Wild Man Read online

  She reached out and took my hand. “I’m going to be okay,” she said. “Severe reactions can happen, but mine have never been that bad and I usually recover quickly. I just panicked because I didn’t have my medicine with me.”

  I nodded but didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I felt like I was having the damned reaction for her with the giant lump in my throat. I’d never been more terrified in my life, and I was still scared out of my mind.

  I stayed there with her, neither of us saying much for quite a while.

  Finally, after about thirty minutes, she said, “I’m feeling a lot better.” She rolled to her side and looked up at me, blinking rapidly. “I can’t believe I forgot my EpiPen. I never forget it. Ever.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were allergic to bees?” I said, tone harsher than I’d intended. But now my fear had eased a little, it was replaced by irrational anger that she’d kept it from me, and over what could have happened today. That was something I needed to know. I never would have taken her to that spot if I had.

  I never would have suggested her coming here in the first place.

  I never would have…

  The lump in my throat came back as the rest of that sentence formed in my head.

  Christ, I’d made a huge mistake.

  Freya

  By the next day, thankfully, I was back to my old self, but I was mortified that I’d been so careless. And Beau, he was acting strange, quiet, kind of distant. The easy smiles had stopped. He seemed tense, deep in thought, and I knew deep down that this didn’t mean good things for me.

  He thought he’d made a mistake, I was sure of it. It was written all over his stoic face. And I knew when I left in a day’s time I wouldn’t be coming back.

  I felt heartsick.

  Broken.

  Desperate.

  And it was my own stupid fault.

  I was in love with Beau Smith, completely and utterly, and I’d messed everything up from the very first conversation we’d had.

  I glanced out the large kitchen window. The sun was setting. It was getting late and Beau was still outside cleaning his guns on the porch. Taking a steadying breath, I grabbed him a drink from the fridge and headed outside.

  He glanced up when I walked out and thanked me when I handed him his beer, but didn’t say anything more. Leaning against the porch railing, I looked out across the land, heart firmly lodged in my throat. It was so incredibly beautiful. With time, I could have learned to love it there as much as Beau. I had no doubt about that. I already loved it. This place could have been home. When I was gone, I guess Beau would start looking for someone else, someone more suited to this place.

  I turned around. Beau was watching me. I forced a smile, but knew it didn’t reach my eyes. I couldn’t find the energy to pretend anymore that this wasn’t killing me, that I didn’t care as much as I did.

  “Tonight’s my last night,” I said, crossing my arms. My hands were shaking, and I didn’t want him to see it.

  This being my last night was not news to him, but for some reason his body stilled, got tight. Something moved behind his blue eyes, something I couldn’t name.

  He put the gun he was cleaning aside. “Yeah.”

  “This has been…” I cleared my throat, and ignored the way my eyes were stinging. “No matter what happens, I’m glad I came.”

  “Freya…” he growled.

  “Beau, I need to…there’s something I…”

  He stood suddenly, cutting me off when he stalked toward me. His hands came down on the railing either side of my waist, caging me in.

  He shook his head. “I was scared out of my mind yesterday, Freya,” he bit out. “I thought you were going to die. I thought you were going to close your eyes and you were never going to wake up.”

  The anguish I heard in his voice was real and raw. I loved and hated it all at once. “Beau—”

  “I don’t want to talk tonight, not tonight.” He lifted one of his hands to my face, fingers sliding around my jaw into my hair. “I plan on spending the night inside you, in my bed. I want to hear you screaming my name. I need it. That’s all I want right now. That’s all I’ve wanted all day.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “Will you give me that, Freya?”

  My mouth went dry, my heart pounding. I had to swallow several times, so I could talk as I curled my fingers around the side of his neck. “Yes,” I whispered. “I need you, too.” I took his hand and led him inside, through the living room, and upstairs to his bedroom.

  One of his hands slid around my belly from behind as soon as we walked into the room, the front of his long hard body colliding with my back.

  His mouth pressed against my ear. “This body”—he pulled me in tighter—“was made for me. You feel it, don’t you, Freya? You feel that heat between us. Christ, I think it could burn me alive if I let it.”

  If I let it.

  “I feel it,” I said. That heat, I’d let it consume me with open arms. I’d already been reduced to ash. And I’d never be the same again.

  His hands dropped to my waist, grabbed the bottom of my shirt, and pulled it up and off with one swift movement.

  “Need you naked,” he said, words vibrating through his chest.

  His hands came back around me, sliding up to my breasts, cupping, squeezing, teasing my nipples. My head dropped back against his chest, and his mouth went to my throat, kissing, licking, sucking, sending tingles across my entire body.

  I reached back between us and unhooked my bra. Beau gave me room, helping me to tug it off. As soon as it was gone, his hands came back to my breasts and he walked me toward the bed. I was panting by the time the front of my thighs hit the mattress. Beau kept me pinned between him and the bed as he freed my hair from the ponytail I had it in.

  “Love this hair. Love it wrapped around my fist, spread across my pillow, sliding over my stomach,” he said, voice pure grit.

  His hands went to my hips and he lifted me right off the floor and planted me on the mattress on my stomach.

  “Ass in the air,” he ordered.

  I shook, excitement making my limbs weak as I did as he asked, lifting to my hands and knees. His fingers curled around my hips and he yanked my pants and underwear down my quivering thighs, exposing me to him.

  He cursed soft and low as he helped me out of them. As soon as they were completely off, his hands went to my ass cheeks, massaging, fingers digging into my flesh. I felt his eyes on me the whole time. God, they burned into me.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gritted out, “Spread your thighs. Show me how wet you are, how much you want me inside you.”

  I wanted to squeeze my thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache, but I wanted him inside me so much more. My heart was pounding as I spread my thighs wider, knowing what he’d see. There could be no doubting how much I wanted him.

  The rough sound he made when he saw me sent tingles down my spine. One of his hands slid over my ass and down my thigh.

  My pussy clenched.

  He continued to move his hands over me for the longest time, as he looked over my naked body. I felt empty, the ache so deep and intense I couldn’t take it much longer. My hips rolled as a whimper crawled up my throat. “Please, Beau. Please, I need…I need you to touch me.”

  His hand came up between my legs so quick the sound of his palm slapping the wet, aching flesh between my thighs rang out in the room. I cried out, my arms collapsing. I moaned helplessly into the mattress, this close to coming.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Beau growled. “Look at you. Nothing more beautiful than seeing you like this.” He let out a rough breath. “Than knowing how much you want me.”

  My thigh muscles were shaking. God, my whole body was, the need I had for him was that strong. I had no idea what had come over Beau. He’d never been like this with me before. He was always pretty intense and vocal during sex, but this was a whole new level. I heard the rustle of fabric followed by the crackle of a condom w
rapper. I shivered in anticipation.

  A few seconds later, he was right there. The head of his cock pressed against my pussy.

  I fisted the sheets and pushed my ass back, trying to impale myself on him, unable to wait another moment. The head of his cock slipped inside me.

  He hissed. “Fuck.”

  I moaned, too far gone for actual words.

  “That’s it, hold on, Freya,” he gritted, then he slammed up inside me, filling me completely.

  I screamed, the pleasure, the relief, too much for me to hold in. And the sound that tore from him made it clear he was right there with me.

  He dragged his long, thick cock nearly all the way out then pushed back in. With each thrust he grew more intense until he was pounding into me over and over again. And the sounds he made every time his body slapped against mine only made it hotter.

  “So tight and hot and perfect, Freya.” He growled. “Made for me,” he said, repeating what he’d said outside.

  My head swam at those words, my body flushed and electrified, every nerve ending like a live wire ready to spark. His hands that had been moving between my breasts and my waist slid to my hips and stayed there, fingers gripping tight, and he jerked me down on his cock with his next thrust.

  It was too much and the orgasm I’d been trying to hold off exploded through me. I screamed into the covers, tearing at them, my entire body shaking out of control.

  Beau fucked me through it, and as soon as I started to go limp, I was lifted like a rag doll and dropped to my back. Beau came down on top of me, shoving my legs wide, and filled me again.

  I cried out, hanging onto him, needing him to ground me, close to flying all over again. His face hovered above mine, teeth clenched, face lined with tension. His eyes locked on mine, and God, I felt it, the intensity of it zapping through me. I couldn’t look away and I knew he felt the same way.

  He started moving again, fucking me hard and slow. It felt like we were almost locked in time, so deep inside each other I didn’t know where I finished, and Beau started.

  I love you.

  The words shot through my mind, and for a moment I thought I said them out loud. Beau’s eyes flared, gaze sharpening, and I swear he heard it, that he answered me with the same.

  Impossible. But God, I felt it.

  Beau’s gaze tore from mine, and he pulled from me suddenly, trying to roll me back to my stomach. And I knew, I knew exactly what he was doing. He was afraid of what he was feeling, of what it meant.

  I refused to let him pretend he wasn’t feeling what he was.

  This was our last night together, maybe forever, and if I didn’t take this risk, I might regret it for the rest of my life.

  So, I shook my head, refusing to turn, and instead pushed against his shoulder, silently asking him to roll to his back. His body was tense; he didn’t want to give in. I looked down at his achingly hard cock.

  Beau wanted back inside me, and I knew what I was about to do wasn’t playing fair, but I refused to lose this battle. I refused to let him hide from me.

  I wrapped my fingers around his insanely hard length and stroked lightly, too lightly, and said, “Please.”

  A muscle in his cheek jumped and the strain on his face deepened, but when I shoved his shoulder the second time, he dropped to his back. I climbed on top of him, straddling his big body.

  He was panting. “Freya…fuck.”

  I took his cock in my hand and didn’t mess around. I sank back down, taking all of him inside again.

  He groaned, body rolling in a way that caused every one of his muscles to dance. I’d never seen anything more magnificent in my life.

  His hands came to my hips and he urged me to move, to fuck him hard and fast. I ignored him and instead planted my hands on his chest, my eyes locking with his, and I rolled my hips nice and slow and deep. His fingers flexed, digging into my hips, the tendons in his neck bulging under his skin.

  I worked us both at my pace, giving him everything, not letting him hide from me.

  His big chest was pumping when I finally dropped forward, my hair falling around us like a curtain, and gently kissed his mouth, my tongue teasing his. I kept my eyes open, watching how his eyelids fluttered, felt each breath puffing from his nose, and when I pulled back I stayed there, my face hovering an inch above his.

  “You feel so good moving inside me,” I said. “You were right. My body was made for you…and yours was made for me.” I rolled my hips again, unable to take my eyes off him or the expression on his face.

  Beau was lost, spinning, so deep in this moment with me that for once he was at a loss for words.

  I started moving faster, and every slide of my body against his worked my clit against the thick base of his cock. I was going to come again, and I knew it would be even more intense than the first because this time I had Beau’s eyes on me.

  He felt it—I could see it on his face. He could feel the way I was tightening around him. Beau grew bigger inside me, and I knew he was right there with me.

  He groaned, lids lowering a little, eyes still on me as one of his hands slid down my back to my ass, the other to the nape of my neck, and he held me there.

  My mouth dropped open when he started thrusting up hard and fast. I could do nothing but take it.

  I cried out a moment later, his name tumbling over my tongue. Beau jerked beneath me, a roar exploding from him as he came, hips grinding, cock pulsing and pumping erratically in and out of me.

  I collapsed on top of him, my mouth at his throat, kissing and sucking, tasting. I was reeling from what just happened between us, my body still alight, still experiencing aftershocks from the best orgasm of my life.

  I lifted my hand to the side of his face and moved my mouth to his ear. “I love you,” I said before I knew the words were coming. And this time I didn’t just say it in my head, I said it loud and clear, and there was no mistaking them for anything else.

  I held my breath. They were out now and there was no taking them back.

  Beau froze.

  I waited, and the silence stretched out between us.

  “I’m not one for empty words, I only say something if I mean it.”

  He wasn’t going to say it.

  I’d ruined everything.

  11

  Beau

  I lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, the silence now deafening.

  If it were possible to go back in time and stop her from saying those three words right before she said them, I would, because then nothing would have to change. I could carry on pretending that she was perfect for me in every way.

  I knew that was a lie, though. I’d known it since our first fishing trip, hadn’t I? When it quickly became obvious that she had no idea what she was doing. But I’d wanted her too much, I’d wanted this to work, so I’d spent the last two weeks in denial, pretending it could. Going as far as interrupting her every time I thought she might confess whatever she was hiding from me. So I could keep her, so I could keep her a little longer.

  I could have gotten past the lies, but love, that had never been part of the deal. It wasn’t real. And if it was, I would never, could never, give that much of myself to another person. Freya knew that, goddamn it.

  I’d been a fool to think I could have this, a relationship on my terms, that this could work.

  Freya stirred and lifted to her elbows, looking down at me. Her hair was wild around her face, her cheeks flushed, mouth puffy and sexy, eyes wide.

  “Beau…” There was a question in her voice that made my gut ache and sent irrational anger firing through me so hard and fast my head spun.

  I didn’t understand it, the anger, I just knew that I was pissed off with myself and, dammit, with Freya for saying those three fucking words and ruining everything. I couldn’t deal with it. And for once I couldn’t hide behind an easy smile. I couldn’t hide at all. There was no disguising the way I was feeling right then.

  So instead of addressing what she’d just
said, I let the anger take hold. Because I sure as hell didn’t know—didn’t understand—the other emotions I was feeling, and that just pissed me off all the more. “When were you going to tell me?” I said.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “That it was all a lie? That half, if not all, of the things you said to me were bullshit?” Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew what I was doing, that I was pushing her away, that I was doing whatever I had to do to avoid dealing with her feelings—and with mine.

  She jolted then jerked back, taking her soft warmth away from me, leaving me cold. “You knew?” she whispered.

  I clenched my jaw and dipped my chin. “I tried to convince myself that I was wrong, but I suspected from the beginning. I just didn’t want to believe it. You never lived on a ranch, did you?”

  “Why didn’t you…” She shook her head. “You never said, you—”

  “When?” I gritted out. Jesus, she looked distressed, upset, and I was acting like the world’s biggest asshole, but I couldn’t pull it back. I was afraid of what might happen if I did, if I decided to let this go, if I gave her the tiniest inch.

  Her fingers twisted the sheets. “I was going to tell you. I was just…I was trying to find the right time.”

  “The right time would have been when we started talking,” I said. “We could have prevented this…this…” I bit off my words, not knowing how to finish them. Freya’s stricken expression was killing me, weakening my resolve. I couldn’t have that. I knew better.

  “You care about me, Beau. I know you do,” she said.

  I shoved my fingers though my hair. “You knew what I wanted, Freya, what I didn’t want, and right now—”

  “I don’t check any of your boxes, right?” She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest, hiding her body from me. “I’m the opposite of what you were looking for?”

  Her words were like knives to the chest. I didn’t want to hurt her. I…shit, I cared about her. “Freya—”

  “The reason I contacted you, the reason I lied…” She looked down, her lower lip quivering. “You’re going to think this is stupid, but”— her eyes lifted back to mine. “I fell for you, Beau, the minute I saw your picture. Call it fate or kismet, or…I don’t know, but I knew this, us, were meant to be.”