Page 11 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

Like the day in the clinic, her sass lights me up.

But unlike that day, this time we’re not surrounded by her co-workers.

Before she can protest further, I clasp the back of her head and slam my mouth to hers. She tenses, gripping my arms before her lips part and my tongue slips through, curling around hers.

I claim her mouth greedily,

Her defenses drop and she tips up into the kiss.

The slight taste of chocolate mixes with all that is just her. I slant her neck, delving deeper, wanting so much more.

Her hands clutch my shirt, this time her nails scaling through the fabric eagerly.

My dick pulses, pressing to her.

I want this woman laid out below me, naked and squirming. Tasting her, feeling her take me, hearing my name on her lips as she comes apart over and over.

I growl down her throat, rolling my tongue through her mouth once more.

Her whimper almost puts me over the top, testing my control. The little sense I have is screaming at me to shut this down.

I slow, brushing my lips along hers, feeling the warmth of her soft pants. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and bright. A second later, they cloud and she tries to pull away. “Talon?—”

“Shut it, Willow. My good day just turned fucking great. You try and spew something to fuck it up or sling more sass, I can’t be responsible for what happens.

Knowing how you taste, the feel of your tight body pressed to mine, watching you sleep curled into my side like you belong there—I like it a hell of a lot. ”

Her eyes widen, flaming desire and hunger shining back.

My dick aches, screaming for relief.

“Fuck, we need to get out of this house.” I twirl her toward the hallway and gently push her forward. “Get your shoes.”

When she’s safely out of range, I call, “Babe, you have a shirt you can put on?”

“Why?”

“You’re with me, the less clothes the better. We leave the house, I prefer you covered.”

Defiance sparks in her expression. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. That top is sexy as fuck, it’s also barely covering you.”

“Did we time travel back to the 50s?”

I quirk an eyebrow. “You throwing sass?”

She narrows her eyes before clomping away. A few minutes later, she returns and I still, praying silently for patience. Her hair is back on top of her head, her lips coated with a shiny pink gloss, and her t-shirt tied at her waist, still exposing her waist.

“At least your tits are covered,” I mutter under my breath.

“I don’t do bossy. You are welcome to leave anytime.”

I step back into her space, cupping the back of her head. “Never understood where the guys were coming from. Thought they were idiots. Now I’m eating my words.”

“What does that even mean?”

“We have time, you’ll get used to it.”

“What does that mean?”

“You getting ready gave me a few minutes to think. I hear what you’re saying about me being your patient and I respect the position you’re in. You think it will mess up your reputation, I’ll back off.”

I can’t miss the flash of regret before her mask slips into place. “Thank you for seeing my position.”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks what?”

“Your recent assessment gave me two more weeks of therapy. Once I’m not your patient, your time is up.”

“You read my assessment?”

“It’s in my patient file online.”

“But no one actually reads those.”

“I do, especially when it means something to me.”

“You’re a very puzzling man.”

“I prefer intriguing, charming, irresistible, appealing—take your pick or take them all.”

“Adding humble to that list. You know, I had time to think those few minutes, too. Outside your annoying habit of being bossy, you have a penchant for gearing the conversation away from yourself. ”

“You saying you want to know more about me?”

“I may not want to date, but we can still be friends.” She makes her statement with a straight face, but the slight hitch in her voice gives her away.

“Friends?”

“Yes, friends.”

“You fall asleep cuddled to all your friends?”

“Well, no, but once Lucas and I shared a bed?—”

“Shut it, Willow.” Irritation stirs in my gut.

“It was platonic. And technically, I didn’t fall asleep cuddled to you. You moved me.”

“Do you kiss all your friends like that?”

“You kissed me, and it can’t happen again.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Grab the leash and let’s get the beast out before I change my mind. Two damn weeks is a long time.”

“Fine, but it’s your turn to talk and share.”

“I’m an open book, babe. Tell me what you want to know.”

“And we need to set boundaries. No more babe, baby, angel, firefly, or any other pet names. And no touching.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” She does a shit job hiding the disappointment in her tone.

“You want to know about me, here’s lesson one. This is new, and for some fucking reason you are denying what we have happening here. I gave you the two weeks. In that time, I have no problem telling you what you want to hear.”

“Does that mean you’ll agree but really you plan to disregard my wishes?”

“You’re hurling sass and I’m about ten seconds from tackling you to that sofa and showing you how much I like it.”

“Talon, you aren’t tackling me!”

The countdown starts… ten… nine…

“Eight.”

She narrows her eyes, the challenge shooting straight to my dick.

Seven… six…

“Five.”

Four… three…

She yanks the leash off the hook and sidesteps me, rushing out the door.

“Smart move, babe.”

She gripes as she stomps down the steps with Wolf on her tail.

Yeah, two weeks is a hell of a long time.