To Claim a Wilde. Kimberly Kaye Terry

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СКАЧАТЬ as he was ready to turn away and settle his tab, his glance caught that of a woman who stood near her seat at one of the small round high tables, near the bar. He hadn’t noticed her before.

      She turned to fully face him and their gazes collided. In the act of removing her jacket, she paused, the garment dangling from her fingers. For a long moment she stood there, simply staring at him with her large doe-shaped eyes.

      From where she and the woman with her sat, in one of the few well-lit areas and a small distance from where he was, Canton could see her clearly.

      Unlike the leggy blonde in the tight red dress and stilettos, she wore a pair of skinny jeans that molded round hips and a plump butt, and ended where she wore knee-high boots.

      The shirt she had on beneath the jacket was simple, but man oh man what it did for her curves. Made of some type of clinging material she’d only partially buttoned, the opened collar dipped to a pair of truly beautiful, full breasts, the crests overflowing the top of her bra, just a bit. He wasn’t close enough to get a really good look, but dear God... His glance slid over her, seeing how she’d tucked the ends of the shirt into her jeans, showing off a nicely nipped-in waist.

      He raised his glance, back up the length of her body until he reached her beautiful round face.

      But it was her eyes that got him.

      Large, and from his distance appeared light brown, or maybe it was just the dance of light that hit them that made them so. Either way, they had a slight tilt in the corner. A small round nose and full, luscious lips that, along with the shape of her eyes, gave her the appearance of a sulky child.

      Her pretty cocoa-brown-colored skin reminded him of silken, rich, decadent dark chocolate... Canton wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked. His palms itched to find out. His fingers rubbed against his palms.

      Her hair was swept on top of her head in a topknot of some sort, but ringlets of light brown curls framed her heart-shaped face, giving her even more of a look of a pouting adolescent.

      Again, his gaze swept over her body.

      But any hint of a childlike appearance was negated by her body. She had a body that could raise the dead.

      He lifted his glance to meet her sultry eyes and felt his breath hitch and lodge in his throat.

      She returned his gaze.

      First, she bit the corner of her mouth, as though in deep thought, before tugging on the full bottom lip and finally letting it go.

      Canton could not look away.

      Goddamn.

      Their glances held for what seemed like forever.

      Then moments later, she smiled as though she’d come to some decision.

      Timidly at first. One side of those ripe, full lips of hers lifted, slowly. Then the other.

      Then it grew.

      Naked of any color, besides a shine of gloss on her full lips, her smile was breathtaking. And damned if Canton could look away. No one, ever, had captivated him the way this woman had with just one look. A mutual exchange of nothing more than a glance and a smile.

      He felt an answering grin lift the corners of his own mouth, upward.

      Canton hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time.

      He felt...light, happy for no damn reason on earth besides looking at her.

      His body hardened, every thing about him focused on her. His cock thumped against his zipper, hardening, reacting to her.

      As though she knew his thoughts, her eyes dipped for a moment in a charming display of shyness before reconnecting with his, her pretty full smile still in place. The effect on his body was unlike anything.

      His cock hardened to pain, but Canton welcomed it as though it were a homecoming of sorts.

      Beneath the bright light, Canton could have sworn he saw color blossom on her cheeks. As though she knew what she had done to him.

      The little vixen, he thought, as a laugh escaped his mouth.

      She was his.

      Right then, right there, he decided.

      It made no sense, no rhyme or reason.

      If he weren’t so focused on her, he’d think of what Ray would say, think, if he knew.

      Probably that Canton had lost his mind. Moments before, he’d assured his friend the last thing on his mind was a woman, one-night stand or otherwise.

      He hadn’t lied.

      In a blink of an eye, fate had something else in mind.

      He felt it in his gut. His Wilde instinct.

      His family were firm believers and followers of the Wilde instinct. An instinct their pop had trained them, from childhood onward, to believe in and follow.

      The Wilde instinct was a part of their DNA as much as the height and blue eyes all the Wilde men shared.

      That same Wilde instinct told him in the far recesses of his mind to get out now, if he wasn’t ready. Now, before it was too late.

      He placed the empty beer bottle behind him, blindly, never losing eye contact with the woman.

      He was ready. He’d never been so ready in all of his life.

      * * *

      “Girl, come on, loosen up, let’s have fun! But that can’t happen if you keep turning your nose up like that!” Alyssa Thomas groused to her best friend, Naomi McBride, as soon as the skimpily clad, weary-looking waitress placed their drinks in front of them, collected the money and left.

      “And for the love of God, please, take that jacket off! I swear if you fiddle with the buttons one more time...just one more time—”

      “What? What will you do?” Naomi challenged.

      Alyssa narrowed her eyes. “I’m gonna fight you like a man!”

      That made Naomi laugh, as it had been Alyssa’s favorite threatening phrase since they were children.

      She snorted, shooting Alyssa a glance. “Really? And how long have you been threatening me with that?” she said and both young women erupted into laughter, remembering.

      They’d been friends from childhood, ever since Naomi had stood up for Alyssa to the school bully. Not by fighting, but with her words, something Naomi was very good at doing.

      At the end of her sophisticated tirade against the bully—well, she’d thought it sophisticated at the ripe old age of seven—the bully looked as though she were about to go “in” on both her and Alyssa, not impressed at all with Naomi’s serious words.

      So Naomi, with her young face set, hands on hips, told the bully that she’d “fight her like a man” if she ever looked like СКАЧАТЬ