Wilde at Heart Read online

  Sure, he was only touching her now as part of his husband act, but she took full advantage. She leaned in to his side as they followed the other couple toward the dinner table, played up the whole crazy-in-love newlywed thing. But instead of making him uncomfortable, he went with the flow, again surprising her. The man could act. Nobody looking at the two of them would see anything other than happy newlyweds and it made her…well, a little sad. Deep down, she admitted to herself that she wouldn’t mind if it was more than an act. Wouldn’t ever happen, but still. That didn’t stop her from wanting it.

  Reece nuzzled her ear. “Are you okay?”

  No. No, she wasn’t because she’d been lying to him from the start, and she hated it. Hated that she’d just given his slightly tipsy financial officer the third degree to get info on his company. But she didn’t dare tell him the truth about Jason’s investigation into DMW Systems, especially not while he was already worried about the blackmail, so she shoved the guilt aside. Besides, maybe her snooping would uncover something to help him because the more she thought about it, the more her instincts called foul at the oh-so-coincidental timing of Jason’s investigation and Reece’s blackmail.

  Were they connected? Something to think about.

  Reece pulled her to a stop, searched her eyes. The crease of a frown formed between his brows. “Shelby?”

  Realizing she’d gone too long without answering his question, she plastered on a smile and nodded. “I’m fine, but I could do without Cruella De Vil over there staring holes into us.”

  He lifted his head, spotted Lena, and his frown deepened. “I didn’t know she was here. I’m sorry. I should have warned you about her.”

  “That’s okay. Alicia saved me.” And was then interrogated for her trouble. Dammit. She wished she didn’t like Alicia so much, because now guilt gnawed at her insides for using the woman as an unwitting source of information.

  At the dinner table, Reece held out a chair for her before taking his own seat. Irving James sat at the head of the table to Reece’s left and the moment his butt hit the chair, the waiters appeared with the first course. Like a well-rehearsed play. Or maybe a dance. All of the waitstaff moved with graceful efficiency, setting plates in front of the guests and keeping glasses filled. Shelby had never seen anything like it.

  James ignored his staff and picked up his drink. “So, Reece, this the little wife?”

  The little wife?

  She glanced over at Reece to see his reaction. His lips tightened slightly, but he nodded. “Yes, this is Shelby. Shelby, Mr. James.”

  “A word of friendly advice, from one married man to another…” James smiled in a slimy wink, wink, nudge, nudge kind of way. “Keep her on a short leash. You know what they say about redheads.”

  A short leash? Was this guy for real?

  Shelby stared across the table at Charlotte James, expecting the woman to say something chiding to her husband about the inappropriateness of the comment. At the very least, she could apologize, woman-to-woman. But Charlotte wasn’t even paying attention, too wrapped up in a conversation with one of her friends. And, that, more than the comment itself, boiled Shelby’s blood. Charlotte wasn’t unaware of her husband’s sexism—she was choosing to ignore it and setting women’s lib back sixty years in the process.

  Shelby opened her mouth, but Reece’s hand landed on her thigh under the table and squeezed hard in warning.

  Oh, come on. Not him, too. She glanced over, saw his lips pressed together in a tight, disapproving line. He gave a slight shake of the head.

  He was mad at her? But for once, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Sure, she’d wanted to tear that chauvinist a new one, but she wouldn’t risk the future of Reece’s businesses just because she was offended. And in the long run, James’s opinion meant nothing to her. Months from now, he’d be little more than a blip on her radar.

  So she was going to keep her trap shut, which didn’t explain why Reece was looking at her like she had said something offensive. She’d put up with James being a jackass if she had to, but Reece? Hell no.

  There would be consequences for this.

  Smiling to herself, she picked up her glass, took a sip. And she knew exactly how to get under his skin.

  Chapter Fifteen

  What a chauvinistic, entitled jackass.

  Reece had a few choice things to say to Irving James. Oh, how he wanted to rip the guy a new one and feared he wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping his thoughts off his face. One wrong word and he might as well kiss Wilde Security good-bye. His brothers would be out of jobs, and he refused to let that happen, even if it meant biting his tongue.

  He’d apologize to Shelby later. Make it up to her somehow. He hadn’t expected James to take cheap shots at her, though he probably should have. Should have prepared Shelby for the abuse. Or better yet, shouldn’t have subjected her to it in the first place.

  He was a jerk.

  And his hand was still on her thigh. He didn’t realize it until she parted her legs and his fingers slipped toward her inner thigh. Heat gathered in his stomach, and his cock perked to attention.

  Shit.

  He removed his hand and focused on Irving James again. “I was hoping we’d have some time to talk business.”

  James waved a hand. “No, not tonight. Tonight is about getting acquainted.”

  Something landed on his leg under the table. He reached down, thinking his napkin had slipped, and found a tiny scrap of lace, damp in the middle. His mouth went dry, and he grabbed for his drink with his free hand. Shelby innocently picked at her salad as if she hadn’t just handed him her underwear.

  Jesus. Was she trying to ruin him? She had to know by now his brain didn’t fire on all cylinders when she did stuff like this. Wasn’t last night proof?

  James was talking to him, but all he could concentrate on was that damp spot on the lace. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, fantasized about having his mouth on her sex again…

  No. No, no, no. Fuck, he needed a minute alone to get his head on straight or he wasn’t going to make it through dinner. He stuffed the panties in his pocket and stood, murmuring an excuse, not even entirely sure what he said. He strode out of the room, intending to head for the front door. The winter air should cool his jets and allow him to think again.

  Only he didn’t make it. He got as far as the front hallway when he heard the click of heels following him across the tile and turned.

  Shelby.

  That dress was sin. He’d done his best to avoid touching her tonight because ever since she stepped out of her bedroom wearing the dress, the only thoughts in his head had involved peeling her out of it.

  Sex had never been a distraction before, probably because he hadn’t known what he was missing. This was new territory for him, way off his normal beaten path, completely uncharted. And that pissed him off. He liked neat and tidy and carefully calculated plans.

  Shelby was none of that. If there was one thing you could count on from her, it was that she’d throw a wrench into the works. It was exasperating as hell. And fucking hot. Her unpredictability turned him on like nothing else.

  He was insane. Had to be.

  He didn’t realize he’d stalked forward and caged her against the wall with his hands on either side of her head until she sucked in a deep breath and her breasts scraped against the front of his shirt.

  “Are you trying to sabotage me?”

  She reached down and squeezed him through his pants. “I’m punishing you.”

  A tremble shook through his arms and legs, and he bit back a groan. “Why?”

  “Because you scowled at me like I’d done something wrong when James was the jackass.”

  That cleared some of the lust-fog from his brain. He backed away far enough to meet her gaze. “Shelby, I wasn’t angry with you. I was trying not to reach over the table and throttle James.”

  She blinked. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Insulting you like that was out o
f line and—” Voices nearby caught his attention, and he glanced up.

  Shit.

  They couldn’t be seen by James or his staff like this, both vibrating with so much sexual tension they could light a fire with the heat between them.

  He grabbed for the nearest door. Closet. Figures. But it was large, the size of some people’s bathrooms, with a center island of drawers meant to hold who knew what.

  Shelby snorted as he pushed her inside. “What is this, seven minutes in heaven? I feel like I’m back in high school.”

  “Just—stop.” He pulled the door shut, plunging the room into darkness.

  “You’ve probably never played, huh?”

  He heard her move, the air stirring with her scent in the moment before she wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her hand flattened on his stomach and slid lower, fingers dipping below his belt. She just brushed the tip of his cock and every muscle in his body tensed in response.

  “Shelby.” His voice sounded hoarse. “We’re not doing this here.”

  “Why not?” she whispered and her breath fanned over his ear. “You don’t like Irving James any more than I do, so let’s give him a big middle finger and fuck in his closet.”

  A thrill shot through him. He should not be turned on by the suggestion but, holy fuck, he was. His cock was so hard, he had to undo his belt or risk permanent damage. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I do.” She trailed the edge of a foil packet across the back of his neck and he shivered.

  “Where did that come from?” His mind ran wild with all of the possibilities.

  “My bra.”

  “Jesus.” He spun and crushed her mouth with his. All demand and no finesse. He lost all sense of reason when it came to this woman. It was liberating and maybe that was why he couldn’t keep his hands off her. With her, he found freedom.

  When they parted for air, Shelby laughed softly. “You only have seven minutes. That’s how the game works.” She nipped his bottom lip. “So make me scream.”

  His heart thumped hard in his chest. He held out a hand for the condom. “Bend over.”

  “Ooh. Makes me hot when you get all demanding.” She slapped the package into his palm and turned around. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he could just make out the outline of her leaning in to the island, parting her legs and thrusting her ass toward him.

  She was just begging for a spanking.

  He found her thigh with his hand, skimmed his palm up the smooth flesh of her bare ass. He’d wanted his handprint there since the very first time he saw her, so he hauled back and gave her firm cheek a solid slap. “You are trouble.”

  Her gasp slipped into a moan as he traced her cleft until he found her opening, then dipped his fingers inside. He loved the way her inner walls clamped down to keep his fingers from withdrawing. How something so soft could grip so hard was a wonder to him, and he wanted more time to explore her body. He hadn’t gotten the chance last night and couldn’t take the time now. But soon he would. Very soon.

  He withdrew his fingers and fumbled around until he found her clit. Last night, he’d figured out how to tell when he touched the right spot, because her knees would go weak and he had to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her up. He caged her against the island, felt the trembles racing through her body. He circled her clit with his thumb, applied more pressure, and her body seized up, breath rushing out in a squeak.

  Triumph roared through him with a burst of pure testosterone. He needed inside her. Hard and fast and claiming and right fucking now.

  Reece tore open the condom, unzipped his pants, and sheathed himself in the rubber. He gripped her hips, found her entrance, and slammed home, closing his eyes at the exquisite pleasure of her body giving in to his. Shelby moaned and arched her back, pressed against his thrusts.

  Jesus. She took all of him, right to his base. Good thing she only gave him seven minutes, because he wasn’t going to last. He pounded into her, hard, fast, urgent, the only sounds slapping flesh and ragged breathing and the throaty little noises she made as she urged him on with her body.

  He was so lost in her, he nearly missed the footsteps outside the closet. Voices followed.

  “Where the hell is he?” Dylan asked.

  “It’s not like him to just get up and leave,” Alicia said, worry in her voice. “I hope everything is all right.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  Shit, Dylan and Alicia had stopped right in front of the closet. All they had to do was open the door and they’d get an eyeful of his ass pumping away.

  Reece froze and clamped a hand over Shelby’s mouth to keep her silent. He felt her lips curve into a smile before the warm pad of her tongue caressed his palm. She tightened her inner muscles around him, milking him, and he shook with the restraint it took to remain still. Adrenaline poured through his system and, impossibly, the thought of getting caught only hardened him more, to the point of pain.

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stay still.

  Even as his cell phone vibrated against his leg, he thrust into her again, the strokes short and fast. He kept his hand over her mouth because he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t make one of those sexy as hell sounds and give them away.

  With his free hand, he released his hold on her hip and reached between their bodies. He needed her to come. Now. His orgasm was clawing down his spine and was going to rip him in half if he didn’t finish soon. He found her clit, rubbed in tight, fast circles, and her body locked down. She shuddered through the climax, his hand muffling her moans.

  Outside the closet, Dylan said, “Reece, it’s Dylan. Where’d you go? Everything okay? Call me when you get this.”

  “No answer?” Alicia asked, and their voices faded as they finally moved away.

  Reece removed his hand from Shelby’s mouth, gripped her hips, and hammered into her as hard and deep as he could get until he found bliss in his own explosive release. He collapsed forward, resting his head on her back. Under his ear, her breath rushed in and out, and her heart thundered.

  Playing with fire.

  Yeah, he was, and Shelby was burning him alive.

  He groaned. “Your sister was right.”

  She laughed softly. “About what?”

  “You are a very bad influence.” He straightened and gave her ass one last smack before withdrawing from her heat and dealing with the condom. He put it back in the wrapper, then dropped the bundle in his pocket for later disposal. It wouldn’t do to have Irving James’s butler stumble across it when he retrieved everyone’s coats at the end of the night.

  Still breathing hard, Shelby turned to face him and smoothed down the skirt of her dress. “You need a bit of bad influence in your life, Skittles.” She stood on her toes and lightly brushed her lips over his before returning his ass smack with one of her own. “You’re too uptight without it.”

  He wanted to be annoyed. He even tried to conjure up some irritation with her, but all he managed was exasperated amusement. Even her candy-themed nicknames were starting to grow on him.

  Before he fully realized what he was doing, he cupped her upturned face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

  It wasn’t the kind of kiss she was used to from Reece. Wasn’t the usual crush of mouths, the demand of tongue, the war for superiority. It was soft. Gentle. Somehow even more intimate than the sex they’d just had. Her belly jittered with unwanted emotions too painfully sweet to name.

  Oh, this was trouble.

  If she knew anything, it was mistakes, and falling for Reece Wilde was the kind of mistake everyone walked away from broken.

  She drew away, but only by inches, and stared up into his eyes. In the dimness of the closet, they were little more than black pools, which was for the better. She didn’t know if she wanted to see his emotions.

  Reece tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and opened his mouth. Oh God. He was going to say something she both dreaded and desperately wanted to hear.

 
Someone pounded on the closet door.

  Reece jolted as if he’d been poked in the ass with a hot brand.

  “I know you’re in there,” Dylan said. “I lured Alicia away and she’s entertaining everyone with a story about our trip to Venice, so it’s safe to come out. If you’re dressed,” he added with amusement after a beat.

  Shelby giggled but stifled it behind her hand when Reece glared at her.

  He cleared his throat and hit the light switch. “Give us a minute.”

  “Take your time,” Dylan said, obviously enjoying the whole thing.

  Reece shut his eyes for a moment and sucked in a breath through his nose, letting it out slowly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think… “Are you embarrassed?”

  Color filled his cheeks and, okay, that was adorable. “You are! Big, bad, Mr. Gazillionaire is embarrassed. And blushing!”

  “I’m not fond of getting caught with my pants down.”

  She couldn’t help it—she pinched his butt when he turned to find their coats. He sent her his patented I am not amused glare and handed over her coat. Grinning, she swung it on and opened the door.

  “Hi, Dylan.”

  He tipped his head slightly in greeting and didn’t bother hiding his grin. “Shelby.” Then he gazed past her and burst out laughing. “You both look like you just had energetic closet sex.”

  “We did.”

  Reece growled. “Shelby…”

  She shrugged. “He already knows.”

  Dylan just laughed harder, until tears rolled down his cheeks. “Oh man,” he said finally, gasping for breath. “I never thought I’d see the day. I like you, Shelby. A lot. You’re good for him.”

  “I like you, too, Dylan.” And she did. He seemed like a nice guy, a little on the nerdy side and not nearly as stuffy as the rest of the dinner guests.

  Reece grumbled again and Dylan straightened, knuckling away his tears. “It’s okay, buddy. I remember what it was like to be a newlywed. But…you might want to beg off the rest of the night. You can’t go back in there looking like that or everyone will know. I’ll make all the proper excuses for you.”