Page 22 of Wild Hearts

He checks a couple of things before lifting his head. "Your spark plug wiggled loose. It should be fine now. Try it out."

The car starts without a hitch, and Wes slams the hood shut. After turning the car off, I hop out with a relieved smile. "Thanks a lot. I'm glad it was an easy fix."

“Me, too,” Elsie adds before letting Shadow out of the backseat. “This guy has been prancing around like crazy. I think he needs to potty.” She shoots me a mischievous grin, her eyes darting between me and Wes, as she steals my dog as a cover to leave us alone.

I don't know what she expects to happen. We’re in a freaking parking lot in broad daylight.

"How much do I owe you?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“What? I can’t let you work for free. It’s not right.”

"Tough shit. I'm not accepting a dime,” he growls before tossing the rag he used to clean his hands in the cab of the truck. It doesn't look like it accomplished much, but whatever. That’s the least of my concerns at the moment.

"Why?" Genuine confusion wrinkles my brow. This is his job, his business. Even though we’re friends—maybe, potentially, more than friends—he deserves to be compensated for his time.

He hesitates then backs me into the side of his truck, so we’re hidden from Elsie and the street of passing cars.

"Because you don't owe me a fucking thing. You need my help? Take it; it's free. I don't want your money." His hulking body radiates heat as his arms cage me against the warm metal of the truck. My muscles threaten to melt from the blazing inferno surrounding me—the truck, his dominant stance, the unrelenting desire in his brown eyes.

"But..."

Wes shakes his head, and his hand lightly circles my throat. "You don't get it, do you, baby? Well, let me make it crystal fucking clear."

His thumb tugs my mouth open as his lips descend on mine. His tongue sweeps inside like an invading Viking, pillaging and claiming what he wants.

Whenever we’re together, the restraints around Wes seem to loosen more and more to reveal a possessive man intent on staking a claim on me. It’s a heady realization as his rough beard rakes across my skin with each tilt of his head to get a deeper angle.

His calloused fingertips caress my cheek while his hips dig into mine, pinning me to the truck with the hard dick nestling between my thighs.

A low moan vibrates between us, and I can barely breathe—not because his hold on me is too tight but because of how damn erotic this is.

I’m not the girl men like Wes, tatted and dangerous, obsess over.

I’m not the woman a man like him craves.

Time loses all meaning as we stand there, kissing and groaning and touching and finally releasing the tension left over from yesterday.

Until he retreats, nipping my bottom lip one last time. "This is what I want from you. Your time, your mouth, everything. Give it to me, Gracie." The demand sends a shiver down my spine and hot arousal soaks my panties.

I struggle to fathom how I affect him so intensely, but I do. The hard bulge of his cock, his heavy breathing and hooded eyes, are proof of his desire.

I lick my lips, searching for a response, when something on my cheek catches his eye, and his entire body freezes. Jerking away, Wes mutters a line about getting back to work, then drives off, leaving me stunned.

"What happened?" Elsie asks, leading Shadow to my frozen position on the blacktop.

"I have no clue."

Maybe his feelings aren’t so clear, after all…

CHAPTER TEN

WES

Once I’m back at Dusty’s, I throw myself into fixing up the vehicle I’d been working on before abandoning it like my heels were on fire, itching to ‘rescue’ Grace.

Because I’d been excited to see her again. Too excited.

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