So what to read now?
I f you love a steamy and hilarious roommates-to-lovers rom com about a grumpy med school reject and the one-night-stand who turns out to be her brother’s best friend and her new roommate, Wild Thing is for you.
Excerpt:
Mason
The beautiful stranger drops onto all-fours and mindlessly shoves an arm under the motel room dresser, frantically searching around.
“…And…and everybody needs to blow off steam now and then. It’s perfectly healthy. And totally normal and…and natural and good for you,” I hear her wheeze out.
I roll onto my side in the twisted sheets and yawn contentedly. “Yeah…”
“As a matter of fact, it’s scientifically proven. It’s backed up by studies. Multiple studies. Multiple studies published in multiple medical journals from multiple countries all around the world.”
Her butt jiggles as she keeps digging around. Nice.
“Even some religions agree. Sex is good for your…your…your spiritual thingy . You know what I mean.”
I ease up onto one elbow and prop my chin on my fist, mesmerized by the show she’s putting on.“Uh-huh…”
When she pushes her arm deeper under the dresser, her spine arches. That only makes her bare, round backside stick up deliciously in the air.
It’s distracting.
She rambles away, her voice high and anxious and defensive as she continues to justify what we did last night. All night. “Plus, we’re both consenting adults a-and—”
She suddenly seems to sense me leering at her in all her naked glory. She turns her scowling face toward me.
“You’re not even listening!” she alleges with a growl.
“Of course I’m listening,” I shoot back, a lazy smile sprawled across my face.
She huffs in annoyance. “And you’re judging me. Stop judging me. You needed ‘that’ as much as I did.”
“Who said I’m judging you?”
“Your face,” she hisses accusingly. “That sneaky, little, judgy pretty boy smirk you’re wearing.” A river of silky black hair tumbles over her stabby blue-eyed glare.
Suppressing a sound of amusement, I flop onto my back and drag a slow palm down my sweaty chest. “What smirk?” I feel said smirk deepen.
She waves her free arm in my general direction.“ That smirk!” With all the frantic arm-waving, she loses her balance. She barely catches herself before face-planting on the dirty rug.
This woman is entertaining. Although I have a sneaking suspicion she’s not trying to be.
And why is this display of hot-mess-ery turning me on? I’m rock hard again.
I have issues. Clearly.
My palm trails over my heavy length, willing it to simmer down. I nod my chin toward where she’s crawling around on the floor. “What the hell are you looking for down there anyway?”
With a huff, the woman finally emerges from under the dresser with her panties balled up in her fist. Standing, she hops into her underwear and yanks the pink and white tiger-striped fabric past her dainty ankles, one tattooed and the other donning a beaded ankle bracelet. Her heavy tits and gorgeous hips jiggle slightly as she shimmies the fabric up her long legs. Her body is spectacular.
And like a creeper, I can’t look away.
She’s not amused.
She brushes grit off her kneecaps and shoots me a scowl. From the fire in that scowl, I’m guessing that a ‘round four’ is not on the menu for us this morning.
Bummer.
My head is still light and foggy from rounds one, two and three. Meanwhile, she’s rushing around like she’s urgently got somewhere to be. At five in the morning.
In fact, with each second that ticks by, it’s becoming increasingly clear that this woman regrets ever coming back to this motel room with me in the first place.
Well, that sucks.
I know for a fact that my ‘performance’ earlier definitely wasn’t the problem. Mere minutes ago, I had Ms. Tough Girl gripping the headboard and howling up at the cobwebby light fixture like a wolf under the full moon.
So I won’t take it personally that she doesn’t want to stick around. Because this place is a dump. God, it smells awful in here. And what's that brown stain on the pillowcase?
I bolt upright on the scratchy motel sheets and swing my legs over the side of the creaky bed.
“Just so you know, I don't do one-night stands,” she informs me. “I’m not that kind of person. I just…I…yesterday, I just…” She gives up with a heavy sigh.
I get up and approach her like you’d approach a wounded animal. Slowly. Cautiously. “You know what? I get it.I'm not that kind of person, either. I haven't had a one-night stand since...since ever.”
“ Never… ?” she asks timidly, all that spunk of hers momentarily subdued.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I give her an embarrassed half-smile. “Never,” I confirm. “I’ve never had a one-night stand. I've always been a relationship kind of guy.”
Our eyes hold.
Something inside her loosens and she seems slightly relieved to discover that she didn’t just spend the night with some douchebag who’s going around, randomly slingin’ it all over the state of Iowa.
Ending up in a dirty roadside motel like this with a complete stranger was definitely never part of my five-year plan.
Look, I'm Mason Westbrook. I-always-have-a-plan should be my middle name.
I skipped so many grades in school that they named a fast track for child geniuses after me. The Westbrook Track, they call it now. I zoomed through college, managing to fit right in despite being years younger than my peers. Then, as planned since my fifth birthday, I finished med school, got my doctorate, and moved back home to be near my family and humbly serve my community.
All of that matched the grand outline for my life precisely.
But sometime when I wasn’t looking, my plan stalled out. I’d expected to be married by now. To be moving up in my career at the medical clinic. To be building my future in Honey Hill.
I didn’t even notice when my life veered off-track. All I know is, I woke up a few weeks ago and had to admit to myself that none of it was working anymore.
My ex-boss was a prick who made me have to jump through hoops just to get a few days off for my cousin's wedding. My on-and-off relationship morphed into a toxic loop with a woman who didn't appreciate me. I needed a change. So for once in my life, I went off-script.
And now, here I am, in a seedy motel room with a random naked stranger who's in the middle of a wheezing panic attack.
All righty, then . Looks like this new life path of mine is unfolding swimmingly.
My hands fall to her hips, squeezing gently. “I don't know what's going on in your life. And you don't know what's going on in mine. But the good news is, after we walk out that door, we never have to see each other again. Right?”
She nods. “Right.”
Famous last words…