Captured by Mr. Wild (The Men Series Book 4)

‘DO YOU HAVE TO wax old guys’ hairy ball sacks?”

I almost spit out my drink as I cough. “Kayla! What? No! I do the massage therapy.”

“Thank fuck for that.” She tips her head back and downs her drink. “Another, please.” She signals to the bartender.

A young woman comes and takes our glasses and replaces them with two full, fresh ones, her eyes lingering on my face.

“Thanks, Cindy.” Kayla grins.

I watch her head back down to the other end of the bar. I forgot what it was like being in a small town like Hope Cove. She’s probably wondering who the newcomer with the terrible DIY dyed hair is.

“You’re enjoying it, then?” Kayla clinks her glass against mine, taking a sip and screwing her nose up. “God, can you please dig out one of your aunt’s homebrew recipes? Then we won’t have to drink this stuff… Jesus.” She winces.

Despite being at the other end of the bar, Cindy throws Kayla a look, which has her mouthing, Sorry.

“Seriously, though,” she whispers. “This stuff is like drain cleaner in comparison.”

I stare into my glass at the clear liquid. She’s right. My aunt’s homebrewed gin would wipe the floor with this mass-produced version. But it’s all we’ve got right now, so I take another large gulp, sucking in a breath as the burn courses down my throat.

I’m glad she talked me into coming out with her tonight. This entire week has been good for me. Being at the spa with Maria and the other therapists, and sitting here now, the heat from the liquor loosening up the coil I’ve been wound into for months. It feels great. For the first time in months, I’m remembering what it’s like to not feel as though I’m teetering on a knife’s edge. One that’s ready to slash me whichever way I move.

“What? We’re supposed to be celebrating, aren’t we?” I laugh as Kayla grins at the sight of me knocking back another mouthful.

“Yes, we are! Come on then, tell me.” Her eager eyes study my face, waiting for me to speak.

“It’s great, Kayla. Really great.” I can’t help the warmth spreading in my chest as I talk about the spa. “It’s really beautiful and so tranquil. Maria has created something so amazing there. I’m not surprised she’s won all those awards. It’s like stepping into an enchanted temple where time stops, and your troubles don’t exist.”

“It’s great, isn’t it? Travis took me there for our last wedding anniversary.”

My chest tightens, and I look down at the dark wood of the bar as I blink.

“I’m so sorry I never wished you a happy anniversary. Or for the others I missed before. I never even saw you on your wedding day.” I lift my eyes to meet Kayla’s, expecting her to be mad. I deserve it. What kind of friend keeps in touch for years and then disappears one day without a word?

Her brows lift and she reaches over, pulling me into her.

“Don’t be silly. You were back in England and we were young and broke. I never expected you to make it to the wedding.”

“It’s not the point.” I sniff as she lets me go and I sink back onto the bar stool, the room spinning slightly. “I’ve been such a shit friend.”

I stare up at the framed photograph behind the bar to steady myself. It’s a picture of Hope Cove, taken from up high in the forest somewhere. You can see the coast stretching round. The hotel at the farthest point of the beach. The town’s main street. The lake. I swallow down the lump in my throat as I look at the small gray roof next to the lake. I wonder when this photo was taken. Was my aunt still alive then? Was she out in her garden? Sitting on the porch? Was I there with her, mixing up another experiment in the kitchen? Was I still the girl who believed in all things good, and pure, and sweet?

Kayla’s eyes follow my gaze, and she opens her mouth as if to comment on the picture, but instead, she frowns before turning toward me.

“Why did you disappear from social media? We could at least talk before. None of us knew what happened to you.”

I stare back into her eyes. They’re kind, waiting, but not forcing anything out of me. I should at least explain something, even if I can’t bring myself to say all the words out loud. I knock back another gulp of liquid courage and take a deep breath.

“I met a guy. His name was Mick. Ironic really.” My voice slurs slightly. “Mickey and Daisy. We sound like two cartoon characters. But nothing about him was fun. Not in the end.” I let out a humorless laugh as my eyes wander around the bar.

Herbies is a nice place. I can see why the locals like it. It’s all dark wood, a long bar, deep booth seating, a TV playing in the corner. It’s not trying to be anything fancy. It just is what it is, and it’s proud of it. It’s a warm, welcoming hug after being caught in a thunderstorm without a coat. There are a few other people in here, catching up with one another, their conversations quiet.

I refocus on Kayla, blinking as the gin gives me another head rush.

“Mick didn’t like me being online. He was… he’d get jealous. In the beginning, I thought it was romantic. I thought it must be because he loved me so much.”

Kayla nods, resting her elbow on the bar and cradling her chin in her hand.

“But it got to the point where he didn’t like what I wore, or if I went out without him. I had an amazing job I loved, working for a rugby club as the team sports therapist. I helped them look after themselves, deal with injuries, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds like a hard job. All those fit guys in shorts.” Kayla raises her brows at me with a small smile.

I smile back. “Yeah. It had its perks. But I loved helping the team. It wasn’t about anything else to me. But Mick… he didn’t like it. He thought I was going to leave him and start a relationship with one of them.”

“He sounds like an insecure jerk.” Kayla takes another mouthful of her drink. “Is that why you came over here? To nurse a broken heart?”

“No. I came to sort my aunt’s house out before it’s put on the market,” I say unconvincingly, dropping my gaze back to my glass. It’s empty again. I don’t even remember finishing it.

Kayla signals to Cindy, who comes to refill it.

What is this? Number four now? Five? I’ve lost count.

Cindy looks me up and down as she pours. I smile back. But she just purses her lips before heading off to serve someone else. For a bartender, she isn’t too friendly.

“No offence, but you always were a shit liar.” Kayla grins before I can ask her what Cindy’s problem is.

Despite myself, I laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yep. Like that time you put shaving foam under Travis’ car door handles, so it squirted out everywhere when he went to open it. You swore it was Blake.”

“It was!” I laugh again, my eyes lighting up. “I swear, it was him. It was his foam.”

“That just happened to make its way into your hands?” Kayla smirks at me.

I shake my head. Blake and I were as much to blame as each other. That was such a great day. We all spent the day on my aunt’s jetty, swimming in the lake.

I let out a deep sigh, swirling the liquid in my glass. It looks out of focus. I should have stopped with the last one.

“So, you’re here to mend your broken heart after breaking up with a jerk. We should drink to that!” Kayla grins at me, and I shake my head as I frown at my drink.

Fuck it.

What harm is one more going to do? It’ll only get poured down the sink otherwise. Although, from Kayla’s earlier words, that’s where it belongs.

I raise my glass and tip my head back. A strange, breathy growl escapes my lips as my throat stings.

“Hell, Dee. Trav said he’ll give us a lift home, but you’re going to need carrying at this rate.” Kayla’s mouth drops open as I slam my glass back down on the counter.

“I can sling her in the back of my truck,” a deep voice says.

I spin on my stool, a sudden wave of heat rushing to my head as the alcohol takes a firm hold over my senses.

“Hey, Blake.” I don’t know why, but I lean forward and place my palm against his solid chest. “What are you doing here?”

His green eyes dance in amusement as he watches me.

“Coming to have a drink with you, now that I’ve finished teaching my class. Looks like you’ve had a good head start, eh?”

I ignore him as my eyes drop over his khaki t-shirt and faded jeans to the boots on his feet. My hand is still glued firmly to his chest, relishing the heat radiating into my palm from his body.

“Where are the teeny, tiny shorts that have all the women staring at your thighs?” I slur.

Kayla snorts back a giggle behind me.

Blake’s dark brows rise as he smiles, a flash of his perfect white teeth showing.

“Don’t go smiling at me like that. I’ve seen them. They’re huge. What do you eat for breakfast? Rocks?” I giggle suddenly, thinking I’m hilarious.

“I think the lift home might be a good idea,” Kayla says as she gets up and pats Blake on the shoulder. She leans down and gives me a hug. “See you, Dee.”

I watch as she heads toward the exit where Travis has just appeared. She says something to him and they both look over in our direction before giving us a wave and heading out the door.

“Travis didn’t even get a drink.” I sigh in exaggerated sympathy. “You want another one with me, though, don’t you, Blake?” I turn my attention back to him.

He leans close, placing one hand over mine on his chest, and the other on my lower back.

“I think it’s time we drive back home. With the windows down. You look like you could do with some air.” His warm breath tickles my neck and I sigh as he guides me off the stool and to my feet.

“You smell good, Blake Anderson. What is that?” I turn to face him and wrap my arms up around his neck, burying my face into his neck below his chin and inhaling deeply.

A mix of wood and sea salt.

“I just showered,” he says, his voice making his neck vibrate against my cheek.

“So, it’s just clean, then?” I draw back to look at him, swaying a little. “Mr. Clean.” I snort as I erupt into giggles. “I thought you were Mr. ‘let’s get dirty’ Wild?”

“Okay, Daisy,” he says, a smile spreading over his face as he turns me and wraps a muscular arm around my waist so he can help me walk.

I’m really not that drunk. I’m just at that nice stage of tipsy where everything feels warm and wonderful. But I don’t want to tell Blake that. His arm feels too good wrapped around my body.

“Who’s Daisy?” I blow out a breath, catching the eye of a man drinking at the bar as we approach the exit. “Excuse me. Do you know who Daisy is?”

He looks back at me in confusion before his eyes meet Blake’s.

“It’s okay, Greg. She’s my friend. Who seems to have had one too many celebratory drinks. Wait until I talk to Kayla.” He looks down at me, his brows raised as he smirks.

I shake my head and throw my arms wide. Blake tightens his grip around me.

“Has anyone seen Daisy?” I call out to the bar in delight. “We’ve lost an English girl!”

I catch sight of the bartender, Cindy, with her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on Blake.

“Thank you for the drinks!” I grin at her. “Gin for the win!” I punch up in the air as Blake ushers me out.

The night air hits me in the face, sobering me a little, and I take deep, greedy breaths as Blake walks us over to his truck and lifts me into the passenger seat. He leans over me and fastens my seatbelt, his face inches from mine.

“There. Can’t have you falling out, can we?” He grins at me and then heads round, jumping into the driver’s side and starting the engine.

“Okay, little Miss Gin. I think we’ll take the scenic route home. It’ll give you time to sober up. Here.” He passes me a bottle of water he’s screwed the top off. “Drink this.”

“Are you always this bossy?” I turn my head to look at him.

He smirks and shakes his head as he starts the engine.

“Why? Do you like it?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Is it Mr. Clean or Mr. Dirty I’m talking to?” I snort as a whole fresh wave of giggles rise and I let my head fall back against the headrest as I drink the water.

Blake doesn’t say anything. He just winds down the windows like he said he would. I lean my head on my arms on the doorframe, gazing at the stars in the clear night sky as we drive.

“Can’t believe you have your own fan club,” I mutter as we drive along the road, through town and along the beachfront. He wasn’t lying. He is taking us the long way home. I let out a sigh and finish the water.

My head is still warm, but only a little fuzzy as we pull up outside my aunt’s house. I’m feeling more awake and a lot less giggly.

A lot more in control.

“Stay right there,” Blake says, hopping out and coming around to open my door.

He leans over me to unfasten my seatbelt, and I hold my breath, studying the side of his face. His eyes look dark in the moonlight, faint creases at their corners from where he smiles so much.

Before I can stop myself, I lift my hand and dust my fingertips over the lines, tracing them. Blake stills as my seatbelt unlocks. The click and noise of it retracting are the only sounds echoing around the truck. He turns his face toward me, and I remember to breathe again, my chest rising and falling in the small space between us as I look back into his eyes and wet my lips with my tongue.

It’s probably only a couple of seconds, but I swear my heart skips a beat as his eyes drop to follow my tongue.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” He moves back and takes my hand, helping me down from the truck.

I’m much steadier on my feet since leaving the bar, so he doesn’t put his arm around me, just keeps his hand wrapped firmly around mine as he leads me up the steps and stops in front of the door.

“Will you be okay from here?” His eyes drop from my eyes to my lips and back up again.

Something stirs in my core, and suddenly I don’t want this night to end.

I don’t want him to go anywhere.

“Will you help me into bed if I say no?” I bite my lip and look up at him from under my lashes.

Despite the earlier gin haze, my body and mouth seem very insistent on what they want.

They want him.

Blake grits his teeth together and lets out a sound between a growl and a sigh as he runs his free hand through his hair and looks away.

My cheeks heat and my throat burns.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know how… I’ve never forgotten.”

His eyes come back to mine. “Never forgotten what?”

I stare back at him as I force myself to whisper the words. “That you don’t want that. You didn’t want to kiss me ten years ago on my last night here, so why would you want it now?”

I can’t help feeling that I sound like a sulky teenager with my confession.

His eyes widen and his mouth drops open as if my words have shocked him.

I can’t believe I just said that out loud. All these years I’ve kept my pass at Blake that night a closely guarded secret. Admittingly, it’s not news to him. But now that I’ve opened my mouth, the knowledge that I remember it is no longer a secret. And not only that, but now he knows I still think about it.

I pull my hand from his, turning to the door and searching in my pockets for the key. I just want to open it and get inside. Forget this entire conversation ever happened. Maybe I can even pretend I don’t remember it? He knows I’ve had a few drinks. Maybe Blake will buy that if I just play dumb next time I see him.

“Turn around.” His voice is gruff as he lowers his lips to my ear.

I hesitate as goosebumps scatter up my spine and over my arms.

“I said. Turn. Around.” His breath vibrates over the back of my neck as I swallow and turn back to face him slowly.

He rests both of his hands against the door, leaning forward and trapping me between his arms.

“You think I didn’t kiss you that night because I didn’t want to?” His brow creases as his eyes burn into mine with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

Not in him. Not in anyone.

I gulp and nod as I lift my chin to look up at him. He’s so close; our foreheads are almost touching. My body feels like it’s about to be lit on fire with the heat radiating from him. One final spark and I’ll be engulfed.

His next words appear to be planned carefully before they leave his lips.

“I didn’t kiss you that night because you’d been drinking. And you were my friend. What kind of creep would that have made me if you’d regretted it the next day?” His jaw tenses as he watches me, waiting for me to speak.

I open my mouth and stare at him.

“And now?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

He flexes his arms and his biceps bulge, the movement causing the tattoo on his arm to ripple, catching my attention from the corner of my eye.

“And now you’ve been drinking. And you’re still my friend.”

He stares down at me, not moving any closer, but not moving away, either. The wood of the door is hard against my back as my body tingles in anticipation under his gaze.

If I die now by spontaneous human combustion, then at least I will die knowing what being this close to him feels like.

“What if I won’t regret it in the morning?” I whisper.

He sucks in a breath and takes a long pause before hissing out. “You don’t know that.”

I stand up straighter, so my breasts press against his. “We’re not seventeen anymore, Blake. We’re both adults.”

“What are you saying?” he forces out, his eyes burning into mine like green fire.

Magical. Wild.

I gaze up at him and am overwhelmed with emotion. I don’t want to think about the past few years. I don’t want to think about what’s waiting for me back in England. I don’t want to think about what I wish I could forget.

I don’t want to think at all.

All I want is to be here.

In this moment.

With him.

My breath hitches in my throat as I look into his eyes.

“I’m saying I want you, Blake. I want you to make me feel.”

My words are like the last hit, pushing through his restraint. That final strike of a match that erupts into fire. A low growl sounds in his throat as he pushes forward and crashes his lips onto mine. They’re soft and warm.

And urgent.

Blake Anderson kisses me like I’m the last lungful of oxygen the world has to give.

My hands wrap around the back of his neck as I pull him closer. He bends his elbows, his hands still firmly against the door as he leans into me, pressing his giant, solid body against mine. I gasp as his unmistakable erection presses against my lower stomach.

“Open the door,” he bites out, his mouth dropping to my neck and trailing scorching hot kisses from my ear to my collarbone.

I pull my hands from his neck and fish out my key from my jean pocket, turning in the tiny space between his arms to slide it into the lock. His arms finally move, giving me room to open the door. He presses against my back, one hand coming up to hold my throat, the other grasping my hip.

“Are you sure you want this?” His voice is rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

God, if one kiss and him talking to me has this effect, what the hell is sex with him going to be like?

“Yes,” I murmur as the throbbing between my legs wracks up a notch.

“You don’t sound sure.” His grip on my neck tightens as he strokes the underside of my jaw with his thumb.

Fuck.

“Yes!” I cry as a wave of arousal rushes to me, making my core shudder.

He spins me quickly, lifting me up into his arms and striding into the hallway, kicking the door shut behind us. I wrap my legs up around his waist and hook my ankles at his back as I snake my arms around his neck and sink my hands into his hair.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes searching mine.

“You can change your mind. It’s okay.”

I look at his eyes, dark with desire, and his rock-hard cock is pressing into the underside of my ass. He wants this as much as I do.

“Stop fucking stalling, Blake. I’ve said yes.”

I drag my hands through his hair as I lower my lips to his and try to demonstrate with my kiss just how much I meant that word.

Yes.

He draws back, and his eyes have taken on a dangerous glint. He carries me up the stairs and into the bedroom while I fight to control the urge to tear my clothes off and tell him to do whatever the hell he wants with me. I’ve never ached for someone to touch me so badly. Every nerve ending in my body seems to be screaming out for him.

Blake Anderson. Blake Anderson.

We stop in front of the bed, and Blake releases his grip on me. I slide slowly down his body and place my feet back on the floor. His eyes drop to the waistband of my jeans as he brushes a finger up under my t-shirt and exposes my stomach.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers in awe as he balls the fabric up in his fist and pulls me to him.

His mouth finds mine again in the perfect mix of heat and pressure. I moan against his lips as his tongue takes control of me, making my breath stall.

Blake Anderson was made for kissing.

He lets out a low groan as his hands run up the sides of my body, taking my t-shirt off over my head with them.

I’m already short of breath as I pull back to look at him. His eyes are on my breasts and my nipples harden beneath the fabric of my bra in response to the hunger in them. I keep my eyes on his face as I push his t-shirt up over his hard stomach. He reaches one hand behind his neck and yanks it off.

I should have been ready for the sight of him after seeing him that morning in his sweatpants. But nothing could have prepared me for Blake Anderson here, in front of me, in the flesh.

“Blake…” My mouth drops open as my eyes roam over every curve of his torso. Every muscle, every line of dark ink, which only looks darker in the moonlit room.

He’s a work of art.

His lips pull into a smile as he leans down to kiss me, one hand reaching around and unsnapping my bra with ease. It falls to the floor, freeing my nipples, which are tight, pleading to be touched.

I let out a strangled gasp as his hands move over my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumb and finger.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before dipping his head and wrapping his hot mouth and tongue around them. He sucks and I arch my back, crying out as a wave of pleasure floods my body.

“Blake, just you doing that… God, you’re making me so wet,” I pant, tilting my head back and allowing myself to become lost in the sensation.

He pauses. “Fuck, you’re killing me here. You can’t say things like that to a man. Not unless you want to be fucked hard.” His voice sounds strained as he continues his exploration of my tits.

I let out a moan. God, yes, I want that. I want him to fuck me and not hold back. I want him to take control of me with so much force that I can’t even think straight.

I need it.

“I do,” I moan, grabbing handfuls of his hair and dragging his face back up to mine. “I do want that.”

His eyes darken, and his brows knit together as he looks at me. He’s so restrained. So in control. Whereas I feel like I could fall apart at any second if he doesn’t touch me.

I push myself against him, so my nipples press into his chest. I hear him suck in a breath.

“Blake,” I whisper, “I want everything you can possibly give me.”

He groans. It starts deep inside his chest as he unbuttons my jeans and I grab at his. By the time he has me in just my panties, and him in his boxers, his groan has turned into a hiss caught between gritted teeth.

“It won’t be gentle,” he says as he pushes his boxers down and grabs his thick cock in his hand, pumping it slowly.

I can’t help staring at it. It’s like the rest of his body.

Big. Broad. Powerful.

“Perfect,” I answer as I wriggle out of my panties and stand naked in front of him.

He looks at me one last time, as though fighting the ultimate battle in his head about what we’re about to do. Then his jaw clenches, and he pushes me back on the bed, climbing over me.

“Fuck,” I cry out as he pushes two thick fingers inside me, stretching me wide. My body gives in like a submissive animal that’s met their alpha, and wetness rushes to him, coating his fingers and making them slick. The sound of it carries around the room as he finger-fucks me slowly, his thumb tracing circles over my clit.

“God, Blake, I can’t… I can’t.” I throw my head back and grab fistfuls of the bedsheet by my sides as pressure builds inside me.

“You can’t what?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my nipples where his mouth is.

“I can’t stop… it’s so… God,” I groan as my body stiffens and I push off the bed, lifting my hips to meet his fingers. “It’s too much… Blake,” I plead with him, but I’m not sure what it is I’m pleading for.

A release? Mercy? More?

He slides down my body and gives me a wicked grin as he buries his head between my legs. He replaces his thumb with the flat of his tongue, pressing it up against my swollen clit as I writhe underneath him.

“You taste so damn sweet,” he groans, placing open-mouthed kisses all over me and then sucking my clit.

“Blake!” I scream as I shudder underneath him, the pressure finally reaching its peak as I come hard on his face. He uses his free hand to push my leg down so he can swirl his tongue over me and push his fingers deeper. The muscles in my core spasm around them as sweat breaks out on my hairline.

I pant, fighting to control the waves of pleasure taking control of my body. As they slow, my fists loosen their grip on the sheets. Blake slides his fingers out and moves back up, so his face is almost touching mine, a wide grin taking over his face.

“You taste so fucking good when you come.” He leans down and swipes his tongue through my lips so I can share my taste with him. “I could drink up your pussy’s orgasms all night,” he growls as he nips my bottom lip between his teeth.

My clit throbs at his words, and I let go of the sheets and wrap one hand around his neck, deepening our kiss as I wrap my other hand around his thick cock.

God, he’s big.

My body is aching deep in my core with the need to have him inside me. I run my hand up and down, dragging his tip against me, covering it in my wetness. I circle my hips, moaning as I slip just the head of him inside me and back out again.

“You feel so good.” I smile against his lips.

“I’m not going to be able to stop myself if you keep doing that,” Blake hisses as I circle myself back down over the head of his cock again.

I want to feel him. Every inch of him. Inside me. Connecting with me. If he stops now, I swear I will implode.

There will be nothing left of me.

“There’s never been anyone else like that, Blake.” I inch down onto him a little further before pulling him back out again.

I mean it. The thought of having bare sex has never entered my mind before.

Before Blake. The Blake I have known almost my entire life.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his arms shaking.

“Is that the same for you?” I whisper in his ear, breathing in his fresh, woody scent as I rub the head of his cock against me again.

“Yes,” he forces out through gritted teeth. “But I don’t want you to feel—”

Before he can say anything more, I hold the base of him and lift my hips, so he slides further inside me.

He lets out a deep groan and pushes all the way forward, knocking the air from my lungs as he buries himself deep.

I throw my head back, savoring the fullness his thick cock is providing. I thought I’d struggle to take him so easily, but my body knows what it wants and sends a new rush of wet arousal all around him.

“God, you feel incredible!”

“You’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about you, beneath me like this,” he says as he lifts his chin and slams into me.

My eyes meet his, but I don’t have time to consider his words. All I can do is drop my mouth open and watch as he fucks me.

And I mean fucks me.

Blake Anderson fucking is like watching a dark, intense god command an entire existence.

Created specially to do it.

Every muscle in his body ripples and tenses as he rises onto his fists and pumps into me, slamming me down into the mattress, his dark, hungry eyes never leaving mine. My body craves him, sucking him in greedily, hungry for him—starved.

I put my hands over his fists and grip on, my knuckles turning white as he drives his cock deeper with each hit. It’s almost more than I can stand, as my body trembles from head to toe.

“Blake, I’m going to…” The familiar tightening winds inside me, before it snaps, and I buck underneath him, coming with a force that makes me scream out his name again.

He screws his face up. “Oh, God, I can feel you clamping down on my cock when you come. It’s fucking incredible!”

He thrusts into me harder, deeper, forcing his cock in as far as it will reach. I’m thrown up the bed underneath him as his heavy balls hit my skin. Sweat glistens on his chest as he pulls one hand out from underneath mine and slams his palm against the wall above the headboard with a loud thud.

“Daisy! Oh, fuck, Daisy!”

He drives into me as his orgasm explodes, ripping through him as he groans and every muscle in his body tenses. At that moment, he snaps his eyes open, and they burn into mine, stealing the breath straight from my lungs.

Then searing heat spreads inside me, filling every fiber of my soul.

Branding me forever.

I thought Blake Anderson was made for kissing.

But after this sight, I know he was made for fucking… and every filthy thing in between.

All I can do is lie in wonder, staring into his deep green eyes.

My body exhausted.

My mind in awe.

For the first time in months, I’m not in the past. I’m not anything other than right here, right now.

In the present moment.

With him.