Big Man’s Claim, Wylder, Penny [accelerated reader books TXT] 📗

Jenna starts to pick up the kit, keeping her eyes down. “It's nothing, Mel, just rumors. You know how that works around here.”

“Please,” I beg, laying my head back as I groan. “Will somebody please just tell me? I mean, I think I have the right to know, the guy did just save my life.”

“Fine,” Ryder groans. “Supposedly, Branson is a loner, like an extreme loner, who hates people. From what I heard he had a child and a wife, but he left them. He's a deadbeat, a guy who doesn't want anything to do with his kid or estranged wife.”

My jaw hangs open, eyes wide. He never mentioned anything about having a child. Actually, the more I think about it, he didn't say much at all about his personal life. I was the one who spilled my guts.

“He never mentioned any of that. He was really nice to me.” My voice is quiet and weak. I don't want to sound hurt, but I know my brother can sense something.

“Stay away from him, Mel. He's not sane, there's something wrong with a guy who walks away from their kid. I don't want you near him.”

“I literally just met the guy and you're acting like I'm going to run off with him.”

My brother's eyes zero in on mine. “Stay away from him.” The tone of his voice sparks a nerve. I know he's looking out for me, but he doesn't need to talk to me like I can't make my own decisions.

“You can't tell me what to do. I'm eighteen. I'm an adult now. I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Jenna rests her hand on my shoulder, chiming in. “You don't want a guy like him anyway. He's a hermit, Mel. An angry, people hating hermit. Maryanne refers to him as the town Grinch.” She giggles, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “But I'm glad he was there to rescue you. He did a good thing.” Her eyes flare as she glances at my brother, warning him to knock it off. The argument Ryder and I are about to have fizzles out with her glare.

Something inside me shatters. The person they're describing is not the man I met in the woods. To think of him as a child abandoning asshole hurts my heart. I know it sounds crazy. I don't know him at all. He's still a stranger to me, obviously. But the night we shared together can’t be ignored. It may have been just sex, but I felt like I knew him.

The butterflies I felt were his. The tingles and chills were his. The flutter in my chest and warmth on my skin were all his. And now I don't know what to think.

I felt like there was something between us. I felt deep inside that we shared something special. My mind let me think that maybe, just maybe, our night would unfold into something more.

It's a lie. All of it is a lie.

Branson James is not the man I thought he was.

My eyes fall to my hands in my lap as my body rolls forward. “I'm going to take a bath,” I say, using the table to stand.

Ryder jumps from his chair, holding his arms out like I'm a baby learning to walk.

“I got it, Ryder,” I snap. He gives me a look but steps out of the way to let me pass.

I can't explain this to him. He'll never understand. And he'll probably try to go find the guy and ring his neck. Ryder will think he took advantage of me. That it wasn't me who threw myself at him, but the other way around.

I can feel both of them watching me as I hobble to the stairs and climb them slowly one at a time. Looking over my shoulder, Ryder is standing at the bottom.

“I'm just here in case you lose your balance.”

Rolling my eyes, I don't say a word to him as I reach the top and head to my room for some clean clothes. Bundling them up under my arm, I limp to the bathroom. Starting the water, I wait until it's steamy and hot, then start filling the tub.

A nice bath will do the trick.

Slipping into the water, I let my leg with the bandage hang over the side. Resting my head back, I close my eyes, and try to relax. But I can't. All I can think about is Branson.

His face pops up in my mind’s eye, flashing that big, gorgeous smile and perfectly chiseled jaw. I can still feel his hands on my body, and the heat of his lips against mine.

My fingers lightly touch my mouth, reliving the night all over again. My skin burns like fire as the memory plays like a movie.

His fingers digging into my hair and yanking my head back. I can feel it.

Raking my fingers through my hair, my head rolls on my shoulders reflexively. Slowly, the tips of my fingers slip down my neck and over my chest, finding my stiff nipple.

His tongue flicking against the perk bead and sucking my breast into his mouth. I can feel it.

Pinching my nipple, I bite my bottom lip, doing my best to contain the moan that wants out. I don't let it. I'm quiet, inhaling a slow breath. My fingers keep gliding, over my naval and through my lips until I hit my clit.

His thumb pressing against the needy button as he inserts a finger inside my heat. I can feel it.

Every single way he touched me, caressed me, and devoured me, I can still feel it all.

I slide a finger inside my folds and rock my hips. Fingering myself is the only way to end the desire pooling between my legs and the throb in my center.

The water sloshes around my chest as I fuck myself. Faster and faster I work my body, thinking about the man who saved me. The man who came to my rescue. The man who