Page 5 of The Wild Man

A loud buzzing sound fills my ear seconds before there’s a sharp sting on my arm. I slap my bicep, feeling the squish of the bug beneath my palm. So much for the bug spray I used earlier. I scrub my hand on my shorts, wiping away the bug guts.

Rika wasn’t lying when she said I don’t like the outdoors. Well, I do like it. I just hate the inconveniences that come with it; like bugs. I hate bugs.

Making sure the straps of my backpack are secure on my shoulders, I turn to make my way to Wild Man’s bathing pool. I don’t get fully turned around before I’m smacking into a solid wall.

A solid wall that has firm muscles and smells like pure male. A delicious scent that has moisture pooling back into my mouth.

What does one do when they bump into something? They throw their hands up to catch themselves. And of course, that’s exactly what I do.

My nails dig into the tanned and firm muscles that my hands rest against. The muscles twitch, and I swear my heart lurches at the same time.

My eyes are pinpointed on the center of Wild Man’s bare chest, right between the delicious dip of his very defined pecs.

I should probably look up, but I’m finding it difficult to do so. I’m still very much enjoying where my eyes are currently pointed.

I’m in big fucking trouble here. If his chest is this mesmerizing and looking at him from fifty feet away had me drooling like an idiot, there’s no telling what condition I’ll be in when I look him directly in the eyes.

I give myself a firm mental talking to and an imaginary slap on the side of my head.

Act professional, Ever. This is no more and no less than a job. You’ve got this. Be cool.

I search for and locate my proverbial big girl panties and pull them up. Taking a deep fortifying breath, I tilt my head back. Way back, because the man towers over me by at least a foot. My eyes clash with a pair so black, it’s like looking into an empty void. Thick lashes frame the black orbs. I can’t tell if he feels nothing, or if he’s just damn good at hiding it.

He just stares at me with no indication of what he’s thinking. No curiosity. No animosity. No intrigue. Absolutely nothing.

I clear my throat, briefly wondering if I should have taken better heed of Dad’s and Rika’s warnings.

Did I make a mistake coming out here? Did my foolish curiosity of learning more about Wild Man earn me a one-way ticket to my deathbed?

My brothers always said my innate need to know things was going to get me in big trouble one day. It’s going to suck if I have to hear I told you so for the rest of my life.

That is, if I’m around for them to taunt me with it.

Something tells me the gun and taser on my hip may not do me any good with Wild Man so close.

“Hi.” I mentally wince when the word comes out a squeak.

Wild Man says nothing. He doesn’t even so much as twitch a single muscle.

He’s so close that I feel the hot air of his breath fanning across my face. Surprisingly, his breath doesn’t stink. Considering he’s lived on his own in the wild since he was a young child, I assumed dental hygiene isn’t something he remembers or even has the means to keep up with. If I’m not mistaken, I believe I smell a hint of mint.

With his head tilted down, his eerie dark eyes bore into me. They leave chills popping up on my arms and cause my heart to race an uneven beat. His lips, behind the scruff of his beard, are full and a deep shade of red. I didn’t notice before because he was so far away, but his hair isn’t just black, it almost has a hint of blue in it.

I blink away my mesmerized state and bring my attention back to the reason I’m here. To get information. To learn this man’s story. To uncover the secrets surrounding Wild Man.

I open my mouth to introduce myself, but the words get stuck in my throat. They literally get stuck, because Wild Man wraps one of his big hands around my neck and tightens his fingers so much that I barely manage to draw in air to breathe, let alone speak.

I’m pushed backward until I’m forced against a tree, my backpack digging into my skin. I arch my spine when Wild Man dips his face closer to mine. My hand twitches to reach for my gun, but I hold off for the moment. He’s not fully cutting off my air supply, just merely holding me in place.

He may have not shown his interest, but he’s got to be just as curious about me as I am about him.

Even so, I slowly bring my hand up and wrap my fingers around his wrist. His eyes slightly narrow and he tightens his hold even more. I barely refrain from pulling at his hand. I get the feeling if I struggle, it’ll agitate him, and that’s the last thing I want to do.

I slowly drop my hand, keeping my eyes on him for his reaction. He gives none, except to loosen his hold a fraction.

Then, all of a sudden, he drops his head and his face goes to my neck. I don’t know why, but I tilt my head to the side, which stupidly gives him easier access to whatever he’s doing.

What in the hell is he doing?