Ride Wild

  “I’m worried about you, Cora,” he said, not meaning just the fever she’d come down with tonight. That was only his most immediate concern. “I think we have to take you to urgent care if you’re not better in the morning.”

  “Just need to sleep . . .”

  And then she was out. But Slider was wide awake, again, worrying about Cora Campbell. And wondering exactly what she’d been through before she’d arrived in Maryland. Whatever it was, Slider’s gut told him it wasn’t good.

  A suspicion that escalated the protectiveness he already felt toward her by a factor of about a thousand. At least.

  At some point, he finally dropped off to sleep, and eventually he found himself in the middle of the most fucking amazing dream. Cora, sliding into his bed in the middle of the night. Climbing on top of him, covering him with her feminine curves. Grinding against him and making him moan.

  Coming with his name on her lips.

  “Slider,” she moaned.

  His eyes blinked open, and he found his dream coming true. Except then his brain came back online enough for him to realize that he was a goddamn pervert and Cora was pressing up against him not in an effort to seduce him, but to try to get warm. She shivered against him. Her fever had spiked again.

  “Wake up, Cora,” he said, reaching for the medicine he’d left on the nightstand. “I need you to take some more of this to bring the fever down.”

  “Cold,” she whispered, bleary, green eyes blazing.

  “I know.” He dropped two pills onto her tongue. “Drink.”

  “Sorry I woke you. Didn’t realize . . .” She pushed herself away.

  Slider hauled her right back against him. “Whatever you need, sweetheart, okay? Just want you to feel better.”

  She was back to sleep in an instant. And, oddly, so was he.

  And that was the way they woke up. Right away, Slider knew something was off. The house felt oddly empty, but the light coming through his blinds made it feel late. He turned to the nightstand and found a note propped up against the lamp in his ten-year-old’s hand.

  You guys were out cold so I got us ready for school. No worries.

  —Sam

  Damn. Aw, damn. At some point, Sam, and maybe Ben too, had come in here . . . and found Slider and Cora totally entwined. As they still were.

  Cora lay with her head on Slider’s shoulder, her arm across his chest, her thigh across his. And his arm was around her shoulders, holding her to him, his face pressed to her forehead. Sure, the blankets had covered most of that, but no doubt his kids had seen enough to raise an eyebrow of curiosity.

  But at least Cora’s fever didn’t seem as bad this morning. No more than a hundred, if Slider had to guess. But he wasn’t waking her up to find out, and holding her like this wasn’t something he was going to be able to do again. So he let himself enjoy the feel of her while he could, relaxed against the pillow again, and drifted off with her in his arms.

  Cora didn’t want to wake up. She was warm and comfortable, and that seemed miraculous after being freezing and achy all night long. But finally, her eyelids blinked open against her will, and then she really didn’t want to move.

  Because she was lying on Slider, touching him from face to toes, in his bed. And he was holding her, too.

  In that moment, Cora wished more than anything that they were like this because they were together, rather than just because he’d taken pity on her for being sick. She’d always had some fondness for Slider, even in his most withdrawn version, but the past couple weeks, she’d felt like she was finally getting to know him. She’d seen more of his sweetness toward his sons. She’d witnessed his vulnerable side when Ben got hurt and when he’d admitted he needed her help. And she’d certainly found him to be thoughtful in preparing such a wonderful welcome for her coming to live at his house.

  He’d given her a few glimpses of his sense of humor—and proved he could sling some highly effective sarcasm. She still couldn’t decide whether to chuckle or groan at his calling her out for using humor as a defense mechanism. It had been as annoyingly observant as it had been accurate. And she kinda wanted to get T-shirts made that read Talkative Slider and Humor as a Diversionary Tactic Cora. Or maybe dolls. Perhaps she’d add to the line, Tall, Dark, and Scary Dare; Can Do Anything To and On a Bike Maverick; and Cute but Seriously Annoying Phoenix. She could make a million. Annnd this train of thought proved she still probably had a fever . . .

  Cora sighed. If all that wasn’t enough, that wasn’t even taking into consideration the way Slider had taken care of her last night. Or the way he was holding her now.

  And that was when she realized she liked Slider Evans. Liked liked him. And she had no idea what the hell she was going to do about that.

  “Hey, Cora,” he said, his gravelly morning voice so damn sexy.

  “Hey,” she said, tilting her head back to look him in the eye. She wondered if she should get off him, but didn’t really want to.

  Not making any move to get up, Slider just looked down at her. “How you feeling?”

  “A lot better,” she said, hyperaware that her hand was lying on his chest. His heartbeat faintly registered against her palm. “Still achy and a little off, but better.”

  “Good. You should probably take it easy today, though. Whatever that was isn’t likely out of your system yet.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  Talking like this, their faces so close, felt so damn intimate that Cora could almost imagine that nothing existed outside of Slider’s bed. She almost didn’t want it to. Especially when his arm squeezed a little tighter around her shoulders and brought them just a little closer. Cora shifted into his embrace, pressing her chest totally flush against his side, and sliding her thigh up until—

  Oh, hell. Until she felt the part of him she’d accidentally seen. And it was hard.

  He sucked in a breath, and his hand clamped around her thigh. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  She placed her fingers loosely over his mouth. She didn’t want him to apologize. Or explain it away. Or push her away.

  Cora knew she shouldn’t want the things she did, but that didn’t make her desires go away. It felt good to want Slider, it made her feel normal, even if she was a little nervous. After what her father had done, that seemed like a victory she didn’t want to relinquish.

  And, oh, now that she was touching his face, she really didn’t want to stop. His lips were full and soft under her fingers, his stubble was more ticklish than prickly, and his cheekbones were prominent under his skin.

  He licked his lips, and her gaze latched on to the movement.

  “Cora,” he rasped, his cock getting even harder against her thigh.

  His arousal fueled her own, her hips tilting with the need for friction. The movement had her grinding herself against the firm muscle of his thigh and made both of them suck in a breath. His grip tightened on her everywhere. His arm holding her tighter yet to him, his hand pulling her thigh wider across him.

  Her fingers returned to his mouth again, and traced across his lower lip. His tongue flicked out and swiped at her pointer finger, and Cora was instantly wet, her body slowly but surely forgetting her aches. Trembling with need and adrenaline and the fear that at any second, he would cut this off, Cora shifted ever so slowly, ever so slightly, bringing her face closer to his. He watched her like she was a tigress about to strike, but just as her mouth almost reached his, he flipped them and pinned her to the bed.

  And Cora realized she had it all wrong. He’d been the feral animal about to attack all along.

  “I wasn’t going to do this, Cora. I wasn’t going to start this between us. I know that’s not why you’re here,” he said, his voice full of grit.

  “I wasn’t going to start it, either,” she said, her heart pounding in her chest—from his closeness, from the way he was holding her, from what might be happening, and from the honesty she was about to let loose from her lips, “but I can’t help that I wa
nt it. Want you.”

  “Jesus.” He was almost shaking with restraint. “I’m worried about you not feeling good,” he said.

  “With you looking at me like that, I feel better than I’ve felt in a really long time.”

  “Cora—”

  “Slider, just this once,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, desperate for a connection, desperate for him.

  It was as if her words snapped something inside him, because suddenly he was kissing her like she was the water and he was a man who’d been lost in the desert. For a fragment of a second, she worried about her breath, but he didn’t give her time to think on it, because his hands clutched her hair, his tongue plundered her mouth, and his body settled atop hers with the most delicious weight and friction. Cora moaned and sucked hard on his tongue as she wrapped her legs around his lean hips and grasped at his shoulders, his back, his ass.

  “Christ, sweetheart,” he said, coming up for air, but not for long, because his mouth was at her jaw, her ear, her throat, and moving south. And, oh, God, that term of endearment had her holding him to her, holding him tight. Her shirt went, then his, and then he was at her hips with his mouth and his hands, his fingers playing with the band to his boxers that she’d slept in. “This can be enough. Just getting to kiss you is a fucking privilege.”

  But Cora wanted more, especially when he said things like that. Because it felt good to be able to choose this. Because she wanted this man. And because she feared once they got out of this bed, their senses might return, and she might not get another chance to have him. “I want you Slider. I want all of you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  The care he was taking to be certain she really wanted this made the decision easy. “Yes, Slider. So sure.”

  He removed the cotton shorts, a groan ripping out of him at remembering she wore no underwear beneath. Sitting back on his knees, he stared down at her like a starving man at a buffet deciding where to start first. He didn’t take long.

  Slider parted her thighs, pushed her up the bed, and settled himself in between. He peered up her body with those pale green eyes, like ice on fire, and watched her as he put his open mouth flush against her pussy. He licked and sucked mercilessly, until the room was filled with the wet sounds of his mouth and the gasping moans from hers.

  Only one other man had ever done this to Cora, and that might as well have never happened, because it so paled in comparison to what Slider was doing to her that she nearly lost her mind. She slapped her hands down against the bed and clawed at the sheets, trying to gain some purchase against the storm he was unleashing inside her body. Then Slider’s hands slid under her thighs and held her wrists down.

  A ribbon of fear curled through her belly, but his actions refused to let her concentrate on it. She wasn’t sure if it was the restraint or the possessiveness or the shift in angle, but she was immediately right at the edge, until she was thrusting into his mouth and rocking her head against the bed. Everything inside her strained and strained until finally she was coming, shattering, screaming into the stillness of Slider’s room, her whole body jerking in a series of spasms that just wouldn’t stop. And she never wanted them to.

  Slider reared back off the bed, grabbed a condom from a new box in the nightstand drawer, and shed his sweatpants. Another whole-body shudder wracked through Cora’s body. Because if she’d thought Slider was impressive when he wasn’t hard, he was freaking stunning when he was. She’d had sex with four guys in her life, so she was by no means an expert, but without question, Slider’s cock was the longest she’d ever seen. Eight inches, easy. Maybe more, because it appeared big enough that she bet she could easily wrap both hands around his length, one stacked atop the other.

  “You look at me like that and I don’t want to go slow,” he said, his voice low, his eyebrow arched.

  “Then don’t go slow,” she said, watching him roll on a condom.

  A niggle of unease rolled through her. Because this was really happening. She was really going to have sex with Slider. And the last time . . . wasn’t sex.

  But this also wasn’t the last time. Cora forced herself to latch on to everything that was different. The lights were on. It was morning, not night. She was on her back, not facedown. And most importantly, she’d chosen this man and this moment.

  “I want this,” she said for herself and for him. “Just like this.” Her thighs fell open.

  He braced himself above her, his eyes searching hers. And then he kissed her, took himself in hand, and found her center. His cock sank deep inch by sanity-stealing inch.

  “Fuck, Cora. You feel so damn good.”

  Her fingers clutched at his ass, but all she could do was moan in response. At the fullness, at the goodness, at the sensation of triumph she felt for being able to even do this.

  “Goddamnit,” he bit out as he buried himself deep. Gripping the edge of the bed with one hand, he curled his other into her hair as he began to move.

  And, holy wow, the way he moved. Fast and frantic, with his hips tipping forward on each downward thrust in the most infuriatingly delicious way. The movement ground against her clit every time, until she was meeting him stroke for stroke, fucking him even as he was fucking her.

  His forehead fell against hers, and his eyes absolutely blazed as he took her. And Cora didn’t want this to end. She never wanted it to end. That look. This feeling. This stolen moment.

  “Too good,” he rasped.

  She nodded. “So good you’re already making me want more, Slider.”

  “Yeah,” he said, hammering her harder. “Tell me.”

  A strangled cry spilled out of her, because he was moving faster now, harder, chasing the end. “I want to ride you. And I want you to pin me up against a wall. And I want—”

  “Christ, the mouth you have on you,” he said, claiming it in a rough, demanding kiss. Finally, he pulled away. “Know what I want?”

  “What?”

  “I want you to come again. I want to feel it while I’m buried in you. I want you to give me that, Cora.” He fell atop her, his arms clutching her tight, and fucked her in a series of fast, grinding strokes that hit her clit every time.

  She hadn’t thought she would get there again, but suddenly she was close, closer. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, curling her arms around his neck and holding on. She closed her eyes and arched her spine and used her feet on the backs of his thighs for leverage, and then she was coming and shaking and shouting, and so was Slider.

  “Cora,” he groaned, his hips slowing but still moving, his cock jerking inside her, his breath rasping in her ear. Still, he fucked her in long, lazy strokes as he lifted his head to look at her. Satisfaction made his eyes softer than she’d ever seen them before, but there was still interest there, too. “Jesus, Cora, I’m still hard.”

  A moment of uncertainty rolled through her. To cut this off with the incredible sex they’d already shared, or to push for more? More won out, because who knew if this was a line they’d ever cross again after today? “That’s because we’re not done.”

  “We’re not?” Slider asked, his head, heart, and cock at war.

  He knew what he wanted, because nothing had made him feel this good in a long, long time. But he posed it as a question anyway because he didn’t want to be taking advantage any more than he was. Things were way muddied now. What was right here? And if this was wrong, why did it feel so right? But while he was still inside her, only one part of him could emerge as the winner, even if it was probably the wrong damn part.

  “You wanna ride me, Cora? That what you want?” He imagined it, imagined what she’d look like taking him inside her body, holding him down, using him in a way that made them both feel so good. And, God, he wanted what he imagined, though he fucking shouldn’t. Not if he was smart.

  “Yes,” she said, biting her lip.

  Aw, that fucking lip bite. He felt it in his cock. And he surrendered to what he wanted—just one more memory with her, like this.
Because after today, memories were all he was going to let himself have.

  For both of their sakes.

  Withdrawing, Slider turned on his back and hauled her on top of him, and then he kissed her until neither of them could breathe but didn’t care. “Get another condom, and then I want you to show me just what you’ve been thinking about.”

  A series of fast movements had her quickly straddling him, centering herself over him, and sinking down tight. She braced herself against his chest and lifted and lowered herself, her gaze going to where they were connected.

  He couldn’t help but look too, because fuck, they looked so good together, with his cock disappearing inside her little body. “I find everything about you so damn beautiful,” he said, letting words fly that maybe he should’ve held back. Cora’s gaze snapped to his, the soft surprise on her face endearing and honest and vulnerable. Her guileless pleasure made him glad for giving voice to how he felt. His whole life had been about holding back for too long, and he just didn’t want to do it anymore. Not in that moment. Not while they were so bared to each other. Not while they were so deep into each other.

  And not when he hadn’t been with a woman who looked at him that way in so damn long. Maybe even his whole life.

  “Slider,” she moaned, “you’re so good.”

  The words hit him in ways that were both healing and uncomfortable as fuck, so he turned them, twisted them, made them about the sex. “Use me to feel good, Cora. That’s what I want.” He clutched at her hips, lifting her, moving her faster, grinding her down again. She leaned back and braced against his thighs, her hips shifting forward, her breasts and the soft waves of her hair swaying, her mouth dropping open. She rocked her hips forward and back, and Slider helped her move even as her strokes had him groaning and straining to go deeper.

  He palmed her lower belly and rubbed her clit with his thumb.

  Cora nearly screamed at the contact, and it only made Slider want to torment her more. She clutched at his wrist, not pulling him away, but holding his hand there, and then she rode him until she was coming again. Shaking and cursing. Her wetness spilling out over his groin, his balls.