Page 61 of Pucking Wild

“Fuck,” I whimper, hardly making a sound.

I shift my knees a little farther apart and glide the bullet back and forth over my clit, teasing the entrance of my pussy to get it wet. I groan as I feel the toy get slick around my fingers. Getting wet has never been my problem. I can do panty-dripping arousal all day long. It’s gettingoffthat takes work.

“Come on,” I moan, pressing in a little harder with the bullet, circling my clit clockwise, then counterclockwise. The vibration feels amazing, setting off a fire that warms as it spreads, racing down my legs, leaving my toes tingling. My breath catches, and I know I’m close. The heat blooms across my chest, curling and fluttering.

“Yes—fuck—please, God,” I whine. My breasts sway as I work the toy, biting my bottom lip. “Yes—fuck me,” comes my all-but-soundless plea to the heavens.

For the love of God, will someone please just fuck me?

Lost to my own pleasure, I don’t hear the knock at the door. I definitely don’t hear it open. But I do hear a man’s voice.

“Tess?”

24

Igasp, bolting upright on the bed to see a wide-eyed Ryan standing in my open doorway, leaning on one crutch.

“Jesus—fuck—” I cry, slipping off the side of my bed, vibrator still buzzing in my hand. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh my god.” Yep, he’s just realized what I was doing. The poor boy blushes red as a tomato as he backs into the doorknob with his hip and hisses. “Fuck—Tess, I’m sorry—”

Indignation surges through me. “What, it’s not enough that you barge into houses unannounced to catch women naked, now you’re just walking right into their bedrooms?”

“I didn’t know you were home,” he counters, looking anywhere but at my naked, flushed body.Again. “Why didn’t you announce yourself when you got in?”

“I thought you were asleep,” I cry, clicking off the bullet and tossing it on the bed.

Big mistake. That draws his eye down and now he’s looking at my open treasure trove. The puppy’s eyes go, if possible, even wider as he feasts upon my colorful sex toy collection.

“Oh…fuck.”

I flip the bag shut. “Eyes up here, Ryan,” I say, pointing to my face.

He groans, his gaze going from my face to the abstract painting on the wall. “Tess, could you—”

“Nuh-uh,” I cry, hands on my naked hips. “No way. If you’re about to ask me to cover up in my own damn bedroom, I’m gonna have to insist that you go fuck yourself with your hockey stick. Just because you think I’m not home, you think it’s okay to waltz in here? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing—”

“Then why barge in—”

“I heard a noise! And then I saw a strange car in the driveway. You weren’t answering your phone, so I didn’t know what the fuck to think. I thought maybe someone broke in.”

“That’s my car,” I explain. “It’s a rental. And I don’t have my phone anymore. I threw it in the ocean today.”

“You—what?” That gets his eyes back on me. “You threw your phone in the ocean?”

“Well, it was whatever that stretch of water is just before you hit the beach,” I reply.

“The Intracoastal?”

“Yeah. I threw my phone out the window of Ilmari’s truck.”

Ryan holds my gaze. “Why?”

“Because it wouldn’t stop ringing.”

There’s so much left unsaid in that statement. I’m almost convinced he means to ask me about it. He’s going to push me. He’s finally going to ask about Troy. It looks like the words are right on the tip of his tongue. But then his gaze softens.

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