Page 118 of Wild Love
“Rosie—”
“No. I’m not a memory. I’m not a goal. I’m not out of reach. I’m not the same girl who threw that diary out your car window. And I’m not going anywhere.” I point at the silver glinting between our feet. “That was usthen.” I tug at his belt.
First the buckle. Then the leather.
“This is us now,” I murmur as I work the button on his jeans. The zipper.
I don’t know who needs to hear it more. Him, the man who’s stuck in the past where I’m concerned. Or me, the girl who finally feels sure of herself and her choices—because they feelrightand not because they feel mandatory.
A girl who knows what she wants for herself.
His jeans fall to the floor, and I fall to my knees. Right at his feet. Right in the paint.
I lift my chin high to meet his bright green gaze. So wild. So unusual. I can’t help but marvel at the way he looks towering over me, all man, radiating so much tension.
“We’re messy. And we challenge each other. And let’s be honest, who the hell else in the world would ever tolerate us? Keep up with us?”
My fingers wrap under the wide elastic of his boxers, andI tug roughly. His cock springs free right before me. Big and perfect and hard.
I lick my lips.
“Rosie, what are you doing?”
His palm strokes the top of my head, and I grin up at him. “Playing in the paint.” My eyes drop to the head of his cock, mere inches from my lips.
“Yeah?”
Fuck. He’s so beautiful. I want to leave my mark all over him. I want him to playwithme.
“Yeah,” I murmur, my breath becoming choppy. I crouch slightly to plant my hands in the paint.
Then I reach up and grip his thighs hard.
Leaving my handprints all over him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
FORD
I watchRosie on her knees at my feet. Doing her best to piss me off. To make a mess and draw me into it with her. I like things orderly, but if I had to be messy with someone, it would be with her. All day long.
I smirk. She’s not wrong. Who else would put up with her dumping paint on their floor and stamping it all over them?
And what does it say about me that her constantly challenging behavior only makes me want her more?
“You’re out of control, you know that?” My hand slides down her cheek as her hands continue to make a mess on my legs. I press my thumb to her chin, popping those plush pink lips open. “You secretly get off on?—”
“Ford, stop trying to start a conversation with me and get your dick in my mouth.”
I let her finish her sentence. Of course it had to be something snarky and demanding.
And of course it works. It always works.
So, I give her what we both know she’s after and shove my cock into her mouth, watching her pretty, blue eyes go wide as her lips latch on. Her fingers curl, gripping at my quads as they flex beneath her palms.
“Is this what you were after?” I pull out and slide back in. Her tongue swirls around the head before sucking me back in.
She nods, and I let my hands rest on her head. My eyes close, even though I desperately don’t want to stop staring at her.
