Page 5 of Chasing Wild Heart (Sexy as Sin)

Why the fuck am I here? I berate myself, standing awkwardly outside the locked building door leading to Juni’s apartment.

The darkness from the third-floor window suggests she could be tucked in for the night, but deep down, I don’t think that’s true. I couldn’t even explain my logic because I don’t even know why I’m here. At an hour where most of the residents in the neighborhood are turning in for the night. Where a handful wander out for a few drinks at the nearby haunts.

Where a tired neighbor might glance out the front window and spot a twenty-something white male acting suspiciously near a closed diner and hair salon.

Twenty minutes ago, I was settling to watch a few episodes of Taskmaster (the British version, not the short-lived U.S. one). But seconds later, I was trading my comfy joggers for jeans and walking into the cold, dark night.

The liar in me whispered I was heading toward the dive bar for a drink or two, but my mind didn’t believe that for a second. Especially when my brisk pace didn’t falter for a nanosecond as I passed the neon sign in the window and the faint sounds of people laughing and talking inside.

Why the fuck am I here? My mind screams as I peek at my phone in my hands, debating if I should call her.

“Dash?”

“Argh!” I warble out nervously, turning around so fast my phone slips from my fingers, and I’m frantically juggling air and nerves to catch the device. Luckily, it lands in my open palm, and a sigh of relief escape through my lips.

Stuffing my phone into the pocket of my coat, I smile hesitantly and study her for a moment under the faint glow of the streetlight on the corner. Her tired eyes hold a mix of curiosity and amusement. Her shoulders slump from the weight of carrying her backpack and gym bag.

My eyes dart around her, noting we’re the only two people standing outside in the late October cold. Where the hell did she come from? Has she always been a stealthy little ninja?

“Are you okay?” Juni asks, moving past me to unlock the door.

Nope. Not even close.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammer, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. “I think so. Are you just getting home from school or something? It’s kinda late.”

A small part of me dies from embarrassment.

She shoots me a puzzled look but says nothing else before stepping inside and holding the door open for me. “Want to come inside?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah. Thanks.”

Dear God in heaven, please kill me now.

I survey the small entryway as Juni flips on the light and drops her bags at the bottom of the stairs to grab some mail sitting on a small shelf. The area between the door and the first set of steps is comfortable enough for two people to hold a normal conversation.

My eyes trail over Juni’s shoulder and wander up the long and narrow flight of dark green carpeted stairs. Motion-sensor lights stuck to the white walls brighten the path between the two light fixtures at the bottom and top.

“Wanna come up and see my place?” she asks, tucking her mail into an outside pocket of her gym bag.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” I gulp, picking up her backpack, and shoot her a hard look that leaves no room for arguments.

Juni holds up her hands in mock surrender before turning and starting the ascent.

My ego huffs with victory after passing the first landing. Of course, the close view of Juni’s shapely ass serves as a great distraction.

But all that changes in a matter of seconds before hitting the second landing. My calves are yelling at me for being a stupid, stupid man, and my lungs are ready to give up on life. Even Juni’s butt can’t save me.

I want to collapse against the wall and gasp for air when we reach the final landing outside her door. But I don’t because my broken pride won’t let me. Apparently, three flights of stairs have the power to strip a man of his dignity in a matter of seconds.

Juni peeks at me before turning her back to unlock the door, and I discreetly as I fucking possibly can suck in much needed air into my withering soul.

As soon as I step into the open studio space, I understand her reasons for living here. Bricks walls. Exposed wooden beams. Wide windows. Wood floor. So much room.

If any of my sisters lived here, they would’ve set up makeshift walls with bookcases or whatever Pinterest suggested to create separate rooms. Dividers aren’t necessary to see how Juni separated the areas into three distinct spaces.

An unmade queen-sized bed sits a few feet away from an open door, which I’m guessing leads to the bathroom. Two short wooden cubicles serve a dual purpose of a nightstand and bookshelf. Any clothes not folded neatly in one of the open cubbies or stashed in a tall white laundry basket are hanging from a clothes rack normally found in retail stores.

The basic appliances – refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher – plus the sink, laminated marble counters, and cabinets overhead line one wall to create a one-sided galley kitchen. A small wooden table with four matching chairs rounds out the second area.

Tall easels and a second set of wooden cubicles sit on top of a few floral rugs splattered with paint and other art materials. The layout and prime location near the open windows create a makeshift art studio.

“So, wanna tell me why you’re here?” Juni asks, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on a hook by the door.

“I was in the neighborhood,” I murmur, watching her open the refrigerator.

She huffs exasperatedly, bumping the door closed with a hip check, and holds out a bottle of water for me.

“Thanks.” I crack open the seal, grateful for the cold beverage, as my eyes roam over dozens of sketches covering the table.

“Dash,” Juni barks out sharply. My neck snaps up to find her scowling and leaning back against the counter. “It’s late, and I’m tired. I honestly don’t have time to guess what you want.”

“I think I want you.” Both our eyes go wide at the words that simply bypassed my mental filter.

“What?” she squeaks out. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” I exclaim truthfully, running a hand through my hair.

Is now a good time to mention the unexplainable pull that landed me here in the first place? Probably not.

Something shifted between us since dinner at the diner two weeks ago. I still yell at her for being too slow, and she runs through a list of sharp art tools I can shove up my ass. But there’s no real threat behind any of our comically insulting banter – just sexual tension. I think.

I stand behind the fact that I’m an average twenty-something guy with a healthy sexual appetite who wouldn’t say no to a night or two with Juni. Watching her run around in tiny shorts and sports bra during the summer, I’m not hard pressed to imagine what she would look like naked.

I just don’t know what she wants because I recognize all the tell-tale signs of someone flirting or wanting my attention. Not once have I seen her gaze drop to my lips. Or her swinging her midnight black hair over her slim shoulders. Or winking coyly in passing.

Burying her face in both hands, Juni groans loudly.

“Okay,” she breathes out, her hands scraping down her face. “We’re both adults, right? We can have a mature conversation, right?”

Not trusting my mind or mouth, I lift a shoulder.

“For fuck’s sake, Dash! Seriously?”

Watching her throw her hands in the air and rapidly mutter something under her breath fascinates me in the same way when I watch her run. The words I didn’t mean to blurt out earlier ring true: I want Juni. I know I want her writhing with pleasure under my touch. How else I want her remains undecided.

Right now, I’m aching to touch her, but I need to know what she wants.

“Juniper.” I call out her name in a serious tone to catch her attention.

The tirade to herself stops. Her head cants to one side. Her chest saws in and out from her undecipherable word vomit. Tiny fists planted on her hips.

“Dash,” she whispers, her dark eyes glued to mine.

That’s when I see desire crash through her. A tongue running across her upper lip. A faint breathy moan. The slight clench of her thighs.

We hold our gazes for a nanosecond longer before stepping forward and crashing into each other. We are a fucking hot mess, fighting for dominance. This isn’t a sexy coordinated dance of my erection pressing into her belly or her hands weaving through my hair.

My lips dip to her neck, but she tilts her head to the opposite side and my tongue laps at her cheek. Her hands slide up my chest but then collide with mine wanting to cup her face so I can kiss the ever-living shit out of her.

We’re two flames wrecking into each other, just wanting to burn bigger and brighter.

I couldn’t imagine this moment being anything other than crazy, raw, and passionate.

Through the sloppy kisses and the groping hands, I back her into the table covered with notepads and loose sketches and set her on the edge. Keeping her eyes on me, her hands push off most of the mess from the surface.

I reach behind me and yank on the collar of my t-shirt, pulling it off in one fluid motion. Her tortured groan grabs my attention.

“What?” I tilt my head with curiosity.

“That is so fucking sexy,” Juni whimpers, her teeth digging into her lower lip. “The whole take your shirt off with one hand from the back.”

“Really?”

She nods eagerly as one of her hands trails between her legs.

“Even sexier than all this?” I tease, sweeping a hand over my naked torso before swatting her fingers away.

“Mmmmm.” She scowls at my palm guarding her pussy. “You without a shirt is nothing new, Dash. But you just magnified your sexiness by a hundred with that move.”

Interesting.

“Hands up,” I order, stepping between her legs, as my fingers find the bottom hem of her shirt.

She complies, and I quickly pull it over her head and toss it over my shoulder.

A tortuous groan rumbles from my throat when I slip her gray sports bra over head, revealing her beautiful tits. My dick hardens impossibly more at the contrast in her skin between the sun kissed and the pale outline of the sports bras. I’m the lucky bastard with the chance to see what she hides from the rest of the world.

“Fuck, Juniper,” I rumble lowly, slowly running a finger over a taut nipple.

“Dash,” she whines breathlessly, her head falling back, as I repeat the motion to the other tit begging for attention.

Even though my finger wants to stay longer to play, the rest of my hand slowly drags lower to the waistband of her black leggings. As soon as the pants and a pair of white lacy underwear hit the floor, I step back to stare at the gorgeous masterpiece of a naked Juniper Mitchell.

My mind desperately wants to remember every detail in case this is the only chance I have with her.

Her palms lay flat on the table behind her, and her short legs dangle off the edge of the table. Her fiery gaze and coy smirk invite me closer. Her perky tits bounce with each breath she takes. A small glimpse of her pussy makes my mind spin with all the ways to tease, tantalize, and please.

I edge closer, flattening my hand against the smooth expanse above her chest, and gently push her onto her back. A tortured cry slips between her lips when a finger “accidentally” brushes against a rock-hard nipple. My chest and cock swell with pride, knowing I’m the one driving her wild with need.

The little brat props herself up on her elbows with a self-satisfying smile, watching my hands spread her thighs wider.

I inhale sharply and deeply at the better view of her sweet pussy and the intoxicating scent of her arousal.

I know I should punish her with long, lingering strokes of my tongue. Torment her until she’s begging me to fuck her hard. But at this point, I would only be torturing both of us.

Because I need to taste her. I need my hands on her. I just need her.

Slipping my hands under her thighs to cup her ass, I lean forward, bury my face into her sweet core, and breathe her in.

Holy fucking shit.

Trapped between her legs would be the best way to die.

“Dash,” Juni cries the instant my tongue laps vigorously at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Her fingers rake through my hair, alternating between holding me closer or attempting to push me away. My tight grip on her ass keeps her from squirming away.

I desperately want to whip out my cock and jerk off at the same time she comes, but my hands rebel at the notion of leaving the warmth and curves of her body.

Instead, my fingers dig deeper into her dewy skin as she rides my face until I recognize the tell-tale signs of her imploding pleasure.

Even after screaming my name and cursing like a sailor when she arches her back for a second or two, I continue to feast on her heat. She might think she’s done, but I’m not. Not even close.

“Dash,” she whimpers, probably feeling the exhilaration build again.

I smirk against her wet pussy before shoving two fingers inside.

“Fuck me,” Juni wails, bowing her back again to ride my fingers.

“I will, baby, I will,” I murmur before lapping my tongue against her clit.

Listening to her shriek my name again and feeling her nails rake over my scalp only intensifies my need for her. She’s a sight, laying on her back and attempting to regain her breath, as I fish a condom from my wallet and pull off my jeans and black boxer briefs.

As soon as my achingly stiff dick is protected, I plant my hands around her waist and yank her off the table. Before she has a chance to respond, I spin her around and bend her over the surface.

I should take my time and ease into her, but I can’t. My desire to feel her is too strong. The moment I slam into her warmth, my eyes flutter shut and a deep groan escapes from my throat.

“Fuck, Dash,” she groans passionately, bracing herself on her forearms, pushes her ass back to match my brutal thrusts. “You feel so fucking good.”

I’m too caught up with how fucking fantastic her body feels with mine to respond properly. An animalistic caveman grunt is all I can handle. My hands grip her hips tighter as I piston into her harder. Faster. Deeper.

Everything about this moment shoves me to the edge. The way she moans my name. The slick warmth of her body. The sound of our skin slapping together.

Seconds before euphoria blinds me, I pull out, rip the condom off, and yank on my cock once before spraying my release onto her back and curvy ass.

“Shit, Juniper,” I cry out, shutting my eyes, and succumb to the beautiful ecstasy washing over me.

With one final whimper, I collapse against her back, not giving a damn about smearing the product of my climax over me.

My lips press against her shoulder blade before I reluctantly peel myself off her spent body. I disappear into the small bathroom to wipe myself clean before grabbing a blue towel hanging from a hook and running warm water over a matching washcloth.

I can’t help but feather light kisses over her skin as I gently run the damp cloth over the mess I made. Juni whines dramatically when I carefully pry her off the table, wrap the towel around her, and gingerly push her toward the bathroom.

“You should probably go pee,” I suggest, my lips brushing over her damp forehead.

“So bossy,” she mutters, clutching the towel to her chest before slowly shuffling away.

“Don’t blame me if you get a UTI,” I tease, gently swatting her ass.

I scrub a hand down my face as soon as the door closes.

Do I stay? Do I go? What exactly is the protocol here?

My last meaningless fling had been about a year ago during an off-period with Tara. After the requisite amount of cuddling to not look like a complete asshole, I had hightailed it out of there because I had no intention of staying the night.

But now? Do I want to spend the night? I glance around the area as if it holds the answer, but only spot a trail of discarded clothes and the used condom on the wood flooring.

I grin like an idiot even as I clean the spot and properly dispose of the protection. A quick spot check is totally worth marking her.

The bathroom door creaks open, and I turn to watch Juni lumber out with the towel neatly wrapped around her. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction as I take her hand and lead her to the unmade bed. I chuckle when she face plants onto the mattress and struggles to roll onto her back, attempting to keep the covering in place.

I guess I should leave. A pang of disappointment creeps through me as I pick up my pants near the table.

I shake out my jeans when she calls out my name.

“Yeah?” I look over my shoulder to see her leaning back on her elbows.

The towel no longer covers her delicious body. Lust dances in her warm, dark eyes. Her legs spread open, gifting me another peek at her beautiful pussy.

My gaze greedily travels north to find her crooking her index finger at me. “More.”

The corner of my lips pull into a satisfied smile as my fingers drop my jeans onto the floor.

I don’t even question how or why I’m happy to return to her.