Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  His imagination tried to kick in, taunting him with every definition imaginable of what that meant. He told it to go to hell and shoved the images back down. There was something off in the way she walked, an awkward hesitation combined with the occasional glance over her shoulder, as he followed her.

  She dropped into her computer chair. The mouse cursor on the screen wavered, betraying the slight shake to her hand. “So, um…”

  He waited for her to finish her thought, attention on her profile. The uncertain way she caught her lip between her teeth, the flicker of her eyes between the screen and not quite at him, was alluring and disquieting at the same time. “What’s up?” he finally prompted.

  She took a deep breath and spun in her chair, facing her computer. “I decided you were right.”

  Fantastic. “About what?”

  “I need to stop hesitating and just get my artwork out there. It’s true that no one may want it, but I’ll never know unless I try, right?”

  “Right.” He wanted to grin that she was taking this step, and felt selfish for being disappointed instead. Not by the news—he screamed for joy inside about that—but he’d been hoping to hear something else. Something more about the two of them.

  She let out a small laugh, the most incredible sound he’d heard in days. “You probably already know this—I hope you already know this—but I have to send samples of my work along with my query, and I need to pick my best pages. Since you spoofed my email, I don’t know which images you picked.” She turned her full attention on him for the first time since he’d arrived. “I have my favorites, but I can’t decide. I’m hoping some of them are your favorites too, so I can narrow my choices down. Help me pick some out?”

  “Of course.” A tinge of relief floated through him. It wasn’t a confession of love, but it was the friendship he had been terrified they’d lost. He could work with that. He’d take that over nothing in a heartbeat.

  She nodded her head toward the monitor. “You can get closer if you want. You know, so you can see. I promise it’s okay.”

  He closed the distance between them. As she flipped through the scans, he couldn’t hide his awe at her talent. It made it hard to choose, but they slowly narrowed down the selection. Excitement danced on her face the more they got into it.

  He settled his hand on the back of her chair, leaning in to get a closer look at the details. He saw now why it had been a mistake to send off her unfinished work, aside from the severe breach-of-trust issue. What he’d been impressed with before was nothing, compared to the studio quality he looked at now.

  She leaned back, resting against him as they dove into the final selection process. She was still torn deciding between two panels. He traced light lines along her shoulder blade, relieved when she didn’t pull away.

  “How’s Archer?” The question slipped out before he could stop it, and he cringed.

  Her back went stiff, and she sat straight up. “Fine, I suppose.”

  “Happy to have you back?” God damn it, he was being a jerk.

  She dropped her head and sighed.

  He’d ruined the moment. He might as well get it over with. Find out what was really going on, wish her luck—because that’s what friends did—and all that bullshit. “You two make a cute couple.”

  She winced, and a small squeak tore from her throat. Something that was half-whimper, half-sigh. “What happened to he’s a clingy jackass?”

  Zane shrugged. “Whatever works for him.”

  She tilted her head back for a moment, eyes closed. Then she stood and faced him, gaze locked on his. “You really think we make a cute couple?”

  Yes. He needed to say yes. He had to do this. He had to be supportive. “No. I still think he’s a clingy jackass and you deserve so much better. You already said you didn’t love him.”

  Her pained expression melted away. “How do you really feel?”

  “Clever. I already bore my heart, and you didn’t take it quite the way I hoped.”

  Her threatening smile wavered. “Nothing happened with Archer,” she said softly. “I mean, not nothing, but I didn’t sleep with him. Or anything else that involved him touching me in any way.”

  Zane swallowed, not daring to hope. His heartbeat echoed in his ears. “You were still wearing your bridesmaid dress this morning.”

  “Yeah, I was.”

  “So you never made it home.” This was killing him. He clenched his jaw. “It didn’t look like he did either.”

  A soft smile danced under the sadness on her face. “I don’t know where he was. After we left the wedding, we went for coffee. We talked. A lot. I apologized for leading him on then shutting him out. He apologized for being a clingy, presumptuous jackass.”

  Zane couldn’t hide his disbelief, but he refused to give into the hint of amusement. “His words?”

  Her smile grew. “My words, his meaning.”

  “That took all night?”

  “I walked away when he started droning on about how I made a mistake leaving him.”

  “You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

  “I didn’t.” She stepped closer. “You have a pretty strong opinion about what I do and don’t deserve. Have you ever stopped to think nothing would make me happier than you?”

  He stopped breathing for a moment, not sure he’d heard her right.

  She kept going. “I said goodbye to him after an hour or so, thanked him for everything, and drove around until I was too tired to do so safely. I was trying to convince myself to stay away from you, since you already pushed me out twice. Telling myself you didn’t love me the way I do you. You almost broke me in the coffee shop, but I managed to keep it all in until I got home.”

  His heart leaped in his throat at the words. Jesus, she’d taken her time getting there, but he still loved the way it sounded. “What did you figure out?”

  “I didn’t.” She reached for him then dropped her arm again. “My brain spun in on itself over and over again, until I thought I might pass out on my feet from exhaustion, and when you said it this morning—actually said, I love you—I thought I was hallucinating. Tell me you meant it?”

  Relief surged through him. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulled her close, and kissed her hard, not breaking away until he couldn’t breathe. He gasped as they broke apart. He held her head in place, gaze locked on hers. “I love you more than anything. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Just thinking about waking up someplace that you’ll never be coming back to hurts more than I want to dwell on.”

  It felt incredible to have the words out. Especially when she shifted her weight, pressing into him. “Me too.”

  She kissed him again, hungry and desperate, digging her nails into his back. When she pulled away, he realized what he’d missed that morning. Her face looked almost exactly the same, except relief and joy danced in her eyes now instead of red-rimmed grief.

  He spun and dropped into her chair, grabbed her hands in his, and tugged her to stand between his legs. “I should have said something sooner. I should have told you so many things sooner.”

  She bent and silenced him with a quick kiss before stepping away. “It doesn’t matter. It’s out now. Whatever happened while you were gone doesn’t change how I feel about you. I’m not sure my acceptance matters, but I know why you made the decisions you did, and if you had any idea at all what they would lead to, you wouldn’t have done it.”

  She had more faith in him than he did, but that went both ways when it came to them. He didn’t forgive himself, but he had a feeling he’d get there. “It means a lot. Thank you.”

  “Beyond that, all I care about is that we stop hiding things from each other. Well, I care about other things, too. I mean, I’m pretty hardcore infatuated with you, and this whole artwork thing, and that I didn’t get laid after my sister’s wedding. Isn’t that like a bridesmaid’s right or something?”

  He couldn’t hold back his laughter. “At least you have your priorities, a
nd yes, if we’re to believe popular media—and really why wouldn’t we?—you’re definitely owed that.”

  She bit her bottom lip, hands shoved in her front pockets and tugging down the waistband of her jeans. “So are you volunteering?”

  He made a show of looking around him. “Are you offering it to anyone else?”

  “Nope. Just making sure.”

  He hesitated. Should he do what he wanted? It hadn’t been a problem in the past, but so many significant things had changed.

  She fiddled with the bottom of her T-shirt. “Your move.”

  His pulse whirred into overdrive, and he smirked. The things that mattered were still the same. He needed to remember that. “You’re sure?”

  She ducked her head, watching him through thick lashes, pink covering her cheeks. “I trust you.”

  The words slammed home harder than they ever had before, and he realized how much she meant when she said that. Jesus. He’d been an idiot. At least she’d given him another chance. The revelation kicked his arousal up a gear.

  He leaned back in the chair, watching her. The way she was flushed, waiting, and wanting as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, always watching him.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  Her smile grew. She crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, and pulled it over her head, pausing with her arms raised, elongating the lines and curves of her slender frame and drawing attention to her bare breasts.

  She tossed the top aside and returned her thumbs to her jeans pockets. Her chest heaved with every nervous breath, exposed nipples hardening, and her flat stomach vanished teasingly into low-rise denim. He could almost taste the memories of running his lips over her skin. “Jeans next.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her fingers were nimble undoing the button, and then she slowly slid down the zipper. She pushed the jeans past her hips, revealing high-cut panties, and let them fall the rest of the way to the floor. Bending at the waist, she stepped out of one leg at a time before tossing the clothing aside.

  For as many times as he’d been called sir in the past few years, he’d thought it was just a word. Hearing her say it fuzzed his thoughts and heightened his senses. She grabbed her left arm with her right hand and licked her lips. Her gaze flickered toward the closet for the briefest moment before returning to him.

  His dick pulsed, straining against his jeans. He crossed the room in a few long strides, only having to study the built-in shelves for a moment before finding what he was looking for.

  He grabbed two silk scarves and padded up behind her. He slid his hands down her arms and pulled her back against him. “I always wondered why you collected these if you never actually wore them.”

  She leaned into him with a soft sigh. “No one ever figures it out. Another reason to love you.”

  Love. He did like the way she said that. He bound her wrists loosely behind her with one scarf and glided his lips along the back of her neck. “Did you ever tell anyone else you might be interested?”

  A whimper slipped from her throat. “Maybe I was never interested with anyone else.”

  He pressed against her back, memorizing every inch of her yielding frame against him. He brought the second scarf up, and she let out a tiny gasp when he covered her eyes and tied it behind her head.

  He dropped his hands to her hips, inching forward to run his palms up her stomach and cup her breasts.

  She leaned back her head, her moan growing louder when he pinched her nipples. He wanted to take her now. His cock strained, begging to drive deep inside her, but even more, he wanted to stretch this moment out. Make sure they both enjoyed it.

  He continued to tweak and pull the sensitive nubs. Her hips swayed in rhythm with the motion. She raised her bound hands out of the way enough to grind her ass against him. Her breath came in shorter gasps, the longer he abraded them.

  She stood straight when he pulled away. A mewl escaped when he rested his hands on her hips again.

  He hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her panties, brushing the bare skin underneath, and tugged. He slid the underwear down her legs, the scent of her arousal taunting him, and gently lifted each foot so he could toss the clothing aside.

  He nudged her toward the chair, guiding her so she didn’t trip or run into anything, and helped her sit, arms still bound behind her back.

  She licked her lips, her breathing shallow.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Riley kept her eyes closed. There was no point in looking, with the scarf in her way. Every other sense was heightened. The fabric of the low-backed chair was warm and rough against her bare skin. She strained her ears for any sound, but her hammering pulse made it difficult to tell what was important.

  She was slick with want, growing wetter every second as the anticipation built.

  Her hair was swept across her back and pushed over her shoulder, sending a pleasant chill through her. She inhaled sharply at the brush of Zane’s lips on her neck.

  He nipped her earlobe, sucking lightly before releasing it again. “You’re incredible.”

  The compliment, combined with the husky sound of his voice, sent goose bumps over her. She sighed and leaned into the sensation. “You’re pretty amazing too.”

  His chuckle vibrated against her skin, and then he pulled away again. Cool air caressed her body and leaving her wondering and wanting. What next?

  As the seconds ticked away, her pulse raced faster, and her ears strained harder. She whimpered in anticipation when rough fabric scraped between her legs, forcing them apart. Denim, maybe? His knee? Not that it mattered. Air rushed to greet her damp mound.

  When his lips brushed the inside of her leg near her knee, a pulse of need started in her gut and traveled down. He kissed a slow, light trail along her inner thigh, moving up one leg and down the other, never getting close to her aching sex.

  She scooted forward on the chair, blindly trying to get closer, and the contact stopped.

  “Impatient, much?” His teasing growl echoed through the room.

  “A little.” She tried to keep her tone light.

  “Only a little.”

  “Okay. A lot.” She swallowed, desire flooding her. “I’ll beg if it will help.”

  A heavy pause hung in the air before he finally said, “Not today.”

  She gasped, butt coming off the chair, when his finger traced her slit. Seconds later, his tongue followed the same path, tearing a moan from her. He licked along the slick skin, drawing closer to her clit with each pass but never touching it.

  When he finally flicked over the swollen nub, she cried out, nearly coming from the single touch. He wrapped his mouth around it, licking and occasionally nibbling in time to the thrust of her hips.

  A climax built inside. Every inch of her was alive, feeling everything. There was no warning before he shoved his fingers inside her, opening her wide and filling her up. The new sensation pushed her over the edge, and she clenched around him as she came.

  His attentions slowed with her, shifting from hungry sucking to tiny kisses before stopping. He pulled away, leaving her isolated again.

  Her head swam, euphoria mingling with the electric anticipation of not being able to see where he was or what he was doing.

  “Stand up.” His voice was close, but she couldn’t tell where it came from.

  She obeyed, warmth spreading between her legs again.

  His heat brushed her back but he didn’t making contact.

  He turned and guided her, stopping when her shins nudged the edge of the bed.

  “Lie as close to the middle as you can. On your side.” His words caressed her ear, his voice low.

  He helped guide her as she climbed clumsily onto the bed, the action hindered by her bound hands and blindfolded eyes.

  Then there was nothing again. No voice, touch, or sounds.

  She lay on her side, breathing shallowly. Was that a rustle of clothes or just her ear against the comforter?

  “I want”—
his voice near her ear startled her—“to feel all of you. No protection. Are you okay with that?”

  She couldn’t hide her smile at the request disguised as simple, but meaning so much more. She forced her voice to stay steady. “Yes.”

  He kissed her cheek, the light touch lingering for a moment before he was gone again.

  Time ticked away, feeling exaggerated in the artificial darkness. The mattress shifted with a new weight, and her heart leapt into her throat, expectation screaming through every inch of her.

  Zane’s hands slid up her leg, hooked under her knee, and brought her foot to rest on the bed, so one leg was propped, the other still reclined like the rest of her. Skin brushed her extended leg. She assumed he was straddling her.

  He slid his fingers along her slit, nudging the edge of her opening but not going farther. She gasped in pleasure when the head of his cock followed the same path, but didn’t slide inside, and then he pushed in from behind, driving deep into her before pulling almost all the way out again.

  He thrust back inside her, hips slapping her butt as his rhythm increased. One hand gripped her knee, the other holding her hip as he plunged into her repeatedly. Her climax built again, rushing in fast, and she gasped as she came, clenching around his shaft and riding the long orgasm as he pounded hard and fast.

  His breathing shifted to sharp grunts, and she knew he was close too. His rhythm became more frantic, rising to a heated pace before slowing and stopping.

  She lay there, listening to their mingled breathing, focused on him still buried in her. He kissed the top of her knee, lips lingering on her skin, before unwinding himself from her legs.

  With a few gentle tugs, the scarf fell away from her wrists. She arched her back, loosening up her shoulders.

  “You’re okay, right?” His voice was close, heavy with concern and still breathless.

  She smiled big. “I’m absolutely fantastic.”

  He chuckled, and the mattress shifted again. Seconds later, the blindfold fell away. She blinked at the sudden light, glad it wasn’t brighter.