Page 44 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

Rose

I’ve fallen for him.

I know I have. Or I’m sure I have. I don’t know how else to explain this gut-wrenching feeling of leaving him in ten days. Or the warmth that spreads through every inch of me when he looks at me, holds me, kisses me.

Everything in my mind tells me this is a fling. A wild summer fling, and I’d be a fool to think it’s more.

But my heart is telling me to believe it.

I once heard somewhere that if it’s not reciprocated, it’s not love. It’s lust.

And the possibility of that makes my heart shatter. If I’m as brave as I claim to be, I could ask him how he feels. I could tell him how I feel.

But before I do, I need to know.

Rose: What’s love like?

Willow: Uh-oh.

Rose: That bad?

Willow: It’s probably just the flu. When you coming home?

Rose: I don’t want to.

Willow: Still doesn’t mean you’re in love.

Rose: I painted us last week.

I attach a picture of my painting and send it to her.

Willow: Cute. Listen, I’m no expert, but I think you need more than great sex and the urge to paint the man.

Rose: He makes me feel like I’m worth something.

Willow: Rose?

Rose: I know .?.?. I should know what I’m worth with or without him.

Willow: I was going to say .?.?. let me know when he makes you feel like you’re worth everything .

I think I know when it happened. That long weekend. No—the night he chose to stay another night. When he watched me paint. When he encouraged me to have a glass of wine so I could feel normal again. Enjoy the things I used to without feeling threatened by it.

I’m not silly enough to think he’d feel the same. He’s got a ranch to run. A heart to shield. A friendship to protect.

My heart sinks.

Because Willow has a point.

Wilder makes me feel like I mean something. Not everything.

And everything .?.?. would be a game-changer.

“I need more time with you.” Wilder’s husky voice is in my ear. We’re still under the covers. Still naked.

I groan, turning in to him, trying not to look too excited about what he might be asking.

“An entire day, naked in bed, more?” I tease.

He shakes his head. “More.”

I stroke the hair on his chest.

It’s Saturday afternoon. This will be my sixth and last week here. And so far, he hasn’t asked me to extend my stay.

Or anything more, for that matter.

I think he attempted to last Sunday when he came over after working on the field all day. He said he had something important to ask. He wasn’t expecting to find Dallas here with Ellie watching a Disney movie.

And it’s not like we’ve had much of a chance to talk all week. It’s been crazy at the ranch with schedule changes, gossip, and events to try to keep on task.

When he came over last night, he proposed another long weekend. Just him and me .?.?. uninterrupted. Ellie’s with her grandparents, so Dallas is seeing to the ranch.

“A week more?” I don’t add that it’s when I’d be boarding my return flight.

“Not enough.”

I stroke down to that sexy, defined V below his belly. “Through the end of summer?”

“It’s a start,” he says, eyes closing in on my mouth.

Hope dies a little bit inside me. It’s all right though. That flame wasn’t all that bright to begin with.

“You think two extra weeks to finish off the summer will be enough, cowboy?”

“No. I said it’s a start.”

But he’s also not asking. Not yet at least.

It’s like when Willow’s ex said, I want to spend the rest of my life with you . But never proposed. Just left her to hope and wait and expect.

Like he was waiting to see if something better comes along.

She finally left him and told me five words that have never resonated so much as they do now. I want to be enough.

But is enough enough ? Is it selfish to want to be some- one’s everything?

Of course it is. Who am I to demand something like that?

“You have any idea what you do to me?” he continues. His head clearly on something more .?.?. right now.

“Drive you wild?”

He moves that solid, mountain man of a body over me. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Scooping my neck up, he kisses me like a starved man.

He rips the sheet down, exposing us both and twists to sit up against the headboard. “Sit on my lap. With your back to me.”

The request throws me off for a second. My lips part, but I don’t hesitate for long and shift, settling my knees on either side of his thighs. My back to him.

He strokes my sides gently. “So beautiful.” His hand drops between my spread thighs, and I know he finds me soaked. He coats my clit, gliding his thumb in tantalizing circles. His hard cock is in my hands. He reaches over with a condom. “Slide this on me.”

He groans from my touch as I roll it down. I’m hot and needy and ready for him. He sucks in a sharp breath like he can’t take it anymore and lifts me up, lowering me onto his cock. I guide him in slowly, but with an eagerness I’ve never possessed.

“Mine. This pussy, this perfect ass .?.?. is mine, Rose,” he growls as he sinks me over his length.

“Yes, yes.” My hands press against the mattress in front of me, using it as support as I ride him. The sensation from this erotic position. The declaration of ownership from his dirty mouth .?.?. it’s enough to have me coming apart.

“Wilder,” I cry as I ride him.

He threads his fingers into my hair. “Gorgeous. I love the way you move. The way you feel. You were made for me, Blue.”

The friction is too much. I’m going to come. “Oh God, Wilder.” It’s another whimper.

“That’s it, baby. Squeeze me just like that. That’s my girl. Ride it like it’s yours. Because I am. I’m all yours.”

I’m trembling, screaming as the build-up becomes impossible to hold back.

“Now come. Come with me.” He covers my breasts with his big hands as he thrusts, whispering in my ear, “Stay with me.” Then a guttural groan rips from his throat that electrifies me.

My orgasm follows, and I scream, squeezing around him as his pumps become rough and ragged.

We’re both breathing hard when he slides out of me and I fall back against his chest.

A moment later, he gives me a sexy, lazy grin as he flips me to face him. “I’m fucking crazy about you, you know that?”

Hours later, we’ve showered, had lunch and yet somehow neither one of us have real clothes on. I’m still in my little black nightie and cotton bathrobe, and he’s in his boxers.

I’m wrapped in his arms, knowing without a doubt in my mind, I’ve fallen in love with Wilder Thorne.

“You heard what I said earlier?”

I stroke the scruff around his jaw. “That you’re crazy about me?”

He lifts my chin. “You own me. Every inch, inside and out.”

“Why do you sound sad about it?” I ask, reading too much into the undertone.

“Because it’s not easy being owned. Complicates things.”

I kiss his jaw. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe, but I’ve been burned before, Blue. By someone who I thought lived and breathed the same things I did.”

“There’s no one else,” I assure him.

He brushes his thumb against my bottom lip. “I know. I know it’s not the first time I’ve asked and I’m sorry for that.”

I stop him there. “Wilder. Don’t be sorry. It’s completely justifiable.” I touch his cheek. “And I’m not ready to leave you either.”

“Then don’t. Stay , Blue.”

“Rose!” A sharp roar cuts through the air, followed by heavy pounding.

What on earth?

Wilder hardens beneath me. His eyes are fiery as he recognizes my brother’s voice.

Another bang. “Open this door right now.”

“That fucking does it. Stay here,” he commands.

“No. No,” I plead desperately. “I’ve got this. Please. It’s probably just—oh hell, I don’t know what it is this time. Just please wait here and be quiet.”

He paces my bedroom. “I don’t like it, Rose. He’s got no right banging down your door like that.”

“Please stay here,” I beg quietly.

He glares at me like he’s seconds away from losing it.

Then nods.

I race out in my robe and unlock those damn locks, which are beginning to feel ridiculous. I’m fine. I don’t need these. Why did I ever think I did?

Except maybe to keep my stupid brother out.

I pull the door open. “Christ, Rose. Hell is with these locks,” Wes growls, stalking in like he lives here.

He’s carrying a stack of mail—some opened, not surprising. Wesley likes to ensure I’m on top of my bills and pays anything outstanding. Which I’m both grateful and offended for. But I choose my battles.

“It’s three in the afternoon. Why aren’t you dressed?”

“Because it’s Saturday. I’m off. Why are you storming in here? What’s going on?”

He crosses my living room, pacing like a lunatic. “I fucking knew it.”

My heart starts to thud. Does he know about Wilder?

“I knew I couldn’t trust you in the city. You’ve completely lost your goddamn mind, sis. There’s low and then there’s this,” he shouts, and OK, now I’m a little nervous.

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you need money, is that what it was? Or was this just a regular Monday afternoon for you?”

I watch him, stunned at his behavior. Is he drunk? No. This isn’t Wesley drunk. This is Wesley losing his shit the same way he did when I told him I was dropping out of school to paint.

His eyes land on the two plates on the counter behind me. “Someone here?”

“No.” I move to block him from going down the hallway.

“Rose,” he warns, then grows pale as he stares over my shoulder.

My heart thuds against my chest dreadfully fast as I turn.

Wilder steps out into the living room in nothing but his jeans. And he doesn’t look any happier than my brother. “Think it’s about time you calmed down, Wes.”

“The fuck is this?” It’s barely an audible breath.

I swallow hard; my heart is pounding. I turn back to Wesley, and he meets my eyes. “Rose?”

“For fuck’s sake, what does it look like, Wes?” I shout.

He glares across the room, disregarding me. “It looks like you’re fucking my sister.”

Wilder keeps his tone even, taking slow steps. “Can we talk like adults? Calm down for a minute? Then we can explain.”

“We? You’re a we now? What the fuck? You don’t date, Wilder. You fuck around. You—” He pauses, his eyes wide. “Are you using my sister to ease all the stress you’re under?”