Truth & Temptation

by Riley Edgewood

"Oh, that?" I affect as bored a tone as I can. "That's old news."

  His grin is quick, sharp and infectious. He closes the distance to me. "Your turn."

  "For what?" I blink up at him, all innocence.

  "Say it again," he demands.

  "You're bossy." I fight a smile as wide as a yawn.

  "Say it again." His voice is lower, and there's a muscle twitching in his jaw. He tightens his grip.

  I squirm in his arms, purposefully rubbing myself against his body. "You can't tell me what to do outside the office."

  "Let's play make believe." He walks me backward toward the bed. "This is my office." When we get to the bed, he yanks me around and pushes me forward onto my hands. And nerves start to synchronize in my belly. The hottest flash of longing zapping them all in a row. "And this," he says, his hands at my waist, holding me in place, "is my desk. And if you don't tell me what I want to hear, I'm going to keep you bent over it and tease the words out of you."

  I snort, and though unladylike, it releases an entire flock of giddy relief. We're in love. We're about to have sex, and he wants me to tell him I love him again first. "Now you're tempting me not to say it."

  He leans over me, his scruffy chin rubbing against my shoulder, and he nips at my earlobe. "What if I promise to tease you anyway. Will you tell me before I do?"

  I push us up from the bed and twist around in his arms, because I want to face him when I say the words. It takes about a year and a half for my mouth to release its grin to let them out. "I love you, Alec Chambers. And I'll say it whenever you want me to, forever."

  His expression darkens in this delicious sort of way, and he kisses me, biting my lower lip before he pulls away. "Again."

  "I love you." I jolt when he draws my camisole down, his thumb grazing my nipple, his pupils going wide in his dark, dark eyes.

  "Again." He pushes me back until I catch myself on the bed, and he pushes himself between my legs.

  "I love you."

  He bunches the fabric of my tank top in his hands and rips it. The sound tears through the room, and my shirt splits right down the middle. Now he drops his gaze, and I do too, to my stomach. It quivers, and my breasts rise and fall with the quickening of each breath I take.

  "That was new," I say.

  "Again." He drops before me, taking his time, dragging his hands down my body, roughly, perfectly. He bites my stomach. He growls against my skin. He pauses at my pajama shorts, looking up, with a steady, commanding gaze. "I said, again."

  "I love you." Somehow I get the words out even without any breath left in my lungs. He pulls my shorts down. Underwear with them. And once he's dragged the fabric down to the floor, he slides his hands up the insides of my legs, pushing against them until I widen my stance and I think I'm going to fucking die.

  "Again." His gaze holds mine so intensely my entire body starts to spark, and his fingers are touching me, tickling me, pulling my skin apart. "Tell me."

  "I love you." This comes out barely a whisper, and before I've finished speaking, he licks me. Long. Slow. His tongue rolling over me in a way that forces a moan from deep in my chest. He doesn't drop eye contact, and the slow swivel of his face against me nearly makes me collapse. With one hand, I twist the comforter between my fingers, and I grab his hair with my other, gripping his head while his tongue slips, slips, slips through me.

  He pauses, purposefully breathing hot air over the sensitive flesh spread before him, and I yank his hair so hard it shocks him. His mouth twists in a wicked grin.

  "I want you inside of me," I say, panting. "I need you."

  "Say it."

  "I love you." I match his grin. "Now please fuck me."

  His quick intake of breath makes me laugh—and then he levels me with a look so intense, I forget to breathe.

  "I love you so fucking much." He says it like a threat, like a promise. He says it like it's everything. And he's rising now, trailing his tongue along my skin. The room is filled with the sounds of my breathing, finally remembered, and with the clanking of his belt buckle coming undone, with the rustling of his jeans as he shoves them down his legs. He pauses for the shortest moment to rip his shirt off.

  "I love you," he says, kissing me, lifting me and tossing me on the bed and easing himself over me. "I love you."

  "Listen here," I say, grabbing his face and returning the lip bite from earlier. "I'm all for your manhandling tendencies in the bedroom, but let's establish some ground rules. I get to be in charge sometimes."

  In a move I'm quite proud of, I wrap my leg around his and roll us until I'm on top of him. And, okay, he probably helps it along, but a girl can enjoy her moments regardless. He glances between our bodies, his wicked grin widening. "You want to ride me, kitten, believe me, you'll get no complaints."

  A lesser girl might flee at the size of his erection, but the thing is…I've never been one to back away from a good challenge. And this? It's the absolute fucking best.

  "Kitten?" I ask, dryly—though it thrills me to my core that he still calls me this. "Let's see which of us is the first to purr."

  I wrap one hand around him—and lick my lips when he jerks against my palm. I lift on my knees, and I lower myself over him, onto him.

  He moans, and when I begin to rock my hips, falls silent, the look on his face one so full of pleasured intensity my entire body shivers to have it directed at me.

  Or…

  Maybe I shiver at the way he feels inside of me. Hard and slick and huge. He fills me.

  When he thrusts himself harder into me—faster, too—I grab the ridges of his ab muscles to steady myself, and I slam my hips over him, back and forth and side to side and holy motherfucking hell I've never felt so good in my entire life.

  And then he reaches out to grab my breasts, flickering his thumbs over my nipples in the rhythm I ride him with until they're so tight against his caresses I bite my tongue to keep from begging him to pinch them harder, to help ease some of the way he's made them ache. He does it anyway.

  "I love you," he says.

  And he says it again, fiercer this time, as he slides his hands down my body, down, down, all the way down, to use his fingers against me.

  With me.

  Against me.

  With me.

  In circles.

  With varying pressure.

  Until that pressure sinks through to the core of me, expanding in my belly, hot and fierce and spinning.

  Until my head falls back, and I grip his thighs and discover how much deeper he can go from this angle.

  Until I'm crying-whimpering-moaning his name, which maybe makes me the first to purr.

  But it's not long till he's the first to roar, so I'm pretty sure I'm the winner.

  If these things need keeping track of.

  Pretty sure they don't.

  But it doesn't keep a smug smile from my face anyway.

  Until he kisses it off of me, and we start all over again.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  WE SLEEP MOST of the day away. And when we wake again, he slips into me with a sigh that twists into a moan that twists into another roar.

  And then again.

  And then I tell him I have to take a break for at least twenty-four hours. "I'm still getting used to this," I say, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. "I'd like to be able to walk tomorrow."

  His laugh is loud and rich, and he pulls me against him, and we doze some more.

  When he next opens his eyes, I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, fresh from a shower. The sheet of paper containing my father's contact information is in my hand, still folded.

  "You want to talk about it?" he asks, rising to wrap his arms around me.

  "No." But in his arms, I instantly relax, and I speak about it anyway. "What if…what if he's a convict. Or worse? What if the number's wrong? What if he doesn't want to hear from me?"

  "But what if he does?" Alec asks.

  And that one question changes everything.

  I stan
d and I slip the paper back into the drawer, closing it.

  "You aren't going to call him?"

  I shake my head. "Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe in a week. Or a month." I turn toward him. "I need a little bit more time to adjust to the fact that he's out there and to the possibility that he might want to know about me. As long as you'll hold my hand when I do."

  "I'll hold your hand anytime you ask." He rises, crossing to me and kissing me. "And plenty of times when you don't."

  "Go shower," I murmur against his mouth, glowing. I start to step away, but he holds me at an arm's length.

  "Listen," he says, his expression serious enough to twist my stomach. "Last week, you brought up me returning to school, like you thought this could end when that happens."

  "But you reassured me," I say. "I don't think that anymore. I get it. I was—"

  "I need to know you really get it," he say, running his thumbs over my collarbones, making me start to tremble—again. "This—you and me?—this is it for me, kitten. One year of school between us and then I'm home for good. Or we can go wherever you want—wherever your career takes you. Us, I mean. Because it's you and it's me and it's final. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

  "That you love me," I say, the corners of my lips rising so high they feel like they're halfway up my cheeks. "That you want to love me forever."

  His eyes soften, they dance, they blink…and when they look into mine again, they're full of pleasure. "I will love you forever."

  When I close my eyes, I can envision the outline of our future. The details are blurry, but his shape and mine—they're together through it all. I don't know how I got so lucky. I don't know how we got so lucky.

  But it happened.

  I kiss him. I kiss him hard. I kiss him sweet and soft. I kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until there's no way he'll ever doubt my response. "Same goes, Alec."

  "Good," he says, biting my lower lip. "Just so we're clear."

  "Crystal."

  After one more lingering kiss, he slips into the shower, and, when the grumbles of my stomach grow louder than the leftover euphoria in my mind, I head out of the room to fix us something to eat.

  I walk straight into a room of my friends. Cassidy, Vera, Gage… They're all looking at me with expectant, shit-eating smiles.

  "What?" I ask, ignoring the matching smile that's tugging so hard at my own mouth.

  "We weren't sure if you were ever coming out," Gage says, sipping a beer.

  "We also weren't sure exactly what sorts of sports you had going on in there," Cassidy adds, wrapping me in a hug. "Sounded intense. Did you score?"

  I open my mouth to make a ballsy sort of statement—and then I shut it again and head to the fridge for a hard cider. There's an array of Mexican food on the table, and I dig in, ignoring their protests and demands for information. I offer a plate to Alec when he steps out a few minutes later, shirtless, with wet hair. He looks as shocked as I felt when I realized we had a bit of an audience waiting for us.

  I think it's the first time I've ever seen him embarrassed.

  And, because of it, I can't stop giggling. All the way through introducing him to Gage, and re-introducing my best friends.

  Later, when an unfortunately shirted Alec is bouncing quarters in cups of beer with Gage, Cassidy nudges me. "Okay. Now you have to tell me. How was it?"

  "Sorry I made you ditch your beach weekend," I say.

  She waves my words away. "I think Quinn was relieved for us to go, honestly. She had some of her own stuff going on. Now. Stop stalling. I want details, Teag. Come on." Her words are teasing, playful. Then she pauses, considering. "God. Sorry. It's none of my business. Old habits and all…"

  I tell her I don't mind her question and she doesn't need to apologize—who could blame her for being curious? Especially with all the tall tales I've spent the past few years telling. "But you know… I'll keep it to myself all the same." I glance at Alec, pressing my lips together to suppress a smile. Because what we do in the bedroom? Hell, what we do anywhere…

  It's all ours.

  And there's something really fucking special about that.

  He catches me the next time my eyes wander his way, and he mouths, "I love you."

  I mouth it right back.

  I've never known such happiness.

  Thanks for reading!

  Want more Alec & Teagan? Want know what really happened the night after the bar, when Teagan let her secret slip—from Alec's point of view? Or what about when Teagan contacts her father for the first time? Leave a review on an e-book retailer, and you will receive those two bonus scenes!

  After you leave a review, email the page link to summerlovebooks@gmail.com and I will personally send you the bonus content.

  Also in the SUMMER LOVE SERIES

  Rock & Release

  Surf & Surrender

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  AND! For even more exclusive content and reveals and just fun conversation—come join my Facebook group, Riley & Crew!

  xo, Riley Edgewood

  PS. You can also find more of my books as they become available HERE at my Amazon author profile.

  Riley lives in Northern Virginia and spends most of her time with her characters, playing with her toddler and husband, and pretending she knows how to be an adult. Former dancer. Current writer. Lifelong lover of accessories, books, and the beach. And cats. Can't forget the kitties, of which she has two.

  Visit RileyEdgewood.com to contact Riley! She loves hearing from her readers!

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  Acknowledgements

  There are not enough thank yous in the world to send everyone who helped to make this book what it is, especially:

  Katy Upperman, Alison Miller, Elodie Nowodazkij, Elizabeth Briggs, and Tracey Neithercott. You girls are brilliant writers, and I'm blessed—beyond blessed—to have you in my corner. That you made the time to read this so quickly and so thoroughly during your busy lives means so, so much to me. And your feedback was (as always) invaluable. (And Liz—thank you for the title!) And thank you, Cindy Thomas, for your unwavering encouragement.

  My spreadsheet girls. As always, thank you for keeping me on track!

  My hideaway girls. You guys are the fucking best.

  All the readers and bloggers who've been so wonderful along my author journey. Especially Silvana Reyes from Hopeless Book Lovers & NA Source—and everyone in Riley & Crew. You guys give me such huge heart eyes.

  Stephanie Parent. Copyeditor extraordinaire. Thank you!

  Cait Greer. For all your paperback formatting—you're the best, and someday I'm totally going to hug you.

  Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations. For yet another lovely cover.

  Nelson. For talking about equity firms with me, and for helping me find the time to write.

  Sweet girl. For just being your sweet, sassy, hilarious self. I love you.

  GABLE (The Powers That Be, Book 1)

  Copyright © 2014 Harper Bentley

  Summer, two weeks before class:

  You know that feeling you get when you meet someone and feel as if you've known them for a lifetime? As if you're just connected in some way?

  Yeah, that didn't happen the first time I met Gable Powers. Matter of fact, I didn't like him one bit.

  Oh, I know about all the Powers boys now. I actually knew about them by the first day of school since it seemed as if every woman on campus couldn't stop talking about how each brother was just as gorgeous as the next, and things like, "Omigod! The Powers brothers are so hot!" or "Aren't they just the cutest you've ever seen?" were proclaimed almost everywhere I went the entire first week of school. From listening in on these chicks wax rhapsodic over these brothers, if they were anything less than Nick Bateman clones, well, then I'd be highly disappointed. But from their conversations, I learned the Powers were from Seatt
le, all of them went to Hallervan, Zeke was a senior who played on the football team, Lochlan was a freshman who was some kind of computer genius, Ryker was a sophomore wrestler and Gable was a junior. I had yet to figure out what his superpower was, but I can honestly say that when I first met him, I couldn't have cared less.

  My up-close-and-personal with Gable Powers left me less than thrilled, and when I finally figured out who he was and said something later about it to my new roommate, I got a stare of disbelief which made me roll my eyes.

  So here's how it all went down.

  I'd answered an ad in the Seattle Times for a roommate. On my way to meet Amy (fellow sophomore who'd eventually become my new roomie), I'd had a flat tire and had to pull over in an area of the city I was unfamiliar with—hell I was unfamiliar with the entire friggin' place—and, of course, it'd been raining. As a farm girl, I knew how to change a tire, had no problem changing a tire, but per Dad's instructions, I called AAA and stayed in my car waiting for someone to show up, kind of feeling like a wuss for doing so. I knew I could've done it and been on my way in no time but I decided to let Dad parent me for a change. Not that he wasn't a good father; it's just that I was majorly independent.

  Needless to say, I was a little surprised when a black pickup truck stopped behind me and a guy got out, almost immediately after I'd hung up with the auto service. I mean, I'd heard AAA was fast, but come on. The guy had come to the driver's side and when he'd tapped on the window of my little Honda, I'd seen the full sleeve tattoo on his muscular arm and my eyes had bugged out.