Primal Instinct by Tara Wyatt

Author:Tara Wyatt
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2016-05-31T04:00:00+00:00

Around one, the crowd began to thin at the Brass Monkey. After ensuring that everyone had a safe ride home, whether by cab, hired car, limo, or otherwise, Colt led a very tipsy Taylor to where he’d parked the Charger around back, away from the prying lenses of any paparazzi.

He’d tried to cut her off about an hour ago, subtly suggesting that maybe just a Coke without the Jack might be a good idea. She’d shot him a haughty look and ordered another drink. However, despite the number of drinks she’d consumed, she’d behaved herself all night, not causing any trouble. The worst thing she’d done was boo Roman off the stage after the terrible rendition of Madonna’s “Holiday” he’d sung, trying to impress Chloe. And even then, she’d only been joking and teasing, not meaning any real harm. Taylor had gone back up onstage once more and she and Sierra had led the bar in a sing-along of “Summer Nights” from Grease. Colt had smiled so hard through the whole thing that his cheeks had ached by the time the song finished. Taylor, playing Danny, and Sierra, playing Sandy, had been pretty adorable up there, singing to each other and encouraging the entire bar to join in.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked as he held open the passenger’s-side door for Taylor. She took a step toward him.

“Shhhhhhhh,” she whispered, and sloppily pressed her right index finger against his lips, smushing them together in a smeary motion. “You’re so pretty.”

“O-kay,” he said with a chuckle, stepping back and gently guiding her into the car. She tumbled in with a laugh, her eyes bright in the semidarkness.

“So pretty.” She sighed and curled into the seat.

Making sure her long legs were safely tucked in, he closed the door and jogged around to the other side. Dropping into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at her. To make sure she wasn’t puking in the Charger. Not because he couldn’t ever seem to keep his eyes off her for more than a few torturous seconds at a time.

“Did you have fun tonight?” she asked, swiveling her head around in a lazy semicircle to look at him. “I made you sing.” She leaned toward him, as if confiding some deep, dark secret. “And you were really, really good.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Well, thank you. I like singing. There was usually a karaoke machine kicking around on base, so I’ve had some practice. That being said, maybe we should cool it on the pranks, given everything that’s going on with your dad, and your stalker.”

“Ha! So you’re conceding defeat in the prank war?”

“Hey, now. Didn’t say that.”

She blew out a breath, making a raspberry sound. “Please. Prince Sparklepants? Strippers? I totally win.” Before he could reply, she charged ahead on a completely different path. “Let’s go to 7-Eleven!” She clapped her hands together enthusiastically.

“For what?”

She shot him a puzzled glare as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto Wilshire Boulevard. “For a burrito.

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