Tease Me (The Temptation Duet Book 2)

by Roxy Sloane

I struggle to think of another way out, but there’s nothing. He’s got me, just like he said. If that video gets out, then I’m ruined. I’ll be humiliated and shamed. Not just now, but forever.

  And Max will do it, too. He’s the cruelest man I’ve ever met, and he’ll happily tear my whole life apart just to prove a point. He’ll make sure everyone sees it. Friends, employers, my parents . . .

  Oh God, my parents!

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?” I swallow back my panic, trying to think clearly. “What’s to stop you from sending the video out after the wedding?”

  Max rolls his eyes. “I won’t want my wife to be revealed as a cheap slut. I’ve got my reputation to consider here. Think of it as insurance: once you’re a Mainwaring, you’ll be safe. I’ll need to protect the family name.”

  It makes twisted sense, in a way. Still, I can’t imagine going through with it: saying those vows, touching him, kissing him—

  “Oh God, you don’t want us to . . . ?”

  “Consummate our marriage? I’m offended, darling.” Max smirks. “And no. This is strictly a business arrangement. We’ll need to play the part in public, of course. Holding hands, kissing, that kind of thing. But I have no interest in going where so many men have gone before. Who knows what I’d catch?”

  I bite back my anger. There’s nothing I’d love more than to grab that lamp from the table and smash it across his face, but I have to stay calm. I have to be smart.

  My whole life is at stake here, and I can’t let Max destroy it all.

  “How long would we have to be married?” I ask, trying to think this through.

  “On paper?” Max shrugs. “The will doesn’t say how long I have to stay married. A year, maybe less if the old bitch manages to kick the bucket sooner.”

  A year? My skin crawls even thinking about spending another five minutes with him.

  “Don’t look so sad.” Max smirks. He knows he’s got me now. “Hundreds of women would love to be in your shoes right now. And what the hell, maybe I’ll throw you a bone in the prenup, since I’ll be making millions from the deal.”

  I turn away and go to the windows, desperately thinking to find another way. But there is none. That video is the anchor around my neck, and if I don’t give Max what he wants, he’ll use it to drag me so low, I’ll never see daylight again.

  I have no other choice. I have to do what he wants—at least for as long as it takes to find some other way out of this.

  “Fine.” I finally turn back, defeated. “You win. I’ll marry you.”

  Max breaks into a smug, triumphant smile. “I knew you weren’t as stupid as you looked. Oh, don’t pout about it, you’re about to make me a very happy—and rich—man.”

  Max pulls a ring box from his pocket, and I reluctantly slide that hideous Mainwaring diamond back on my left hand. It feels like a shackle now, more than ever before.

  He checks his watch. “We better get moving, we’re meeting everyone for lunch. I thought we’d announce that we’re moving the wedding up. We’ll need to act fast if everything is going to be ready next week.”

  “Next week?” I echo, horrified.

  “The sooner the better. I’m not fucking around with Sylvia’s weak heart. Knowing my luck, the bitch will keel over before we make it down the aisle. We’ll just tell them we can’t wait. Madly in love, yada yada.” Max looks me up and down. “You need to change first. Wear that pink dress I bought you, the one with the collar. And for God’s sake, stop looking like I just killed your puppy. If you don’t sell this wedding, that video goes live, remember?”

  “I remember.” I walk quietly to my bedroom, tears stinging in my eyes. I stare at the closet and feel like the earth is opening up beneath my feet.

  Just an hour ago, I felt on top of the world. Like I was finally moving on with my life—with a man who cared about me. Now, I’m staring down the barrel of a prison sentence, and I can’t see any escape.

  There’s a sharp knock on the door. “Get a move on in there,” Max orders from outside. “We can’t keep them waiting.”

  I quickly change and rejoin him in the living room. But when I step out, he’s holding up my phone with a scowl. “Your boyfriend’s calling.”

  My heart stops. Jase.

  I reach for the phone, but Max snatches it back. He sends the call to voicemail, then clicks through and deletes Jase’s number. “You won’t be needing this again, will you?” The look in his eyes is full of spiteful glee. “I mean it, Chloe. Unless you want your little sex tape all over the internet, you won’t so much as blink in Jase Banner’s direction. No calls, no meetings, and no fucking around. You don’t want to test me,” he adds meanly. “Not when my entire fucking fortune is on the line. Got it?”

  I gulp back a protest, and force myself to nod. “Got it,” I echo meekly. “But . . . I’m supposed to meet him now. I have to tell him something.”

  I can’t bear to think of Jase waiting for me. Not knowing why I haven’t come around.

  “You know what he’s like,” I add quickly, trying to play on Max’s vanity and weakness. “He’ll track me down. Make a big scene in front of everyone. It could wreck your whole plan.”

  Max sighs, but he nods. “Fine, you can tell him to get lost.”

  He offers me the phone, and I reluctantly take it. I can’t bear Jase to know the truth about that video, and Max’s awful plan, so I don’t even try. I just tap out a simple message.

  You’re out of my system now. Goodbye.

  Max takes the phone back and inspects it before I hit send. As the message disappears, it feels like my heart is breaking.

  “Goodbye, asshole,” Max snorts. “Now, let’s go break the happy news!”

  Max steers me out of the apartment, and I follow, numb. Just like that, it’s over. I can tell myself it was just sex with Jase, that we never made any promises, but still, it feels like I’m falling inside. It hurts too much to even think about him and everything I have to leave behind.

  But what other choice do I have? My past has caught up with me, and now I have to pay the price.

  I have to marry Max or I’ll be ruined for good.

  14.

  JASE

  Six days. Six goddamn days since Chloe blew me off, and I’m just about ready to burn the world down.

  You’re out of my system now. Goodbye.

  I can’t fucking believe it. After everything, she’s just washed her hands of me like I didn’t give her the best sex of her life?

  Not just sex. This was more than that . . .

  I ignore the hurt and focus on the rage instead. Yeah, anger, that’s the trick. I’ve already beaten the living daylights out of every asshole who stepped into the boxing ring, but it doesn’t come close to soothing the beast that’s raging inside.

  No girl walks away from me—not before I’m done with her. And Chloe . . . fuck, Chloe, she’s something else.

  I know I said we were just scratching the itch, but I haven’t come close to having my fill. Not when dreams of her sweet, wet mouth fill my head, and I wake up hard and frustrated, wanting to sink into that sweet cunt and fuck her until she never dreams of leaving me again.

  “Dude, you need to get over it. Again.” Logan shakes his head. We’re at the bar on a Friday night, trying to drink my troubles away. But there isn’t enough whiskey in the world to numb this black mood. “No chick is worth this hassle.”

  “She’s not just some chick,” I say automatically. “And you don’t get it. Everything was great. We were having a great time, and she just blows me off like this? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Logan gives me a careful look.

  “What?” I demand, draining my glass. “Spit it the fuck out.”

  He sighs. “Look, you said it yourself, this was about sex. Maybe she just decided not to get in any deeper. Spare herself the heartache when you decide it’s time to move on.”

  “But I’m not moving on.”

  Logan laughs. “C’mon, buddy. I�
�ve known you what, four years now? And in that time, have you ever had a real relationship? Scratch that,” he adds. “Have you ever even gotten past a second date?”

  I stop. “No,” I admit through gritted teeth. “But that’s not the point. We agreed here, no strings, no drama.”

  “So maybe she wants strings.” Logan shrugs and beckons the bartender for another round. “Most girls do, in the end. And if she wants something real, then you can’t blame her for moving on. I mean, it’s not like you’re going to settle down and be all couple-y, taking her to brunch.”

  He laughs again, as if the thought of me and Chloe eating waffles is too fucking hilarious to stand. “I’m telling you, she did you a favor. Would you have preferred her laying it on thick, trying to guilt you into something serious? Hell no.” Logan pats me on the shoulder. “Time to move on, and let her go find her Mr. Right. While you find another chick to bang right now.”

  I know what he’s saying makes sense, but every muscle in my body recoils from it. “It’s no use.” I shake my head. “I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work.”

  “You mean . . . ?” Logan glances down meaningfully. “There are pills for that.”

  “What? Fuck no!” I glare. “I’m good to go any time, any place. But every time I come close to taking some girl home, I think about Chloe. And then I don’t want anyone but her.”

  “Listen to yourself.” Logan smirks. “You’re whipped.”

  “No.”

  “Sorry to break it to you, but you’ve got it bad.” He grins. God, he’s just loving seeing me like this. I would wipe that smile right off his face, but he’s just about the only friend I have left—who I haven’t beaten senseless in the ring, at least. “The mighty Jase Banner, brought low by love. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “This isn’t love,” I growl at him. “This is her thinking she can call the shots. It doesn’t work that way with me. I’m the one in control.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, buddy,” Logan laughs. “But I’ll be going home with a hot little number tonight, while you’re sitting drinking alone with your hand for company.”

  He finishes his drink and smiles at a redhead across the bar. “There’s my cue,” he says. He slaps me on the back and makes his way over, and it’s not even ten seconds before the girl is following him to the door.

  I sit, scowling. Fuck. He’s having a laugh, all this talk of love. I’m not pussy-whipped, I’m just pissed she’s decided to quit before I’m good and ready.

  Like she could get it better from anyone else. Hell no. I saw the look in her eyes when I fucked her, one hard inch at a time. Nobody’s ever given it to her like I do.

  So why is she leaving me cold?

  “Let me guess, bad breakup?” A sweet voice makes me turn. A cute little blonde has edged in beside me at the bar. She smiles up at me, all pink glossy lips and flirty smile. I check her out. Plump breasts jiggling out of a tight tank top, short skirt, high heels.

  Yeah, she’s looking for a fuck tonight.

  “What was that?”

  “You.” She smiles. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing you’ve just broken up. Too bad,” she adds, resting a hand on her arm. “Her loss is my gain.”

  The girl gives me a come-on grin, and I think about taking her home. Or maybe not even that far: she looks like she’d be down to fuck wherever. In the bathroom stall, maybe, panting my name up against the wall. Or bent over the hood of my car in some deserted spot, screaming sweet Jesus as I give her G-spot the rubbing it’s needed her whole damn life.

  But even trying to imagine it, her face blurs. I see Chloe, instead. Those brown eyes widening as I thrust in fast, that sweet mouth begging me to fuck her harder, take her deeper. The look on her face when I send her over the edge.

  Goddammit. What is this hold she has over me? It’s torture, knowing she’s out there in the city somewhere—and I’m not going to be fucking her tonight.

  Unless you man the fuck up and do something about it.

  I finish my drink and give the blonde an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight.” I leave her there looking for some other lay and head for the door. I don’t know why I’ve left it this long, but I’m going to find Chloe and get me some answers.

  And then I’m going to show her we’re not over yet. Not by a long shot.

  I find my car and drive over to her place, damn near breaking the speed limit on my way. My frustration grows with every mile. She’s been running hot and cold on me since the moment we met. First she wants me, then she pushes me away. But she comes back every time—and this will be no different.

  I pull up outside her place and go hit the buzzer. No reply. Dammit. The lights are off in her apartment, so nobody’s home. Where the fuck is she? The last time she dropped off the face of the earth, she was out at that old house by the beach, so maybe she’s back there again.

  Either way, I’m going to find her.

  But just as I’m about to go drive two hours in the dark to give her a piece of my mind, another car pulls up outside. It’s a flashy black McLaren, and I see red when I recognize who’s behind the wheel.

  Maxwell fucking Mainwaring.

  He gets out of the car—and so does Chloe.

  My frustration reaches boiling point. What the fuck?

  I stride down the steps. “What the hell?” I demand, furious. Chloe is dressed up like a stranger in some prim little blouse, her hair yanked back and a nervous look on her face. “You blow me off to go out with this asshole?”

  I can’t believe it. He threw her away like she was garbage, and she still came back for more?

  “Look at me, Chloe,” I yell. “Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

  “Easy there.” Maxwell smirks. “Don’t speak to my fiancée like that.”

  His what?

  “You didn’t hear?” Maxwell laughs at me. “The wedding’s back on. In fact, we’ve moved it up. This time next week, Chloe will be Mrs. Mainwaring.”

  His words hit me like a fucking anvil.

  “Is this true?” I demand. “Tell me he’s lying.”

  Chloe looks away, and I see the rock back on her hand. Fuck.

  “Come along, Chloe. We need to pick up your things for the party.” Maxwell snaps his fingers at her like a dog, and she obediently follows after him towards the door.

  I move to block her way.

  “Hey!” Maxwell protests, but I shove him back with one hand.

  “Talk to me,” I beg her. This is all wrong, but I don’t know what’s happening. “You can’t be serious about the wedding. You know what a fucking pussy this guy is.”

  Chloe swallows. She finally meets my eyes, and I can’t read her expression. She’s closed off. Shut down.

  “I’m serious,” she says quietly. “We’re getting married, the way we planned.”

  “I don’t understand. He can’t make you happy. Look at you, you’re fucking miserable!”

  “And you’re making a scene.” Chloe clenches her jaw. “I don’t know why this is such a big deal to you,” she continues. “You said we were scratching an itch, fucking each other out of our systems, remember? Well, mission accomplished. You’re out. And now I’m moving on with my life.”

  “With me,” Maxwell pipes up.

  I ignore him. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” I insist, keeping my gaze fixed on her. “What is it, Chloe? What’s this fucker doing to force you into this?”

  She presses her lips together. “He’s not forcing me. This is my choice. You thought I was after his money to start, didn’t you? So maybe the Mainwaring fortune is too big for me to resist.”

  “Bullshit!” I swear, but Chloe just shrugs.

  “It doesn’t matter what you think, Jase. I’m sorry,” she adds softly, resting a hand on my arm. “I wish things could be different, but maybe it’s for the best.” She looks up at me, pained. “The things I’ve done . . .” she whispers. “You’re better off without me—”


  “That’s enough,” Maxwell interrupts. “Come on, Chloe. Now!”

  “I’m sorry.” She drops her eyes and hurries past me.

  “Had enough?” Maxwell says sarcastically. “Nobody turns down the money in the end—but hey, you already know that. You took a hundred grand to fuck her, so why are you surprised she’s out for what she can get, too?”

  They head inside and the door slams. I’m left on the steps feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. I can’t believe Chloe would sell me out like this. Hell, I can’t believe she’d sell herself. There’s no fortune in the world worth her self-respect, but I don’t know what else to believe.

  She said it herself, it’s over. And I just made a fool of myself begging for one more try.

  Fuck, it hurts—more than I ever want to admit. I let myself believe that maybe this girl was different. Someone I could have a future with. But she’s made her bed—and now she gets to lie in it with Maxwell Mainwaring.

  I don’t understand it, but there’s no escaping the truth.

  Chloe’s gone for good.

  15.

  CHLOE

  The next week passes in a blur. I sit through Mainwaring family dinners and celebration brunches, forcing a smile while my heart is breaking inside.

  It’s over. Jase is gone for good.

  It still kills me to remember that scene on my steps when I lied through my teeth and told him I was choosing Max. I don’t know how he believed me, but maybe I’m a better liar than I ever figured, because I’ve been faking it for days now, and nobody’s noticed the difference. Max’s family, all their friends—everyone believes we’re still the perfect couple, so in love we just can’t wait another day to tie the knot.

  “I don’t know how you expect me to pull this off!” Andre the wedding planner despairs. We’re all sitting around in the fancy salon of the most exclusive bridal designer on the East Coast. “This kind of wedding takes months to plan. Years! And I’m supposed to throw it together with days to spare?”

  “We have the utmost confidence in your abilities,” Sylvia replies icily. “But if you don’t think you’re able to rise to the occasion . . .”