Free Ugly Ducklings Finish First by Stacy Gail

just said is a massive load of bullshit. And if you believe it, you’re not as smart as I give you credit for.”
    “Amazingly enough, I don’t give a damn what you think.” With the desperate need to escape pounding away at her—though she convinced herself it was anger—Payton surged to her feet. “Thanks loads for lunch, Coyote. Let’s do it again next reunion.”
    She didn’t get far, and she supposed in retrospect she was stupid to think she would. The hand that clamped around her arm as she moved onto the river’s crowded pathway was stronger than she’d expected. Her headlong momentum swung her in a wide arc back into him, and the raw force of their bodies colliding startled her. Out of reflex she opened her mouth, but she never had a chance to make a sound as his lips came down squarely over hers.
    A wild shiver shook her. She couldn’t help it. Nor could she stand that he had to have felt it. But when he held her as if pulling her against him with all his strength would somehow fuse them together, she couldn’t hide anything from a man as experienced at love games as Wiley.
    His body was tensed, as solid as a brick wall, and it surrounded her with everything that was unabashedly male. The force of their bodies coming together stole her breath, but it was his mouth’s avid hunger that melted her from the inside out. His lips were bold and knowing, his taste addictive even as his mouth made love to hers with consummate skill. It was a skill she wanted to match with a recklessness she’d never felt before, overpowered by the need to give him a sampling of what it was to be overwhelmed. But even as she tried, Payton was the one falling under the spell of luscious sensation. The feel and flavor of him was more devastating than her greatest fantasies, and she was left wondering if she could die from something as simple as a kiss.
    A whimper of dazed pleasure whispered from her, no louder than a breath, but somehow he heard it. She knew he had, because a tremor rocked his body as though something wild suddenly escaped its tether. He broke away to pull her out of the flow of pedestrian traffic and into a deserted arched alleyway between a restaurant and an apartment building.
    Her brain tried to sputter back to life. “Wiley, wait—”
    His mouth silenced her as he pushed her back against the cool stone facade of the restaurant, a hungry conquering that was wordless and absolute. The firm press of his lips enticed hers to open, and when the hot silk of his tongue stroked against hers in a shivery caress, her very bones seemed to liquefy under the sensual assault. Lush pleasure bloomed like a drug, filling her with a sweet lassitude even as it made her greedy for more. She nuzzled her lips against his until their fit was perfect, a sensual melding of satin against steel, and she relished his nearly soundless moan of delighted approval. The sensation of his chest pressing against the sensitive cushion of her breasts was so intimate—so right —it was almost enough to make her forget where they were, who they were. Who he was.
    The Coyote.
    Player.
    Heartbreaker.
    They were both fighting for breath when Payton turned her head just enough to break the contact. With the imprint of his mouth throbbing like a brand on hers, reality crystallized around her with painful clarity.
    She’s kissed him. After all these years, she’d finally kissed Wiley Sharpe.
    Damn her idiotic self for wanting to do so much more than just kiss him.
    Her knees shook as she stepped sideways against the wall and away from him. “Wow.”
    Something like a laugh rocked out of him. “Yeah. Wow.”
    “That was...” Mind-blowing. Life-altering. Bordering on a religious experience . “Interesting.”
    “Interesting? It felt like more to me.” His eyes turned ravenous. “A lot more.”
    “So speaks Bitterthorn’s premiere playboy.” She couldn’t have stopped the words if her life depended on it. But bottom-lining it, that’s what