Free Wilde Rapture by Taige Crenshaw Page A

but try to convince yourself that you don’t,” was his calm reply.
    Nia stiffened. “You don’t know me.”
    “Not yet. But I plan to.” His reply dripped arrogance.
    “We don’t always get what we want,” she said.
    “Usually, I do. When you’re ready to explore, come find me.” The man straightened.
    Nia bit back a gasp. His frame towered over her own full-figured, six-foot body. He raised a hand to the side of her face. Nia waited to see what he would do. She could feel the heat of his palm, but he didn’t close that miniscule distance to actually touch her. He lowered his hand. She could imagine the feel of his long fingers on her body. Her pussy clenched, then dampened. He raised his head and inhaled deeply. Nia was grateful there was no way for him to smell her arousal through all her clothing.
    “I’ll be waiting for you.” He walked backward, away from her, his eyes locked on hers.
    Only the blue of his gaze was visible for a moment, then his lids closed over his eyes. Instinct told her he was gone. Shakily, Nia leaned on the wall. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she tried to control the shakes she was having. She raised her hand and touched the aching tips of her nipples. Glancing up, she noted that the party was still in full swing. No one seemed aware of the encounter she’d just had.
    “There you are, hiding in the corner. You’re a bridesmaid. No hiding allowed,” said a melodious voice with a lyrical accent.
    Nia quickly lowered her hands.
    “I’m not hiding, Gabe,” she said defensively.
    She had been—at least until the intriguing encounter with the man. Nia scowled, realising she didn’t even know his name.
    How the hell am I supposed to find him if I don’t know his name?
    Nia bit the inside of her cheek. Nope. She wasn’t going to try to find him. Men like him were trouble. They never understood that her job came first.
    “You are. Now make room for me.” Gabriella Kane scooted in beside her.
    Nia laughed at her friend’s antics. Gabriella leaned next to her. She plucked at her dress. Most of the bridesmaids’ dresses were pale yellow with a sweetheart neckline and lots of flounce. As maids of honour, Gabriella’s and Nia’s had the sweetheart neckline, but were A-line, complementing their full-figured frames. When they had been asked to be joint maids of honour, they had pointed out that usually there was just one. Then they’d each tried to convince the bride that the other would be better suited to the role. Gabriella and Nia were anti-social. They both preferred hanging out at one of their apartments and watching TV, reading, or chatting. Only one person could have talked them into being part of a wedding party. Nia glanced at the bride and groom dancing on the floor a little distance away.
    “Carmen looks so happy,” Nia said.
    “One of the Three Vs is married. Can you believe it?” Gabriella mused.
    Nia continued to study the radiant woman dancing with her new husband. One of the three ‘voluptuously sexies’, as Carmen had dubbed them.
    Carmen Johnson—now Thompson—was their closest friend. They had all met when they’d started their jobs at around the same time, about twelve years ago—Gabriella as a medical examiner, Carmen as an assistant district attorney and Nia as a new cop. They had all been twenty-five at the time.
    Nia smiled, remembering walking into a bar in her neighbourhood for a drink after her first shift. She’d taken a seat at a table. A woman had come in, got a drink, then wandered over to her, asking if she could have a seat. Leery, Nia had hesitated, but the woman—who had introduced herself as Carmen—had taken one anyway. Carmen had mentioned that she had spotted Nia in the neighbourhood, then later at the precinct. Nia found out they actually lived in the same private house, which had three apartments. She hadn’t met her other neighbours yet, having moved in only a few days earlier.
    While they were talking, another woman had come