Page 36 of Wild and Wanted

That was dizzying.

‘Can you meet me in the barn in ten minutes?’

Stevie didn’t even consider saying no. She just nodded dumbly, the feral call of her libido firmly in charge. Not knowing how she was going to get to the barn undetected with so many people still at the cookout, just knowing she would.

Knowing she’d leap tall buildings in a single bound if that was required. Sneaking away from a group of people? That felt like chicken feed.

And God help anyone who got in her way.

11

STEVIE

In the end, it was easier than she thought thanks to the placement of the restroom facilities. Mags had spotted her mid escape, calling for her to join the group she was standing with, and Stevie had called, ‘Coming, just…’ and pointed in the direction of the rustic-looking amenities block, and Mags had nodded and turned back to her conversation.

She figured with time to use the restroom and Mags’s distraction, she might get twenty minutes with Clay.

Twenty. Minutes.

Stevie might not have any practical experience with the sexual act but it didn’t require experience or genius to know a lot could happen in twenty minutes. Was tonight the night she was going to finally cash in that V card Yolly had urged her to lose the second she’d cashed hers in at the age of fifteen?

Did she want it to be?

Over the years she’d romanticised the experience, fantasised about all the details. A huge bed with satin sheets, rose petals and soft music. A handsome guy she’d known for a while who she loved and who loved her back. All the time in the world to explore and play.

She’d never imagined anything as… rustic as a barn. Or sneaking away in the middle of a party. Or a guy she’d known for just over a week.

She’d never imagined Clay Calhoun.

But how could even her fertile imagination have conjured up such a specimen? So big and sure and… wild. She’d pictured a modern-day gentleman in chinos and brogues straight out of Elle or Vogue. Not an old-fashioned howdy ma’am cowboy in fringed chaps and boots straight out of the Wild West.

It was him that she wanted, though. She definitely wanted the cowboy.

The thought was like an intracardiac injection of adrenaline and by the time she snuck in the more secluded side-door entrance to the barn, her heart was beating like she’d run a marathon. She was so primed for what was about to happen she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to need twenty minutes.

Hell, she’d probably climax the second his mouth touched down on hers.

It was darker inside, the air stiller, a mix of hay and engine grease scenting the air in a not unpleasant aroma. It was… earthy. Like him. Like Clay. And Stevie was coming to appreciate earthy.

‘Clay?’ she whispered as her eyes adjusted to the lower light, conscious of the muffled murmur of the cookout continuing outside.

Of her life – Stephanie’s life – continuing outside.

She didn’t get an answer, not a verbal one anyway, just a hand clamping around her waist, turning her until her back was pressed against the wall beside the door and her hands were lifted above her head, her wrists shackled together by one big hand.

‘Hey,’ his raspy voice greeted on a low rumble.

‘Hey,’ she rasped in return, her breath moving in and out of her chest in an agitated kind of anticipation.

And then he was kissing her so hard and so hot and so hungry, his mouth roving over hers, owning every inch of it, all Stevie could do was lean in and let him as she rode the thick pulse of desire pumping double time around her body. His tongue licked into her mouth as his hips moved against hers and the hard ridge of him pressed into the soft ache of her rolling sensation to every inch of her body.

She moaned into his mouth and he sucked it in with greedy abandon.

A slug of lust punched through her system and she pushed against the restraint of her wrists which felt confusingly good, but she needed to put her hands on him.

She needed to touch him.

He didn’t resist, his hands falling away to smooth down her body, skimming the sides of her breasts and ribs and waist before anchoring on her hips, gripping them firmly, holding her to him where she was left in no doubt as to the level of his arousal.