Wild: Wildfire by Cheyenne McCray Page A

Much more so than Jake’s masculine scent. When she was near him she felt at ease, yet she also felt wild and restless, and more than a little reckless.
    Every day Jake had shown up, any time from late afternoon to evening, depending on how his day had gone. Dee had expected—had wanted —him to take advantage of the time they’d spent together to try and get her clothes off.
    But to her surprise, and dismay he hadn’t. He wouldn’t even go in the house for a glass of iced tea when she’d offered. He’d spent time with Imp, made sure the stalls and aisles were mucked out, and asked her if there was anything else she needed help with. Then he would brush his lips across hers and go.
    Leaving her feeling so frustrated and hot for him, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Even though Jake hadn’t done more than give her chaste kisses, every minute in his presence was a form of sexual torture.
    But damn if she was going to again beg the man to fuck her.
    When she’d watched him work with Imp, gradually taming the calf, Dee couldn’t help imagining Jake’s hands on her instead. His gentle touch on her skin. His lips blazing hot trails over her breasts, his tongue seeking out her nipples.
    “Get a grip, Dee MacLeod,” she muttered as she raked the manure from Imp’s stall and into the aisle.
    Dee . It had only taken a couple of days around Jake to start thinking of herself as Dee again.
    She realized she would miss more than his masculine presence; she would miss his daily companionship. While he’d spent time with Imp, they’d talked about everything and nothing at all. Jake would share his day at work and talk about his mother and brother. She would confide in him her concerns about the rustlers, plans for upgrading the herd and breeding championship stock.
    Talking with him was easy and natural. It made her realize how immature their relationship had been ten years ago. They’d talked, yes, but their relationship had been fiery and passionate, based more on sex than substance.
    These last two weeks, about the only thing they hadn’t talked about was the future of their relationship.
    Friendship , she reminded herself.
    “Bad girl,” Jake’s deep voice rumbled behind her.
    Dee yelped and spun around, almost clobbering him with the rake. “Don’t scare me like that!” She punched him in his muscled bicep and he grinned.
    “The deal was two weeks, sweetheart.” He took the rake from her and set it aside, then placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve got one more day.”
    His stormy gaze captured her, and she felt as though she was hovering on the edge of a precipice. Just one step and she’d throw herself over.
    She swayed towards him, intoxicated by his earthy scent and potent sexuality. “My ankle’s fine,” she murmured, amazed she’d found her voice.
    He rubbed her arms through the light material of her T-shirt, setting her skin on fire, and smiled. “Humor me.”
    Oh, she’d like to humor him all right. In the barn, in broad daylight—anywhere.
    Jake brushed his lips over her hair and released her to grab the rake. Muscles in his arms and back bunched as he worked, and she barely contained a sigh.
    She frowned and moved away. While Jake worked with Imp, she busied herself brushing down Shadow. The gelding whickered his pleasure and lipped her braid. She couldn’t help glancing at Jake, watching how gentle he was with the calf.
    For the first time in the two weeks they’d spent together, they said little. It was a companionable silence, but she already missed him.
    When they were finished, Dee walked Jake to his truck. A breathtaking sunset rode the horizon, gold, pink and purple streaking the sky above the Mule Mountains.
    They stopped at the front of his truck. Dee avoided his gaze and trailed her fingers over the repaired fender. “Looks good.”
    Jake leaned against the hood and into her line of vision. “Did you get the Rover back?”
    “Yeah. The body shop did a great