Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

by Jessica Hawkins

  “I do,” she rushes out. “I’ve wanted this as much as you. More.”

  “I don’t believe you. When we met outside that gallery, you barely noticed me.”

  “That’s not true,” she says. “I thought you were sexy. I didn’t think . . . someone like you’d be interested in me.”

  “And now?” I ask, licking my lips. When I’ve sunk as deep as I can get, I thrust my hips once, ramming her against the wall. “Think I’m interested now?”

  She can’t even respond, just breathes through her mouth. She’s hot and soft around my dick, but I wish like fuck I could lose the condom, the last barrier between us. I draw back and push in again, watching her expression like she holds the answer to every question I’ve ever wondered.

  Her face screws up.

  “Am I hurting you?” I ask.

  “No.”

  She drops her head back on the tile as I let her have it. Her moans echo through the bathroom, stealing the last of my control. I’ve wanted this too long. I’m going to come already, and she’s not there yet. I fuck her until I’m right at the edge, then pinch the base of the condom to keep it in place as I slide out of her.

  She doesn’t move a muscle. I lower her leg and rest it on the ledge of the tub.

  “Wha . . .” she mumbles. “What are you . . .”

  I get to my knees while she tries to form a sentence. I lick her long and hard, and her body shudders. I take my two favorite fingers and slip them up inside her, fucking her with them until she pulls my hair hard enough to make me growl. I work her clit with my mouth, but to make her feel better than she ever has before, I have to make this a full-body experience. I turn her by her hips so she’s facing the tile. “Support yourself with the wall,” I say.

  She leans her forearms onto the tile and juts her ass out. I grip her cheeks and lick her pussy front to back. So far back that the tip of my tongue teases her anus.

  She wiggles, reaching back to try and push my face away. “Finn,” she gasps.

  “Save the squirming for when my tongue’s actually inside you,” I suggest. I pin her wrists to her hips and spread her ass cheeks with my thumbs. I rim her asshole good and fast as she writhes. I don’t know if she’s fighting me, but I do know she’s enjoying my mouth in the one place it shouldn’t be, whether she admits it or not.

  I massage her clit until her legs give out, and she drops to her knees. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her back to my front, and finger-fuck her from behind until she comes, crying out to the ceiling.

  I stand, pick her up by her waist, and put her over my shoulder. She might be spent, nothing more than a bag of bones, but I’m still painfully hard and swollen. I shut off the water, step carefully out of the tub, and carry her into my room. After tossing her onto her back, I grab the comforter in my fists and yank her to the edge of the bed.

  “You can’t do that,” she wheezes, her chest rising and falling.

  I half smile. “Already did, Hals. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you enjoyed it.” I part her knees and run my hands up her inner thighs. “I won’t tell anyone you’re just as kinky as me. That your pussy’s better than heaven. That you kissed me after I ate your ass.”

  “I didn’t—”

  I bend over her, and she whips her head side to side, her lips sealed. I can’t help it. I start to laugh. I don’t care about kissing her with my dirty mouth, but I don’t want to traumatize her. I right myself, grabbing a pillow to elevate her hips, putting her in a position I think will be comfortable enough for me to take her good and hard.

  She watches me and breathes. Just breathes. She might’ve short-circuited with that orgasm, and I plan to give her another one.

  When she’s ready, I put my hands under her ass and pull her hips up to meet mine. I keep her in that position while I slide into her and get to work making a pretty good case for her second orgasm. She reaches above her. Her tits go high and bouncy while she grabs at nothing, as if trying to hold on. I drop her back on the pillow, fold over her, and angle deeper. I pin one of her flailing arms by her head, then do the same with the other. I restrain her and fuck her and have my fill of her and I’m just lost enough that I’m not sure if she comes, but I think she does, so I finally release, exploding like a volcano that’s been stopped up for centuries.

  Either she’s shaking, or I am, or we both are. Water drips from my hair to her chest. It could be sweat. My arms feel weak, so I drop onto my elbows and finally rest my body on top of hers. I’m sure I’m crushing her, but she wraps one arm around my back.

  With that one gesture, I feel a wave of guilt for how I just handled her.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know.” I’ve been told by some of my partners that I can be dominant in the bedroom, but that I’m a lover first. I’m worried that right now, I got so carried away, I didn’t take good enough care of her. I try to get up, but my muscles are liquid. “It was too much.”

  “It was perfect,” she says.

  I sigh, too beat to argue over something I want to be wrong about. “Good.”

  After a few seconds, I’m able to move off of her. I stand, but she stays splayed out on the bed, sunken into the mattress. “Did you come again?” I ask.

  She just nods.

  “Can you move?”

  She shakes her head.

  I smile. “All right. You don’t have to. How about if I bring you some coffee?”

  She sighs deeply, her eyes closed. “Sure. Whatever.”

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Here, I’ve been worried she might prefer coffee to anything else, even sex. Even me. And she feels whatever about it? She must really be out of it. I need something to do with myself until the next round, so I trash the condom in the bathroom, pull on my boxer briefs, and head into the kitchen. I start a pot of Quench coffee. It no longer belongs to Sadie. It’s post-fucking-Halston coffee now, and it’ll taste even better. Because Halston and I are better. I might’ve elbowed my way into her life, but Halston hasn’t held back with me. She was completely present just now. Sadie often went somewhere else in our most intimate moments—to Nathan, I guess. I could tell, even when she denied it.

  Not Halston, though. She gave me all of herself, and all I had to do was ask.

  As soon as the pot drips its last drop, Halston shuffles into the kitchen, blonde hair damp and tousled, wearing just my t-shirt. It swings around her bare thighs. I’d bet a million bucks she’s got no panties on under there. That’s enough to get me half hard again. “Hey.”

  She grins like a junkie who just raided her stash. “Hi.”

  “Sit. I’ve got your coffee coming right up. Strong as an ox.”

  She scrapes a chair out from under the kitchen table and plops onto it. “That was . . .”

  “Shitty?” I ask.

  Her cheeks burn red. “That’s not funny. I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I told you to get un-squeamish. At least we were in the shower.” I get two mugs from a cupboard as she scoffs. I look back at her. “Listen, in the bedroom, if it feels good for both of us, it’s fair game. That’s all I’m saying.”

  She narrows her eyes, shaking her head with a small smile. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever . . .” She looks down at her lap and goes completely still. “Um. Finn?”

  “Yeah, babe.” I set her coffee down and sit across from her.

  “The condom.”

  “I know.” I plant my elbows on the table and run both hands through my hair. “It fucking sucks we have to use one, but I’ve got issues about it.”

  She looks up at me, her bottom lip between her teeth. “Issues . . .?”

  I massage my jaw. It’s not something I enjoy talking about, but I feel close to Halston right now. And I plan to get even chummier, so she needs to know. I’m comfortable enough to go where I’d rather not. “Kendra and I dated when I was just out of college, for about a year, and then I ended things. But she was u
sed to getting what she wanted, and she wanted me.”

  She knits her eyebrows. “What’s that have to do with condoms?”

  “She came by one night. We had break-up sex. No big deal, lots of couples do it, but it didn’t change my feelings for her. We were completely over. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me she’d stopped taking birth control. That’s how Marissa was conceived.”

  Halston looks horrified. “Oh my God.”

  I sip my drink and Halston does the same. The mug’s the same cool gray as her eyes. “Yeah. It started this whole downward spiral of stuff. I felt responsible, so I married her. Her parents were devastated. They thought I was a bum. At the time, I’d been trying to make it as a photographer, but I was barely getting by. Her dad got me admitted into business school without asking me, and I went. Not for him or for Kendra, but for Marissa. I knew, even if I tripled the work I was doing as a photographer, there was no supporting a child on what I’d be making.”

  “She manipulated you.”

  “And she’s been doing it ever since. The affair was the catalyst for the divorce, so she brings it up any chance she gets. She uses Marissa against me at every turn. It’s not ideal, but it’s my life.”

  Halston doesn’t respond. At first, I think she’s shocked, but then I realize she’s gulping air fast—too fast to let any out. “I-I . . .”

  I stand, pushing my chair back. “What’s wrong?” She turns sheet-white and begins to wheeze. I kneel in front of her. “Are you having a panic attack?”

  Distantly, she looks down and grabs the edge of her t-shirt. Awful scenarios filter through my head. Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Did the Kendra stuff scare her? She lifts the hem, but there’s nothing there.

  “Halston, talk to me. What is it?”

  “I think the condom broke.” She touches herself between the legs, and her fingers come back slick. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  I sit back on my heels. My relief eases slightly, but not completely. Fuck. I didn’t check the condom before I tossed it. It definitely wasn’t empty, but maybe it wasn’t full, either. I cover her hand with mine. “Are you on birth control?”

  “Yes. I swear, I would never, ever lie about that, no matter how upset . . . no matter how much I wanted . . .”

  I kiss her hand. “I believe you. I do. It’s not—I mean, if I have any doubt, it’s because of Kendra, not you.”

  “You have some doubt, though?” she asks, her voice small.

  I wish I could say no, babe, of course not, like a normal boyfriend would. It’s just that Kendra blindsided me so bad, I still haven’t recovered. I was in shock until well after I’d made an honest woman of her and Marissa was born. Not even Sadie shook that distrust in me. She might’ve eventually, but I made sure we used a condom every time we were together. “I don’t doubt you,” I say. “But it goes deep. I don’t even have the faith I should in condoms or birth control. When it comes to this, I don’t entirely trust anything I can’t see with my own eyes.”

  “I can show you my pack,” she says and goes to stand. “It’s in my—”

  I push her back into the seat. “It’s okay.”

  “No it’s not. I don’t want you to think I . . . that it was intentional or—”

  I smile a little, and she stops, clearly confused. It’s just fucking cute that she’s so worried about it, and for some reason, it makes me less worried. “I know you didn’t.”

  Finally, she deflates into the chair. “I promise.”

  I chuckle. “I hear you.”

  She looks out the window over the kitchen sink. “Okay. Good.”

  “Yes, good,” I repeat, trying to catch her eyes, because she doesn’t sound at ease. Once again, I’ve gone and spoiled her mood. Fuck me. “Shit, if it’s anyone’s fault the condom broke, it’s mine,” I say, attempting to cheer her up. “I’m the one who bought them. And it was my bright idea to fuck in the shower. You have every right to be suspicious I plotted to get you pregnant.”

  She whips her head around, her expression pure shock.

  I grin. “If you don’t shut that mouth,” I warn, “I will kiss you.”

  She covers her lips and says through her hand, “Please go clean it.”

  I laugh, standing. I’d like to kiss her at some point today, so I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. The condom’s on top of the trash, full of my jizz. It doesn’t look broken from here. I’m good. I should be totally good. Condoms break all the time. The chances of pregnancy without a condom or birth control are relatively low. And I barely came in her. We’ll be fine.

  Belatedly, though, I think about what I just said to tease her. Me, plotting to get her pregnant. It’s the last thing I want, and maybe that’s the reason it turns me on to think about. Coming inside her. Claiming her permanently. I never had that urge with Kendra. Before our split, I’d been adamant about not having another baby. With Sadie, I thought about our future a lot, but a family would’ve been a concession on my part to win her.

  On my way out of the bathroom, I stop at my nightstand for another condom. They might be crap, but they’re all I’ve got and I’m not about to get dressed and go downstairs to find more. I start to shut the drawer when I catch sight of Halston’s journal. God, just a couple weeks ago, I was jerking it to her words. I would’ve given anything to have her.

  Now I do.

  I pick up the warm, weighty leather with respect and gratitude and bring it with me to the kitchen. She has her hands curled around the fog-colored mug, her cheeks pink from hot coffee and hotter sex.

  “Hey,” I say, passing through as I head to the living room. “Come with me.”

  I go to the couch, lie on my back, and open an arm to her.

  “What’s that?” she asks from the doorway.

  “You know very well what it is.”

  She half rolls her eyes but comes to me. As she settles in, I take a moment to appreciate how her skin warms against mine. How she fits herself to my side. Her silky blonde hair tickles my bicep as she runs her fingers up my middle, abs to chest. I won’t last like this very long, so I open the journal. “Read to me. Will you?”

  She takes a few moments to answer. “I don’t know.”

  I turn on my side, encircling her from behind, and flip through the book so we both can see. She stops me by touching one of the pages. “This one.”

  I nuzzle her ear and whisper the first line to her. “‘I have a thirst I can’t deny.’”

  “‘I try, baby, do I try,’” she says. “‘But I want to be drunk down like you do a handle, taste me better than your first-love liquor, your fingers tightening around my whiskey-bottle neck.’”

  I’m harder than hard against the cushion of her ass. I let go of one side of the journal and gently take her throat in my hand. When she lifts her chin, I angle over her to capture her mouth. I accidentally drop the book but leave it. Her words are sex, and I need to feel her now. Shoving down my underwear, I push into her from behind.

  “Oh my God,” she groans. “Oh, fuck. But the condom.”

  “Just for a second,” I say. I trust myself, and only myself, not to go too far. “I just want to feel you.”

  She’s nice and wet, accepting my length easier this time. Her warmth soothes me. Skin on skin is magic. Maybe I’m wrong to think I can stop. Maybe I should not have fucking done this. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to go back to having a layer of latex between us.

  My hand is still around her throat. She wants things she can’t ask for. That’s why they go in the journal. I can give her all of it, but not without talking to her first. And now is not the time for talking. Still, her words live inside me, and I only know one way to get them out.

  Without releasing her neck, I lean over the side of the couch and feel around for my bag. When I find it, I dig out my camera.

  Her eyes follow until it’s outside her frame of vision. I get it. She’s been unsure about the camera from the start, and now s
he’s naked, exposed—not just her body but her face, her emotions.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask.

  She swallows against the palm of my hand before nodding.

  It’s not the most comfortable position for me, and since I know the photo won’t turn out perfectly, I use that to my advantage. While I’m inside her, I get up on my elbow and take a picture of my hand around her throat. I keep anything above her lips or below her collarbone out of the frame. But her open mouth and splotchy skin add a level of perfection to the image that should be captured. Anyone who wants to see it, will—she’s getting fucked in this photo.

  When I have what I want, I put the camera down and bury my face in her sweet-smelling hair. I move a hand to her tits and fuck her that way for a few silent, fire-burning seconds and then reluctantly put on a condom to finish both of us off.

  I begin to drift, still inside her, my arms around her, my camera and her journal tossed aside together. Her breathing softens, evening out.

  The clouds break and sunlight comes through the window, jarring me back to consciousness. My first thought is that I can’t wait to have her again. My next is that I’m a fucking idiot, putting my dick anywhere without a condom. But I settle down quickly when the truth hits me in the chest like a bag full of beautiful bricks.

  It’s been a perfect day. Time with my daughter, then with the girl I’ve been waiting for a long time. Fucking perfect.

  17

  As soon as I step out of the elevator onto the yellow-lighted sixth floor and see Finn waiting in his doorway, I forget that my new heels have been pinching my feet since this morning. That my shoulders ache from three hours in a qualitative analysis seminar.

  He follows me with his green, adoring eyes. He’s in slacks, a tie, and a button-down because he wore a suit to a meeting with a prospective client. I watched him shave earlier, but now golden stubble shades his jaw. I forget how to speak. I’ve stayed here every night since Friday, and each time I see him, he gets better. Sexier, because I know what he’s capable of. Those hands. That mouth. It goes beyond touch and caress. His words alone can leave my knees shaking.