Tease Me (The Temptation Duet Book 2)

by Roxy Sloane

  It’s three o’clock in the afternoon, and I’m drunk.

  Totally wasted, out of my mind, not been this hammered since college kind of drunk. Keely ran a few errands and then got back from the store with the ice cream to find me necking a bottle of tequila.

  “His cock got me,” I explain, slurring. “That man has a monster cock. Like, epic. You know? Some guys strip down and you’re like, get that thing away from me! But Ash’s cock… I wanted to snuggle up with that thing…”

  “Oh boy,” Keely laughs, taking the bottle from me. “No more tequila for you.”

  “His butt is pretty hot too,” I add. “I just want to take a bite out of it.” I snap my teeth together. Then I frown. “Except his butt is married. I don’t do married. Except when I do. Do. Don’t.”

  “Easy there.” Keely looks around. “Is that your phone?”

  “Is that my phone what?” I sway in time to the music. Except I’m not sure if there’s music playing.

  “Ringing.” Keely plucks it off the couch.

  “Don’t!” I cry, lunging. I tackle her to the sofa. “It might be him!” I hiss in a loud whisper, as we wrestle for the phone.

  “Justine!” Keely wrenches away before bringing the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “I don’t want to talk to him!” I protest. Wait. Now the room’s spinning…

  I slide to the floor and lay very still. If I don’t move, the room stops too. Weird.

  “Yes, this is Justine’s phone.” Keely waves me silent. “Can I take a message?”

  She pauses. “Yes… Uh huh. Sure. She’s pretty busy, but she may have some time in her schedule tomorrow. Yes, great, I’ll call back to confirm.”

  Keely hangs up. “You’ll never guess who that was!”

  I groan. “I don’t feel too good.”

  “Babe?” Keely asks, as all the junk food I’ve been eating today suddenly rushes back up.

  “Hold that thought,” I mumble, scrambling to my feet and racing for the nearest bathroom. I collapse on my knees in front of the toilet and empty my stomach with a groan.

  That’s why I don’t drink tequila.

  Eventually, the nausea fades. After I brush my teeth and splash some cold water on my face, I head back into the living room, feeling embarrassed.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Keely laughs. “Don’t worry about it. You want to hear who was on the phone for you?”

  “Hit me,” I collapse on the couch.

  “Lucia diLorenzo.”

  I laugh. “The famous clothing designer? Sure, come on.”

  “I’m serious!” Kelly says. She can’t hide her excitement. “Okay, okay, it was her American CEO, but still. They want you to come in for an interview.”

  I sit up. Lucia’s designs are cutting edge and classy. The brand is way above my price range, but I have one of her skirts, and it’s the most gorgeous thing I own. An investment piece, something I’ll have for years. “An interview for what?”

  “A job, duh.” Keely grins. “Apparently, they’re looking for an in-house counsel for their legal team. No,” she corrects herself. “To head the legal team.”

  I blink. “Am I still drunk?”

  “Probably, but the offer is real.” Keely claps her hands together. “So shall I call them back and schedule it?” She reaches for my phone again.

  “Wait, wait,” I pause, my head spinning. “Slow down. I don’t understand. Why are they calling me? How do they even know I exist?”

  She shrugs. “It happens all the time. Headhunting. Your VideoMine win was all over the business papers. It makes sense someone would try to scoop you up.”

  “But a new job… I would have to move here.” I frown, thinking of Ash. I wanted to put as much distance as possible between us, not stick around in the same city.

  “Which would be awesome.” Keely beams. “I know I’m biased, but we would have such a great time.”

  I’m still trying to get my head around the job offer. “Did you say head of the whole legal team?”

  She nods. “You’d be calling all the shots.”

  My heart beats faster. “No asshole partners taking all the credit—and money. No more doing boring research for their cases. I could be the one giving all the research to someone else!”

  “And you could negotiate a killer raise,” Keely points out. “Plus a relocation package, benefits… And think of the perks. They’d probably outfit you in Lucia designs for life!”

  For the first time since I came face to face with Beatrice Pierce and my whole life came crashing down, I feel a small flash of excitement. “Do it now, pretty please. Call them back,” I tell her. “It wouldn’t hurt to take the meeting, right?”

  * * *

  The next afternoon, after taking a handful of Advil and drinking my weight in water, I’m sitting in a conference room at Lucia diLorenzo’s New York office with her executive team.

  I already want this job so much it hurts.

  “You’ll be in charge of our legal team, so we would look to you to build from the ground up,” the CFO tells me. “You’d be mainly focused on copyright and trademark issues, but we’re a creative company, so you never know what will come up.”

  I nod and pretend to take notes in a serious leather-bound file. The offices are bright and airy, a converted warehouse in the ultra-hip Meatpacking district. Everyone here looks like they just stepped out of a magazine shoot: not snooty or posh, but creative, hip and cool. Of the three people meeting me today, one is a bald gay guy with chic glasses and a three-piece suit; the CEO, Celine, has awesome tattoos snaking underneath her shift dress, and her assistant is wearing a crisp Oxford shirt and jeans.

  Jeans!

  Sure, they’re probably five hundred dollar designer denim, but still! It couldn’t be further away from the stuffy suits and old guys cluttering up the law office back in LA.

  Looking around, I can already tell, I’d fit right in.

  “There’s also a fair amount of travel,” the guy adds. “Paris, Tokyo, London.”

  I nod and scribble some more, hiding my elation.

  Negotiation 101: never let them see you’re interested.

  “But really, the main thing we can offer is autonomy,” Celine says. “Lucia needs someone who can get things done on their own.”

  “Did I hear my name?”

  I turn. The designer herself walks in. Holy shit! Lucia is petite, her long dark hair pulled back in an elegant bun, just as polished and perfect as the pictures I’ve seen in magazines. She’s wearing a long, loose dress and a jangle of metal bracelets.

  I bolt up from my chair. “It’s so great to meet you.” I hold out my hand to shake, but she clasps me in an enthusiastic hug and kisses me on both cheeks.

  “Justine,” she says warmly. “Have they been filling you in on the position?”

  I nod.

  “As you just heard, I need someone who can put out fires at a moment’s notice. We’re entering an exciting period in the company, expanding with new merchandising deals, subsidiary rights. I’ll need you to tell me what’s in my best interest,” she says with a smile. “Translate all the legal bullshit into plain English so I don’t get screwed.”

  I like her already.

  “Anyway, I have to catch a flight to Milano, but I wanted to meet you in person.” Lucia gives Celine a nod. “Please, consider our offer. I’d love to have you on board.”

  She glides out, with a couple of assistants trailing after her.

  I slowly sit back down. She’s so nice! I always thought famous fashion designers were bitchy control-freaks, but Lucia seems so down-to-earth.

  “Do you have any questions?” Celine asks.

  I pause. “I’m pretty settled in LA,” I say carefully. “It would have to be a fairly attractive offer for me to relocate.”

  They exchange smiles. Celine names a figure that’s more than double my current salary. “And of course, we provide relocation costs and a sizeable wardrobe allowance, in addi
tion to your discount on our new designs every season.”

  “Of course,” I echo, reeling. The number dances on the page. Holy shit!

  They must take my shock for reluctance, because Celine jumps in.

  “It’s all negotiable, of course. The point, Justine, is that we know you’re exactly the right lawyer for this position. We want you. Just tell us how to make it happen.”

  I leave the meeting in a daze. I asked for a couple of days to decide, and they fell over themselves agreeing.

  I wander down the street, trying to process it. This is unbelievable. A dream job, my own department, and work that would actually be fun and exciting. I should jump at a chance like this—but something holds me back.

  Ash.

  The thought of living in the same city as him is like a bucket of ice poured all over me. Sure, there are eight million people in New York, but I know him: he doesn’t give up easily, and once he finds out I’m back in town, he won’t rest until he sees me again.

  Seduces me again.

  I sigh. This is the chance of a lifetime, but I feel broken up inside just thinking his name.

  He betrayed me. Sure, he swears there’s an explanation, but what excuse could he possibly have?

  I met his wife. I looked her in the eyes and saw the heartbreak there. I always swore, I would never be the one to break up a marriage, and I mean it, even now.

  Still, I want to call him. To reach out, and give him one last chance—

  No. I stop myself. He’s already had too many chances. I would have to be blind and stupid to let him in again after he betrayed me like this.

  He could have been the one.

  Which is why I can’t imagine staying in the city. But I don’t want to turn down the job either. This is about my career, my life. My heart.

  What the hell should I do?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JUSTINE

  After agonizing over my decision for the rest of the day, I give up. My pro/con lists aren’t getting me anywhere. Maybe I just need to sleep on it, and think about it in the morning with a clear head.

  Keely’s company, Ashcroft Industries, is hosting a big fundraising art auction tonight, so I decide to get glammed up and forget about myself for a few hours. I’m tired of all this fucked up self-reflection. My future and heartbreak can wait, but tonight is going to be about supporting Keely, showing gratitude for all the good things she’s done for me.

  “Oh my God!” She greets me at the ballroom, dressed up in a gorgeous floor-length gown. “You look amazing. The most beautiful woman in the room.”

  Vaughn clears his throat. “The second most beautiful woman,” he corrects her.

  Keely blushes as I give a little twirl. I put my future raise to good use at Barney’s, and picked out a slinky black number with a slit halfway up my thigh. “The possible future legal head for Lucia diLorenzo needs to look the part,” I say.

  She lights up. “You decided to take the job?”

  “I said possible,” I remind her. “And I don’t know yet. I’m still thinking.”

  “It’s a no brainer, right Vaughn?” Keely insists.

  He nods, looking amused. “Just think, if you moved here, you could come to fabulous events like this all the time.”

  I laugh at his dry tone. “What are you talking about? This looks amazing.”

  “It was all the party-planners,” Keely says, brushing off my praise. “I just sign the checks.”

  I look around. The Plaza Hotel ballroom is packed with society’s elite, all dressed up and ready to donate their cash. The walls are lined with paintings to be auctioned off: famous artists that could adorn my walls if I had a spare hundred grand to bid.

  “You’ve done a great job. I’m sure you’ll raise a ton of funds,” I congratulate her.

  She looks happy and content. Vaughn has his arm draped possessively around her, as if to say, ‘hands off,’ but Keely doesn’t seem to mind. She loves the attention as he flags down a waiter and passes her a glass of champagne. Vaughn leans in to whisper in her ear. Keely blushes pink.

  They’re so in love it hurts.

  That’s my cue. Nobody likes a third wheel.

  “I’m going to find a real drink,” I tell them brightly. “Then look around. See you later!”

  “Have fun.” Keely gives me a supportive look. She knows that underneath the blow-out and red lipstick, I’m still in pain over Ash.

  But the party is a good distraction. There’s plenty to see and eavesdrop on as I make my way to the bar: polished, perfect society wives as far as the eye can see.

  Beatrice Pierce would fit right in.

  I try to block the voice of insecurity, but it slips through all the same. The women here are just like her: the perfect hostesses, they air kiss each other and gossip about interior designers and vacation homes in Barbados. They were all born with a silver spoon in their mouths: private schools and debutante balls.

  Not like me, the girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

  Is it any wonder Ash chose a woman like this to stand by his side? He’s off to conquer the business world, and me, I wouldn’t fit in with these women if I tried.

  “Buy you a drink?”

  I turn. It’s Cam McCullough, Keely’s second-in-command at the company. I’ve met him in passing a couple of times, but I always liked what I’ve seen. A tall, handsome Scottish guy, his accent has a sexy edge to it. He flashes me a smile, his eyes drifting over me from head to toe.

  The look in his eyes is definitely approving.

  “It’s an open bar,” I reply, smiling.

  He laughs. “In that case, I’ll buy you two.” He gestures to the barman. “Whiskey. Glenfiddich.”

  “A man with taste,” I say, flirting.

  He gives me a smoldering smile. “I like to think so. Which is why I’m surprised to see you here alone tonight.”

  “Real smooth,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Seriously. I wouldn’t have thought the owner of that beautiful collar would let you out alone.”

  I pause, confused. I’m wearing the necklace Ash gave me. I couldn’t resist. “It’s not a collar,” I answer. “And nobody ‘let’ me out.”

  Cam raises his eyebrows. “My mistake. I thought—never mind.”

  He takes a sip of his drink, but his interest seems to fade. He’s still charming and warm, chatting about the crowd here tonight, but his eyes drift past me like he’s looking for something else.

  Then he stops and smiles. “I think your man has found you.”

  “What?”

  I turn.

  It’s Ash. He’s coming towards me.

  He’s wearing a tuxedo, his dark hair smoothed back, his white shirt crisp against his tan. Damn, he looks good.

  Shit.

  “I have to go,” I yelp, turning back to Cam. My heart is suddenly pounding, and every instinct is screaming at me to run. “Um, thanks for the drink!”

  I don’t wait for his reply before lurching into the crowd and winding my way in the opposite direction. I nearly spill my drink on partygoers as I hustle past, but I manage to duck down a hallway and slip out a side door, onto a hidden balcony.

  I catch my breath, trying to recover.

  Seeing Ash again was a shock to my system: lust and anger and grief all wrapped up in one.

  I gulp my whiskey, my hands shaking. Dammit. What’s he even doing here? All I wanted was some time to clear my head and figure out my future, but now the only thing I can think about is him.

  His hands… His mouth… Those eyes gazing at me intently as he thrusts inside me.

  I drain my drink and set the glass down, then grip the balcony railing. I let the insecurity get to me every time I think about Beatrice, but the truth is, I never felt insecure with Ash. He accepted me completely, and I never felt more comfortable than when I was hanging out with him. Even during the lawsuit, when we were battling on different sides, fighting with him was fun.

  It makes this hurt so much more
. He was the first guy I’d ever let myself open up to and really care about. This weekend in the Hamptons, I found myself wishing it could last forever: being together, laughing, talking, fucking…

  I could have grown old with him. A house. Kids. His and her bathrobes. He made me feel all this emotion, and then he just ripped it away.

  What am I supposed to do with all those feelings now?

  I hear the door open behind me. The music from inside gets louder. Probably some couple sneaking away for privacy, but that’s the last thing I want to see. I scoot into the corner, hiding by the ivy that covers the wall. Hopefully they’ll see the space is taken and find someplace else to fool around.

  Then I feel a hand on my bare shoulder.

  I flinch. The heat sears through me, and I know in a flash whose touch it is, even before I turn around and find Ash standing beside me.

  Too close. Too hot. Too off-limits.

  My heart aches. “No,” I cry, before he can say a word. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  “Because I love you,” Ash says, his gorgeous face set in determination. “I won’t let you push me away again, JJ. You’re going to hear me out this time. I need to tell you the truth.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ASH

  JJ tries to pull away, but I block her path, my hand firm but gentle on her shoulder. I have to make her listen. She needs to understand the truth.

  “Please,” I ground out the word. I’ve never been the kind of guy to ask permission, let alone beg, but I’ll do it now.

  I’ll do anything for her.

  JJ falters. I can see the anguish in her eyes, and I hate myself for putting it there. She’s so beautiful tonight: wild and bold, everything I always loved about her.

  I won’t let her go, not this time.

  “You were right, I lied,” I admit, while she’s still standing there. “Beatrice was my wife. I should have told you about her from the start.”

  JJ folds her arms. “Why didn’t you?” she demands.

  “Because she’s crazy. I mean it,” I add. “That woman is unstable. She trapped me into a shitty, loveless marriage, and now she refuses to let me go.”