Page 5 of Pucking Wild

She shakes her head. “Nah, you cleaned up good. Not a drop in sight.”

I sigh with relief. That could have been a major mood kill.

“You wanted a kiss,” she says, stepping in until her bare tits brush against my chest.

I groan, fighting the urge to touch her. Instead, I grip tighter to my wrists. “Yes,” I say on a breath.

She brushes against me with her sun-warmed skin until I’m pressed up against the doorjamb. She lifts her hand, two fingers trailing up my sternum before she cups my cheek. “One kiss,” she whispers.

“Just one,” I repeat, bending down to breathe her in. She smells like suntan lotion and sea salt and some kind of coconutty shampoo.

We breathe against each other’s mouths, our lips parted. Her eyes are so beautiful. A thousand freckles dot her face. Some are hiding under the bright pink of her sunburn.

“One kiss, Ryan,” she murmurs. “For the rainy days to come.”

“One kiss,” I repeat. Making my move, I drop my face down to hers, my parted lips meeting hers. We both breathe in as we kiss.

This isn’t a peck or a chaste brushing of lips. No, it’s a searing. A supernova. Our mouths open, and then she’s moaning into me. It’s the sweetest sound of aching need. She wants me. Wants this. The realization has me ready to break our agreement. I want to haul her against me, sling her onto this counter, and bury myself inside her. I want to worship her, please her, make her scream my name as we come together.

She’s pressing into me, and I press right back. Both her hands cup my face, her full breasts bare and warm against me. Our mouths stay open as we tease and chase. She sucks on my bottom lip, biting with her teeth, and I taste her with my tongue.

It’s enough. It has to be. Because just as soon as the kiss started, she’s pulling away.

“Mmm.” She makes the noise low in her throat, eyes closed, lips wet with my kisses. It’s enough to have me getting hard in my swim trunks. If she looks down, she’ll see it. You can’t hide anything in these damn things.

Then she steps away, her hands leaving my face, taking all my air with her. Smiling up at me, she raises a hand to her mouth, two fingers brushing over her lips. “That was lovely, Ryan. You’re a good kisser.”

“So are you,” I say, surprised I remember how to form words.

“I have to go,” she says, her gaze darting to the clock above the stove. “And you have chips to deliver.” She points to the mess on the floor between us.

I nod, still feeling dumbfounded.

“Oh and—please don’t tell Rachel about this,” she says. “I’m not ashamed of you or anything,” she adds quickly. “You’re her friend, her patient. I wanna respect that.”

I nod again. “Yeah, cool. Anything.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Ryan.” She says it so casually, as if she didn’t just deliver a kiss that rocked me to my foundations.

“Yeah…nice.”

“Well…bye, Ryan,” she says, shifting another step further away.

“Bye, Tess.”

She turns, snatching up her phone from the end of the island. Then she’s walking away, wholly unashamed that she’s not wearing a stitch of clothing. Her sweet curves sway—her hips, those thighs. I watch, heart pounding, as she turns the corner and disappears.

Now I’m standing here, alone in Jake Compton’s kitchen, with one thought echoing in my mind: This is only the beginning. Because there is no way I’m letting her just walk away.

Tess Owens is my dream girl…she just doesn’t know it yet.

1

“Rachel!” I shout, taking another sip of my champagne. “Come on, girl. I’m growing a beard out here!”

“Hold your horses,” she shouts back. “The freaking zipper is stuck. I’m afraid I’m gonna break it—shit—”

“Well, get out here, and I’ll fix it for you,” I say, hopping to my feet.

---