Page 25 of Wild Claim

“I know.”

“But you’remyidiot.”

My chest tightened. “You’re too good for me.”

Her finger on my lips silenced me. “Too late. I’m not going anywhere because you’re the man I love.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do,” she insisted. “I love you. Turkey or man, grumpy or stubborn. All of you.”

I stared at her, searching for any hint of doubt or pity. There was none. Part of me wanted to protect her from the mess that was my life. But a stronger part, the part that ached for her touch, refused to let go.

Mine.

Fuck it. I’m done fighting this.

With a growl, I crushed my lips against hers. My hands gripped her face, angling her head so I could deepen the kiss. I couldn’t hold back anymore. All the pent-up desire and need I’d been too chickenshit to voice came pouring out in that moment. The kiss was messy, desperate. She moaned into my mouth, a sound that went straight to my cock. Fuck, I needed to hear that sound again. I nipped at her lower lip before trailing kisses down her jawline and neck. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against my chest as I sucked and bit at the sensitive flesh of her collarbone.

When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I rested my forehead against hers. “Last chance. Are you sure?”

Her lips curved into a smile. “I’ve been sure for a long time.”

That was all I needed. Because nothing mattered now except showing this woman exactly how much she meant to me, both inside and out. I kissed her neck, her collarbone, tasting the salt of her skin. Her lips found mine again, urgent and demanding. My hands slid over her body, exploring every curve. She arched into me, a soft moan escaping her lips.

I pulled her shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra with a practiced flick. She was fucking beautiful. Lowering my mouth to her nipple, I flicked it with my tongue. She gasped and arched into me, her hands digging into my hair. I sucked gently, then harder, switching to the other breast and giving it the same attention.

“Rory,” she moaned, and it nearly undid me.

I slid my hands down her sides, feeling every curve, every inch of her skin. My fingers found the waistband of her jeans, and I unbuttoned them with a swift tug.

“Wait!” She tried to cover herself up with her hands. “Don’t look. I’m not wearing anything pretty.”

I glimpsed plain blue cotton panties before her hands blocked my view. A sheepish look crossed her face.

“After everything tonight, you’re worried about your underwear?”

She swatted my arm. “Don’t laugh, you jerk.”

My eyes raked over her body. I leaned in close, my breath hot on her ear. “You could wear a paper bag and you’d still be fucking sexy to me.”

“Smooth talker.”

With a growl low in my throat, I lifted her in my arms, her legs wrapping around me. She kicked off her shoes as I carried her to the back bedroom. The sheets were a mess, tangled like my thoughts, but I didn’t give a damn. All that mattered was Mina in my arms, her breath hot on my neck. I laid her on the bed, drinking in the sight of her.

My cock strained with a need so intense it was almost painful. I wanted to mark her, to possess her completely, every inch of her becoming mine. I trailed a path from her stomach up to her heaving chest, teasing her erect nipples with my teeth. Unable to hold back, I crushed my mouth against hers. “I’m done being a useless fuck,” I growled against her lips, my cock grinded against her as she whimpered beneath me. “You deserve better than that. I’m going to make it up to you, sweetheart.”

“You don’t need to. I’m not some damsel in distress.”

“Never said you were. But I’d be a shit boyfriend if I didn’t have your back.”

She smiled. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“Hell, I figure if you’re crazy enough to chase a turkey through coyote-infested woods, we’re probably past the ‘just friends’ stage.”

“Fair point, but I’m serious. You don’t need to protect me,” she said, pressing her body against mine. “I’m not some fragile little thing.”

“I know you’re not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take care of you.”

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