Chasing Temptation

by M. S. Parker

  “Wow. It looks like the castle where Beauty found the beast.”

  Harrison chuckled. “Well, in that case, Miss Maya, you’ll have a much easier time of it. After all, the two of you are already in love.”

  “Yes.” As we took the twisting road toward the house, I studied it, trying to figure out what had drawn Glenn toward it. It looked half abandoned, surrounded by a brick fence that faced the road. On the other side lay the ocean.

  “How long has he lived here?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s been in his family for a while. I guess he moved here after…well.” Harrison shrugged.

  “After.” After me, I finished for him. “There’s a gate. It’s closed.”

  “I can open it. He gave a key to Miss Florence, and I take care of it. I’ll get you in there.” He was quiet a moment, then he asked, “Are you comfortable talking to him, Miss Maya? I know you two didn’t part on the best of terms.”

  “He’s angry with me,” I said, looking out the window as the car rolled to a stop in front of the gate. “I understand why. I’ll be fine. But thank you.”

  It took another few minutes before we finally reached the house. The yard was overgrown. Rose bushes crept up the sides of the house and threatened to overtake what looked to be a fountain. I imagined this place would be beautiful if some time and love were put into it.

  “Here we are,” Harrison said unnecessarily. “You’ll take the path there. It takes you through to the front door.”

  I nodded as he parked the car and waited, for once, for him to let me out as I swiped my hands down the front of my dress. Florence really should be the one out here. I didn’t even know what to say to Glenn now.

  But after Harrison gave me one more encouraging smile, I turned toward the house and took a breath. The sidewalk took a twisting path through an overgrown front yard, hidden behind private walls. It looked and felt a little like a jungle.

  The lights in the house were off.

  I heard nothing coming from within—but Glenn’s car was in the driveway. Harrison had pointed it out as we parked.

  Didn’t mean he couldn’t have done somewhere with Kimberly in her car. That thought had me gritting my teeth, even as I pictured her being here, opening the door.

  Or maybe she was in his bed. Naked. Oh, man. What was I going to do if the two of them answered the door together?

  I’d die. I’d be crushed. I’d run back to Harrison crying, and I just might never stop.

  Reaching the front step, I stood, practically panting. Get it done, I told myself. I had to, just so I could get out of here without making an idiot of myself.

  Get it done.

  So I could go back to the house and sit in my room, stay out of the way and not intrude on Florence’s grief.

  Immediately, I felt like an idiot—she’d been nothing less than wonderful to me, but I couldn’t always be in somebody else’s home. That was their space, and she should be alone with her husband to grieve.

  Just another thing I had to figure out.

  Bracing myself, I squared my shoulders and knocked.

  There was no answer.

  I knocked again and listened as the sound echoed hollowly inside the house. I almost turned back to the car, back to Harrison. I could stay in the guesthouse for a few days. I’d been comfortable there before. It wouldn’t be hard to make myself comfortable there again, let Florence have some time, just her and Astor.

  But instead of following the walk back down to where Harrison waited in the car, I chased the raging, rushing sound of the water. The ocean crashing into the sand. The day was overcast, the wind grabbing my hair and tearing it away from my face, only to slap it right back until it stung my eyes. Shoving it back and trying to tame it, I came to a halt as the walkway opened up onto a broad, open vista—a stone patio that looked like it had been crafted from the very earth itself. Following the natural path it cut into the lay, I found myself staring into Glenn’s eyes.

  He sat on a table.

  There was no surprise in his eyes as he looked at me.

  There wasn’t much of anything in his eyes.

  He looked dull, all but lifeless, and when he looked away to stare back over the water, the ache inside me spread so fast and cold, I thought it just might stop my heart.

  “Glenn.”

  Not even a flicker that he’d heard me.

  I took another step closer, then another.

  He kept staring out over the water, unblinking.

  “I…” Hesitant, I came to a stop just off to the side. He didn’t still look at me. “I heard about Cane.”

  No response.

  “Peter called Florence’s house. He wanted her to come out and talk to you, but she’s…she’s not handling it too well herself. I said I’d come and make sure you were okay.”

  A deep shuddering sigh escaped him and he dropped his head to stare down at the stones beneath us. His shoulders spasmed with each shudder, and every muscle, every sinew of his body was drawn tight enough to snap. I would have given anything to be able to reach out to him, to touch him and take away this pain.

  Instead, I stood there with my arms crossed awkwardly around my middle as he lost himself in grief.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Abruptly, he pushed away from the table and stormed inside. The movement was so sudden, I jumped and he brushed close enough that I felt the heat of him. Longing swam through me and I shoved it deep, deep down inside me. There was no room for that, no time. I couldn’t be feeling any of that right now. Any of it.

  Without saying a word, and while I was trying to get my stupid emotions under control, Glenn strode toward the French doors that opened onto the patio.

  I slumped, expecting to hear them slam.

  Seconds passed.

  Silence.

  Slowly, I looked up and found on the doors left open.

  The lights inside were still off.

  But he’d left the door open.

  Something told me that it hadn’t been an accident. “Here we go, then.”

  21

  Glenn

  I should have answered the damn phone.

  I had no doubt it had been Peter calling every ten or twenty minutes.

  Ever since I’d gotten the news about Cane, I’d been feeling…empty.

  He was gone.

  I’d already written him a fucking letter. It was sealed, on the counter, stamped and ready to go.

  But he’d already been dead by the time I’d written it.

  He was gone.

  The last words I’d ever said to him had been in anger.

  “Glenn?”

  Maya’s voice, soft and gentle, was the last thing I needed to hear. But I’d known she’d come inside. I should have just shut the door, locked it and buried myself in my bed for the next week. I didn’t have anything around here that would really help me sleep, but if I laid there long enough, I’d zone out. Then I’d sleep—and maybe I’d even forget for a while.

  The soft swish of fabric moving against skin taunted me and I turned to see that she had drawn nearer. The dim light cast her face into shadow, playing up the darkness of her eyes.

  It had been too long since I’d touched her. It had been too long—

  “I’m sorry about Cane,” she said.

  “Yeah.” Jerking my head, I turned around and stormed across the kitchen to the refrigerator, wrenching it open with near violence. I’d give my right arm if I found a bottle of booze in there but there was nothing. I had a cleaning lady come out twice a week—never when I was there and the deal was if she ever found alcohol—and sometimes she did—she was to dump it out and throw away the bottles. So far, it was helping a lot. But right now, I’d give anything for a bottle.

  “You already told me you were sorry. I got that message. Everybody is sorry. My best friend is dead. Anything else, Maya?” Head pounding, I stared into the open refrigerator and the cool air was a welcomed kiss of relief. So welcomed, I braced my arm agai
nst the edge and stood there, breathing the chilled air in and out of my lungs, until goose bumps broke out over my flesh.

  “I…Glenn, you shouldn’t be alone right now. I…” She swallowed and I could see the way her throat moved with it. “If you want, I can call Kimberly.”

  That startled a laugh out of me, although immediately after, I regretted it. “You’ll call Kimberly?” I moved in on her, caging her in by the counter and staring down at her.

  That was another thing I regretted immediately—getting so close, because the minute I did, the scent of her flooded my head. She smelled every bit as good, every bit as sweet and soft and as sexy as I’d remembered. She’d tasted the same, too, I knew it. If I…

  Stop.

  “You want to call Kimberly?” I said, watching her eyes closely.

  The flicker was gone so fast, I might have almost thought I imagined it. But no. I’d seen it.

  “If that’s what you want,” she replied, voice unsteady. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “So…you want to call Kimberly. For me?”

  I didn’t know why I was doing this. And there was it was again—that faint flinch. The part of me that wasn’t lost in misery and anger and grief tried to take control, but that small piece was so small, so lost, it was easy to smash it completely and shove it way down. Driven by every other emotion, the ones that wouldn’t get pushed down and silence, I reached up and cupped my hand along her neck.

  “Now why in the hell would you go and call Kimberly?”

  Her eyes had flared wide when I touched her, pupils spiking. But when she went to twist away, I let her go—mostly because if I didn’t, I’d end up kissing her, and I didn’t want to think about what I might do if she tried to pull away then.

  “I already told you,” she said, her voice shaking. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. Do you want her here?”

  “For what purpose?” I shrugged and turned away. I needed a drink, and since there wasn’t any alcohol, I’d make do with a pop. I pulled two bottles out of the fridge and offered one to Maya. She hesitated, then slowly took one while I leaned against the counter several feet away. “If Kimberly is here, she’ll either suggest we go out and party, which isn’t a good idea for me. I finally stopped drinking myself into a stupor, wondering what had happened to you. I don’t need to do it now, wondering why I didn’t—”

  Snapping my jaw shut, I bit back the rest of the words.

  I’d lived with the apology I’d never made to Cane for the rest of my life. I didn’t need to cry to Maya about it.

  “Glenn, I’m sorry about what happened when I…”

  “When you left me?” I laughed again and it was broken and ugly and bitter—a good reflection of how I felt inside. “Sure. Whatever. Listen, Maya, you checked up on me. I’m not drinking myself into a stupor—again—and I didn’t put a bullet through my head.”

  She went white.

  I told myself it didn’t matter and continued. “So go on. Toddle on back to Florence’s and she can call Peter and they can console themselves, knowing that they did their best.”

  I drained the bottle, sent it sailing across the room where it landed in the trash. Then I started out of the room.

  “Wait just a damn minute.”

  I didn’t.

  It wasn’t much of a surprise that she caught up to me, grabbing my hand. I could have shrugged it off, and in hindsight, I should have.

  But three years of being without her did a lot to damage what little self-control I once might have had. Turning to face her, I stared down into her wide, frustrated eyes. “There’s one other thing Kimberly might suggest we do,” I said bluntly, staring into her eyes. “And I don’t need her here for that. Are you interested?”

  I didn’t even need to fill in the blanks.

  Maya’s cheeks went red.

  I moved in closer and she backed up one small step after another, right into the wall. When I dipped my head and pressed my lips to her ear, all she did was crane her head to the side, just a bit. “Time is running out. You better leave now if you’re going to.”

  “Does it look like I’m leaving?”

  I caught her by the waist, boosted her up. Leaning in against her softness, I nuzzled her neck. At the same time, I settled my cock—straining against my jeans—between her thighs. The skirt of her dress was short and moved up easily. Now all that separated us was a pair of thin tights and her panties. I could have those off her so fast. “Tell me to stop,” I said.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “Fuck us both,” I muttered. Then I caught her hair in my hair, yanked her head back and crushed her mouth under mine. She was already open, her arms reaching for me.

  As she wrapped herself around me, I wrenched at her tights until I’d torn a hole in the center. Then I widened that tear, yanking and twisting and pulling so I could tug her panties out of the way, too. She was already wet and when I dipped two fingers inside her, she whimpered, tightening around me and gasping my name against my lips.

  I couldn’t wait.

  I fumbled with the buckle of my jeans, the zipper and finally managed to get them out of the way, kissing her between ragged gasps of air and muttered curses.

  When I pressed up against her, I paused for just a moment.

  She looked at me, eyes wide, stark…hungry. “Please, Glenn.”

  I thrust deep, hard. She clamped down around me, fist-tight and silky-soft. It was perfect. Groaning, I withdrew, then thrust deep again. Again.

  Maya moved in rhythm with me, her eyes on mine as though she never wanted to look away.

  I was almost afraid to look at her, fearing this was just another head trip of a dream and I’d wake up and the bed would be empty.

  But somehow, I knew it wasn’t. Slowing down, I slid my hands lower, cupping her buttocks, tilting her closer. She shivered, then moaned, arching her breasts closer. The dress blocked them from view but I’d strip her naked soon, then take her again, again…

  A hungry, desperate noise came out of her throat.

  I adjusted her body, moved higher, harder, felt the hard nub of her clitoris now with each stroke. Maya started to shake and she sank her nails into my shoulders, crying out my name.

  It was perfect…or as close to it as I’d gotten in a long time.

  We came almost at the exact same time and when my climax finally ended, my knees were shaking.

  Maya moaned when I withdrew. She was swollen and shuddered just a little. “Come on,” I said, sweeping her up into my arms.

  She snuggled in against me.

  The movement was so…familiar, I had to grit my teeth against the ache it sent crashing through me.

  I wasn’t going to think about this. I couldn’t. Not right now. Carrying her into my bedroom, I sat her on the edge, then stripped her dress away. She was pliant, warm and soft as I took her again, then time taking care to kiss every last inch of her, her tight nipples, the dip of her elbows, her up thrust knee.

  When she was begging for me, I rolled to my back, brought her on top of me and let her take control.

  She drove us both to madness.

  Then she collapsed down against my chest.

  Exhaustion beating at me, I wrapped my arms around Maya and closed my eyes.

  I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen once my head cleared.

  But then again, I didn’t want to think at all.

  I was just a whisper away from sleep when I heard a woman’s voice.

  I tensed.

  So did the warm, soft body curled up against me.

  My body reacted before my brain did—hugging the woman in bed with me, murmuring to her.

  Then I was sitting up, trying to make sense of what was going on.

  “Glenn!”

  I jerked up out of the bed just as Kimberly came into the room, a tight scowl on her face. “Who’s the man in the sweet car? You didn’t—son of a bitch!”

  She lunged for the bed.

  I caught her ju
st before she would have reached it, although Maya was already up and moving, dragging my sheet with her. She stood there, looking nervous and embarrassed, her eyes huge in her pale face.

  “You little slut!” Kimberly shouted. “You disappear for three years and you think you can just steal him away from me?!”

  She twisted and bucked against me, trying to get away. She dug furrows into my arms and I bit back the snarl—damn, that hurt. “Kimberly, that’s enough!” I shouted.

  “No, it’s not! I’m going to kill you, you little bitch!” The manic fury in her voice worried me and I started to drag her out of the room.

  “It’s over, Kimberly,” I said, hustling her to the door. “It’s over.”

  That just made her even angrier. “All because that whore is back? You used me like this for months and now she comes back and I’m just nothing?”

  “That’s not why it’s over.” I let her go, but held on to one wrist so she wouldn’t try to disappear down the hall. She jerked against my hold with force. “It’s over because I’m not going to be with a woman who plays the head games like you do. It’s over. Goodbye.”

  I had to force her out the door and shut it. She screamed at me through it, screamed more, then cried so loudly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if my neighbors a mile away heard.

  I stood there, eyes closed, exhausted all over again.

  “I’m sorry.” Maya stood in the doorway, still wrapped in the sheet. “I…maybe I shouldn’t have come here after all.”

  I couldn’t say I disagreed. But I wasn’t going to say I was sorry, either.

  22

  Maya

  I came awake to the brilliant glow of the rising sun.

  Grimacing against the bright light, I rolled over onto my other side, then tried to escape it by burying my face under the pillow and chase another hour or so sleep.

  After maybe ten minutes, I decided I was wasting time and got up.