Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  I swallow as a knot forms in my throat. It only happened once. He was drunk, as usual, and I don’t even know what I did—maybe I said something wrong—and the scariest expression I’ve ever seen came over his handsome face. His dark eyes filled with utter hatred and his hands went about my neck, crushing and painful.

  I kicked out at him, barely doing any damage but it seemed to break his rage. Rob dropped me and stormed out. I’d planned to leave. It was the breaking point. How did it go so wrong?

  A few days later the police came knocking, telling me he was dead.

  “You’re not pathetic, Sienna. You’re an amazing woman. You work hard and I know you worked hard at your marriage too. But it can only work if both of you are putting in the time. Rob didn’t deserve you.”

  I glance at him, mouth slightly ajar. I swear this man reads me better than anyone. His words make my heart swell at the same time as bringing all my emotions to the surface. Tears sting and I can’t hold them back. They trickle down my cheeks at first and then pour down. Nick takes me immediately into his arms, presses my head against his warm chest. My tears are probably making his shirt damp, but I can’t stop them.

  I can’t tell if it’s Rob’s death, my failed marriage or my loss of confidence I’m crying for. It’s so many things. It’s how confused I feel. It’s how weak I am. I let life take over and now I’ve got nothing left. Life happened to me and my decisions crushed me. I wish I could start over.

  Nick’s cologne works through my tears and I inhale deeply, though it comes out more of a snort. I’m beyond caring. I grip his arms and continue to cry, small sobs this time. He’s murmuring things, I don’t know what, but I enjoy hearing the rumble of his voice in his chest. His fingers are rubbing across my hair. He’s not very gentle but that’s okay, I like it. It kind of distracts me from my confusion. With the heat and smell of him, my sorrow eases and I draw slowly away, grimacing at the sight of my mascara staining his shirt.

  I swipe a hand across my cheek while he brushes my hair back. “I’m a mess,” I sniffle.

  “No, you’re beautiful.”

  I don’t believe him but he says it so sincerely that it softens me, and I can’t prevent the tiniest of smiles. His palms still rub across my cheeks, a thumb coming under my eye, probably in an attempt to fix my make-up.

  Staring into his blue eyes, my pulse beats erratically. For a moment, there is no one but us. Sounds are muted but sensations are inflamed. His rough fingers rasp across my skin, making my entire body heat and I’m sure he must be able to hear my heart thud. Nick’s pupils dilate. Do mine do the same?

  It happens slowly, but I’m still not ready for it. He lowers his head and his lips touch mine. It galvanizes me, like a sharp electric shock and I dig my nails into his shoulders. It’s only a small, tentative kiss but it might as well be the most passionate kiss in the world for the effect it has on me. His tongue, warm and inviting, touches my lips and we are on the path of no return.

  I gasp and open my mouth to him. Nick threads his fingers into my hair, angling me for a deeper kiss. When our tongues touch, he makes a basic, raw sound in the back of his throat. I’m not sure what he was eating or drinking but he tastes amazing. Like chocolate after you’ve been on a diet.

  This isn’t a tender kiss. It quickly turns erotic. My mind reels and I’m unable to focus on any coherent thought apart from the press of his chest against mine and the way my nipples harden at the contact. I bring my hands up to his jawline and touch the stubble there. He mutters my name as he pulls back slightly, only to plunder my mouth again. The sound of it on his lips, so harsh and desperate, makes my entire body pulse with need.

  Breathless, I hold on as the kiss slows and he takes a moment to explore each part of my mouth to… to savor me?

  When we finally part, my lips throb, along with the rest of me, and we are both panting for breath. He flattens his forehead against mine and we just sit for a moment as he cradles my face. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to go back to my life. But I don’t want this. I can’t do this.

  We’ve finally acted on the chemistry between us, in a moment of shared weakness and vulnerability, and it was such a mistake.

  Maybe Nick knows this as he pulls back slowly, flicking a thumb under my chin. “Come on, we best get you home.”

  Chapter Two

  Nick

  I blink away the sweat as I lift again. My muscles scream in protest and if my brow wasn’t dripping, I’d be able to see my grimace in the mirror stretching across the gym wall. The odor of old sneakers and metal grows stronger with each harsh inhale I take, but I savor it. To me, it smells like home. And life. There was a time I didn’t think I’d smell it ever again.

  The drops making my shirt cling to my chest remind me of Sienna’s tears as they soaked my shirt after the funeral. If I had it my way, she’d never cry again. I lift once more, teeth gritted, arms shaking. I know full well the pain will be worth it. I’ve suffered worse. Hell, once no one believed I’d stand again and now look, I’m fitter than I’ve ever been.

  Lowering the weights, I pause to swipe my brow with my T-shirt. I take a moment to study my arms, pumped from the workout. I ignore my chewed up calf. The gym at base is the only place you’ll catch me in shorts. The guys here understand it and have seen far worse but no civvie wants to see the ugly scar tissue on my leg where the shrapnel gouged a hole in it. Looks of sympathy I could do without. Because really, why should anyone feel sorry for me? I made it back alive. It’s the guys that died and their families who deserve the compassion.

  I smirk at my reflection. Besides, who wants to be the one guy who complains about his injury? I know soldiers who have had their legs blown off and still manage to climb a fucking mountain. What do I do? Push papers. Most of the time, I’m grateful to still be a part of the military. Maybe I’m institutionalized, because the idea of being on the outside, in civilian life, doesn’t exactly fill me with joy.

  But days like today—when I’m wired and edgy—are when I’d like to be out there, on patrol, eating damned sand, hunting down the enemy. The need to fight will pass eventually. Weirdly, it only seems to go when I’m with Sienna.

  Taking a drink of water, I stroll over to the benches and snatch my gym bag, chucking the bottle in it and reaching for my phone. I read her message again, my heart jumping in my chest. She’s played it cool since our kiss, and I’ve barely kept mine. The memory of those soft lips, warm tongue and hot perky breasts pressed against me has kept me up every night since.

  Sienna. I swear almost just saying her name in my mind makes me hard. And that was before I kissed her. I should never have been thinking of Rob’s wife that way and I always did my best to remain a gentleman, but he never treated her right. He cheated on her, ignored her, spoke to her like shit and, the sweet thing that she is, she just took it. I almost want to punish myself with another workout when I think about how much I let him get away with. You find yourself torn when it’s a fellow soldier, especially when it’s one you grew up with.

  I head for the showers and let the stinging cold water beat over me, maybe thinking of it as penance for not acting sooner. Rob and I had been friends since we were seven. We played at being soldiers. It’s all we ever talked of. But Rob changed and grew into someone I didn’t recognize. It was probably only after my accident that I realized just how bad it had gotten. Then spending time with Sienna sealed it for me. Rob didn’t deserve her and I needed her. But how could I turn on a brother? How could I break up a marriage and take Rob’s place? I was still half a fucking man with my mangled leg and if I was the one who broke things, how would I know Sienna really wanted me? I needed her to make the decision. The day she told me she was leaving him was the best day of my life. And then Rob got himself killed.

  Grimacing as I step out onto the dirty changing room floor, I towel off and change into jeans and a clean T-shirt. I spray on a little cologne and grab my gym bag before heading straight to my car.

  Today is
the start of me putting things right. His death has made things easier in some ways. No messy divorce for her to deal with but a whole host of demons instead. I’m not sure Sienna ever realized quite how screwed up Rob was. Too busy looking for the best in him—or at least hoping for it. As I climb in my Jeep and chuck the bag on the back seat, I admit to myself that it’s one of the things I love about her. She was one of the few who still saw me as a man and not a cripple or a damned hero after the accident. She still saw Nick.

  It takes me longer than I’d like to navigate the city traffic. The thought of her so far away from me makes my skin itch. I park up in front of her apartment building and climb out, palms slightly sticky.

  Damn, I think I’d rather be back out in Afghanistan, facing the Taliban, than doing this. What a coward. But I need to see Sienna again. It’s been three weeks and it feels like a lifetime. I could kick myself for what I did but I can’t regret it. I mean kissing her just after she’d buried her husband was not my smartest idea, but, shit, it was an amazing kiss.

  Now I’m just dreading her reaction to me. I texted her a few times to check up on her, but her responses usually came slowly and were brief. I stare up at the building. It’s not in the best part of Glenwood which makes me nervous, but I know it’s easy for her to get to work from here. The red brick building looks in good shape and the front doors are fairly new. At least the place is secure.

  I take the steps up to the door, wincing when my leg pulls. I forget what happened to it sometimes. I can’t quite get used to taking it easy and I refuse to look weak, so I climb the next few steps quickly. My heart hammers as I reach for the buzzer and press her number. She was the one who asked for help, I remind myself. It’s not like she’s going to turn you away.

  The thing is, she doesn’t seem to realize I want more. More kisses, more Sienna. I’ve wanted her for so long, it’s ridiculous. I think she wants me too. I’ve seen the way she looks at me. She always kept it under control normally. Neither of us would have done anything while she was married. But at the funeral… God, I hate myself for thinking it, but I’m sure she wants me. Hell, if that kiss was anything to go by, she does.

  But what kind of guy kisses a crying woman after her husband’s funeral? Talk about bad timing. I should have given her some time, comforted her and waited until she was settled before making some moves.

  So that’s my plan. Be there, remind her of how good we are together—as friends—and make her realize how good we could be together as more than friends.

  Her voice comes through the speaker, slightly shaky. “Y-yes?”

  “Sienna, it’s me.”

  “Come on up.”

  The door clunks and I push it open, step through and let it swing shut behind me. I study the stairs and opt for those. She’s only two flights up, apartment number 208, and I like to use my leg as much as I can. When I get to the top, I stare at her door. She’ll be waiting for me. She knows I’m here so why aren’t I knocking? I guess I’m not sure how she’s going to be with me. Or how I’ll react to her. Honestly, it might take all my restraint not to press her back against the wall, tear off her clothes and wrap her legs around my hips.

  Great, now I’m getting hard.

  I take a few breaths and knock, secretly thanking Jess’s husband for not being able to help move her stuff in. They packed it up the other day but now he’s on maneuvers so Sienna needs me. I’m willing to bet she wouldn’t have asked if she could have helped it. Too busy trying to do things on her own as if she’s got something to prove.

  It’s cheesy but when the door swings open, I swear she takes my breath away. Sienna’s clearly dressed for moving. Worn, pale denim jeans, a light pink T-shirt and her hair up in a ponytail with silky auburn strands escaping from it. Sienna is one of those women who probably gets cast as the girl next door type unless you look closely. Cute nose, fair skin, innocent. And then she gets dressed up. Damn. That’s when it hits you. Once you’ve seen her like that, you’ll always see her beauty no matter what she’s wearing. And those eyes… when her pale blue— almost grey—eyes twinkle, you see so much hidden sexiness. I don’t think any guy can meet her and not wonder if they could be the one to draw out her naughty side.

  She smiles tentatively. Her mouth is small, slightly delicate but very kissable. As I know from experience. I allow myself a smug smirk. She steps back, hands squeezed tightly together in front of her.

  “Hi.” I greet her with a slanted grin.

  She looks somewhat taken aback by me grinning at her and her gaze lands on my lips. “Hi, thanks for coming.”

  “No worries.” I stroll past and she shuts the door behind me, pausing briefly and staring at the wood. I grin to myself. Maybe she’s sucking up her courage too. “So this is it, huh?”

  She turns as I study the living room. “Yep, all mine.”

  My smile expands when I hear the pride in her voice. “It’s nice. Could do with a paint job and a new carpet but you’ve got a good space here.” I study her. There’s a vibrancy to her that I haven’t seen in a while, in spite of her obvious anxiety. “You look happy.”

  She smiles back. “I’m getting there. I’m feeling pretty good. Getting my independence back, you know?”

  “Good.” I pause and skim my gaze over her. I’m glad she’s finding herself again but I don’t want her too independent. Yeah, that sounds like some macho bullshit, I know, but I wish she needed me just a little. I sense she thinks of herself as all needy but the truth is she’s stronger than she realizes. All military wives are. She fidgets, color in her cheeks, and I stop staring. “You gonna show me the rest of the place then?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” She jumps into action.

  The place is laid out pretty simply. The door opens into the living room then a sliding door separates the kitchen and dining space from it. She leads me into the kitchen and shows off the large silver fridge.

  I whistle. “Nice.”

  “I had it delivered this morning. I knew you’d approve.”

  “What? You think of food and you think of me?”

  Sienna laughs. “No! But you do like to eat.”

  I shrug, secretly glad she had been thinking of me. “Hey, I’m a big man. I need to eat.”

  I don’t mean to but I end up stroking my gaze appreciatively over her and I’m convinced she’s doing the same. It’s true, I’m a big guy. I haven’t had any complaints. I never used to be quite so fit but after going through PT on the leg… I don’t know… exercise became an addiction. A shrink would tell me I’m trying to make up for what the shrapnel did to my leg. And maybe I am. I try not to think about it too hard. I’m not going to start feeling sorry for myself when three guys died in that firefight.

  When I bring my gaze back up to her face, her eyes have darkened. I recognize that look and I’m willing to bet my eyes reflect the same. It’s the one we shared before we kissed.

  Before I can make a move, she steps past and opens the door to the bedroom. “And this is my bedroom,” she declares.

  There’s nothing in it. It’s just white walls and a beige carpet but saying the word bed around us seems to be like setting fire to a fuse and letting it burn. The air feels electric and even though I’m behind her, I know she’s aware of me. I can see the tension in her shoulders, and she turns and stumbles into my chest. Hands gripping her forearms, I straighten her.

  “Well, I…” She swallows. “I guess we’d better get started.”

  I groan inwardly. Does she realize what she’s saying? ‘Cause the only thing I want to get started is us. It’s a good job there’s no bed in here as I’m pretty sure she’d have ended up on it. So much for trying to take things slow.

  “Yeah,” I finally agree, voice slightly husky, “yeah, we should.”

  I uncurl my fingers slowly and release her. I miss her already when she slides away from me. Sienna strides out of my vision while I take a moment to control my misbehaving body.

  “Come on then. Let’s get this done and
I’ll treat you to dinner,” she calls out.

  I lean around the sliding doors, hands in pockets and offer her a grin that I know she finds disarming. It’s my most charming one. “Sounds like a deal.”

  ***

  Five hours later, we collapse on her brown sofa. I’m exhausted. My leg is aching slightly, not that I’d let on. Whoever designed apartments was an idiot. Trying to get the couch in was insane but we had a laugh. I peek at Sienna and am secretly pleased that after our awkward moment earlier, we seem to have found our feet again.

  She sweeps a hand through her hair and leans back. The movement thrusts out her breasts and affords me a good look at the flesh between her jeans and top. My fingers itch to touch there. But I remind myself not to push her. I never should have kissed her after the funeral. I don’t regret kissing her, but I regret the timing. I resist the urge to laugh. Could I have any worse timing? I scared her away briefly and I don’t want to ruin things again.

  But I’m not willing to let it end there either. While I plan to offer her all the support I can, she has to know I want more from her. We’ve been fighting this attraction for so long, surely she knows? I get that it’s fucking wrong to be lusting after your supposed best friend’s wife but, damn, I’m only human and I never acted upon it before.

  Until Rob’s funeral.

  Yeah I’m an idiot.

  Somehow I need to get her to see me as more than a good friend. I’m just not sure how to broach it.

  “You want to get dinner?” she asks me.

  “Urgh.” I’m not sure I can even move.

  “Hey, I thought you were meant to be the big strong man? Don’t tell me I’ve worn you out so much you can’t even be bothered to eat.”

  I roll my head around and eye her with a raised brow. “I’m plenty strong, short stuff, and don’t forget who did most of the heavy lifting. I just didn’t realize I’d have to move like a contortionist to squeeze half your furniture in here.”