Hot and Bothered - Erika Wilde Page 0,1
her and thought of one thing: sex. They’d dated her believing she’d put out and were sorely disappointed when she didn’t allow their wandering hands to make it inside her blouse or pants. Even the boy at the last foster home she’d lived at until the age of eighteen had attempted to coax her into his bed, to no avail.
Amazingly, she’d remained a virgin until two years ago, at the age of twenty-three. Her first sexual encounter had been with Chad Freeman, a coed with her at the University of Nevada, Reno, who’d pursued her for weeks, until she’d finally accepted an invitation to dinner, which led to a series of dates thereafter. When she’d finally agreed to sleep with him, believing she was ready to take that intimate step, the experience had been awkward and one-sided. And their sexual encounters failed to improve for her. Despite wanting more physically, she’d settled for less-than-fulfilling sex.
As their relationship progressed, Chad’s attitude toward her changed. He’d grown distrustful, domineering, and jealous. Anytime a man looked her way he’d comment that if she didn’t dress like a tramp she wouldn’t draw so much attention. If she gave any indication that she wanted more sexually, like an orgasm of her own, he’d tell her she was easy.
He’d been a master at mind games, and the possessive relationship had continued until she’d accepted a job as a showgirl at a Reno casino to make some extra money while going to school during the day. Chad’s temper had exploded for the first time, and after berating her for flaunting her body in front of other men, he’d demanded she quit her new job.
Done with him controlling her mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d refused his order and broken off their relationship, which only enraged him more. For the next three months he’d stalked her, threatened her, and finally attacked her one night after work. Afraid a restraining order wouldn’t stop his madness, and having no loved ones to leave behind, she’d packed up her meager belongings and abruptly moved to Oakland to start out fresh, leaving no forwarding address. She’d deleted all her social media accounts and had even opted for a prepaid cellphone that couldn’t be traced.
Her chest tightened at the awful memories, along with the wave of insecurities that had come in the aftermath of that tumultuous relationship. Diligently pushing those disturbing recollections aside as she’d done hundreds of times before, she focused on her new life in Oakland. She might lead a solitary, monotonous existence, but she was safe here. And that was all that mattered to her. Or so she tried to convince herself during long, lonely nights when she wished she had more to keep her warm than college textbooks and sensual fantasies of a certain blue-eyed, dark-haired Adonis.
But that’s all she’d have—private musings and erotic dreams of Noah, because she knew how dangerous it was to let her desires be known, to get involved and allow a man control over her mind and body. Her relationship with Chad had turned into a humiliating experience that had left her second-guessing her longing to be treated like a real woman, to enjoy her body’s response to a man’s touch.
“Yo, Earth to Natalie,” Murphy said, his deep voice penetrating her thoughts. “You’ve got drinks to deliver and the crowd’s getting restless.”
Startled that she’d allowed her mind to drift while her order sat waiting, she hustled to load up her tray. “Sorry about that, Murph,” she said, slanting him a sheepish look. “Just resting my brain for a few minutes. I had a hellish day at school today.”
He smiled, his brown eyes gentle with understanding. “I’m thinking you’re spending too much time with your head between those college psycho-babble books and not enough time taking care of yourself.”
“I’m fine and it won’t happen again,” she promised, and headed toward the lounge with her drinks before Murphy could launch into one of his well-meaning lectures about needing more of a life than work and school.
Her classes and studies were her lifeline and what kept her sane and her mind occupied, even though it was taking her longer than normal to get her degree. She honestly loved her major, which was in social work. Counseling troubled kids was her goal, and she’d even taken on part-time work at a foster-care agency over the past summer months to gain hands-on experience and further her credentials. She’d been where those foster kids were. She knew how it felt being