Too Wild to Tame Read online

  They stopped moving. “Move on where?”

  “I don’t know.” She smiled, thinking of the possibilities behind those three words. “Places I’m needed. Places I can help. They’re everywhere.” She’d always thought stating those dreams out loud would feel more like soaring, but while being held in Aaron’s arms…maybe it was premature, but there was more than just herself to consider now. Their paths might not be destined to intersect beyond the foreseeable future in Iowa, but pretending she didn’t hope they did? She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t lie by omission. “But right now, you’re here—”

  “Shit. Grace, I can’t do this.” His arms dropped from around her in favor of plowing through his hair, leaving the cold to rush in from all sides. “I don’t know what I was thinking, keeping this until the end of the night.”

  “What?” Grace managed around the claw of dread sinking into her jugular. “Keep what?”

  Aaron stared down the path for a few heavy beats. “Your father is sending me to New York earlier than expected.” Their gazes met, wind rushing through the gap separating them. “Tomorrow morning.”

  Around Grace, the colors whirled with a kaleidoscope effect. “Tomorrow? But the camp—”

  “Yeah, I screwed myself there, didn’t I? Set it up so well, pretty much anyone can walk in and run the rebuild. I made myself obsolete.”

  Grace realized her hands were twisting the material of her coat, and with an effort, she pried them free. She’d thought they had a couple of weeks together before he left to fulfill his mother’s wish in New York. So shortsighted of her. Of course her father would want him in New York sooner, where he’d set up Pendleton campaign headquarters. Their poll numbers had gone through the roof since Aaron arrived, and he would be most efficient around more cameras. More people and action. But another more undesirable notion occurred, knocking the remaining wind out of Grace’s sails. “He’s not sending you away because of me, is he?”

  His massaged the center of his forehead. “Yes. That’s part of it.” Grace almost buckled under the reality of her father’s interference—once again—in her life. This time, grinning and bearing wouldn’t be possible. There was something big between herself and Aaron and cutting it short…it scared her. She was scared. Aaron interrupted her train of thought by capturing her chin, lifting. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how much.” Eyes burning, his hand fell away. “I need to get you home.”

  Disbelief plowed into her midsection. “Already?”

  A muscle moved in his cheek. “I must not be as big a bastard as I thought.” He took her hand, but made no move to leave. “I can’t sleep with you tonight, knowing full well I’ll be on the road while you’re still in bed tomorrow morning. It doesn’t feel right, hippie. Not with you.”

  He started to tug her up the path, but she resisted. “And you can’t finish our date, either?”

  “No. I can’t,” Aaron grated. “This was a bad idea. Every second I stand here with you, I’m making it harder to walk away. You’re—God, look at you. You’re brighter than the fucking lights and I have to drive away. More than that, I should be happy about it. This campaign job was the only thing I cared about until now.”

  She absorbed that. “I’ve ruined you.”

  “No. Never.” He turned her hand over in his palm, scrutinizing each of her fingers in turn. “But there’s no way of being sure that I wouldn’t ruin you. And, Jesus, as much as I’m dying to take you somewhere and taste you all over, to hold you through the night…” He paused to release a shaky exhale. “I’ll feel twice as fucked up over leaving. I’m leaving, Grace. And maybe it’s a good thing we won’t have the chance to find out how you and I would have played out.”

  Grace’s blood had slowed during his words, making her feel light-headed. “Do you believe that?”

  “No,” he whispered. “Fuck no, I don’t believe that.”

  What were her options here? To beg him not to leave Iowa? Ask him to travel around the country, sleeping on cots, living one day at a time, as she’d always dreamed of doing? Aaron was no more suited to that life than she was cut out for life on the campaign trail. Or the fast-paced, high-powered New York beat. There was so much in store for Aaron there. He was already taking the political scene by storm, rising to fame, along with the poll numbers he commanded at will. Furthermore, Aaron hadn’t asked her to come to New York. It was an option that didn’t exist, so why was she thinking about it, instead of living the way she’d chosen? Living for the moments, because they were what counted. They were what would be remembered.

  “You’re treating me like I can’t think for myself again.”

  Aaron did a double take. “How so?”

  Until she’d said the words, Grace hadn’t realized the truth behind them. How his white glove treatment scalded her pride. Or maybe it was her fear of waking up tomorrow and not experiencing what Aaron made her feel. Whatever the reason for her sudden surge in determination, she had no choice but to go with it, because a giant sinkhole had opened in her stomach, sucking away her ability to be rational. Leaving. He’s leaving. “You’re assuming I can’t handle our last night together.” She tipped back her head to stare into the lights. “You think I’ll fall apart any more or any less tomorrow if it’s on the heels of us sleeping together? Well, I won’t. I’ll probably miss you the same amount, no matter what.” Her breath sailed out in a trail of white. “A lot. I’m going to miss you a lot.”

  “Grace…” She heard him swallow. “I didn’t even know I was capable of missing anything until I found out I was leaving you. I haven’t even packed yet and I’m…panicked.” He massaged his chest. “I think. I don’t know what missing someone is supposed to feel like. Sharp? Huge? It’s a Grace ache. It won’t stop. But—”

  “My father is right to send you away from me?” she interrupted. “If that’s what you’re going to say, please don’t.”

  His gaze cut to the side. “All right. I won’t.”

  Her body reacted to the misery in his voice, a painful throb forming in several vital regions. Center of her chest, mainly. But also the spot where her thighs joined. God, she didn’t want their last memory together to be cast in sadness or resentment. She’d pictured their date ending in a tangle of straining bodies, wet kissing, moaning. If she’d had some time to prepare, maybe she could have trailed a finger down his stomach and suggested they end the night the best way, like a worldly woman might. Which she clearly was not, because her body was shaking under the weight of Aaron’s good-bye.

  Grace felt for one of the ribbons in her hair, rubbing the silk material, praying for her elusive maturity to return. The longer she stood there, the more guilt she heaped on Aaron for following his dream, building his career. A career he was born to excel in. She was being selfish wanting him to stay behind and…build her a tower. Live there with her forever. But she could have tonight. He’d obviously wanted to give her one more night, hadn’t he? Before his chivalry had kicked in?

  Yes. Maybe if she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough while Aaron moved inside her body, she could remember it with perfect, punching clarity. Hold on to it always. He wanted that memory, too; she just needed to remind him how much.

  “Okay,” she breathed, surprised her motor skills were functioning well enough to hold out her hand. “Take me home.”

  Aaron didn’t move for long moments, staring at her from beneath the darkness of his furrowed brows. Just as Grace readied to drop her hand, Aaron latched on and walked her back up the path. In tacit agreement, they bypassed the barn, crunching through the heavier drifts of snow on the barn’s perimeter. Hearing the sounds of joy emanating from within only made the journey harder, if such a thing were possible.

  They reached the Suburban, and too quickly, Grace was forced to let go of Aaron’s hand. He unlocked the passenger’s side door, gripping her elbow and guiding her into the seat, before extending an arm across the console to start the Suburban’s ignition, unlock the doors, and get the heat running
. After that, silence fell like heavy theater curtains, only growing denser when Aaron made no move toward the driver’s side. He always loomed in his largeness, his overwhelming energy, but as he stared down at Grace, he was massive. Unavoidable. And when he reached across her body to lock in the seatbelt she’d neglected to engage herself, she couldn’t hold in the effect of having him so close, so desolate.

  As if they moved on their own, Grace’s hands lifted, palms curving along the shape of Aaron’s cheeks, moving down to his jaw, back up. His gruff curse pierced the quiet, his lids falling to hide his eyes. His endurance of her touch didn’t last long, though, his masculine hands finding her face, thumbs sliding along her cheekbones, along the bridge of her nose, the curve of her upper lip. All without looking, as if he might be cataloging Grace’s features and didn’t want the power of sight detracting from touch.

  “I don’t know why, but…” Aaron eased closer, wrapping Grace in his warmed scent. “I’m so fucking worried that when I think of you, I’ll think of you huddled on the closet floor after I said those horrible things. But that shouldn’t be. Not after I’ve watched you dance in the snow and…moan underneath me.” His fingers raked into her hair from the bottom of her skull, letting loose a flood of tingles down her back. “I think maybe I want to stay fucked up over this. I think that’s why I won’t think of you and be happy. The pain will mean you were real.”

  “That’s either the best or worst thing you could say to me.” His laughter dropped like a boulder into the crook of Grace’s neck, followed by a heavy inhale. She could feel the effort it cost Aaron to keep his touch above her neck, and every moment of that struggle was met by a growing one, low in her own belly. “When I think of you, you’ll be climbing up to our tower in the sky, ice cream in hand. That’s the real you.”

  His grip flexed in her hair. “That guy is going to vanish when you’re not around to see him.”

  “No. He was there before I came along. He’ll be there after.” Grace turned her head, bringing her mouth up against Aaron’s ear, a deep, male groan warming her neck at the brushing of lips and lobe. “He could be there tonight, moving inside me.”

  Grace felt the rough shift in Aaron happen. Finally. His abdomen was hollowing and shuddering against her stomach, his energy tightening like a bolt. With that change in Aaron’s intention, her lungs filled, relief and rightness and arousal clamoring in from all corners. She didn’t want him to remember her on the closet floor. She didn’t want their parting to be sad. In fact, she refused. Moments. Something told her there had never been more important ones to capture.

  One of Aaron’s hands remained in her hair, but the other had fallen to her knee, his breath beginning to pelt her neck, ear, shoulder. “No. No, I think I’m already losing whoever you think I am, Grace.” His hand coasted up her thigh. “That other guy knows he should take you home and leave you with a good-bye kiss on the cheek. But me…” He cupped her feminine flesh, pressing the heel of his hand against her mound with a harsh sound. “That guy wants to fuck you in the backseat.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Aaron was too aroused to hate himself. That would come later, landing like cement blocks on his shoulders. Right now, he was all about funneling every goddamn, inconvenient ounce of regret into pleasuring Grace. Her thighs were spreading on the seat to accommodate his touch, telling Aaron the need was far from one-sided. Words. He’d spoken more words to her than anyone in his memory, but none of them were adequate. Christ, he didn’t even have a handle on the meaning behind them yet. That understanding could come in fifty years, for all he knew. In this moment, this physical ache for Grace was what he could grasp. So with an invisible iron manacle fashioned around his throat, he dove for the lifeline.

  “Yes, I want that,” she whispered, both of them reaching for her seatbelt at once, mouths shoved together without kissing. Just breathing, breathing, panting, promising without words how big and bad they were going to orgasm each other. In that moment, even with lust building to a crescendo beneath his belt, Aaron knew he wouldn’t feel a fraction of that desire ever again, with anyone else. Before Grace and After Grace. Two distinct periods of his life, slicing him right down the middle, severing his heart in the process.

  As soon as the metal slid free of its hold, Aaron jerked Grace off the seat and out of the Suburban, frantic for the pressure of her pussy, growling as it dropped onto his hard cock. “Can’t believe I won’t get my fill of this.” He was off balance and hungry and staggering under the atomic blast of need, so Grace’s ass hit the car with more force than intended, but he could only manage a muttered apology before he was dry humping her giving body against the car door, the impact rocking the whole damn Suburban with rusted groans. “How long do you think it would take, huh? Before I could go five minutes without getting hard for your pussy?”

  She whimpered under the force of a rough thrust. “I’d never let you find out.”

  Good God. Had he once thought this girl fragile? No. Grace was benevolent and seductive and fierce. She was life. She was everything. “Sounds like you’re getting cocky now.” He pressed his forehead to the frigid car window, delivering a merciless pump of his hips. “You should be. That’s a tight, slippery ride you’ve got between your legs, baby. Going to bury my tongue so deep in it, your legs will shake for a fucking week.” She got a little wild at that, grinding into his drives, confirming Aaron’s suspicion that she had a dirty streak. “When you think about me, you think of that. Think of me stroking off somewhere, trying to grip my dick as hard as your pussy grips me when you come.”

  “Aaron.” Her head capsized, falling back and bumping the window. “I need you. I need you inside me.”

  “Not half as bad as I need it.” Aaron paused in his assault on Grace’s body long enough to open the ancient door and lift her onto the leather seat. Already the windows were fogged up from the heat he’d turned on, creating a sense of total isolation no one would be able to share with them. Aaron rolled the door shut and joined Grace on the cracked leather, taking a moment to savor the way she watched him as they removed their jackets—all wide-eyed anticipation—before he gripped her ankles and flipped her face down on the seat. “Push up. Show me my ride, Grace.”

  The rapid rise and fall of her back—that show of nerves and excitement—turned him on to such an extreme level, Aaron had no choice but to unbuckle his belt and lower his fly to ease the confinement of his pulsing cock. And all the while, he watched Grace gain courage, watched as she flattened her palms on either side of her head, hips lifting, back bowing to give that perfect tilt. There was no stopping himself from sliding a hand into his jeans and granting himself a series of brutal strokes, not bothering to hold back his sexually charged grunts, well aware that her breathing got increasingly shallow the longer he kept her waiting in that position.

  In reality, only a few seconds passed before Aaron grew impatient to touch, to see every inch of the body his own had become obsessed with giving relief. Releasing his rigid cock, he tucked his fingers beneath the waistband of Grace’s leggings—panties, too—and whooshed both garments down her thighs, leaving them bunched at her knees.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, a tremor moving down her back. “Oh God.”

  “We’re not fucking in a sleeping bag this time, are we?” Mesmerized by the smooth, succulent shapes of her sex, her ass, Aaron trailed a thumb downward between her cheeks, unable to stop it from lingering at both entrances, applying light amounts of pressure. “You can’t hide anything from me now.”

  Without giving her a warning, Aaron clutched the insides of her thighs, pushing them open. “Please…”

  “Baby, you don’t have to beg for a goddamn thing.” Satisfied that her position would give him enough access to taste her the deepest, he slid each of his hands over their own personal ass cheek and squeezed, watching the shadows shift along her flesh, watching the way her feminine lips seemed to strain toward his touch. “If this is my only chance to eat your pussy, I pr
omise, it’s going to be thorough. First, though…”

  “First?”

  “First.” Aaron pushed the shirt up Grace’s back, exposing the gorgeous curve of her spine, and he trailed his tongue up the entire length, ending at her nape. “Tell me if I’m wrong. But when a girl is hot enough to bend over and show a man both ways to get inside her, she doesn’t mind having her ass slapped.” With his left hand, he gripped her taut backside until she moaned. “Would you agree with that?”

  “I…I don’t know. I’ve never—”

  Swat. “Now you can say Aaron’s done it.” He released a pent-up breath as Grace whimpered. Fuck, he wasn’t going to recover from this. The way her flesh gave that sweet little reverberation, her bottom lifting in a silent plea for more. That was his Grace, always eager for new experiences, new sensations, greeting everything with open arms and he wanted to give and give and give until she was overflowing. He delivered another slap with his palm, coming up from below, feeling his cock thicken in the loose opening of his jeans. But nothing—nothing—compared to the way his mouth salivated, dying to make a meal of her already glistening pussy.

  One more slap of her tight backside was all he could manage before he threw his weight down onto one elbow, shooting forward to bury his tongue in the beckoning flesh, licking through her seam to find that nub. The one begging for ownership, someone to take care of it, rile it up and soothe it down.

  Needing more access, more Grace, Aaron used his right hand to push apart her ass cheeks, growling into the separation, laving the pearl at the top of her pussy with his tongue, saying a thankful prayer to the God of cunnilingus when she pressed backward against his mouth. Goddammit, if he had time, even just one more day, he would give this beautiful girl whisker burn between her legs from too much oral. The taste of her was an intoxicant, turning him into a drunk trying to get every last drop of whiskey from a bottle.