Temptation (Bad Angels)

by Inara Scott

  She strode past without further explanation. A short time later, she was sinking into a deep, delicious pool of steaming water fragrant with rose and honey. Candles surrounded the tub and shot flickering patterns on the walls.

  As her tight muscles relaxed, she forced her mind to do the same. This thing she had with Connor wasn’t perfect. In that sense, nothing had changed.

  The question was, could it be enough?

  …

  Connor had no idea what was going on. When Zoe had texted him, he’d steeled himself for recriminations. For hurt feelings. But then she’d appeared at his door…to use his bathtub?

  Was that a thing women did?

  It wasn’t that he’d never had a relationship. He’d had a few. Not serious ones, to be sure, but even those had ended badly enough that he knew they weren’t for him. And yet somehow he’d never gotten to the point that a woman might come over to his house just to use his tub. Frankly, he had no idea what to make of it.

  He listened to the water pouring into the bath and then the occasional slosh of water. It didn’t take long for his mind to take the next leap to imagining Zoe in the tub, and from there, he was hopelessly fantasizing about her naked body covered with bubbles.

  Finally, in a desperate effort to clear his mind, he texted Mason.

  Do women have a thing for bathtubs?

  A few minutes later, the response came. The sigh that accompanied it was practically audible.

  Where do you think Tess is right now? I’m pretty sure the only reason she agreed to move in with me was because I had a bathtub.

  Connor nodded. This was helpful information. He winced when Mason followed up a few minutes after that.

  Why do you ask?

  He gave the response he’d been planning.

  Considering bathroom layouts for the new remodels in my building. Designers want to include a tub. I don’t see it when space is limited.

  That’s why you aren’t an interior designer. Women think differently. Speaking of which, did you text Zoe? Congratulate her?

  Connor froze over his phone. How did Mason do that? It was like he could sense when Connor had Zoe over.

  You mean about the Southcycle thing? Why? I’ll probably see her this week at our usual meeting.

  This week is Thanksgiving, idiot. And it would just be a nice thing to do, since you blew off her celebration night out.

  Great. Now he felt terrible all over again.

  And it’s part of your exposure therapy.

  Ha-ha. Okay, fine, I’ll text her.

  Good. You need any more advice about women and bathtubs, just let me know.

  Connor rolled his eyes, finished his drink, and then walked through his bedroom to the adjoining bathroom. He knocked gently on the closed door.

  “You still alive in there?”

  No answer.

  He tried again, clearing his throat at the door before speaking. “Can I bring you anything?”

  Still no response.

  He pushed his head closer to the door but heard nothing. It occurred to him that she might be drowning. Or passed out.

  Should he go in?

  Surely not.

  But maybe?

  He’d seen Zoe naked quite a few times. It wasn’t like he’d be barging in on a stranger.

  “Zoe?”

  Fine. He was going in. He wasn’t going to let her die in his bathtub.

  He knocked one last time as he opened the door. “Everything okay…” His voice drained away as he looked at the tub.

  Zoe definitely was not drowning. She was up to her neck in bubbles, hair piled high on top of her head, a pink flush in her cheeks. White ear pods explained why she hadn’t reacted to his knock, and, though he couldn’t be sure, the way she caught her lip between her teeth, the gentle rock of water, and a quiet sigh of pleasure suggested she wasn’t waiting for a partner to help her relax that evening.

  It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

  Every bit of him stiffened. He couldn’t look away. She rolled her head back and sighed again, this time the tip of her tongue touching her upper lip.

  When her eyes opened a moment later, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

  “Are you just going to watch?” she said huskily, without a hint of shame or surprise at his appearance. When she shifted her position to be slightly more upright, the tops of her breasts became visible under the water.

  Impossibly, he got even harder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said hastily, inching backward. “I’ll go. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t drowning in here.”

  Rosy lips curled into a knowing smile. “You were worried about my safety?”

  “You were awfully quiet.”

  “I was busy.” She laid her head back against the tub and studied him from head to toe, pausing for a moment at the evidence of his arousal. “You might as well come on in.”

  He had to stop a moment to let the words filter through to his brain. “You want me to come in…the bathtub? With you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know, Connor, sometimes you seem very different from the guy in the office. But sometimes…yes, I mean in the tub.”

  How was it that he kept making the same mistakes over and over again? Why wasn’t he backing up and walking away, like he knew he should?

  Without thinking, he shrugged off his shirt and walked over to the edge of the tub. Zoe moved forward to meet him, the tumble of damp hair and curve of her lips transforming her into a sexy nymph. He sat on the tiled surround and leaned forward to claim a steamy, openmouthed kiss that wasted no time with teasing, gentle foreplay.

  They were combustible. Explosive. She rose to her knees, and he trailed his hands over her slippery nipples. Her head rolled back, and she moaned.

  “Yes. I need that.”

  He’d never been with a woman as vocal as Zoe, and every sound she made only intensified the urgent ache in his groin, the throbbing need to have her body wrapped around him. He shed the rest of his clothes, any clinical analysis of the situation—pros? Cons? To be with her or not be with her?—utterly impossible.

  He stepped into the tub, settling into the corner as she moved to cover him. He spent long minutes stroking her nipples, watching as the tender flesh ruched to hard points and her eyes fluttered shut. The corners of her mouth turned up in pleasure. He had to struggle to keep his own body still as his cock demanded to bury itself inside her.

  She rocked against him as he traced the curve of her hips and butt. She ran her fingers over the length of him, matching him to her clit, moving in an increasing rhythm that had her moaning with pleasure. When he tried to slow her movements, she pulled his hands away, moving them instead to her breasts. “Just try to keep up,” she whispered in his ear.

  He leaned forward and captured her nipple in his mouth, then took a gentle tug with his teeth.

  “Mmm.” The sound escaped from her in a slow exhalation. “I like that.”

  He repeated the gesture again as his hands returned to her hips, increasing the pressure as she ground her body against his.

  “Fuck yes,” she groaned. “More.”

  Helpless, he turned his attention to the other nipple, feeling the tension rising in her body. He slid a hand between them and stroked her as she cried out in pleasure. She lifted her body a few inches, and he slipped inside her. She did not wait but ground down on him, arching her hips and riding him hard.

  He bit her nipple again, and she jerked against him. The movement of her hips did not stop but deepened as the tempo increased.

  He cupped and squeezed her butt, heard her cry out with release and felt her spasm against him. Then he took his own pleasure, thrusting hard into her.

  She was a drug. A craving, relentless need that could only be satisfied with this moment. This release. When he came the force of it lifted his hips and sent water sloshing over the sides of the tub. With a harsh cry, he let go and lost everything—the room, the candles, the bubbles cove
ring their bodies.

  Everything but her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  When Zoe returned home that night, she did not know if she had done the right thing or an enormously stupid thing. But she did not care. Instead, she pushed all of her doubts and fears into a box, shoved it into a dark corner of her mind, and crawled beneath her newly cleaned sheets. Her apartment wasn’t anywhere near as beautiful as Connor’s. She had no stunning view of the city, no granite counters or handmade cabinets.

  But it was hers. And that was what she needed.

  In the morning, she pulled out her suitcase and packed for her trip to Las Vegas. There was no text or message from Connor, and she was glad. They hadn’t spoken much last night before she left. It felt like an agreement had been reached. This is all they would be. There was really nothing else to say.

  Just before noon her phone rang, and she was surprised to find it was Tess on the other end.

  “Hey, Zoe, I know this sounds crazy, but is there any chance you can come with me to an emergency cupcake tasting?”

  “Um, what?” Zoe couldn’t help but smile at the other woman’s frazzled voice. “Is that a new wedding thing? Emergency cupcakes?”

  Tess moaned dramatically. “It’s not that the cupcakes are emergencies, it’s the tasting. And I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s my life now. See, there’s a little bakery that’s supposed to be completely amazing, but they’re normally booked out for months. Turns out, of course, Cece knows someone who knows someone, so they agreed to see me but only if I can come today because they had a cancellation. Engagement gone bad, I guess.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  “Awful,” Tess agreed. “It gives me the willies, I swear.”

  “Mason adores you. I’ve never seen a better pair than the two of you. You’ve got no reason to even think about that.”

  “I know, I know, it just isn’t something you want to hear about.” She heaved a sigh. “Anyway, Cece’s working and Mason refuses to taste any more baked goods, and I definitely do not want to do this on my own. Not that I wouldn’t have called you even if they could come, but—”

  Zoe laughed. “Say no more. You need someone to consume insanely delicious cupcakes? I’m your girl.”

  “Oh thank goodness! If you want to park in Mason’s lot, we can walk over together. He’s got a guest spot you can use.”

  “Sounds good—I just need to take a quick shower and then I’ll head over.”

  Zoe speed washed and dried her hair before heading over to Mason’s apartment, where Tess had been living since her house burned down back in the spring.

  A warm feeling had stolen over her since her call with Tess. It had been so long since Zoe had had a close female friend that it felt strange, but wonderful, to be spending the afternoon with another woman.

  Mason’s apartment was more glamorous than Connor’s, at the top of a swanky high-rise on the edge of the Financial District. Sitting just a few blocks from the Bay, it had spectacular views from its panoramic windows, and unlike Connor’s place, it had clearly been decorated by someone who cared about interior design and style.

  But probably like Connor at that very moment, Mason was firmly planted on his white leather couch, watching football. He did have a stack of papers spread out on the coffee table in front of him, and he was glancing between them and his wide-screen TV.

  “What’s the score?” Zoe asked, petting Astro, Tess’s sweet little white dog, as Tess grabbed her coat. Astro leaned into her hand like a queen accepting her due, and Tess had a repeat moment of her pet fantasy.

  “Fourteen to zero,” Mason said glumly. “We look like shit.”

  “Damn. If we have to get humiliated, I wish it wasn’t by the Raiders.”

  Mason gave a low whistle of approval as he glanced back at her. “That sounds really impressive. You don’t actually care, do you?”

  Zoe laughed. “Not a bit. But I’m trying out my football small talk.”

  “Well, it sounds perfect, but you’d seem much more concerned if you were actually watching the game.”

  She nodded. “Good point. Not that I have any plans to start watching, but at least I can pretend better.”

  Tess joined them, wearing an oversize wool pea coat and a gray beanie. Mason smiled fondly at her. “There’s my little street urchin. You know you look like an orphan left over from a production of Oliver, right?”

  She stuck out her tongue. “It’s cold and rainy.”

  “I know,” he said. “You spent two hours in the bath last night recovering from work.”

  Tess briefly closed her eyes in remembered pleasure. “I walked dogs for two hours in the rain,” she said to Zoe. “And then I figured I needed to spend an equal amount of time immersed in hot water.”

  Zoe laughed. “I totally get it. Something about this weather demands a bath. I had a pretty amazing one myself yesterday. Candles and bubbles and the whole nine yards.”

  Mason swung around to look at her. “You, too, huh?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’re all in on the bath thing?”

  “Of course she is,” Tess said. “She’s female.”

  “Well,” Mason said. “That’s interesting. Proves a theory of mine, actually.”

  “That women like baths?” Zoe asked. “I’m pretty sure that’s just a fact, not a theory.”

  “Never mind,” he said, waving a hand and turning back to the TV. “Hard to explain.”

  Tess glanced at Zoe and shrugged. “He loses the power of speech when a game is on.”

  “No problem. Let’s go try some cupcakes, shall we?”

  …

  Though Zoe would never have guessed it, Tess was a secret romantic, and she fell in love with the bakery’s traditional buttercream-frosted cupcakes decorated in shades of pink and ivory, topped with handmade flowers, tiny birds, and butterflies. The miraculous little treats were melt-in-the-mouth delicious, with a delicate vanilla flavor enhanced with the scent of roses. The bakery owner gave Tess her short list of available dates for late summer and recommended she place her deposit as soon as she was able.

  Tess walked out with her eyes wide. “I think it’s really going to happen,” she said.

  “I’m pretty sure of it,” Zoe agreed.

  They paused under the overhang of the shop, grimacing at the rain sluicing down gutters and collecting in small rivers on the street. “Any chance you want to get coffee before we head back?” Tess asked hopefully, pointing at a coffee shop two doors down. “Maybe it will let up.”

  “Definitely.”

  While Tess waited for her latte, Zoe grabbed a table and checked her email. She froze when she saw an unread email that had come in from the contact form on her website. The sender’s name: Sophie Anderson.

  Zoe had a flashback to her encounter a few weeks ago with Elena Parisi. Probably a coincidence that the email bore the same name as Zoe’s old friend, Elena’s daughter.

  The contact form didn’t provide a regarding line, just a small space for an email address and message. Few of Zoe’s clients came from the form. She mainly used it to weed out spam.

  She stared a moment longer, then told herself she was being ridiculous and opened the email.

  Dear Zoe,

  It feels really strange to send this email after all these years…

  Abruptly, she closed her in-box and set down her phone. Heart racing, she forced herself to take several long, slow breaths.

  She hadn’t done anything wrong. Lord only knew what Sophie’s mother had told her after she’d run into Zoe and Connor at the Italian restaurant, but she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  Tess approached the table. “Everything okay?” she asked, glancing from Zoe to the phone, which lay on the table.

  “Of course,” she said. “Just a weird email. I’ll read it later.”

  “You sure? I don’t mind if you want to read it now.”

  Zoe glanced at the phone. She pictured Sophie, a dimi
nutive, curly-haired fireball who had been in Zoe’s class at high school. Having grown up together, they’d often felt more like family than friends. Until Zoe broke up with Daniel, she had always considered Sophie one of her inner circle, but Sophie’s family had been close with Daniel’s as well, and once the engagement ended, whatever friendship she and Sophie shared had ended, too.

  Why would she have written, after all these years?

  “You should read the email,” Tess urged. “I wanted to text Cece anyway and let her know what we thought of the cupcakes.”

  Zoe picked up her phone. With some effort, she reopened the email.

  Dear Zoe,

  It feels really strange to send this email after all these years, but my mother told me she saw you, and once I found your website, I couldn’t believe it. You look exactly the same! I always was jealous of you and that gorgeous hair of yours. You probably wouldn’t even recognize me now. I definitely haven’t aged as well as you. Anyway, I don’t know how to say this, but discretion was never one of my strong suits, so I’ll just blurt it out. I’m really sorry for treating you like I did. Like we all did…

  Zoe closed the email again as tears filled her eyes. She really, really couldn’t read this here. Not with Tess on her way back to the table, sipping from her oversize mug of coffee.

  Tess looked from the phone to Zoe’s face. “Should I give you a minute?”

  Zoe shook her head. Blinking rapidly, she managed a laugh. “Just some unfinished business from a long time ago.”

  “I see. Any chance this has to do with that ex-fiancé of yours?” She held up a hand. “Never mind, that’s really nosy of me. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. You’re right.” Zoe picked up the phone and then set it down again. “When I broke up with Daniel, it basically crushed him. Daniel’s family was part of a group of us in the neighborhood who were all really close. I’d always been a little strange to them anyway, being obsessed with chess and debating and wanting to go away to college. So when they had to take sides, it was just natural that they sided with him.”

  She explained what had happened in the aftermath of the broken engagement and how painful it was to see Sophie’s name. Tess squeezed her hand. “Zoe, did you ever consider that maybe they aren’t the only ones who blamed you? It sounds like you’ve been holding yourself responsible for Daniel’s pain for a really long time.”