Page 3 of One Wild Wish

She leaned closer and shouted, “Sorry, what?”

I inhaled deeply and, remembering Gwen’s sexuality comment, I screamed as loudly as possible, “Eating pussy!”

But the music had shut off. Abruptly. At once.

All nearby heads cranked my way.

Gwen tipped over, grabbing her belly as she nearly laughed out a lung. Ainsley followed suit. My cheeks and neck flamed, my freckles likely glowing.

The music returned just as quickly, most people picking their conversations back up, all except one man who did not belong in this swanky club filled with hair gel and primped women. With his threadbare jeans and a buckle that could double as a boxing championship belt, he’d have been more at home in a backcountry bar. Add his boots, that looked like they’d marched to China and back, the shaggy black hair, five-day scruff, and the ink peeking out of his cuffed sleeves, and he was maybe more biker than backcountry.

The girls were chatting again, and I tried to listen, catching the odd word from Gwen about her job at the adoption agency or Ainsley gushing about some new purse, but my attention kept drifting back to that man. That dude. That bad boy.

His gaze didn’t shift from mine. Not cocky, exactly, but confident. One elbow on the bar, he leaned on it as though he owned the place. My attention shouldn’t have been snagged on him, but he was gorgeous, smoldering the way he was, intensity in the sharp lines of his face.

“That guy is staring at you like you’re dinner.”

I swung my attention back to Ainsley. “Because Gwen told me to own my sexuality, and everyone and their mother heard me scream eating pussy.” Words I apparently couldn’t keep contained.

“I wish we had that on video,” Gwen said. “I’d play it at your wedding. And anniversaries. And funeral.”

I flicked her arm. “Glad to know who my friends are.”

She rubbed her bicep. “Whatever. You’d do the same.”

“Probably.”

“Seriously,” Ainsley said, still focused on Bad Boy. “That guy hasn’t even blinked, and he’s crazy hot. He has that whole lone wolf thing going on.”

Gwen propped her chin on her hand. “He could be on Sons of Anarchy. I bet he knows how to ride. A Harley,” she added with a wink.

Jesus. Like I needed to add that visual to all the rough and tumble he had going on. But I did. With relish. It had been ten long months since I’d had sex, and any sex I’d experienced had always been nice. Fine. The word that encapsulated my life. I’d never experienced the type of sex I read about in romance novels, with the arched back and lust-filled moans and dirty words whispered against sweaty skin. I’d bet my Chateau Montelena Chardonnay that Bad Boy knew how to make a good girl like me fall to her knees and fall apart around him.

I sipped my Pinot Grigio. Gulped may have been more like it, my buzz buzz-buzz-buzzing through my veins.

That’s when Bad Boy kicked off the bar, all that grit and swagger aimed right for me.

“Oh my God.” This from Ainsley.

“Holy shit.” Gwen’s acute observation.

What the hell?Embarrassment still burned my neck, but something hotter burned lower.

Bad Boy neared our table, his cheekbones and strong nose a study in male magnetism. A beer bottle swung from his hand, a few rings on his fingers glinting, the thick leather cuff around his wrist impossibly manly. His eyes were zeroed in on me. Because I’d screamed pussy in a crowded room.

The girls gawked as he stopped at my side. He placed a presumptuous hand on my back, on the area left bare by my top’s dipping fabric. “I’d like to buy you a drink.”

There was no question in his tone. No “can I?” or “would you mind?” Not that I could focus on much with his hand gliding over my skin, the tips of his fingers curling around the back of my ribs. This man definitely knew how to ride.

And I promptly said, “No.”

“Pretty sure your eyes said yes. They practically called me over here.”

Hello, overconfident. “You should pay attention to my mouth, then.”

“That I am.”

Excuse me?Never had a man been so forward, so unapologetic in his advances. My fingers floated to my neck, my skin burning hot. “The answer is still no.”