Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) Read online

  His easy agreement unsettled her at the time. Boy, was she a dumb ass. All her control over their situation vanished the minute each session was over. Then and only then, when it was just them, he kissed her. Only kissed her.

  At first she’d been cautious and held back, until Ty made it clear that she had nothing to get anxious about. He swore to her on a stack of Bibles and the head of his firstborn that kissing was all they’d do. Pinky swear and everything.

  After that, she threw herself into giving as much as she received until these kissing onslaughts became red hot and right on the edge of control.

  God, she was dumb. But she couldn’t help it. He drew her in and she was just naïve enough to hope he was equally as drawn to her.

  And that folks, she thought with a wry smirk, is how we got here. He asked. She couldn’t say no. The pleasure he showed when she agreed was big enough to be seen from the moon. What’s a girl to do in those circumstances?

  Dressing quickly, Charlie was putting the finishing touches to her outfit when she heard Ty’s beast of a sports car outside her open window. Since tonight was all about Crepuscolo, they’d be taking the Ferrari.

  “Remember who you are,” she muttered to her reflection. With her nerves uncharacteristically shredded she decided that if nothing else, maybe seeing him in his work environment would help her understand what was really going on with him. She didn’t have much time left. When their arrangement wrapped up she was off to London. And after that? Who knew.

  At the moment though she had a client to help and if that client also kissed her senseless, well—boo hoo.

  She heard his approach in the hallway. Ty had an exuberance in his step which never took into account where he was. Carpet, wood floor, tile—hell, probably even a skating rink. The man walked with purpose and confidence. Dammit, and just like that, she felt heat ignite inside her and, as usual, send a rush of arousal straight for her undies.

  Charlie smiled when he pounded on her door. “Such a boy.” She snickered when he called out, “Your chariot awaits, Contessa.”

  With one final fluff to the hair she left to tumble over her shoulders and a quick sticking out of her tongue to her reflection, it was time to get this show on the road. Grabbing her clutch, she peeked inside to make sure she had the essentials and walked to the door.

  “Please don’t let this be a mistake,” she whispered aloud as her hand turned the knob. When the door opened, and she saw him in a dark blue suit with a vest and tie and even a pocket square, another shot of fiery lust exploded inside.

  Damn. She was so fucked.

  Holy fucking shit.

  No. Being completely serious here. Holy. Motherfucking. Shitballz.

  Cal had hung out with his fair share of socialites, actresses and models but none of them came close to the astonishing sight when ‘tessa flung open the door to her flat.

  She looked—well, she looked like an angel. It was the long blonde hair, had to be. Or maybe the pale blue dress that seemed to hang off her breasts from a plunging v-neck. Whatever it was, she was ravishing. Beautiful, sexy and sweet, his American friend was giving him an erotic heart attack and all she‘d done was open the door.

  “Hello, Signor Tyler,” she said with a chuckle. “So, I should assume from the dumbstruck expression on your face that you like my little party dress.”

  She preened and shimmied like a pro, even gave him a little impromptu bump and grind as he stood there gaping at her.

  “‘tessa,” he groaned appreciatively. “You steal my breath away, babe.”

  She laughed. “Well, I’m glad.” Looking him over with a critical eye, she quipped, “And I must say, Ty … you clean up pretty well yourself.”

  Beaming at the compliment, a reaction that surprised him, ‘cause generally he didn’t give a shit what people thought, he abandoned being polite and slipped his hand beneath her hair, wrapping it around her neck.

  “Sorry, not sorry,” he ground out as his head lowered. “Can’t wait for later.”

  He’d startled her and didn’t want to freak her out too much, so Cal kissed her softly at first. Nibbling and playing at the corners of her sweet mouth until she melted into his touch. Then he pulled her closer, their mouths alternating between hungry and open, their tongues dancing together followed by fierce suckling and nibbling.

  “Ty,” she sighed.

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

  Her small hand moved to his face, and he felt her swiping a thumb on his lips. “Pink Blush isn’t your color.” When she finished wiping her lipstick off his mouth, he reached for her hand and sucked her thumb into his mouth. When she inhaled a shaky breath and then held it, he almost pinned her to the wall with his body but grinding his ferocious erection against her belly wasn’t a great idea. Not right this second, anyway.

  “Shouldn’t we be going?”

  Oh. Yeah. Probably.

  But he didn’t move. Didn’t want to. When he stood like this, crowding her personal space, Ty got off on the way they fit so perfectly. He was big and cast a deep shadow while she was smaller. Almost delicate but with a grit rarely seen in a girl her age.

  She went to take his arm, and before he could reel in the attraction he was drowning in, he said out loud what his brain was thinking.

  “Oh God no, ‘tessa. You’re on your own.”

  “What?” she barked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  He bawled with delight at her fiery reaction. “It just means that you can walk that sexy ass of yours to the car all by yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” He flashed a full grin, teeth and all.

  “And what will you be doing while I walk by myself?” The accusatory tone that shrieked, “You mannerless oaf,” fired him up even more.

  “Why, I’ll be bringing up the rear and watching your way-too-fuckable ass in this far too short dress that shows off a pair of stems which I’ll dream about having wrapped around my back.”

  There. He told her.

  Instead of the outrage he expected, she bit her lip to stop a laugh and gave him one of those “sheesh” eye rolls women were so good at.

  Without so much as another word, she shoved past him, said, “Pull the door shut till you hear the lock,” then sashayed down the dimly lit hallway like the queen of the runway.

  He barely had time to ensure the door was locked before he hurried after her, enjoying the not very subtle roll of her hips. That’s when he got a good look at her shoes. He admitted to being a dog where footwear was concerned. A woman confidently rocking a pair of killer heels was like crack to him. He couldn’t get enough. And that fantasy about taking her bent over his Chevelle in the sexy hi-top boots? Yeah. Quickly being replaced by her long legs sporting a pair of high heel sandals with an ankle strap. Visualizing her gripping the dark blue metal of his favorite car as he pounded her from behind sent all the fluids in his body to his groin. In two seconds, his balls were aching and on fire and he was regretting the slim fit of his suit. Not enough comfort room for his cock.

  She skipped down two flights of stairs with ease. Ty had to marvel. How the fuck did women navigate in those sexy shoes? These were things that puzzled him. Female mysteries. Like, how do they give birth like a champ but shriek and cry helplessly over a spider on the ceiling? Didn’t make sense.

  At the glass entry doors, she pulled up and waited for him. He smiled. So, she was willing to perform but not willing to open the door herself. His sex surged with pleasure. Isn’t this what Jax meant by a temptress in the bedroom and a lady in public? He was politely paraphrasing of course. Substitute whore for temptress and the lewd quote was way more accurate.

  And since his mind went there, note to self. Return his brother’s recent call and do it soon. Jax left a message—the six hour time difference had a way of killing phone calls—and unless Cal was mistaken, his older brother was involved with a woman. About the last thing he ever expected of Jax, he was intrigued and wanted t
o know more.

  “Enjoy the view?” she teased when he leaned close and reached for the door.

  Palming her ass as she swept past, he huskily drawled, “Thong, bikini or commando?”

  Full of feigned outrage, she gasped and put a hand to her throat. “I beg your pardon? A gentleman never inquires about a lady’s um, unmentionables.”

  “Fuck that gentleman shit and your unmentionables are the current topic of conversation—so spill. Butt floss?”

  She pouted and frowned.

  “No? Hmm. Sensible bikinis or granny pants?”

  The frown turned to a very obvious “Bite me.”

  “If it’s commando, babe”—he put his hand in the small of her back and steered her toward his car—“we’ll be doing the naked do-si-do before the night is out, and that’s a promise.”

  “Big square dancer, are you?” she said with a giggle.

  “Circle left,” he replied as he pushed her at the car door and crowded close. “Now answer the question or I’m gonna find out for myself.” His hand was slowly snaking the bottom of her dress up her thighs as he threw down the taunt.

  She grabbed his wrist to stop the ascent. “My sisters warned me about guys like you.”

  “Got a category all of my own,” he joked. “Mr. Sexy Pants, I believe. Right?”

  “Uh huh. An exclusive, I’m sure. And my sister calls you Paws. Because of the grabby thing. Now unhand me Mr. Tyler or I’ll be forced to adjust the height of my knee.”

  He roared with laughter. “Holy fuck! Did you just threaten to knee me in the nuts?”

  “Yes I did,” she laughed right back at him. “But even so, I don’t feel your hand behaving.”

  “Tell me then.”

  Her smile was full of humor when she replied. “Well, you’re wrong. Not a thong and not bikini’s and definitely not commando.”

  “What the hell else is there?” Cal chuckled and then a truly funny visual crowded his mind. “Oh, shit! Wait a minute. A chastity belt? Is that it? You’ve got the goodies locked up?”

  “What is wrong with you?” her laugh was pure joy.

  “Vivid imagination. Family trait. Now stop stalling and explain yourself, young lady.”

  “Okay, you big bully. Seamless hi-rise panties. No lines. All over coverage.”

  He considered this tidbit of information and nodded. “I have a lot to learn about unmentionables. But do me a favor, would you?”

  “What do you need?” she immediately asked.

  With a wicked leer, he pinned her with a look. “Flash me getting into the car. Pleeeeease,” he added like a whiny kid.

  “No can do. Not without a ring on it. Sorry. My unmentionables are for private viewing only.”

  While she got situated in the car, all he could do was shake his head, astonished. With that simple statement, she told him in a way that only a moron couldn’t understand that she wasn’t anyone’s plaything.

  Let the games begin.

  “TY, COME SAY HELLO TO my designer. Her services are all the rage right now. Got her re-doing my whole house. Especially the bedroom, if you catch my meaning. You might want to show her what you’ve got. At the villa that is.”

  Cal heard the snicker and wanted to punch Kevin Bartholomew’s face in for being such a dick. Jesus Christ. Clearly, he was with someone, so this douche nozzle swooping in out of nowhere, leering at ‘tessa and immediately making dumb comments about doing his designer? Yeah. That wasn’t going to fly with him. Ever.

  Taking a brief sip of his usual apple juice and seltzer, he shifted closer to the girl at his side and gave off a territorial vibe. “Kevin. This is my girlfriend, ‘tessa. Please watch your fucking mouth unless you want my fist coming out your asshole.”

  He felt ‘tessa stiffen slightly, but she did nothing to correct his wording.

  “Ease off the pedal, my friend,” Kevin drunkenly burbled. “No offense to your not-so-little lady intended.” The obvious and insulting reference to ‘tessa’s considerable attributes made him see red.

  Cal almost punched the idiot’s lights out when he grabbed her hand and planted a disgusting, wet kiss on her knuckles. Fucking a-hole.

  When the prick didn’t release her hand and stood his ground, even drawing what Cal could see was her clenched fist closer to his chest while his eyes fixed on her boobs, he very nearly exploded. Thing was, there was no need. The Contessa of Skippy stuck her cute little nose up in the air and fixed Bartholomew with a withering glare.

  “I don’t recall giving you permission to touch me.”

  The other guy looked shocked by the scathing put-down.

  “Now you either release my hand, stop staring at my chest and apologize to Mr. Tyler for being a shithead or I’m going to cause a scene. A scene that will make you look like king of the losers. Your choice.”

  Her brilliant smile reeked of snark. He wanted to throw up his hand for a high-five. Cal watched Kevin swallow. Hard. The guy also dropped her hand like it was on fire, colored beet red and hung his head. Wow, how the hell did she do that so easily?

  “Sorry, Ty.” Without another word, his teammate spun on his heel and scurried away.

  “I detest men like that. Cup size is not an indicator of intelligence or lack thereof.” Though the words were spoken softly, he heard them loud and clear. He’d figured this out about her pretty quickly. “Can we get some air, please? This room smells like a Beverly Hills elevator. Ugh.”

  A Beverly Hills elevator. Jeez. She was priceless. And right. The air in the reception room was heavy with enough perfume and cologne to choke a dog.

  Quickly taking her drink, he put both their glasses on a table and took her elbow, turning ‘tessa in the direction of towering French doors leading to the terrace. Once they were clear of the noisy, crowded room, he immediately apologized. “I’m sorry about this. These receptions make shit-tons of money, so it’s hard to say no.”

  Outside, a cool breeze made breathing a pleasure. So did listening to the tap, tap, tap of her heels on the stone. The view from the long terrace afforded a stunning view of Rome with the Gianicola off in the distance. The setting sun made the city rooftops, distinctive architecture, churches and monuments appear washed with a spectacular golden hue. It was one of his favorite vistas and tonight, the sky, a smoky blue melting to pinks and purples was putting on a wondrous show.

  “No need to apologize.” She gave a half shrug and flipped some hair behind her shoulder. Tilting her head to look at him, he saw her mouth curve in a smile. “My dad is a college professor. I grew up making nice at all sorts of receptions just like this.” Nudging him playfully, ‘tessa’s eyes twinkled when she snickered, “Fund raising. The ugly elephant in every room.”

  “Yeah, well, I hate this shit. Hate most these people, too. Fuck my life, y’know?” Cal said the words quickly and then looked away. It wasn’t what he meant to say at all, but this is what she did to him. Seeing through his macho bullshit came far too easily to the young girl who was shaking him up in ways he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

  He let out a harsh breath and rolled one shoulder while turning his head back and forth to ease the tightness. They’d been standing, milling about for ninety minutes and he’d been fine until now but a fire bolt of heat and pain rushing along his spine and into his hip caused a rough sounding half grunt to rumble from his mouth.

  “Ty?” Her hand was on his bicep. He felt the power of her touch right through his suit. Poker-faced, she watched him closely and spoke in a hushed murmur. “What’s wrong?”

  He looked heavenward and inhaled deeply. What’s wrong? Shit, man. A simple question with a complicated answer. What’s wrong? Cal closed his eyes tight and groaned aloud. Fuck. He’s what was wrong.

  But, he didn’t say that. Couldn’t. Not out loud, so he went with a partial truth and hoped it’d be enough. “My back is fucking killing me.”

  Very, very hesitantly she quietly asked, “Do you need to take something?”

  Goddammit.
He heard the concern and the challenge in her question. This wasn’t what he wanted for this evening. Not at all. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  “No,” he answered. His hands tightened into fists at his side. He needed to get control of what was happening before shit got ugly. “But I need to sit down.”

  She took his hand and squeezed. “It’ll be okay.” Gently pulling him, she turned and headed for the rear of the terrace where darkness and shadows hung. Getting his uncooperative legs moving took more effort than it should. Dismayed that his phantom agony would choose this occasion to rear its angry head, Cal followed with an unsteady limp.

  ’‘tessa maneuvered them into the shadows and found a secluded corner with a huge potted tree that helped block them from the curious. Relief washed through him as she moved him around until his ass rested against the ornamental stone balustrade and he could relax.

  Dropping her bag on the edge of a huge planter, she surprised the holy fuck out of him by stepping into his space to box him in. It was a move he knew well since he used it on her all the time. What sent his surprise skyrocketing to astonishment were her hands on the buttons of his vest followed by the sudden lifting of his shirt from the waistband of his pants. Deftly unbuttoning just the bottom few, she made enough room to slide her hands from his waist around to his back. Cal was pretty sure he stopped breathing. That’s the only way to explain how lightheaded he felt.

  “Relax.” He felt the quiet words on the side of his face as she came even closer. Her gentle hands were rubbing small circles on either side of his spine. He felt a tingling sensation and then heat when she pressed her fingers into his flesh. Cal went rigid as bolts of lightning shot upwards into the back of his neck. Releasing a pained grunt, he was mortified when his upper body began to tremble and shake. In another thirty seconds, he was going to break down sobbing in her arms if she kept this up.

  “Breathe with me, Ty. Nice, slow, deep breaths. Don’t fight what you feel. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  On a deep inhale, he breathed her in. Instead of the usual warm vanilla and coconut scent he expected, she smelled of a subtle perfume with seductive undertones that short-circuited his brain. It reminded him of the Eternal City. Ancient, mysterious, tantalizing.