Wild Child Read Free Page A

what he’s missing out on.  Maybe he’ll realize he doesn’t want to be without me.  It’s worth a try anyway.  Rusty’s worth a lot of tries.
    We drop into single file formation as we trek through the woods. I’ve heard Cami talk about the pond on their property and how much she and Trick love to visit it, but I’ve never been.  When the trees part to reveal an oval clearing dominated by a sparkling fresh-water pond and absolute silence, I can see why it’s a favorite of theirs.  It would be a favorite of mine, too.
    Trick and Cami drift off to one side. I can barely make out their whispers and Cami’s giggles from where I’m standing.  It’s just enough privacy for everyone without there being…trouble.
    When I feel a palm brush my butt and Rusty appears at my side, I quit thinking of anyone except him.
    “Need some help with these?” Rusty asks, trailing his hand over my hip as he walks around in front of me.
    “I think I just might.  This zipper can be awfully hateful,” I say with mock seriousness. 
    “Mmm, I figured as much,” he says, stepping in close to me again.  I can feel warmth radiating from his body as though there’s nothing between us at all—no clothes, no air, no emotional separation.  Just… heat. “But we’d better start with your shirt. I don’t want to get tangled up in it as I’m working on that faulty zipper.”  His eyes appear black in the low light, his dilated pupils overwhelming the azure of his irises.
    “I’ll trust your judgment,” I reply, my heart already racing.
    “Lift your arms,” he commands quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.
    Obediently, I lift my arms over my head and I wait.  Rusty watches me for several seconds before he presses his palms to my waist and slides them slowly upward, caressing my rib cage, thumbs teasing my nipples as he drags up the material of my shirt.  I close my eyes for a heartbeat as he runs his palms up my arms, bringing my tee with them.  When Rusty gently removes the shirt from my head, I open my eyes again, falling head long into the desire I see in his. 
    “Thank you,” I breathe.
    “Now for this pesky thing,” he muses as he slides a finger under the strap of my bra.  “I’m sure it could get in the way.”
    “I’m sure,” I agree, trying hard to remember my objective so that I don’t get lost in the moment.
    Rusty reaches around me and pops open the hook of my bra with one flick of his fingers.  He runs his hands up over my shoulders and down my arms, removing my bra straps as he goes.
    I see his eyes flicker down.  My nipples tighten when I hear him suck in a breath through his clenched teeth.  I know he wants to touch them. He loves my body. He’s told me a thousand times as he worships every inch of it.  But this time, he’ll have to love it from a distance. Even if it’s a short distance.
    “My shorts,” I prompt, knowing I’m dangerously close to giving in to my need of him.
    Rusty’s gaze comes back to mine.  He doesn’t move. Or speak. He just watches me. I know he’s fighting touching me.  And I let him.
    Finally, he drops to one knee and reaches for my waistband.  Carefully, he unbuttons my shorts and then slowly unzips them.  He doesn’t touch me in any way except when he leans forward just enough to press his lips to the top edge of my panties. 
    Heat pours into my core and my body throbs for him to kiss me lower.  Then lower still.  But he doesn’t.  With his face so close I can feel his breath, Rusty pulls my shorts down my legs then follows them with my panties.
    When I’m standing before him, wearing nothing but my shoes and a passion for him that never seems to die, he looks up at me.  For a few seconds, I think it’s over. The game is over.  He’s going to kiss me and I’m going to let him.  But he doesn’t.  Instead, Rusty stands slowly to his feet and says, “Your turn.”
    I kick off my shoes, take a deep breath and curl my fingers in the hem of