The Wilde Side (7 page)

"I'm ready," she panted, and clamped her heels against the backs of his thighs, urging him to a faster rhythm.

He gave her what he'd promised, increasing the pace and riding her with a wild, fierce aggression. Capturing her lips with his, he kissed her, his mouth and tongue just as demanding and as insistent as the way he was claiming her body.

His thrusts grew stronger, deeper, harder, his hips pistoning powerfully as he buried himself in her, over and over, until her orgasm crested in a liquid rush of gratification. The pleasure was so intense, so all consuming, she wrenched her mouth from his and screamed, giving herself over to the sensation, and him, totally.

He was right there with her, tossing his head back with a low, feral growl, his hips grinding against hers as his own climax thundered through him. After one last shuddering thrust, he slumped against her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, seemingly trying to gather his equilibrium, which she completely understood because she was struggling to do the same.

Finally, he lifted his head and gazed down at her, the slow grin spreading across his face drowsy and full of male satisfaction. "That ... was ...
amazing
," he said huskily.

She smiled right back at him, enjoying the delicious weight of him on top of her, the fullness of him still inside her. "Ummm, I think
you're
amazing."

He kissed her softly, gently nuzzling her lips with his. "How about we're amazing together," he murmured.

She couldn't deny that they'd been extremely compatible sexually. She'd never been so in sync with a lover's body before or experienced the kind of ecstasy Scott had given her. "Okay, we were mutually amazing. I'll go for that."

He chuckled and moved off her, then the bed, totally comfortable in his own nudity as his eyes skimmed down her flushed and sated body like a physical caress. "I'll be right back."

Her gaze took in his splendid, toned backside as he disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. God, he was so gorgeous and sexy, he made her think impossible thoughts ... such as extending their affair beyond this one night.

She immediately tossed that notion right out of her head, knowing anything long term with this man would only complicate matters and possibly lead her down a path straight to heartache.

When he returned minutes later she was gathering up her discarded clothing from the floor, determined to leave before her emotions got any more tangled up in this brief fling. Despite looking for an unforgettable sexual encounter, she feared she'd gotten way more than she'd bargained for with Scott Wilde.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone curious, yet threaded with a deeper layer of caution.

She scooped up her skirt and slanted him a quick glance, trying her best to be sophisticated about the situation. "I just thought ... I wasn't planning on staying the night."

He tipped his head, gentle humor etching his expression. "You got a curfew?"

"Well, no." The man was too irresistible, and even before he started toward her, she could feel her guard and better common sense crumbling.

He stopped in front of her and trailed a finger from the pulse point in her throat, down to her nipple, and circled the beaded tip in a slow, lazy caress. "Good, because I'm not done with you yet."

Her breast swelled and tightened in response to his touch, his words causing a clenching ache between her thighs. The man didn't play fair. Still, she struggled to hold on to her reasoning and her sanity.

"I'm perfectly happy with quality, not quantity."

"In this case, I'm offering you both." Before she could formulate a protest, he took the clothes in her arms and tossed them aside once again. Then he pulled her into his embrace, aligning their hips so that she could feel the heat of his erection against her thigh.

She gasped, and he grinned wickedly. "What can I say, you inspire me. Do you have a problem with that?"

She really ought to go, but she couldn't resist him. He was so easy to be with, so fun and playful and affectionate, and it had been so long, if ever, since she'd experienced any of that with a man.

So, she gave up trying to fight what she wanted – what they both apparently desired – more time together.

"No, I don't have a problem with that," she said, before she could change her mind. "Not at all."

"Good answer." He kissed her, then pulled back and waggled his dark brows. "Wanna go skinny-dipping in the moonlight?"

The decadent suggestion was one she couldn't refuse, and this time, she didn't think twice or allow her conscience to intrude on her decision.

Tonight was for her, after all.

"I'd love to go skinny-dipping with you." She slid her hand into his, entwining their fingers. "Lead the way, Mr. Wilde."

*

Even before Scott opened his eyes the following morning, he instinctively knew that Ashley was gone. One glance at the vacant spot next to him on the bed, along with finding that the sheets were cool to the touch, confirmed his hunch. The only reminders that she'd even been in his bed were the tangled covers and the mingled scent of sex and her expensive perfume that still lingered on his pillow.

Then there was the morning wood he was sporting due to the provocative memories of what they'd done together that had been tumbling through his mind moments before he'd awakened. He had a raging hard-on to end all hard-ons, despite the numerous times he'd taken her last night – with no obvious relief in sight for him.

He rolled to his back, scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, and cursed vividly, and with no small amount of frustration and discontent. Sometime between two A.M. and dawn she'd slipped out of his house and his life without waking him, and he couldn't even say he was surprised. She'd been up front and honest with him from the moment he'd met her, and he'd known from the beginning that all she wanted from him was one night only. She'd fascinated him, and he'd agreed to be her birthday present and had done his damnedest to fulfill some pretty intense and erotic fantasies during their hours together.

Still, he'd hoped that she'd take a chance on the undeniable connection between them and stay, that they'd wake up together, share breakfast, and he'd be able to coax her to open up about herself – except she'd never given him that chance.

Just Ashley
was gone, and all he was left with were hot, sensual memories, a wealth of disappointment for the way things had ended, and regret for what might have been.

Chapter 5

"W
here's the estimate and proposal for the St. Claire Hotel project?" Scott asked as he came out of his office Monday midmorning. He stopped in front of his sister, who was also the executive secretary of Nolan and Sons, and waited impatiently at her desk for the paperwork he needed.

Mia hung up the phone after placing the imported tile order he'd given her for a new track of custom-built homes the company was working on and slanted him an equally impatient look. "I'm getting to it, Scott."

He glanced at his watch, his annoyance mounting. It was nearly twelve, and he needed the afternoon to go over the St. Claire proposal one last time to make sure the numbers were as accurate as possible before he submitted it for bid the following morning. "Well, get to it faster. I needed it an hour ago."

A dark, delicate brow arched over a blue eye, a familiar warning that he was pushing his luck with her. "You just gave it to me twenty minutes ago, along with half a dozen orders to fill. Susan took the day off, and the phones are going crazy, in case you haven't noticed."

"I didn't ask for excuses," he replied, just as two phone lines rang simultaneously.

Mia visibly inhaled a calming breath, put both calls on hold efficiently and politely, then returned her attention to him in that direct, candid way of hers. "I have a suggestion for you, Scott," she said way too sweetly. "Why don't you put on a skirt and play secretary, and then we can see if you're able to handle ten things at once like I'm trying to do at the moment?"

Any other day, he would have found his sister's sarcasm amusing. This morning he wasn't in a humorous mood and ignored her comment, no matter how merited her gibe was. "Just make the St. Claire proposal a priority and get it done," he said, and turned to head back into his office.

"How about you take this job and—"

Scott shut his door on the last of Mia's unflattering words, silently berating himself for being such an ass when she didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his irritable disposition. He owed her an apology, and she'd get one before the day was out – but he figured he'd wait until closing time since he wasn't entirely sure if he was done ruffling her feathers or not. And he wanted to grovel for forgiveness only once.

Thank God Mia had developed a strong, independent streak early on in life that made her rough and resistant when she needed to be. While she certainly had a softer, vulnerable side, she did her best to keep it buried beneath a daring and impetuous facade. She embraced the stubborn and spirited side to her personality, and she didn't take any crap from anyone – especially not from any of her older brothers. And because Scott knew she wouldn't wilt, cower, or resort to feminine tears when provoked, she'd made an easy target for him and his frustration this morning.

Sitting in his leather chair behind his desk, he reached for the specs on another upcoming restoration project they were interested in bidding on, knowing Mia's threat about quitting her job was an idle one. It wasn't the first time something or someone in the company had pissed her off, but they all knew that she was loyal and true to the family business, as were he and Alex.

Joel was the only one who hadn't opted to follow in their father's footsteps, which hadn't surprised anyone. He'd always been the black sheep of the family and had never been one to conform to anyone's rules or expectations but his own. Being in construction wasn't something that appealed to Joel, whereas the excitement and risk of being a security specialist did.

The consistent ringing of the phones in the outer offices managed to instigate a niggle of guilt for his earlier behavior with Mia. Mondays were always busy and hectic, even when their receptionist, Susan, was there to field calls for his sister and help with the influx of paperwork. But compounding today's increased insanity and workload was Scott's driving ambition to win the St. Claire Hotel bid that would make Nolan and Sons a company to reckon with in the tile restoration industry. Add a liberal dose of the tension and indignation that had been riding him hard since Ashley had disappeared on him, and it was no wonder he was so on edge and snapping over the littlest things, which was so unlike his normally levelheaded, pragmatic personality.

Despite spending all day Sunday telling himself that Ashley had never promised him anything more than one night together, he couldn't stop thinking about her, to the point that he was beginning to feel obsessed with something he couldn't have. She overwhelmed his thoughts and consumed his mind with questions he had no answers for ... such as who she really was and why she was so adamant that they couldn't see each other again when he'd glimpsed the longing in her eyes that contradicted her attempt at keeping herself emotionally detached from him.

The situation with Ashley held familiar nuances of what he'd gone through with Elaine, and that, too, was something that kept filtering through his mind. His affair with Elaine had been intense from the beginning, with her pursuing him in a way he'd found extremely exciting. But even as weeks had passed into months, she'd managed to keep their encounters low-key and clandestine, despite his many attempts to take their relationship to the next level.

She'd always had an excuse as to why she wasn't ready to meet his family or why she never invited him over to her place – because her roommate didn't like overnight guests, she'd said. She'd also insisted that he call her on her cell phone only, and she'd always been on some kind of business trip that made getting together difficult. And when they had seen each other, it was always on her terms and schedule.

As much as he'd wanted to trust Elaine, his gut had told him that something wasn't right. There was too much about Elaine that didn't add up, along with her lifestyle that she'd kept extremely private. Yet whenever he'd pressured her for answers, she'd evade his questions and tell him he was being paranoid. Inevitably, they'd end up in a huge argument that she'd soothe over with hot, make-up sex.

He should have listened to his instincts, because they'd been accurate all along. He'd discovered, quite by accident, that Elaine was a married woman whose husband was a high-powered attorney at a Chicago firm that could have crushed him and his family's business into dust had he found out about his wife's affair. Luckily for him, Elaine hadn't been anxious to enlighten her wealthy, prominent husband of the boy toy she'd been keeping on the side, a diversion from her less-than-happy marriage, he'd discovered later.

Elaine's deceit, and his own gullibility, had shaken him up. He'd felt used and like a fool, and he'd vowed that there would be complete honesty between him and the next woman he allowed himself to get seriously involved with.

And then along came Ashley, who intrigued and fascinated him on so many levels, but also seemed too elusive for his peace of mind. He'd hoped that things would have ended differently between them, that they'd have the opportunity to spend the next morning together, or that she'd at least agree to see him again so he could get to know her better.

But the disappointing fact remained that she was gone and he had no way of contacting her. Her disappearing act was probably for the best because there was no telling what secrets she was hiding. Or so he kept trying to convince himself.

Dragging both hands through his hair, he released a low growl of frustration. He damn well had better get his head on straight, and quick, so he didn't end up blowing the company's chances at winning the St. Claire contract because he was too distracted by thoughts of a woman he'd never see again. He needed to keep his focus on the things he could control, and that was bids, estimates, tile orders, and budgets.

A brisk knock sounded against his closed door before it opened and his brother, Alex, stepped into his office, a wry grin on his face and a few papers in his hand. "Mia told me to enter at my own risk. Is it safe to come in here?"

"Yeah, it's safe." Alex had been out all morning, doing PR for the company and soliciting bids for new projects, and Scott was grateful for the interruption from his troubling thoughts. "What's up?"

Alex sauntered up to his desk and handed him the paperwork he'd just badgered his sister to complete for him. "Mia said I'd be better off bringing you the typed proposal for the St. Claire project, instead of her, because she was likely to shove it—"

Wincing, Scott held up a hand, cutting his brother off before he could relay his sister's crude message. "Spare me the details, please."

Alex chuckled, then eyed Scott critically. "According to Mia, you've been a bear since the moment you walked into the office. What's up with that? I would have thought you'd be in a great mood this morning, considering you got lucky this weekend with that blond babe at the bar." Alex took another look at Scott's surly expression, then frowned. "You did get lucky with her, right?"

Scott sank back in his chair and sighed. "Yes, we spent the night together."

A broad smile eased up the corners of Alex's mouth. "You da man, Scotty," he teased as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and withdrew some large bills. "And since you scored where others had failed, looks like you win the bet, and a hundred bucks."

Scott pushed away the offensive cash. As stupid as it might seem, he didn't want anything to cheapen what he'd shared with Ashley – especially a frivolous bet. "I don't want your money, or Joel's."

Alex looked initially startled by Scott's growling comment. Realizing this wasn't a joking matter, he tucked the bills back into his wallet before settling into the chair in front of Scott's desk. "I'm assuming the bet turned into something more serious between the two of you?"

A bout of dry, cynical laughter escaped Scott. "It could have, except when I woke up Sunday morning she was gone, and all I know about her is that her first name is Ashley. And I can't even be sure that's her
real
name or if it's one she assumed for the night. But bottom line, she didn't leave me with any way to contact her."

"Awww hell, Scott," Alex said in genuine male commiseration. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, equally determined to shake off the funk that had him in its grip, once and for all. "It's done and over with, and it was quite a night to remember. Let's leave it at that."

Standing, Scott picked up the St. Claire proposal and walked over to the drafting table against the far wall, where the set of plans for the hotel renovation were spread open. Then he glanced back at his brother. "Do you have about fifteen minutes to go over the St. Claire estimate with me one last time?"

"We've been over the entire proposal at least two dozen different times," Alex said, his tone exasperated. "And each time you swear it's the last. The numbers are as tight as possible, and we've cut every conceivable corner we can without taking the risk of losing money on the job."

The risk of losing money on the job
. His brother's chosen words, intentional or not, prompted unpleasant memories of how he'd nearly caused his father, Nolan Wilde, to lose the business he'd started as piecemeal and had gradually built into a solid, reputable company to pass on to his sons – all because Scott had accidentally underbid a multimillion-dollar project that had cost the company a bundle to recoup.

Pushing the past aside, Scott focused on the present. "You know how important getting this job is to the growth of the company."

"So you keep saying," Alex replied oh-so-casually.

Scott stiffened defensively. "What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Scott," Alex said as he stood up, came up beside him, and waved a hand over the hotel restoration plans on the drafting table. "You know as well as I do that there are personal reasons behind why you want this project so badly. And only about forty percent of those reasons have anything to do with the actual growth of the company. The other sixty percent is because you feel you have to make up for what happened with the Wrigley Building project."

The object of his biggest failure was now out in the open, and Scott hated the punch-in-the-gut feeling he still experienced whenever someone brought up that past mistake. It was like a wound that wouldn't heal – at least not until he succeeded in replacing that financial disaster with a higher achievement.

He'd spent the past five years busting his ass to make amends for that costly mistake, taking on jobs that made more than enough money to pay back the loan his father had been forced to take out to save the company from bankruptcy. Now, the St. Claire Hotel project was exactly what he needed to prove to his father that he could handle the business and make it prosper.

Crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to maintain a calm outer composure, Scott pinned his brother with a direct look. "Maybe this
is
personal," he admitted.

Alex shook his head. "Shit happens, even to the best of us. You might hold yourself responsible for what happened with the Wrigley project, but Dad doesn't. He never has, or he never would have put you in charge of the company. There were certain aspects of that job that cost the company money that no one could have anticipated beforehand. Not even you."

Alex was two years younger than Scott, and had always seemed to understand him the best. No, his father had never made him feel accountable for the job coming in short, but Scott couldn't get rid of the driving need to atone for his miscalculation on the Wrigley project ... and make his father proud of his accomplishments at the same time.