Chapter 1
Chapter One
Wilder
PRESENT DAY
W hat’s that condition where you’re secretly obsessed with your twin’s ex-girlfriend?
Because whatever that is, I have that.
But Delilah Fanning would never ever be interested in me.
For starters, she can hardly stand me.
By the tongue-lashing she just gave me, she wouldn’t bat an eye if I got run over by a tractor attached to a manure spreader.
In fact, she’d be driving it.
Not that she hates me, per se, but she’s definitely not a fan of my behavior.
Like right now…
“Wilder, I swear to God…” She pinches the bridge of her nose, leaning in closer so I can hear her over the loud music. The smell of her perfume—a mix of something sweet and floral—invades my senses.
People stand at the bar all around us, but when it’s just me and her, they fade away.
“Pace yourself because if you throw up in my brand-new truck, I’ll strip you naked and hogtie your balls until they fall off.”
Jesus Christ.
My balls ache at the visual.
“Delly, baby …” I drawl. Her old nickname slips from my lips, but if she notices, she doesn’t show it. “If you wanna get me naked, just ask.”
“I’ve seen it all…I’m good,” she deadpans, sliding a glass of ice water across the bar toward me.
“’Cuse me? You been spyin’?” I waggle my brows and she rolls her eyes.
“Against my will,” she clarifies, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “You tend to strip when you’re drunk, and I’ve seen you drunk more times than I can count. So I’d be very careful the next time you show me your pierced dick because it might be the last.”
A smug grin flashes across my face. “You’ve looked at my piercings, huh? You want a private viewin’?” I wink and then take a drink of the water to appease her when she scowls.
The three shots I took before this are barely affecting me.
Kinda.
“Two weeks ago, you streaked through the ranch at four in the mornin’ and then passed out in front of The Lodge. I had to drag your naked ass back to my truck and then lift you up into the seat. So yeah…I saw your piercings…up close and too personal.”
“What about this one?” I flick out my tongue, showing off the piercing there.
“Mm-hmm. Also not impressive.” She steals my water and drinks it as if she’s bored.
“Wait, wait, wait…” I wave out my hands. “Are you callin’ my piercings not impressive?”
Her gaze lowers to my groin before meeting my stare with an evil smirk, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek. “I’m sayin’ the whole package ain’t that impressive.”
My jaw drops at her bald-faced lie.
“Now I know you’re full of shit. Women don’t say they’re Wild for Wilder for nothin’.”
“Don’t make me throw up.” She pretends to gag.
I steal back the glass of water and chug the rest. It’s the weekend before Thanksgiving and the Twisted Bull is packed with college-aged girls in mostly cropped tops and jean skirts. Most of the guys are in jeans, boots, and Stetson hats, playing the cowboy fantasy even though they’ve never worked on a ranch a day in their lives.
But it’s why Delilah’s glued to my hip because she’s on babysitting my ass duty—her words, not mine. Waylon put her up to it. Anytime he can’t come out, which has been more and more ever since he started dating Delilah’s little sister, he puts her in charge of me.
I should be offended, considering I’m thirty-three years old, but I’d never drink and drive, so it’s a good idea to have a DD. And well, there’s been a few instances of fighting, so now anytime I go out, someone comes with me to make sure I get home safe. And stay out of jail.
I’m not even that drunk tonight, but considering how fucked up I got two weekends ago, it’s best I take it easy. Especially since I don’t even remember that night she’s talking about.
And I don’t want to see the look of disappointment on her face again.
Leaning in closer to her ear, I feel her shiver against me. “I’m ready to go if you are.”
Her brows furrow as she cocks her head. “It’s only midnight.”
I shrug, not really in the mood to drink anymore.
This is when I should admit the new meds I started yesterday aren’t supposed to be mixed with alcohol. Eight months ago, I started going to therapy and stopped having sex and drinking alcohol to get clean and focus on my mental health.
But then three months ago, I started drinking again when the pain got to be too much. It was either drink or cut, so I chose the lesser of two evils.
But I’m still abstinent, so that has to count for something, right?
The last woman I slept with was Jen—my on-again, off-again fling—who I haven’t seen in almost a year. She caught me flirting with her friend, Bethany, who I didn’t know was her friend at the time, and stormed off. She knew we weren’t exclusive or serious and yet she acted like we were.
“I need an alcohol detox,” I admit. “At least for a month.”
That’s how long my psychiatrist told me it’d take for the antidepressants to start working.
So I get to be sober and miserable until then.
I haven’t told anyone that I’m trying them, not because I’m ashamed, but I don’t want to hear their praises or how proud of me they are—at least not until I deserve to. Therapy has been great, and I consistently attend my appointments, but the sadness still tempts me to self-medicate with cutting and alcohol. When he suggested trying a low dose for the “seasonal depression” time of year, I agreed. At this point, I have nothing to lose but myself.
The last thing I want to continue being is a burden on my brother, who’s always been there for me. He’s happy for the first time in years, and I don’t want to take that away from him.
Or anyone else.
“A whole month?” Delilah feigns shock, smacking a hand to her chest. “I’ll be so bored not carryin’ your drunken ass upstairs to your room. Whatever shall I do with all that free time?”
“Just admit you like hangin’ out with me.” I flash her a lopsided grin, but she doesn’t fall for it.
“I might get a life of my own if I’m not always in charge of yours,” she retorts.
And there it is.
Although her tone’s teasing, there’s truth to it.
The guilt wraps around my throat until it cuts off my windpipe, and I choke on it.
Not because she’s wrong, but because Delilah has spent half her life taking care of people, and I hate that she’s been liable for me for the past year. Even though I enjoy spending time with her, it’s not the same if she feels obligated.
Before I stopped drinking the first time, she tagged along for a few months, and then when I started drinking again, she continued without complaint.
Though I’m not sure why.
She doesn’t owe me anything.
But still, she took on the responsibility, and I should relieve her of that.
“Tonight’s the last time you’ll have to babysit me, I promise.”
She arches a brow, genuinely curious. “You’re serious?”
I nod, pulling out my wallet so I can pay the tab.
“At least until Vegas,” I clarify jokingly. “Everyone else will be drinkin’, so it’ll be hard not to.”
Landen’s wife, Ellie, is competing at the National Finals Rodeo in the barrel racing competition in less than three weeks. My entire family is going for a few days, including Delilah, her sister, and their mom.
“But once we’re back, I’ll be sober, so you never have to take care of me again.”
I wave to the bartender and grab her attention. “Ready for my tab, Rainy.”
“So early?” she quips.
“Yep, gotta get home to the wife and kids.”
Delilah nearly chokes on her saliva. “Now I know you’re wasted when you make up a whole fake family.”
I snort. “Oh, c’mon…couldn’t you hear me sayin’ that in twenty years?”
“ Twenty ? It’s gonna take two more decades for you to settle down, huh?”
“Nah, I’ll probably be single until the day I die.” I shrug dismissively.
Who’s going to want to take on my baggage anyway? I wouldn’t want to give that to anyone. And according to everyone, I can hardly take care of myself, so what business do I have trying to take care of someone else?
“And why’s that, Wilder?” She leans an elbow on the bar, but then some drunk guy crashes into her, spilling his beer on her.
“Oh my God,” Delilah grits between her teeth, lifting her arms when the liquid falls down her low-cut top.
People around us spread out when his beer continues spilling on the floor.
“Hey, asshole,” I shout, shoving him back since he has no concept of personal space. “Watch where you’re goin’!”
“Wilder, stop,” Delilah demands. “It was an accident.”
Those are the last words I hear before the guy swings at me, knocking me square in the jaw.
That was no accident. Motherfucker .
With stars in my eyes, I shove my fist in his gut and he falls to his ass.
“Wilder!” Delilah grabs my arm, yanking me back.
“He hit me first!” I defend, rubbing over the spot he nailed me.
Someone helps the guy back to his feet and then he points a finger in my face, screaming at me. “Let’s finish this outside, ya pussy. Now!”
“Pfft…” I bark out an amused laugh. “Like you know what a pussy looks like.”
He cocks his brow, smirking like a smug son of a bitch. “I’m lookin’ at one now.”
Before I can deck him a second time, Delilah stands between us, and when I try moving her to the side, she jerks her elbow back into my gut.
“Shut the fuck up and get out of his face before I knee you in the dick,” she shouts at him.
My brows pop up at her defending me. It wouldn’t be the first time, but I haven’t seen her this pissed in a hot minute.
“Got your little girlfriend to fight your battles for ya, huh?” He glares at me over her head. “How cute.”
I should be furious at the way he’s taunting me, but I can’t help smiling at the way he called her my girlfriend .
Pfft . I fucking wish.
“She is cute, ain’t she?” I roll my tongue piercing and lick my lips. “You should see how cute she looks when she’s on her knees stuffed with my co?—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” Delilah shoots me a murderous glare over her shoulder, but I notice the blush covering her cheeks that wasn’t there earlier.
“Why not, baby doll?” I wink, crossing my arms.
She hates when I call her that, which is why I do it. I usually get some kind of reaction, but tonight she doesn’t take the bait.
“Time to go,” she tells me before facing the other guy. “Call me cute again and I’ll jam my knee in your balls so hard, you’ll choke from spitin’ ’em out.”
“Trust me, man. She’ll do it,” I say, stifling a chuckle when the guy finally gets the hint and walks away with his buddy.
“Pay your damn tab and meet me outside,” Delilah orders, then walks toward the exit.
Yep, she’s pissed.
I sign the receipt and give Rainy a big tip for dealing with my shit.
“You can’t seriously be mad at me for self-defense?” I say once I open the passenger door of her truck. “That asshole hit me first. Granted I pushed him, but his drunk ass spilled beer on you! I was being chivalrous and standin’ up for you. That’s gotta at least earn me some brownie points.”
Delilah doesn’t respond or move. Her chest rapidly rises and falls as she white-knuckle-grips the steering wheel and stares out the windshield.
I wait for the inevitable scolding she’s about to unleash on me.
“Del—” I whisper, reaching out to her. Neither of us has our seat belts on, so I inch closer, hoping it’s enough to soften her. “I’m sorry for ruinin’ your night. I meant what I said earlier. This is the last time. I’m freeing you of babysittin’ me. I won’t even drink in Vegas and will be your DD for once.”
We won’t be driving, but I’ll be in charge of making sure she gets back to her room safely.
She continues ignoring my presence and words, making me feel even worse.
“I fucked up. How can I make it up to you? Please…I’ll do anythin’.” I grab her elbow that’s as stiff as her fist.
Her lips twitch, but she remains silent.
“You want me to embarrass myself to prove how sorry I am? I’ll streak down Main Street while shouting ‘I have a teeny weeny’ and will probably get my naked ass arrested, but for you, I’d do it.” When she doesn’t budge, I continue, “Do you wanna tie me up to the bumper so you can drag me all the way to the ranch? Knowin’ how you drive, I’ll probably die, but if that’s what it takes to prove how badly I feel…I’ll let ya do it.”
I chuckle at the imagery of her hogtying my ankles and going eighty down the ranch’s gravel road. She’d purposely fly over the speed bumps, too.
But still, nothing .
“Okay, fine. You wanna shoot me? Hell, I’ll load the gun for ya. Just don’t aim at the jewels, okay? Maybe the shoulder so I can still ride but not have to lift hay bales. Leave that bitch work to Waylon.” I snort at the thought of him complaining and telling me I could still use my other arm.
“Delilah?” I brush a hand down her arm and it’s as if my touch wakes her from a trance because she snaps her head toward me. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
Without a word, she yanks me toward her until our mouths collide.
I’m in so much shock, I freeze.
When her tongue slides between my lips, my brain finally catches up, and I sink into her.
What the hell is happening?
Fuck if I know, but I go along with it.
I’ve imagined kissing her for years—not exactly under these circumstances—but I’m not complaining.
Cupping her face, I groan and pull her closer. A mix of tequila and strawberries from her margarita floods my senses. She only had a couple of drinks before switching to Diet Coke, but I can still taste the sweetness on her tongue.
Delilah climbs over the center console without breaking contact and then straddles my thighs. It’s a snug fit with her on top of me, but I quickly lower the seat back so her head doesn’t smack the roof of the truck.
As she rocks against me, I dig my fingers into her hips and move her body faster over my erection.
Fingers weave through my hair as she grinds on me harder. When her tongue teases my piercing, I moan at how good it feels to have her like this.
I almost laugh at the irony of how less than twenty minutes ago she claimed my piercings and whole package weren’t that impressive, but now she’s in my lap, edging both of us.
My head can hardly keep up as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest because I’ve never felt anything like this.
This urgency.
This craving that only Delilah can satisfy.
This feeling of relief that’s only ever been fulfilled from cutting—something I haven’t done in years because of her—but you never forget the relief when the pain finally vanishes. It’s a high that’s too easy to get addicted to.
And now that I’ve discovered an alternate way to get that feeling, I’m never letting it go.
When she releases a throaty whimper, I nearly lose control. Kissing her isn’t enough. I need to touch her.
My fingers brush the hem of her shirt, feeling the softness of her skin against my calluses as I explore her body. I slide a palm underneath her bra and glide my thumb over her peaked nipple.
Her head falls back when she gasps at the sensation. I kiss down her jawline, sucking on her neck and massaging her breast.
“Fuck, Delilah…” Groaning out her name, I lick over her pulse point and feel how fast her heart’s beating.
“Touch me…” she begs, clinging tighter around my shoulders. “Lower.”
I’ve never heard her voice so raspy, and I’ve never wanted to obey as urgently as I do now that I have.
My free hand pops the button of her jeans and then I lower the zipper until I feel the fabric of her panties. When I rub over her clit, she releases a needy moan, and I capture her lips again.
She fists my shirt as I tease her, moving from fast and hard to soft and slow.
“Wilder, more…I need?—”
“Whaddya need, darlin’?” I prompt when she stops abruptly. “Tell me.”
“Inside me…please.”
Her desperate plea makes my cock so hard, I consider releasing myself just to relieve the ache.
“Lift slightly,” I tell her.
She rises so I can slide my hand lower between her thighs. I glide a finger through her wet slit and when I find her opening, I sink a digit inside her.
“Oh my God,” she breathes out, then rests her forehead against mine. “Gimme another one. I need more.”
“You’re so tight. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Although she’s plenty aroused, I don’t know how long it’s been since she’s had sex and the thought of giving her any discomfort makes me hesitate.
“If I can shove a nine-inch dildo in my pussy, I can take two or three of your fingers,” she spits out.
“Nine inches, huh?” I taunt with a devious smirk. “You’ve been preppin’ for me.”
“Get off your high horse and just make me come…unless you’re unable to.”
Delilah’s feisty on a regular day, but this level of sass is making me hard as fuck.
Pulling my hand back slightly, I reenter with three fingers and grin when she cries out. The fit is tight with her panties and jeans still on, but I go as deep as I can with the room I do have.
“Oh, yes. Right there…” she breathes out with her eyes rolled back. Hanging onto my shoulders for support, she rocks against me and controls the speed.
I curl my fingers, hitting that deep spot that’ll send her over the edge, and when it does, she pants and screams through her release. The column of her throat is exposed as she leans back and combined with the way her body vibrates against mine is the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
With my hand drenched in her arousal, I slide out and then shove my fingers between my lips.
“Goddamn, you taste better than I imagined.”
She watches as I lick between my fingers and her face flushes so beautifully.
“Next time I taste you, I’ll be kneelin’ between your legs.”
“Do you have a condom in your wallet?” she blurts, ignoring my comment, and it throws me for a loop at how quickly she’s moving.
“Um…” I scratch along my trimmed jawline, contemplating how to answer that. “Yes, but I’m not fuckin’ you in the front seat of your truck.”
“Why? No one’s out here anyway.”
Although that’d be a concern, it’s not why I won’t do it.
I grip her chin, forcing her eyes to lock on mine. “Thirty minutes ago, you could hardly stand me and now you want me to fuck you?”
She shrugs carelessly. “So? You have one-night stands all the time. What’s the big deal?”
I flinch as if she’d slapped me in the face. “First off, I’ve not slept with anyone in a year. You should know that considerin’ I’m with you almost every weekend I go out. Secondly, you’d never be just a one-night stand to me.”
“Ah.” She pinches her lips and pushes out her cheek with her tongue as if she’s trying to control her emotions. “You’ll sleep with every other girl in town except me. Got it.”
She goes to climb off me and settle back into the driver’s seat, but I grab her before she can.
“Delilah, wait.” I secure my hand around her wrist. “That’s not it at all.”
“No, it’s fine.” She yanks out of my grip, shifts across the center console, and sits behind the wheel.
I’ve been around women long enough to know she’s in fact not fine .
“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you in the first place. It’s a good thing you turned me down. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”
I blink hard, grasping her words and how wrong they sound coming out of her mouth.
“I’m not rejectin’ you because I don’t want you,” I clarify, facing her, but she won’t look at me. “It wouldn’t be just sex to me, so there’s no reason to rush things.”
She grabs her keys and turns the ignition, then jerks the truck into drive.
I’ve never seen her like this. It’s as if there are a million thoughts in her head and she’s picking the worst of them to project onto me.
Eight months of therapy taught me that.
Something I’ve been actively working on myself when it comes to my insecurities. Hard not to feel like you’re a disappointment when all your siblings are married or in relationships, some with babies, too.
“I got hard the second you straddled me, so clearly, I want you,” I continue, hoping she’ll be reasonable and finally talk to me about this.
“Wilder, drop it.”
Not a chance in hell.
“If that’s not enough proof, the second you kissed me, I didn’t wanna stop. I rarely feel that way during sex, but I could hardly keep my mouth off you because I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”
“Forget it happened. I already have,” she snaps, keeping her eyes glued to the road.
I open my mouth to speak, but I have no more words. Whatever just happened between us before I told her I wouldn’t fuck her in here isn’t the same Delilah I’ve come to know.
There’s something she’s not telling me, but I’m determined to find out what’s haunting her so I can fix it.
Delilah Fanning is the only woman I’ve caught feelings for, and up until five minutes ago, considered off-limits.
But now that I’ve had a taste, I’m not giving up without a fight.