minute. “What? Tell me what you…see.” I rush inside and stop beside him with a frown on my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Wilder says with a scowl as he starts to circle the car. “From the outside, it doesn’t look like a damn thing is wrong.”
“Exactly!” I can feel excitement bubble up within me at the prospect of still having something to my name. My car means freedom. It means I can drive myself to work, and I can go to the mall to replace my tattered clothes. “I have my car!”
Wilder’s scowl darkens, and he looks up. Our eyes meet, and my excitement dies a slow death.
“He didn’t damage it. Didn’t scratch the paint or tear into the seats.”
“Yeah, that’s a good thing, Wilder.”
He’s shaking his head before he pops the hood. “It would be, except there’s a reason for it. They didn’t fuck it up, which means they probably tampered with it in another way.”
“Right? Cyrus sells cars, but he doesn’t even change his own oil.” It’s why he had such soft hands.
“Maven,” he sighs. “Think about it. There could be a tracker somewhere, so they can follow you, always know where you are. That’s best case scenario.”
Best case scenario.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the worst-case scenario. I’m not a genius, but they all rush through my mind like tiny terrifying soldiers. Cut brake lines. Ruined brake pads.
Hell, I don’t even know enough about cars to know what else Cyrus and his little friends could have done to my car. “You’re right,” I finally say as my shoulders sink in disappointment.
“Of course I am. It’s best if we just leave the car here for now. When this is all over, I’ll have my best guys check it all out to make sure it’s safe.”
“Yeah?”
He nods.
A sense of relief so great washes over me, or maybe it’s delirium from the trauma inside my house, but I find myself face to face with Wilder, arms wrapped around his neck, body flush against his. “Thank you.”
He smiles and licks his lips. “For what?”
“For being so smart,” I tell him and press my lips to his. I don’t think about it at first, but the moment our lips touch, a fire ignites deep inside of me, and I can’t help but deepen the kiss a little more. “For being kind,” I tell him and kiss one side of his jaw. “For being level-headed.”
This time I do more than press a simple kiss to those beautiful lips. My mouth crashes over his, and I devour the taste of him while his scent wraps around me and snakes into my nose. He’s all man everywhere, and I can’t get enough.
Hell, the way he’s kissing me back, squeezing my ass in his hands like it’s the best goddamn ass he’s ever felt, I’m not sure I’m capable of getting enough.
His hands are distracting me from taking charge of this kiss because it’s the only damn thing I can take charge of in the moment. In the next breath, he’s got me in the air with my feet flailing wildly before we spin, and my ass is on the potting bench I use to care for my garden.
“Maven,” he growls. “I want you so bad.”
Oh God, yes! I spread my denim-clad legs and beckon him closer. “Me too.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” he growls and steps between my thighs a beat before he cups my face and thoroughly kisses me until I’m vibrating with need. His kiss goes on and on, and I’m drunk and dizzy with the sensations he sends through me.
The button on my jeans pop, and the only sound in the garage is the harsh tug of my zipper before a low moan escapes when his fingers play along the hot slickness of my seam.
“Yes,” I moan into his mouth and let my hips flex against his hand, his nimble fingers. His fingers flit across my clit, and I slide closer to the edge of the bench. “Oh, fuck!” His finger goes deep, and I growl. “Wilder.”
He tears his lips from mine. “So fucking wet.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” I nip at his lips playfully and push my hips forward again.