Wild Temptation (Wild, #1)(38)

“Miss Warren.” Allen opens the car door, and just as I swing around to get out, I hear his voice.

“Thank you, Allen. I’ll take it from here.”

It’s smooth and sleek, his accent crawling over me. When I look up, it’s into his eyes. Tyler takes my hand and tugs me up. I flatten my free hand against his chest and meet his eyes.

“Hi.”

The car rumbles away behind us, and Tyler’s lips quirk. “Hi.” He pulls me into the building after him. My heels click against the marble floor as we walk, and he glances back at me more than once with heat in his eyes.

The elevator ride is suffocating. The walls seem to close in on us as we travel upward. Anticipation swirls of what’s to come. Excitement buzzes across my skin, affecting my whole body until I can feel my pulse thrumming at my neck.

The doors open slowly. Too slowly. It seems like an hour passes until they’re completely open, and I take a deep breath when we step out. My fingers tingle where they’re wrapped in Tyler’s, and I feel the loss immediately when we enter his apartment and he drops my hand.

He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up. “I’ll get you a drink,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers across my cheek.

No need. I wait until he’s disappeared into the kitchen and unbutton my raincoat. I hang it next to his on the peg and give my boobs a quick adjust in the cups of the camisole. I pause for a moment.

Do I wait here? Do I follow him? Ross never bothered with drinks. It was straight to the bedroom.

Okay, seriously? I’m standing in the apartment of a guy who demanded I bring a scarf so he can tie me up and I’m worrying about fuck-buddy etiquette. It doesn’t get much crazier than that.

Silencing my train of thought, I whip the scarf out of my mac pocket and curl one end of it around my hand. The soft material slips against my skin, and I briefly wonder how effective it’ll be at keeping my hands tied.

With that new, sexy thought in mind, I make my way to the kitchen and stop in the doorway. I lean against the doorframe and run my eyes over him. His gingham shirt is well-fitting, stretching across his shoulders and pulling in at his trim waist. The sleeves are rolled up and sitting just below his elbows, the material not generous enough to hide his biceps. I can even see the tightness of his ass beneath his Levi’s.

“Here,” he says, turning around.

Heat flares in his eyes when they find me, and his tongue flicks out across his lips, wetting them. His gaze crawls over me, taking in the obvious curve of my chest thanks to the push-up bra of my camisole. It slides over where the material parts at my stomach, leaving my skin bare, and hovers at my lace panties.

I run the scarf through my fingers, keeping my eyes on him, as his eyes glance down my legs and finish their perusal of my body. “You said wear the pink camisole. You never said anything about wearing clothes.”

“You’re correct,” he says huskily, setting the wine down and walking toward me. “And you brought a scarf.”

“What can I say? I’m good at following orders.”

“Mmm.” He takes my jaw between his thumb and forefingers and tilts my head up. His eyes are dark, seductive. “I like the sound of that.”

His hand falls away, and I loop the scarf around his neck. “Most of the time, anyway,” I whisper, pulling his face down to mine.

His lips are hot, and it takes him just seconds to take the kiss from a gentle brush to a thorough exploration with his tongue. Each stroke of his tongue against mine ignites a fire deep in my belly that spreads outwards to every one of my limbs.

Without breaking the kiss, Tyler takes the scarf from me and wraps it around my back. He runs it down my body, sliding across my back and over my butt. When it skims the top of my thighs, he pulls my hips toward him with a jerk. His erection pushes into my stomach, hard and ready, and I drop my hand to cup him over his jeans.

I squeeze him lightly and he groans into my mouth, pushing his hips into my hand. Quick as a flash, he grabs my hands and takes them away from his body, spinning me around.

“You appear to have a problem with remembering who’s in control,” he breathes into my ear, sucking lightly on the tender spot below it. “Do you need reminding again so soon?”

“No. I’m not one of your bitches, remember?”

He palms one of my butt cheeks and squeezes. Hard. I clench my jaw together.

“I told you, Liv. You’re my only bitch now.” There’s a rumble of laughter in his husky tone. “You’re so feisty. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

He releases my ass and takes both of my hands, setting them at the base of my back. I hold my breath when the scarf brushes against my wrists. Leisurely, like he has all the time in the world, he wraps the soft material around my wrists in a figure eight and knots it tightly.