Wicked & Wildflower (Pacific Shores, #2)

by Sarah A. Bailey

watch as his camera turns around, and I’m suddenly met with his intimidating length. Strong, muscular thighs are partially covered by a dark blue blanket,

cock—so massive, I’m unable to believe it...

is standing erect, his beautiful, tattooed hand fisting his length hard and fast. “Do you see this, Dahlia? This is all you, baby. Only you on my mind every ti...

slowly lower my hand between my legs and dip two fingers inside myself, curving them to hit just the right spot on my innermost wall, pressing my palm against my clit. “That’s right, baby. Show...

“You already know wha...

“You mean when I bent you in half and fucked you against that door?”

I let out a hum, watching both our hands as they pick up speed,

“But next time, I’m going to do so much more than just fuck you, Wildflower. I’m going to make you forget your own name, forget how to walk straight, forget anything except what it feels like to be filled by me. I’...

press my hand harder against my clit, increasing the pressure at the center of my thighs as I pump into my core, curling my fingers and hitting the spot I know will make me explode. “Then,” Everett continues, voice strained as he gri...

you until you’re screaming my name, until you squirt all over my co...

feel the building pressure break, feel the climax pool in my hand as I pull out of myself. My toes curl, my vision goes nearly black, but I keep my eyes on the mirror as I bring my fingers to my clit and flick rapidly, guiding myself through my orgasm. I watch my release spill out between my thighs and soak the floor beneath me, watch my flushed, glowing cheeks, and hooded, hazed eyes. I drop my hand to reveal parted lips, legs spre...

I only feel the pleasure, the sound of his breathing, and the words he whispers in my ear, though I’m past comprehending them. “Fuck, Dal. Fuck. Fuck.” My eyes dart sideways, catching the screen of my phone just in time to watch him pump his cock once more, his own climax ripping through him.

The sight of it nearly sends me into another spiral, wishing that it was covering my tongue. Across my chest. Dripping out of me.

“Do you believe me now when I tell you how beautiful you are?” I can’t hide the tilt of my lips. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re so beautiful, Dahlia. So fucking pretty, sometimes I can’t believe it.” “Everett,”

“Say thank you, Wildflower. Then you can go to sleep.” “Thank you.”

“Go to sleep, Dal.”

I want to keep feeling his presence. I don’t want to be alone. “Can you stay?” “Yeah, baby. I can stay.” His quiet breathing sends me into sleep.

I just couldn’t take my eyes off you.

“I’m going to buy myself an impractical car I can drive just for fun. Something with no top. No child safety features. Something that doesn’t need to accommodate anyone but myself.” “If you ever want to drive mine, Dal, you’re more than welcome.”

“I’m not sure I’m a Jeep gal.” I raise my brow. “You a motorcycle gal?”

“I’m not sure I care enough to get a license and learn all that.”

“I’ll take you for a ride any time you want, baby.”

“You can drive a motorcycle?” “I’ve got a 1983 Triumph Bonneville sitting pretty in my garage right now.”

I don’t get her out nearly enough, though.”

Y yo? ¿Estoy pintado o qué?”

“I think we’re both second-best when it comes to the three of them,”

“You know Spanish?” Da...

“I can understand it. Can’t really spea...

“What do you think you’re doing?” My mother flicks his ear as she bumps him out of the way with a hip and begins filling the spa...

“...

“I trained for two hours this morning. I need a snack.” Mom rolls her eyes. “You can wait until...

“Everyone else isn’t a profession...

“Oh shit, what are those?”

“Fuck no. Those are min—” I reach out to grab the plate, but not before he swipes a donut and spins, barreling out of the kitchen doorway and back into the living room.

“He’s insufferable,” I mutter.

“You’re the one who brought him home,” Mom agrees. “I heard that!”

“Everyone not cooking can clear out. We’ve got work to do.” She

“Potato peeling.” She looks at Dal. “Are you still making the pies?” She smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Out. We need the space. And send in my little helper!” She shouts loud enough that Lou will hear her anyway. “What if I want to help too?”

“Dios mío” before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Never in your life have you offered to help with Thanksgiving dinner.”

Dahlia reaches on her toes and digs through a cupboard, pretending like she’s not listening and hiding t...

press in behind her, lifting an arm to grab what she’s looking for. She sighs, falling back on her heels, which puts her body flush against mine.

know her body too well to be this close to it and not garner a reaction. Not only have I touched it, felt it, been inside of it, but seeing her touch herself on FaceTime those weeks ago? Fuck.

I lost my fucking mind watching her come undone at my command, at the soft, quiet whimpers of my name from her lips and the way she looked spread, bared, and naked in front of that mirror.

There is no way I can feel the press of her tight ass against me now, knowing it’s the same body I’m so fucking desperate for, and not get hard. With my fucking parents in the kitchen, no less.

“Sorry,” I murmur. “No worries,” she whispers.

“Boston Cream. And pumpkin.” I let out a low laugh. “Do you need help with that cream pie, Wildflower?”

“No. No, no.”

“Whatever you two do behind closed doors is none of my business, but I’m not going to spend my family holiday listening to you make cream pie references and take seductive glances at each other.”