Title: Captured by Mr. Wild
Series: Men #4
Author: Elle Nicoll
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Abigail, Pink Ink Designs
Release Date: March 8, 2022
There are men. And then there’s Blake Anderson.
He was my best friend.
Until I left.
Ten years apart have turned him into a handsome, rugged, tattooed wall of muscle.
He even has his own fan club, following the success of his smash-hit TV survival show.
They call him Mr. Wild.
One night he shows me just how wild.
For a moment, I almost believe in magic again.
But those years away have changed me too.
I’m not the girl he once knew.
I thought escaping my past would stop me from feeling trapped.
What if being captured by Mr. Wild is the only thing that can set me free?
The first roll of thunder sounds in the distance, its deep rumble echoing off the rock ledges and down the valley behind us.
“I hope you don’t mind getting wet,” I call to Daisy who’s ahead of me on the trail path.
It’s perfect really; I’ve had a front-row seat to the show her gorgeous round ass is giving me in those tiny shorts she put on this morning after we stopped by her house to get her a change of clothes.
She didn’t want to take me up on my suggestion of naked hiking.
“I think we’ll make it, Blake. Think positive.” She speeds up on the path ahead as her words strike a heated torch to life in my chest.
It sounds so much more like her than most of the things she’s said since she came back here. I knew she hadn’t changed. Not deep down.
“I hate to rain on your parade—literally.” I grin as my eyes roam over her ass again. “But I think you’re wrong. W. R O. N. G.”
She shakes her head as she walks on. “And I think you’re—” She doesn’t get to finish whatever she was about to say as the heavens open and sheets of rain hammer down over us. The small positive snippet is that it’s quite refreshing in the hot, summer air.
“Blake!” she squeals, breaking into a run to reach the more sheltered area of the nearby trees.
“Stop! We’re on a slope. This path is just going to turn to mud. You’ll slip!” I shout.
It’s no use, though. The rain is battering us, along with the sounds of the nearing thunder vibrating the surrounding air.
She can’t hear me.
“Dee!” I yell again. But she’s farther down the path now, her white t-shirt see-through and sticking to her body. Betsy’s got much further ahead, and I can make out her dark form in the treeline, waiting for us. “Wait up!”
The next thing I see is a flash of white followed by a startled scream as Daisy slips and slides down what is now a stream of muddy sludge flowing down the path. I do the exact thing I told her not to do and run to get to her. When I catch up, she’s lying on her back, face toward the sky with a huge grin on her face.
“You okay down there?” I rest my hands on my knees, laughing as water runs off my nose and eyelashes.
“I think I bruised my butt, Blake.” She laughs. “But I’m good.”
“Come on.” I hold my hand out to her and she wraps her wet, mud-coated fingers around mine.
I peel her off the ground and there’s a squelching pop when she’s freed from the mud pie she’d effectively landed in.
She stands in front of me, hair soaked, mud covering her, streaks over her face, her clothes ruined. But the light in her eyes makes her look more beautiful than ever as she gazes up at me, raindrops dripping down her face.
“Dee, let’s get you—"
She places a finger against my lips, her eyes fixed on mine. Then she slides her arms around my neck, rising onto her toes, and crashes her lips against mine. Her kiss is frantic and urgent, and I can taste mud on her lips. But I couldn’t give a shit. I kiss her back, sliding my tongue into her mouth and fisting my hands in her hair as the rain falls around us, thunder bellowing in our ears.
She presses her body against mine and despite our clothes being soaked through; the heat radiating off her seeps into my chest as I hold her against me.
“Blake,” she pants, looking up at me, her eyes shining.
Bright blue and full of desire and need.
“Fuck, do you know what you do to me when you look at me like that?”
I press my erection into her torso. I’m raring to go. Blood rushes to my ears—what’s left of it, anyway. I think it’s almost all gone to my cock, which is throbbing out a beat in my pants.
A flash lights the sky behind us, accompanied by another clap of thunder, stinging the surrounding air.
I take my hands out of her hair and clasp her hand tightly in mine.
“We’ve got to go, babe. We don’t want to be out when the lightning reaches here.”
Elle Nicoll is a British, ex long-haul flight attendant and mum of two.
She writes sweet, but dirty, contemporary romance novels, all based around love.
Not all the men she writes will be rich alphas. Not all the women will be sassy. Just like we are all different, they will be too.
But she hopes they will feel real. Flawed, insecure, broken maybe. But also warm, considerate and loyal. Any elements that you think of when you consider the people you know.
Because no one is perfect.
When Elle isn't writing or falling for another new book boyfriend she is trying to look like a parent who knows what they're actually doing. That, or staring at the sky day-dreaming and running another book idea by her husband, who has perfected his 'listening with interest' face.
It means the world to Elle that you're considering reading her stories, and she loves to hear from readers.
Find her at www.ellenicollauthor.com