The Wingman Read online

  “How long have you lived here?” he asks.

  “Just a year. It’s close to the hospital.” I open the door, and as soon as I do, Peaches lets out a loud meow.

  “Whoa,” Rider says, the cat giving him a fright.

  “Sorry, I should have warned you. Rider, meet Peaches.”

  “Your cat’s name is Peaches.” I flick the light on and my tabby lifts her tail and saunters around me.

  “Can you think of a better one?” Rider scratches his head, but Peaches stops in front of him and hisses. “She can be a little bit of a princess at times,” I say. “She doesn’t love new people, but she’ll warm up once she gets used to you.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  I chuckle at that and turn the lights on as we make our way down the hall. I glance over my shoulder to see Rider checking the place out.

  “Drink?” I ask.

  “Sure. Cold beer if you have one.”

  “You bet. I always keep Dad’s favorites on hand,” I say and open the fridge. I pull out a Dead Man’s Brew, and hand it to him. “Double IPA,” I say.

  “A girl who knows her beer. That’s a way to a man’s heart you know,” he jokes and takes a long pull. “Your father has good taste.” He takes another mouthful and I stand there for a second, watching his throat work, but my gaze leaves his face, tracks down his hard body. Eye candy, that’s what he is, and could likely charm an angry bear with a toothache. Honestly, Rider is hotter than any man has a right to be, and he’s standing here in my kitchen. So, what am I going to do about that? Before I can stop myself, I glance down, examine his crotch. Every nerve in my body comes alive, and it’s all I can do to fill my lungs. He clears his throat and my gaze flies to his.

  “Ah,” I say, my knees threatening to buckle as a tremble quakes through me. “Yeah, I think I’ll have wine.”

  What the hell? Not only was I checking out his package, he caught me in the damn act. Friends don’t do that, right? It’s a question I can’t answer, considering I’ve never had a guy friend before. I pop open the cork on a bottle of white, pour a generous amount into a glass and take a much-needed drink. I swallow, but it catches in my throat when Rider closes the distance between us. His heat and energy reach out to me and when he says my name, a low growl rumbling in the room, his hot breath tickles the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

  “Jules…”

  “Yeah?” I practically choke out as the warmth of his breath seeps under my skin and travels all the way to the needy juncture between my legs. My body heats, reminding me I haven’t been with a man in a long time. Although, a man like Rider… well, I’ve never been with anyone like him before.

  “You can check me out if you want to,” he murmurs.

  A strange, garbled sound catches in my throat. How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? “I…” I begin, and stop when his knuckles brush against the back of my neck. His fingers close around my pony tail, and he tugs. “But…but we’re just friends,” I remind him. Lame, Jules. Really lame. With my brain barely functioning I can’t seem to think straight, and if he tugs on my hair again, I might just turn around and tear off his clothes.

  “Friends who aren’t having any luck in the wingman, or wingwoman, department.”

  “True,” I say, and he comes closer, until his chest is against my back. His heart drums against my body, matching the fast tempo of mine. I shift from one foot to the other, and suck in a fast breath when his erection—his very big erection—rubs against the small of my back. I might not be his usual flavor of the week, but right now, this man wants me as much as I want him.

  Go have some fun, Jules.

  My nipples tighten in my lacy bra, and my breathing changes as Lindsay’s words circle my brain, urging me to give in to my urges. While one part of me begs me to go for it—I haven’t had an orgasm without the use of batteries in…ever—the other part of me is a bit apprehensive. Is this too soon? Will it ruin this budding friendship?

  I bet he could bring you to orgasm.

  “Maybe we could help each other out until we find suitable partners?” he says, his other hand tracing down my neck, lingering on my shoulder.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “You and me. Nothing serious. You’re not into hook-ups and that’s cool, but I just thought maybe for tonight we could be friends with…benefits.”

  As soon as the words leave his mouth, old fears burst like a damn and my entire body stiffens. Rider’s hand instantly stills on my body.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Rider,” I say, and spin around. Deep gray eyes meet mine, and the desire I see reflected there does the strangest things to me. Before I can help myself, I blurt out, “I’m not very good at this.”

  He frowns, and angles his head. “Good at what?” I look down, but his rough thumb captures my chin and lifts it until we’re eye to eye. “What is it, Jules?”

  The genuine concern in his voice gives me the courage to go on. “This…” I say, and wave my hand back and forth between the two of us.

  “Being friends?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

  “I’m not explaining this right,” I say, finding it hard to think with clarity as his heat envelopes me.

  “Hey,” he says. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. We’re still friends. We can eat grilled cheese and watch a movie.”

  My heart misses a beat. I totally love how sweet and thoughtful he is, and that he’s putting zero pressure on me. His words wrap me in a blanket of comfort and safety, and that’s something I’ve not experienced in a very, very long time. Or maybe even ever.

  “Jason—”

  “Wait, who?” he asks and backs up. I reach for his hand, pull him back to me.

  “He’s my ex.” Rider relaxes, and his body bumps mine as I tug him closer. “He was kind of a jerk.”

  “Is that who you were talking about at the bar?”

  “Yeah. He sort of did a number on me.” I give a fast shake of my head. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.” I blink up at him. “Actually, I do.” I want him to know he’s suggesting sex with a woman who can’t let go—can’t orgasm.

  “I’m listening.”

  “He…he basically said I was bad at sex.”

  Rider curses under his breath. “Where does he live?”

  Wow, who knew this man would be so territorial, or that I’d love that about him? I laugh, but it comes out rough around the edges, heavily saturated with arousal. “While I appreciate the gesture, I’m over him.”

  Those astute gray eyes study me. “Actually, I don’t think you are.”

  “No, I am.” I blink rapidly and nod in an effort to convince him. “Really. I promise.”

  “No, Jules. What I mean is you’re not over what he said to you. Give me a chance I’ll fix it.”

  “Fix what?”

  He slides a hand around my waist and tugs me against him, hard. I might be a strong, independent woman, but this alpha act and how damp it’s making my panties doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “I can guarantee you the problem was his, not yours.”

  I bite my lip, and shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. Look, I just…I have a hard time relaxing and giving up control, you know.”

  His eyebrow shoots up. “Because of Jason—”

  “No,” I say flatly and don’t elaborate. Jason shattered my confidence in the bedroom, but he wasn’t wrong. I do hold back. I don’t fully let go. But that stems from my first love—my first loss—Brett. I slam the doors on those memories, not wanting them to invade and break this intimate moment between us.

  His eyes move over my face, and I see many questions lingering there. “You don’t have to tell me who hurt you, or why you’re guarded. It’s okay. That’s your business. But…” He places his palm on my cheek, his fingers so warm against my skin. “I can build a safe place for you in the bedroom, a place where you can feel free to let go, no judgement, just
acceptance, if that’s what you want.”

  My heart pinches in my too-tight chest. Is this man for real? Rider wants to take care of me? The offer is a simple one, but not simple at all. My whole life I’ve been the one to take care of others, but I’m afraid. After Brett’s death, I’ve been too afraid to let go, too afraid to…live.

  “Why?” is all I can seem to ask.

  “We’re friends, and friends take care of each other.” The truth in his words, the warmth they create in my soul, wrap around me and squeeze tight. I stare at the man, and something inside me shifts.

  “Rider.”

  “Yeah,” he asks.

  I try to look away but he holds my chin and doesn’t let me. No, this man, for some reason, is making me stare all my demons in the face. “I’ve never…”

  The crease between his eyebrow deepens. “You never had an orgasm?”

  “Well, yeah, I have but just not…”

  “Just not with a guy?” I nod and he continues with, “That’s going to change tonight.”

  “Ego much?” I tease, as my pulse pounds in my ears, praying it’s true. I tried so hard with my ex, but I always tensed up, unable to just let myself go and enjoy.

  “I can back it up,” he teases, his words meant to put me at ease, and they do. I laugh, but it dies a sudden death.

  “Friends. That’s all we can ever be,” I state, needing him to know this before we go one step further.

  “I know,” he says, and his brow knits together as a wave of darkness moves over his face. “It’s all I can do too, Jules.”

  My throat tightens, and I swallow against the pain. This man is damaged. We both are, and now that we both know where the other stands, what to expect, and what not to…

  “A safe place, somewhere I can let go. It’s what I want,” I say, answering his long-ago question as I wrap my arms around his neck. His mouth instantly finds mine, and my lids shut as he kisses me, his tongue sliding in slowly, a gentle introduction, like he’s afraid of scaring me off. To show him how much I want this, him, I moan and deepen the kiss. It does something to him, prompts him into action.

  “Bedroom,” he murmurs, his voice ragged as he breaks the kiss. The black in his eyes bleed into the gray and I’m pretty damn certain no man has ever looked at me with such hunger. It’s fascinating…exhilarating.

  “Upstairs, second door on the right.” He scoops me up and I wrap my arms around him. He rushes, like there are flames licking at his heels, and takes the stairs two at a time. I sort of like his enthusiasm, the urgency about him. His eagerness turns me on even more. The next thing I know, we’re in my bedroom and he’s kicking the door closed.

  A smile plays on his mouth as he glances around, his eyes moving over my flower duvet, and the numerous pictures on my wall. “This room screams Jules.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to say that,” I say, and once again think about how we became fast friends. How it seems like I’ve known him so much longer.

  He shrugs. “I know enough.”

  “Well, I decorated the place myself. Things I slowly picked up over the years, and I painted the pictures.” I slide from his arms and take a step back, examining the room from his perspective. “Do you like it?” I ask and I have no idea why it’s so important to me that he does.

  “I like it. A lot. Just like I like you.” I smile at that, and he draws his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze leaves my face, slides down my body. He looks at me so long and hard, I begin to grow self-conscious. I tense a bit and he must notice the break in my composure. “You okay?” he asks.

  I love that he’s checking in with me; his concern means a lot. “I’m just…nervous. You’re you, and I’m me.”

  He takes a step closer to me, his warmth curling my toes as it wraps around me. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  He lightly touches a loose strand of hair, the hard edges of his face softening. “Jules. We’re friends. Friends are open and honest, and they share.”

  “It’s just that. I mean I get that I’m different from the other—”

  “You’re beautiful and I want you in the worst fucking way.” The deepness in his voice, the authority and conviction, swallow my words.

  I’ve never felt particularly beautiful before. Most times I downplay myself, happy to blend into the woodwork, but tonight I’m being seen—by the hottest guy on the planet—and it actually feels…empowering. A new streak of warmth and confidence moves through me, and I toy with the hem of my T-shirt.

  “When you say things like that…” I smile to let him know what it does to me.

  “You like it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, because it’s the truth. Now tell me again that you want this,” he says, his gaze locked on mine.

  Consumed with need, I say, “I want this, Rider.”

  He nods slowly and steps up to me. His hand moves to my face. “You’re safe with me, you know that, right?” I nod.

  “I know,” I says.

  “It’s hard for you to give yourself over. I understand that, and I damn well plan to treasure every inch of you. I don’t take the responsibility lightly.”

  My chest flares with need. The sweet way he’s talking to me, the gentleness in his touch seeps through me, and pushes back my apprehension.

  “Tonight, just feel, don’t think.” He murmurs the soft command into my ear, and taking control, he slides his hands down my arms, leaving goosebumps on my flesh. “I’m going to strip you naked so I can put my mouth and hands all over you. I’m going to make you feel so good, babe. You want that, right?”

  “Yes,” I hiss and his soft chuckle reverberates through me.

  “When I’m touching you, I want you to concentrate on the sensations, and nothing else.” He peels my shirt over my head and tosses it away. His nostrils flare and he bites down on his bottom lip again as my nipples poke hard against my lacy bra.

  “Please…” I say, and shock myself. I’ve never begged for anything before, but this man brings out a different side of me, an adventurous side I never knew existed.

  “I was wrong you know,” he says, as he cups my aching breasts.

  A shudder goes through me. Wrong? Has he changed his mind? “What?” I ask.

  “I said you were average.” One hand slides behind my back and with an expertise I’m not going to examine—not going to care about—he unhooks my bra. “There is nothing average about you.” My bra falls and he bends to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He draws it in deep and sucks hard. “You’re fucking perfect,” he mumbles around a mouthful of nipple.

  “My God,” I murmur, the sweet sensations going all the way to my core. I wrap my hands around his head, and rake my hands through his hair and hold him to me, never wanting him to stop, until he slides a hand down my body and unhooks my jeans.

  Ooh.

  The hiss of my zipper curls around me, and I reach for the back of his shirt, tug on it, never in my life so desperate to see a man naked. He chuckles at my urgency, momentarily pulls from my nipple, and in a move that has male written all over it, reaches over his shoulder and tugs his shirt off.

  “Oh my,” I say, my gaze tripping over all the hard grooves and valleys that define his body. I reach out, explore him with my fingertips, and he quivers under my touch. My gaze flies to his, and when I see the raw hunger in his eyes, it fills me with a strange kind of bravado. I don’t want to be a passenger on this ride, I don’t want to be afraid anymore. No, I want to touch him, explore his entire body, shamelessly take what I want.

  “I love your body,” I say and press my mouth to his chest. His soft curses reach my ears and I slide my hands around him and cup his ass. I pull him to me, loving the feel of his hard erection against my stomach. “Although I was looking forward to seeing that third nipple.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” he grumbles, his voice hoarse, his body quivering as I slide my tongue around his pale nipple.

  “No
thing about you can disappoint, Rider,” I say honestly, my mouth all over him, tasting the salty tang of his skin. I never quite enjoyed giving oral sex before, but dammit if I can’t wait to get him into my mouth.

  He grips my hair and tugs, but I refuse to move. I want my mouth everywhere. I sink lower, until I’m on my knees, and pop the button on his pants. I release the zipper, and shove his jeans and shorts out of my way. His cock pops out, catching me on the cheek, and my chuckle turns into a moan when I see pre-cum pooling on the tip of his crown. I lean forward, flatten my tongue and give a long, slow lick. I draw my tongue back into my mouth and savor the flavor.

  “Mmm,” I whisper.

  “Jules, you’re killing me.” I love that I can turn this hot alpha hockey player into a mess of want and need. He bends, puts his hands under my arms and lifts me. His hands go to my jeans, and he sinks to the floor as he drags them with him.

  “You have to know one thing about me,” he says, but it’s so hard to focus as his hot breath feathers over my flesh.

  “What?” I manage to get out as he taps my legs. I lift one at a time so he can remove my clothes, and then widen for him, offering my naked body to him in a bold move I never would have done before. I might be wide open and exposed, but I don’t have time to feel self-conscious, not when all I can think about is getting my hands on him, his on me. All thoughts leave my brain as he slides his palm between my legs, going under and higher until he reaches my sex. Deft fingers part my nether lips and I gasp as he spreads me wide. It’s a gasp of excitement, not fear.

  “In my world, ladies always come first,” he states in a voice that strokes my flesh and turns my world inside out.

  I try to speak, to say something, but his tongue is on me, circling my clit, and making me delirious with need. Every nerve in my body comes alive, hyperaware of the increasing pleasure.

  “Baby, you’re so wet. You needed this,” he says, and slides a finger into me. My body closes around his thickness, and I quiver as he finds my G-spot.

  “Rider,” I cry. “Don’t…stop, doing that,” I breathe out, and lean forward to hold on for the ride.

  “You mean this?” he asks and works his finger in and out of me, his tongue sliding languidly over my clit. “Feel good, baby?”