Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

by Jessica Hawkins

  Home.

  I got lost in it, in the soft music that fell on my ears and the peace that radiated back from the city I’d tried to forget I loved.

  I jumped when the breath landed on my bare shoulder. “I’m sorry I ditched you.”

  A small smile tugged at my mouth, and I glanced over my shoulder at the gorgeous man standing right behind me. “I understand. It’s a work party.”

  “I’d rather be hanging out with you.”

  Butterflies.

  Was that normal? It didn’t matter. They were there, fluttering at my insides, whipping and stirring and inciting. I slowly turned to face him. “I’d rather be hanging out with you, too.”

  A soft gust of wind blew through, soft lashes at the longer pieces of his hair, those hypnotizing eyes filled with so much turmoil and questions. He reached up and touched my cheek. “Rynna.”

  Chills skated my spine.

  The band had shifted songs, and strains of an acoustic guitar filled the air. The scruffy voice of the same singer who’d played the last time I was there rode on the breeze. He was singing “Collide” by Howie Day. The lyrics grazed across my skin, eliciting a rash of goose bumps, the same as the callused fingertips that trailed down my arm.

  The words spun around us, and slowly, Rex edged forward. His arm slid around my waist and pulled me against him.

  His palm went to the small of my back, his thumb just brushing against the bare skin exposed by my dress, the other hand landing on my neck.

  My entire world shook.

  Slowly, we began to rock in the slowest kind of dance. Both mesmerized by the song and the feel and the overwhelming vibe, his heart thrumming in sync with mine. We were caught up in it, as if time had stopped, the two of us giving ourselves over to the moments that passed. I would have been content for it to go on forever.

  He drew me closer, his nose running along the back of my ear. “You are so beautiful, Rynna,” he murmured. “So beautiful it fucking hurts to look at you.”

  “Rex,” I whispered, my fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt.

  He suddenly stepped back, leaving me gasping as he roughed a frustrated hand over his face. “Think we should get out of here.”

  Slowly, I nodded and followed him back inside.

  17

  Rex

  What the fuck was I thinking? Inviting her there? Thinking I could handle this?

  Friends.

  I bit back bitter laughter and led her inside, trying to keep some distance between us when the only thing I wanted was to strip her from that dress and sink inside. We said our goodbyes, thanking Broderick. Lillith gave me a look that promised she would cut off my dick if I did wrong by her friend.

  But that was the fucking problem.

  I didn’t know how to do her right.

  Had no idea how to give her what was so clearly building up between us.

  A savage storm.

  Brutal.

  We stepped outside and into the night. Our footsteps echoed on the sidewalk. All the things we wanted to say roiled in the silence between us. I unlocked my truck and helped her into the front seat. My entire body went rigid when I was struck with another wave of that sweetness, the girl inundating me with every tempting, delicious part of her.

  Sugar and spice.

  Cherry fucking pie.

  She was goddamned stunning.

  I rounded the front of my truck and hopped into the front seat. But I didn’t start the engine. I just held onto the steering wheel, peering out front and letting her confused silence impale me.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally said.

  She smiled a tentative smile, graced with all that understanding. “For what?”

  I scoffed out a laugh as I shifted into gear and pulled onto the road. “For always being such a dick.”

  She laughed the faintest sound. “You’re not always a dick, Rex. I know there’s more to you.”

  “How’s that?” I asked. The words flinging between us were almost playful.

  “There’s no mistaking it when you’re with your daughter.”

  Gruff affection rumbled in my chest. “That’s ’cause she’s the best part of me.”

  “She’s amazing,” Rynna mused, staring out the windshield, her striking face filling up my periphery.

  “Yeah. She’s all I’ve got.”

  I could feel her gaze land on me. Hot and heavy. Demanding in her stare. “Is that the way you want it?”

  Unease itched beneath my skin. “That’s just the way life goes for me, Rynna. It feels like most days I’m barely hanging on. Barely getting by. She’s my life. My heart. Don’t think I have room for anything else.”

  “Because you lost the other half of it?”

  Pain lanced through me, cutting me in two. “Lost myself a long fucking time ago. Not sure I’m ever going to get it back.”

  Her gaze returned out front, her voice growing so soft as she murmured her confession. “You know . . . when I came back here, I was terrified of what might be waiting for me.” I could feel her turmoil, the grief this gorgeous girl had kept inside. “Terrified of what had chased me away in the first place. But I knew that what I’d left behind, what was waiting for me, was worth the risk. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore.”

  A frown pulled at my brow. “What were you running from?”

  Her laughter was hollow. “Shame. Embarrassment. When I look back, I think maybe I was running from myself.” Her chuckle seemed to be completely at her own expense, and her attention dropped to her fingers, which she wrung on her lap. Locks of that chestnut cascaded around her delicate neck. “When I was younger, I was the chubby girl. Awkward. Uncomfortable in my skin.”

  My eyes lifted, dragging down her body in a sweeping pass. She was lush and curved and fucking perfect, and I hated the idea that she’d once felt anything less.

  Her voice softened in wonder. “It feels so ridiculous now, the way I’d let the teasing affect me. I don’t know if it was really my size or if I just was insecure and everyone knew it and they took advantage of it. When my momma left, she left a vacancy I didn’t understand at the time. I was so lonely, and I think the lonelier I got, the hungrier I got for interaction, but I seemed to always get excluded. I think somehow the kids fed on that. It got worse as I got older.”

  She glanced at me. Helplessness struck on her features. “It got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, so I ran.”

  A shot of rage tumbled through my veins. For her as a little girl. Couldn’t imagine it. What if someone treated Frankie like that? “I’m so sorry, Rynna.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it made me stronger. For years, I was too afraid to return. But after my grandmother passed, it finally set in. I lost all those years with her, and I didn’t want to run anymore. I was tired of running from who I am. Even if I still find myself looking over my shoulder, I won’t allow anyone to chase me from my home.”

  “You belong here,” I managed.

  I could feel her eyes flicker over to me. “I don’t think it’s any mistake you and Frankie were the first people I met.”

  Hesitation brimmed around me. I knew what she was saying. What she was asking for. Never had I felt more at war with what I wanted and what I knew was right. I turned right onto our street, the words grating from my tongue. “My life’s a train wreck. One that just seems to go on forever. Every fucking time I think I’m doing something right, it goes to shit.”

  “What happened with your company three years ago?” she suddenly asked. Peering over at me, she fiddled with the silky strap on that lust-inducing dress. Like she knew asking it was crossing a line. Pushing me further and willing to do it, anyway. “What Broderick mentioned?”

  “Just another time life stabbed me in the back. This time it was my business partner. Asshole nearly destroyed me. He made me look like I was a part of his shady practices, stealing from clients, falsifying documents. I very well might have ended up in jail like he did. I managed to prove I had no clue w
hat kind of bullshit he was pulling back at the office while I was out working my fingers to the bone with the crew. Still nearly lost the company because of it, but somehow I managed to hold it together.”

  Hatred pulsed through my veins. Still couldn’t believe the bastard had pulled that shit. It’d nearly knocked me on my ass. The blow was almost as harsh as coming home and finding my wife had left me.

  “That’s horrible.”

  Nodding, I pulled into her drive. “It was. Pisses me off the fucker just got released. Takes about all I have not to hunt him down.”

  She laughed this incredulous sound, honesty gliding onto her face. “You want to hunt yours down and the weak part of me wants to run the other direction.”

  “Don’t ever let anyone chase you from what belongs to you, Rynna Dayne.”

  18

  Rynna

  Tension roiled between us. That tether pulled taut. Drawing us closer. I swallowed around it and reached for the latch. He was quick to open his door, jumping out and rounding to my side before I had time to step out of his massive truck. He helped me down, and his hand scorched where he aided me by holding on to my elbow.

  “Let me walk you to the door. Last thing I need to be worried about is you here by yourself and some asshole taking advantage of you.”

  He quirked this belly-flopping grin that pierced me like an arrow. “Unless of course that asshole is me.”

  He barely angled his head to the side. There was something so endearing and self-deprecating about it. Everything about him right then was at odds with the surly, bear of a man I’d met weeks ago, the man exposing himself, layer by layer.

  I lifted my chin, both in strength and vulnerability, tossing all the uncertainties and questions out into the open. “Should I be afraid?”

  “Yeah, you should be.” His response was hard, but there was no missing the fact his irritation was aimed at himself. He set his palm on the small of my back, helping me through the gravel drive in my heels, an inch behind as we ascended the porch steps.

  We crossed the planks. That tension wound higher with each step until we were nothing but needy pants at my door. Slowly, I turned around to face him.

  His presence sent a ripple of energy vibrating across the floorboards, the overwhelming sight of him the owner of my breath.

  He stood beneath the faint glow of the hurricane lamp that hung outside the door. A sculpture of sinewy muscle and raw strength, forged through years of obvious physical labor. Every inch of him was rugged, from those roughened, callused hands to the crinkles set deep at the edges of his eyes.

  The man was a carving of pure, daunting beauty.

  “What exactly am I supposed to be afraid of, Rex?” My brow twisted, and my voice quieted with the admission. “Because when I’m around you, the last thing I feel is afraid.”

  “I fuck everything up, Rynna, and the only thing I’ve got to offer you is my mess. I can’t do this.”

  Restraint rumbled in his chest, the sound so deep I felt it shake the ground beneath my feet.

  I gently cupped one side of his rugged face. “I’m not afraid.”

  It was a promise.

  An appeal.

  “You should be,” he grated. “Warned you, my shit doesn’t ever end well.”

  “Maybe that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  He groaned and he planted his hands high above my head. The man panted above me, torn, desperate, his nose just brushing mine. “God damn it, Rynna. God damn it.”

  I felt the moment he broke. When the thread pulled too tight and this mesmerizing man snapped. His mouth descended on mine.

  Overpowering.

  Overwhelming.

  Dizzying.

  Lips and tongue and nips of teeth.

  And those hands. They were on my face. My neck. My waist. Somehow, I managed to hold on to him and spin away as I fumbled with the lock. He pressed against my backside, his cock against my bottom, and his mouth leaving a trail of fire at the side of my neck. We stumbled into the darkness of my house, breaking apart as I turned to face him.

  The only light trickled down from the lamp I’d left on upstairs.

  Slowly, he clicked the door shut behind him. We stood there, two feet away from each other, staring.

  Chests heaving.

  Before we collided.

  A tangle of tongues and bodies.

  The man frantic, trying to touch me everywhere.

  “What am I doing? Fuck, what am I doing?” he muttered incoherently, kissing me deeper. Madder. Wilder.

  I pushed up on my toes and tore my mouth from his so I could kiss down the strong column of his throat. His head thudded back against the door, his entire body pressing against it as if he needed it to keep him standing.

  He grated my name, and I kept kissing at his throat while I worked free the button on his jeans, hands shaking.

  Every reservation spun out of control.

  Out of reach.

  It was only spurred further when the defined muscles of his abdomen jumped and twitched beneath my touch, when he mumbled, “You’re killing me, Rynna. Fucking killing me.”

  Desire rippled from him in heady waves.

  And I felt so brave and bold, my kisses brazen as I nipped at the hollow of his throat, my fingers sure as I inched down his zipper.

  Before I could consider it—the ramifications and the repercussions and the distinct threat to my heart—I dropped to my knees and pulled his jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs.

  I refused to think of anything but setting him free.

  Hoping he’d find a little of that freedom in me.

  Even if it was only for a few stolen moments.

  But God, I was unprepared. Just an unsuspecting, naïve fool when his thick cock bobbed out in front of me, level with my eyes.

  Engorged and hard.

  As big and ruggedly beautiful as the rest of him, the fat head already dripping with his need.

  A flood of desire rushed me, and my stomach twisted into a thousand knots. It incited an ache in the deepest part of me. My core was a ball of fire. Heat spreading fast and throbbing between my thighs.

  I pressed them together as if it might offer relief, my mouth dry, my heart thrashing against its boundaries.

  Racing ahead of me as if it already knew our destination.

  Those big hands were suddenly on the sides of my head. He forced me to look up at him. Hunger glinted in his eyes, a dangerous cocktail of sorrow and need and restraint.

  That mesmerizing sage deepened to steel. It was when I knew he’d taken another turn.

  All needy, dominant man.

  “Is this what you really want? You want me to fuck that sweet mouth?”

  I shivered with the promise of his words. Again caught off guard by this man who’d left me on unstable ground.

  “I just want to make you feel good,” I whispered.

  He was so hard. Every inch of him. From the clench of his jaw to the ripple of his stomach to his length that protruded and dipped and bounced in front of me.

  The tip barely grazed my lips. My tongue flicked out and swept across the velvet flesh.

  Rex hissed. “Fuck . . . Rynna. I can’t fucking do this. This is wrong. So fucking wrong.”

  But instead of pushing me away, he tugged me closer. A raw groan escaped him when I wrapped both my hands around him at the base and sucked his crown into my mouth.

  He rasped a curse and rocked forward. Control slipping. Control I somehow knew he used as a defense. As a way to keep everyone at arm’s length.

  My tongue pressed at the underside of his cock, and I pulled him deeper.

  Drawing him in.

  Slowly.

  Just as slowly as I began to work him with my hands.

  And maybe I should have known I was in trouble when I began to shake. When the entire room spun at the feel of him. At the impact of him.

  At the way I completely succumbed when he muttered, “That mouth,” as he hooke
d his fingertips below my jaw, drawing my eyes up to meet his.

  His thumbs brushed the curve of my cheeks before he moved them to the edge of my lips. His eyes flashed with something tender. Soft and gentle.

  Before something else entirely took them over. Something raw. Possessive. Intense.

  His hips began to snap, jutting forward. He pressed himself deeper into my mouth. Filling me so full I struggled not to gag. So turned on I writhed where I knelt on the floor. The man so powerful I had to surrender.

  “God . . . Ryn . . . Ryn . . . feels so good. Fuck . . . so good. That mouth.”

  A flood of words poured from his mouth as he fucked mine.

  Wildly.

  Madly.

  Greedily.

  And God. I liked it. I liked it that he’d taken control. Liked that he stood over me, taking what I wanted to give. Liked that I held the power to make him moan.

  I liked him.

  I liked him so much. More than I should. In a way that was getting messy. In a way that was soft and fragile, breakable, as it spun the most complex web inside me. Strands of want and ribbons of need.

  “Rynna . . .” He grunted my name, a deep, reverberating utterance that echoed the walls. I swallowed around him, taking him as deep as I possibly could. Every part of me ached. My jaw and my heart and that needy throb that begged at the juncture of my thighs.

  His thrusts turned rough. Hard and demanding. “Harder . . . please . . . take it.”

  I pumped him savagely, just as ruthlessly as he took my mouth, my hands picking up the same frantic rhythm as his assault.

  And I could feel it. His balls tighten and lift. The ripple of his abdomen, those powerful thighs straining.

  That electricity licked and lapped.

  Striking.

  “God damn it, Rynna. God damn it.”

  His hips snapped twice more.

  Frantic and frenzied.

  Before every glorious inch of him went rigid. A tightly keening bow.

  He pulsed with his orgasm, and his head kicked back on a guttural roar as he let himself go.