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  Why was he calling?

  Did he want to see me again?

  What would I say if he did?

  Excitement flooded my lower belly.

  Get a grip, I whispered to myself before swiping my finger across the screen.

  “Hey,” I said with a lightness in my voice that belied the weight in the pit of my stomach.

  “Hey.” There was something in his voice that sounded almost like relief. “I started to think you weren’t going to pick up.”

  “I thought about it,” I said softly.

  For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he said finally.

  “I’ve been thinking about you too.” I couldn’t lie, not to him. Also, I didn’t want to, and something told me he’d see through my lie anyway.

  “Are you alone?” he said.

  I nodded then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Amy had a dinner date with Colin.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  We were both quiet.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, “how’s that celibacy thing been going?”

  I exhaled. “I got derailed for a couple days, but I’m back on track.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  I heard him breathe. “Thing is, I feel like I should come over, see you…just to make sure.”

  Something tightened in my belly. “How soon can you get here?”

  “A few minutes,” he replied.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled. “Hurry.”

  After the call ended, I got up from the couch. I was wearing a loose tank top and shorts, and I wondered if I had time to change into something sexier. I went to the bathroom and gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror. I ran a quick hand through my hair and wet my lips. My eyes looked wild, expectant, excited.

  I could barely wait.

  The doorbell rang, and I dived for the door. I only spared a moment to look at him, to drink in his effortless hotness in a plain shirt, dark jacket, and jeans before I pulled him into the apartment and dragged his lips down to cover mine.

  His tongue delved into my mouth, claiming me as I so desperately wanted to be claimed. His strong arms lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around him.

  He tore his lips from mine then quirked his lips in a wry smile. “Hello.”

  I laughed weakly. “Hi.”

  “Fuck, Daphne.” His voice was rough. He placed his forehead on mine and exhaled. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

  “Dirty thoughts?”

  “What do you think?”

  He turned so my back was resting on the door then nipped at my lips with his teeth before kissing me again and carrying me all the way to my room, to my bed.

  He set me down then tore off his clothes so fast it felt like one second, he was fully clothed and the next he was beautifully, gloriously naked.

  He joined me on the bed. I’d already gotten rid of my shorts, and now he pushed my tank top over my head, exposing my breasts. He cupped each one and kneaded gently. “Your breasts…your perfect breasts.”

  I closed my eyes, sighing as he touched me, licking and sucking each nipple in turn. He drew one hand down my belly and I spread my legs for him, moaning when his fingers found my clit.

  He teased me and I hovered on the verge of orgasm, sighing out his name and burying my fingers in his hair. When I couldn’t take the pleasure anymore I reached for him, stroking his full hard length with eager fingers.

  “Ah, Daphne.” His voice was thick. He drew his hands over my breasts and stomach then gripped my hips and turned me over on my belly.

  He lifted my hips and knelt behind me, kneading each cheek gently before finding the wet entrance to my body and stroking it with his fingertips.

  My back arched. “Stop making me wait,” I begged.

  He sighed. “You’re so impatient.” He kneaded my butt again then spread my cheeks and drew his fingers from my pussy to rub gently at the tight ring of my anus.

  “I’m going to fuck you every way,” he promised quietly, and then he pressed his fingers inside, pushing his cock into my pussy at the same time.

  The pleasure was too much to bear. My legs were shaking and my fingers gripped the sheets, holding on for dear life. I moaned his name, tears in my eyes as pleasure rocked me to the core.

  “Touch yourself,” he commanded.

  I was too weak. “I can’t.”

  “Daphne,” he repeated, “touch yourself.”

  I lifted one hand between my legs where his cock was pounding into me. My clit was swollen, an explosive mass of nerves. I groaned when I made contact, touching myself while he thrust deep into me and fingered my ass. I couldn’t bear it for long, my body convulsed, and I let go, helpless as I orgasmed in an explosive wave of pleasure.

  His fingers left my ass, and both hands tightened around my hips and thighs, holding me in place while he pounded into me, going deep and hard until I was on the verge of coming again.

  “I’m coming,” he announced, his voice strained as his body tightened and mine clenched around him. We both groaned as waves of pleasure enveloped us at the same time, leaving us breathless and exhausted.

  I collapsed onto my stomach then he rolled to his side and pulled me into his chest, spooning me perfectly while I tried to catch my breath. After a while, he cupped my breast and nipped at my ear.

  “So, about that celibacy thing…” he said, amusement in his voice.

  I chuckled and turned over to face him. “Not going so well.”

  He laughed. “Well, in your defense, I’m irresistible.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes, but I was laughing.

  “Why were you doing it anyway?” he asked. “The no-sex thing.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Very long story.”

  “I have time.”

  I considered changing the subject. Did I really want to share aspects of my past with him? I wasn’t sure, and yet I felt closer to him than I’d ever felt to anyone I’d ever been sexually intimate with. I wanted to tell him things about me, and I wanted to get to know him too.

  I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

  “My dad died when I was eight, then it was just me and my mom until she got married again. Then when I was sixteen, she got sick.” I paused. “I went a bit crazy when she died,” I said quietly. “I was seventeen, lonely as hell, and I started going through boys like…I don’t know, like if I paused long enough to be alone I’d discover how lonely I really was.”

  I raised my eyes to meet his. There was no judgment there, just understanding, and it made my heart lighter somehow.

  “My stepdad moved on so fast. One moment we were holding my mom’s hands in the hospital, the next he was dating again then married, and it was as if they couldn’t wait until I was out of the house that had always been my home. According to my therapist, I ‘drowned my loneliness’ with casual sex.” I shrugged.

  “Your stepdad sounds like an asshole,” Jason said.

  “Maybe, or just a regular selfish dude who didn’t count on being saddled with a sick wife and an angsty teenager.”

  “So, an asshole.”

  I shrugged. “Anyway, in college, it was more of the same. I had short flings, hooked up a lot. I was never alone, always with a new guy, a new crowd…even when I moved here. I thought I was happy, you know? I was going to live that way forever, and I didn’t mind it because at least if something happened to me, I wouldn’t leave anybody behind to live with the kind of pain I felt when I lost my mom.”

  Jason squeezed my hand, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Last year, my stepdad sent me a letter my mom left for me. He was supposed to give it to me on my twenty-first birthday, so he was three years late. I guess he forgot.”

  “Asshole,” Jason muttered.

  I smiled. “It made me stop and think about some of the choices I was making. It
made me get help with unpacking the way I’d dealt with some of the things from the past…and yeah, it made me stop and decide to be alone for a while.”

  “You want to tell me what it said?” Jason asked.

  I gave him a long look then shook my head. “Not now. Maybe someday.”

  “I’d like that,” he replied, as if there was a chance we actually had a ‘someday’. “Come here,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

  I sighed and relaxed into him, burying my head in his chest. It felt so good to be held by him, to be surrounded by his warmth, and to have the scent of his skin in my nose.

  “Don’t let it go to your head,” I said, “but you are pretty irresistible.”

  His laugh was a deep rumble in his chest. “Daphne,” he murmured. “My little gorgeous Daphne Bird.”

  I loved the way he said my name. “I’m not little,” I countered. And you’re not his, added a voice deep inside my head. I ignored it.

  One hand drifted lazily to cup one of my breasts. “You’re right,” he said. “Not little at all.”

  I chuckled. “You’re horrible.”

  “I know.” His face turned serious. “I can’t get enough of you,” he said simply.

  I knew exactly what he meant. I was crazy about him, couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wanted more than just a random weekend and an unplanned booty call, but I still wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted. Was I ready for a relationship? And even if I was, was he the right person to try a relationship with? I remembered Amy’s warning about him. Wild. He lives up to his name. I wasn’t looking to end up with someone whose default was to play the field when I was trying to leave that kind of life behind me.

  “We could hook up a few more times till we get tired of each other.” I felt a pang when I said it, because I didn’t really believe I would or could get tired of him.

  “And if we don’t?” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I like you,” he said, “and it’s not just because of the sex, which is…” He paused. “Out of this world. I want us to see each other, for real, be a…”

  “Couple?” I finished for him.

  “Yes.”

  Looking at him then, I knew I was going to fall in love with him, knew no other man would ever come close…and it scared the living daylights out of me.

  “No.” I shook my head then stood up. There was a robe hanging on the bed frame and I pulled it on, tying the rope tightly around my waist. “No. That’s not what I want.” I paused. “Wait, are you offering a relationship because you think it’s what I want? What all women want?”

  “Of course not.” He got off the bed as well and stood facing me, naked, unselfconscious, and of course, devastatingly perfect. “I care about you.”

  “No, you don’t,” I replied, even though, somehow, I knew he did. I wasn’t ready for that. I just couldn’t handle it, not yet. “It’s the sex,” I continued. “We’re good together, so maybe that’s why you’re getting confused about what this is.”

  “I’m not confused.”

  “Yes, you are. Why can’t we just be casual? Why can’t we just fuck until this attraction fades then call it a day? Why does it have to be anything more than that?”

  “Do you really think this ‘attraction’ is going to fade?”

  I didn’t reply.

  “Daphne, this last weekend, I didn’t want you to leave, and today—in fact, all week—I wanted to see you, and not just because of the sex. I don’t like to lie to myself. I don’t think we can be casual.”

  The implication of what he was saying was something I wanted. Yes, I’d wondered what it would be like to really be with him. A part of me wanted it, but a part of me held back, clawing desperately to regain a foothold in the place that was familiar, the place where I was alone but safe.

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t like to lie to myself either,” I said, watching as he pulled on his briefs then his jeans. “You told me yourself you only do flings and hookups. I’m supposed to believe that’s changed?” I folded my arms. “Or do you get some extra kicks by convincing women you want more when you actually don’t? I’m not interested in falling for you so that when you choose to walk away, you can have my broken heart to feed your ego.”

  “To feed my ego?” He frowned. “Come on, Daphne, do you really think I need broken hearts to feed my ego? This… You’re not a game to me.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that, coming from Mr. Flings and Hookups?”

  “Yeah, because that’s so different from you.”

  “At least I’m not trying to present myself as someone who wants more when it’s clearly not true.”

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  I was quiet as he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it quickly before picking up his jacket and slinging it over his arm. He walked to the door and paused.

  “You know what I think? I think you’re afraid. You’re afraid of facing up to the fact that you have no idea how to be in a relationship. You’re willing to barricade yourself inside the walls of your self-imposed celibacy to keep from facing reality.”

  “Thanks, doctor,” I said, rolling my eyes. Inside, I was trembling, afraid of how off balance he was making me feel, afraid because I knew what he was saying was true. “Are you done psychoanalyzing me now?”

  “Actually, no.” His face hardened. “It can only be two extremes for you, casual sex with people you don’t care about or no sex at all so you don’t have to learn how to care. There’s no middle ground where we explore the possibility of being together.”

  “No, you’re right—there isn’t.” I swallowed. I didn’t want to think about what he was saying. I didn’t want to want to be with him, to care about him and one day watch him leave. “There is no middle ground, so I might as well go back to the one extreme that always worked for me.”

  His jaw worked. “Daphne…”

  “Actually, thanks for analyzing me. A year of therapy didn’t even achieve close to what you have. Since the celibacy is obviously a fool’s errand and unsustainable in the long run, I might as well go back to living the best way I know how. It’s a lot more fun anyway, and I don’t have to worry about getting hurt or being left behind—though I doubt you of all people could ever understand what it feels like to lose someone you love, to be left with nobody and no one.”

  He was quiet. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s what I know.”

  He smiled wryly. “Have fun, Daphne. Have a nice life.”

  I shrugged, defiant. “I will.”

  He stood looking at me for a long moment, and then he closed the distance between us and covered my lips with his. The kiss was short, hot, and left me panting, but before I could start to get my breath back, he was gone. I waited until I heard the main door shut before I collapsed onto the carpet and hugged my knees to my chest.

  For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel in control. I felt like everything I’d ever told myself about being on my own was a lie, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

  Everything’s fine, I told myself. Now, the haze of our sexual attraction would pass. He could go back to his wild life, and I could go back to…

  What exactly?

  Waiting? Keeping myself under lock and key because…because Jason was right and I was too afraid to face up to the fact that I didn’t know how to be in a relationship? The fact that, deep down, I was still afraid the only person I knew how to be was that girl all alone in the world, drowning her loneliness in sex?

  Well, I knew who I was—I was the girl who went out and had fun and didn’t get emotionally entangled.

  I shook off the robe and opened my closet. I’d told him I was going to live on the other extreme, and that was exactly what I was going to do. I was going to go out, have a drink, flirt a little, find myself a man, and forget about Jason Wild.

  Starting immediately.

  Wild Sexy Fix

  Want some more sexy Jason goodness? WILD SEXY FI
X, the next book in this series, is available for sale at all ebook retailers.

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  Get more information at Wild Sexy Fix.

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  Author’s Note

  Hi!!!

  Thank you so much for reading Wild Sexy Thing. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you took the time to read and enjoy my book. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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  Love Always,

  Serena.

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  ♥♥♥

  About Serena Grey

  I’m obsessed with books and read whenever I can–romance, fantasy, mystery, history–anything I can lay my hands on. I grew up reading Danielle Steel, Nora Roberts and many other romance authors. These days, I read Whitney Garcia Williams, Laurelin Paige, E.L James and Sylvia Day, though you’re as likely to find me reading Brandon Sanderson and George R R Martin.

  I’m an older millennial–made in 1985. I have a husband I love and a baby son I adore. I love wine, coffee with lots of cream, chocolate chip cookies, and my superpower is knowing how to live on the bright side of life.

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