Page 9 of Sweet Escape
Fuckin’
?Worst Way - Riley Green
Wilder
I listenfor the sound of running water, then tuck the small slip of paper away in my wallet as I tamp down on the urge to barge into the bathroom and join her. Olivia is a breath of fresh air, all soft curves and sunshine—everything I’m not. I should keep my distance.
I rifle through my bag, searching for my toothbrush and a shirt to wear to bed, sensing that my usual state of undress might be somewhat inappropriate for our situation. The shower turns off, and I can’t help but picture her wet and naked, wearing nothing but a towel. As if in answer to my unspoken desire, the door creaks open and her head peeks out, giving me a glimpse of her damp hair and the droplets of water trailing down what little I can see of her body.
Fuck. Me.
It’s even better than I imagined. I should send her piece-of-shit ex a thank you basket for letting her slip through his fingers.
“Um. Wilder? I forgot to bring my clothes. Would you mind setting my bag outside the door?”
“Sure. No problem.” I place the suitcase exactly where she wants it, then step back into the bedroom to give her some privacy. The sound of a zipper opening reaches my ears first, followed swiftly by an enthusiastic curse. “Everything okay?”
“No. I must’ve grabbed the wrong suitcase. I’m so fucked.” I glance back as she holds up a pair of barely there lace panties, her face pulled into a frown. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. The universe obviously has it out for me.” She tosses the underwear back where it belongs and kicks the suitcase away from the door.
“Do you have a change of clothes in your carry-on?”
She shakes her head.
“Here.” I toss her the plain white t-shirt I pulled out of my bag, tearing my eyes away from the tempting swells of her breasts. “You can borrow this.”
She catches it with one hand as the other holds her towel in place. Fuck, I wish she’d let it drop.
Olivia quietly closes the bathroom door, and I busy myself getting ready for bed, flipping off the overhead lights so the space is lit by only a single lamp above the nightstand.
Liv returns a short while later with her hair dried and her face bare. My shirt does nothing to hide her body, barely covering her ass, and her thick thighs are on full display as she pads across the carpet. The sight of Olivia in my shirt feels like a privilege I haven’t earned, but I’m going to take it all in anyway.
As she steps around the corner, she trips on the stranger’s suitcase, and the stack of clothes she’d been carrying tumbles to the floor. My gaze lands on a pair of black lace panties, then moves to Liv as she bends to pick them up, giving me a peek atwhat lies beneath my shirt. Something inside me snaps, like a rubber band being pulled taut.
I step into her space and cage her against the wall, placing one hand on either side of her head, cursing myself for the lapse in self-control. I tug the balled-up panties from her fist and shove them into the back pocket of my jeans.
She’s not wearing a bra, and her ample chest brushes against mine with each ragged inhale. Our synchronized breaths are the only sound in the quiet of the darkened hotel room.
I scan her face, hungrily taking in the deep blush flooding her cheeks and accentuating the freckles dotting across her nose. There’s a beauty mark on her right cheekbone I hadn't noticed earlier. It’s such a small detail, but I catalogue it anyway.
Every version of this woman is stunning, but the one I’m seeing now, stripped down like a goddamn gift, is absolutely breathtaking. She makes me want to be reckless.
It’s been years since I’ve kissed a woman, and I had no desire or inclination to do so until I met Liv. I haven’t been able tothinkof anything else since she sat down on the plane.
I can’t decide if I want to consume her or be consumedbyher.
How has it only been hours, and I’m already about to fall to my knees just for a taste?
“Wilder…” The way she says my name has my pulse skyrocketing. Her eyes dip to my lips, and she leans forward, hesitating briefly before pulling back again.
Is she as terrified as I am?
“Kiss me.”
“We shouldn’t,” I murmur, my hot breath fanning across her sweet lips.
She looks up at me through thick lashes, wanting, pleading with me to take her. My hand tangles in her hair, tugging onthe roots to angle her head exactly where I want her. A breath escapes her parted lips, but I don’t close the distance. Not yet.
My conscience tells me to walk away, but every fiber of my being is begging me to take her. This isn’t rational, or sensible—so why does it feel so goddamn right?
