16. Wilder
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
wilder
Bells were ringing
At the end of time
The sky was on fire
But you were mine
S itting against Evangeline’s front door, I wage a mental war on the doubts and fears assailing me. Do I regret what I said to her? Not even a little bit. I want her—want us —more than anything. More than the drugs my body and brain still crave. More than success or recognition or acclaim. I’d burn everything down for her. Give up everything I think I want and need.
And therein lies my greatest fear: the complete lack of control I have over my feelings for her. I don’t know how to stop needing her. Craving her. Suffering when we’re apart.
At eleven years old, she stole pieces of my soul. The best pieces. I’m not whole without them, without her, and I never will be.
Three years ago, I thought I could learn to live and thrive and make music without her. And I tried. God, I fucking tried. But it wasn’t until I gave up and started writing down all my memories of her that my music came back.
Every damn song on the new album is about her in one way or another. Even with a chasm between us, she shaped every note and word.
Now, sitting here in the shadows on her small porch, my skin twitchy from nerves and the aftershocks of withdrawals, I finally admit to myself a truth I’ve known all along.
I love her.
I’ve loved her all my life and have been in love with her since I was seventeen.
The epiphany ricochets, punching me with the same truth upside down. There’s something wrong with my love. Wrong with me.
My love has hurt her.
Will it be different this time? Or will I hurt her again?
My phone lights up with a text, pulling me from my bleak thoughts. It’s Kendra again. I don’t read it. I’m sure it’s more of the same—anger, denial, threats. She’s called me eight times and sent a dozen messages in response to the text I sent her on the way to the show.
I’ll have to deal with her at some point. Do the right thing and have a face-to-face conversation. I owe her that much. I should probably be worried about her threats, too, but the freedom I feel right now drowns out potential consequences. If anything comes of it… that’s what lawyers and PR teams are for.
Headlights momentarily blind me as a car pulls into the narrow, weed-choked driveway beside her bungalow. My pulse jumps. I stand fast, gritting my teeth at a punishing wave of dizziness, then quickly turn off my phone and tuck it in my back pocket.
As Evangeline exits the car and walks toward me, my various physical discomforts fade. Background noise. My eyes suck in her angles and curves, her colors and textures. Neon pink fishnet tights and calf-high boots. An electric blue halter dress that would be sleazy on anyone else but on her looks edgy and cute. The crown of braids on her head a wispy mess after the high-energy show.
She steps up to me, chin lifted and lips lightly pursed. I can’t read the look in her mismatched eyes.
My heartbeats are bruising.
I clear my throat, bracing myself. “Regrets already?”
She hesitates. “No. I just didn’t expect you so soon.” She glances down at herself. “I was hoping to shower before you got here.”
Tension drains from me so swiftly I almost sag against the front door. “I could use a shower, too.”
“Is that so?” She fights a smile, her gaze flitting down my body. My cock jerks in my pants, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from groaning.
She adds, “I need to eat, too.”
I nod quickly. “Shower, food. What else? How do you wind down after a show these days?”
She shrugs. “A book. Tea. Sometimes a movie or a soak in the hot tub. I usually eat and pass out, though.”
I grin. “Same as always, then.”
Her soft laugh is silk on my raw skin. “Pretty much. Right this second, though, all I want is for you to move so I can open my front door.”
I smirk and make space for her, stooping to grab my backpack.
“Think you’re spending the night, huh?” she asks cheekily.
I shrug, feigning indifference when there’s nothing I want more. “I don’t have to, but I’m staying away from the house for a few days. Kendra’s moving out.”
Her eyes narrow. “Wait—when did you break up with her?”
I wince. “Uh… today.”
To my surprise, she laughs and rises to her toes to give me a soft kiss. “You can stay.”
This must be what winning the lottery feels like. My heart can’t decide if it wants to stop or race.
As soon as she turns toward the door, I step into her. My chest against her shoulders, my erection above the swell of her ass. Keys rattle as she misses the lock.
“I’m gross, Wilder. No touching until I shower.”
“Not happening.”
Lowering my face to her hair, still damp from sweat, I suck in her scent. Then I bend further, my mouth finding the soft, warm skin beneath her ear. I gather her essence in my nose, on my tongue. Salt and musk and the natural fragrance of her skin that comforts me as much as it drives me wild.
“You smell and taste like heaven. Someday I’m going to eat you out the second you step offstage.”
She chokes. “That’s nasty.”
Sliding my free hand around her hip and under her dress, I cup her between the legs. Heat bathes my palm. She shivers, her thighs clenching.
“You want me nasty,” I whisper against her ear. “Don’t you?”
Her breathing speeds up. “Maybe.”
“Open the door,” I say hoarsely. “I’ll give you a sixty-second head start. Shower or bed—your choice. But when a minute is up, my mouth is devouring this pussy.”
She squeaks and finally gets the door unlocked, then runs across the house to her bedroom, flipping on lights as she goes. I lock the door behind me, smiling to myself when I hear the shower turn on. I knew it would. Despite her body’s response to my suggestion, she’s not mentally ready for my filthy appetite.
I don’t even know if I’m ready for it. The shit I want to do and say to her… it shocks even me. No woman has ever incited such unhinged sexual need in me. With Evangeline, all my self-control is stripped away. For better or worse, I’m fully myself with her.
When I make it to the bathroom doorway and see her already in the shower, suds and water dripping over her head and down her gorgeous body, I jerk to a stop and squeeze the head of my dick so I don’t fucking erupt.
I’d almost forgotten how much Oxy dulls physical sensation. I didn’t feel high the first time we had sex, but the drugs were still in my system. If she’s hoping for a marathon like last time, she’s going to be disappointed.
I’ll make it up to her.
Sparkling eyes rise to my face. “Problem?”
I exhale a laugh. “Nope. It’s just been six weeks.”
Those eyes widen. “You haven’t even… you know?”
“Rubbed one out imagining your cunt spasming around me?”
She rolls her eyes even as her cheeks flush scarlet at my crude words. “Obviously.”
“Oh, I definitely have.” Keeping a firm hold on myself, I allow my gaze to wander down her body. My eyes linger on her pink nipples and the trimmed, fair hair between her legs. Breath shudders out of me as I drag my gaze back up. “Memory doesn’t compare to the real thing, though.”
She smiles tentatively. “Aren’t you coming in?”
I shake my head. “Changed my mind.”
Taking two steps into the bathroom, I lower to my knees on a thick bathmat. The flash of disappointment in her eyes shifts to curiosity.
“What are you doing?”
I point at my mouth. “Waiting to be fed.”
Her blush spreads down her chest as her eyes roam over my face. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly. Finish up and get out here before I starve.”
I’ve never seen anyone wash so fast; she’s out of the shower less than a minute later. To my surprise, she doesn’t bother reaching for a towel before walking right up to me. Her wet hands sink into my hair, guiding my face upward. She bends down until her lips hover over mine, hair dripping all over my face.
“Time to eat, Wilder.”
I blink in surprise. Then I laugh in sheer joy.
She’s perfect.
So fucking perfect.
My eyes on hers, I back her up until her ass hits the counter. I lick a line up her stomach, making her spasm before yanking one long leg over my shoulder and spreading her open for me.
“Goddamn,” I whisper as I drag my index finger lightly around her silky, rose-colored center. “So pretty.”
I blow on her and she jerks.
“Quit teasing.”
Looking up, I take in her heaving breasts and quivering stomach. Her parted lips and dilated eyes. Water droplets slide down her body. Drip onto the floor and me. She shivers, goosebumps blooming all over.
“Cold?”
She nods.
I spread her with my fingers and press a kiss to her clit. Her legs shake. “Lean into it. Feel that chill as you feel this.” I lick her heavy and deep. Her breathy moan makes me feel like a starving god whose chains have broken.
I devour my feast.
It doesn’t take long for her to fall apart. She cries out softly, pulsing against my mouth.
“More,” I demand.
I push two fingers inside her. She flutters around me, tight and scalding. I give her no quarter, sucking and flicking her clit with my tongue as I curl my fingers and pulse them. My other hand dives around her thigh and up. I hook my pinky inside her and apply counter tension to my still-moving fingers, then press my index finger to her asshole and massage the tense surface.
She jerks. “Wilder!”
My mouth is too full to respond, but I lift my eyes to her startled face. It takes a few seconds, but with a trembling breath, she nods.
Fuck yes.
She’s so wet, it takes barely any pressure for my finger to sink into her ass. Her beautiful voice fills the steamy room as I work. Gasps and cries and pleas. My balls tighten in warning but I hardly notice.
She whimpers my name as she unravels, her pussy and ass clamping hard on my fingers. It’s too much sensory perfection—I groan against her as my cock jumps and I nut in my pants like a preteen.