Page 50 of Chasing the Wild
As of this moment, I know the way Layla tastes and the tiny noises of pleasure she makes as I fuck her mouth with my tongue.
What I want is to learn every single sound she makes when she’s falling apart beneath me, and my cock is buried inside that sweet little cunt of hers.
Jesus. Fuck. Her scent is still on my fingers, and she’s consumed every single thought I’ve had since last night.
Everything moved so fast.
How the hell can I justify my actions? One minute I’m arguing with her about whether or not she’s still involved with my son, and the next minute I’m trying to rip her jeans off and eat her pussy till she screams.
What kind of a fucking father am I, if I can’t keep my hands off what doesn’t belong to me? Off my son’s girl?
Layla is the most stunning woman I’ve ever come across. Our connection goes beyond just being drawn to her magnetic pull on my body. Spending time enjoying her company is just sodamn easy… and that might be the most terrifying part to all of this.
She’s also the only person I’ve ever felt such an intense attraction to. I’m insane for this girl. My dick is permanently hard whenever she’s around, and it’s becoming impossible to find reasons to remove myself from her presence twenty-four hours a day.
Especially when we’re in the depths of the longest, coldest nights of winter. When I’m battling myself at every turn because all the ways I want Layla is utter madness.
When all I really want to do is let myself into her room and give her the kind of goodnight kiss that lasts ‘til sunrise.
I brace myself on my knuckles. Staring at my craggy features in the bathroom mirror.
What the fuck does a pretty young thing like her see in a grumpy old asshole like me, anyway? I’ve got grays in my beard, and silver starting to streak a little on one temple. My hands are rough from working this goddamn ranch for thirty years, and my soul is in even worse shape.
She could have anything… and anyone in life.
Yet, the way she melted into me and wanted me last night was the most exquisite torture.
“You’re a real piece of shit, Wilder.” Glaring at my reflection, I wish I could punch myself in the jaw for being so reckless.
When I got home and saw the single line Kayce had emailed me, I just about got in the truck and took off back down to town, with my only plan being to kick his ass. Not because I care about the fact he’s not working or spends his time drinking or whatever the fuck it is he’s doing to waste his life. No, the reason I lost my shit was becauseI knew.
I knew if he didn’t return, if he wasn’t here, keeping my hands off Layla would be impossible. If I’m stuck up here buriedin the snow with only her to tempt me every day, that’s going to be an enormous fucking problem.
At least if Kayce was around, I thought it would be ok. That I could make it through the next six weeks without my cock trying to get inside her at every opportunity.
Christ, I’m so fucked.
Before, it was just this unspoken thing between us, where we’d both fallen into a pattern, pretending we didn’t feel the attraction that day we met at the gas station.
I shoved that interaction in a box and tried to throw away the key the second I found out who she was and that she just so cruelly happened to be Kayce’s ex.
There wasn’t any other option. Because a father trying to make amends is not trying very fucking hard if he’s got his tongue down the throat of his son’s girlfriend. Even if she considers things long over between them, it’s obvious Kayce is still hung up on her.
Yet, here I am, spending most of my day imagining what her cunt tastes like.
I stab my fingers into my hair and look down. My cock is tenting my briefs just at the thought of Layla, as per goddamn usual. If I don’t take care of this, it is only going to make for an extremely awkward day ahead.
Not to mention we’ve got the bonfire tonight, which means that between the annual winter round up of the cattle happening today, the BBQ I’m set to host later on, the ranch is going to be swarming with pricks sniffing around the property all day and night.
My teeth grind, as I shove off the sink. Flipping the shower on and stepping out of my briefs. There’s already a dark patch on the navy-blue cotton where my dick has been leaking.
I step under the spray and rest a forearm up against the tiled wall. My other hand pumps some body wash from the bottle on the recessed shelf and I wrap my fist around my rigid length.
My eyes squeeze shut as I stroke myself from root to tip. It’s a well-trodden path I’m on, one that is coated in the dark shame that comes with knowing I’m fantasizing about a girl far too young for me.
The whole time my fist slides up and down my cock, all I see is Layla on her knees between my thighs.
She’s looking up at me with those big doe eyes of hers glowing with the shades of green the forest turns in spring.
