Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

by Blue Saffire

  “That’s a challenge,” he said.

  “No. That’s a fact.”

  “Is it, now?”

  Ian dropped his mouth to my other breast and circled my jealous nipple with the tip of his tongue, then flicked it back and forth. Every muscle in my body flexed, squeezing the air from my chest in a moan. His fingers plucked harder. He opened his mouth and sucked. His lips pulled up around my areola, and then he caught the taut peak in his teeth and slowly bit down until I gasped. Then, he let me go.

  His tongue stroked away the brief pain/pleasure, leaving only the latter.

  I made the mistake of opening my eyes and looking into the drowning pools of his eyes.

  “All day.” And he grinned.

  Then, he switched. He fingers found my right nipple, still wet from his mouth, and rolled and pinched. He suckled my left breast like he needed my shuttering, desperate moans to live.

  A sweet, swelling pressure bloomed in my core, pounding with each beat of my heart, which was now more in sync with Ian’s mouth and fingers than its own rhythm.

  He hadn’t even touched me below the waist, and the expanding pulse of pleasure inside me reached its breaking point. He nipped once more at the sensitized skin pebbled in his mouth, and I shattered.

  An hour later, only the periodic snap of the freshly built fire in Ian’s bedroom broke the silence around us. I pressed back against Ian’s outstretched body and settled into the timeless space between napping and reveling in the feel of his breath in my hair. The ease I felt would have scared me had I been fully awake and not so damned satisfied.

  This couldn’t possibly be my last night with this man. My thoughts couldn’t coalesce around what would come next, but I knew “next” was a certainty.

  I fell into a strange, dreamless sleep until a jangling music from somewhere in the room made me open my eyes. The light through the windows had faded to silvery blue. I rolled over. Ian was holding his phone as it sang and vibrated. He gaped at it, hit reject, and fell back against the pillows.

  Irina.

  The name was just a flash before Ian had tapped the red button. I pulled the down comforter over my shoulders to my chin and pretended to be fixated by its softness.

  “Who’s that?”

  “My ex.”

  My jaw dropped open. I hadn’t expected such immediate honesty. “Oh.”

  “I don’t know why she’s calling.” He sighed. “I mean I do, but I’ve told her repeatedly not to.”

  I knew why she was calling. The past two hours taught me that.

  The way he looked expectantly at the now-inert phone in his hand, I knew his honesty regarding the call had its limits. Irrational panic kept my mouth zipped.

  He shook his head and turned to me, eyes inscrutable. “Come here.”

  A wave of his hand, and I was in his arms again. He wrapped himself around me as if I were keeping him afloat in some unknown sea.

  I pressed my face into the feathers of hair on his bare chest, trying to recapture the moment before his phone had chimed, but it was gone. His pecs rose with a deep, deliberate breath, and then fell in a rush, but it did nothing to unwind the tautness of his muscles as he held me to him.

  A moment later, the phone vibrated again.

  “You should see what she wants.” I shoved myself up and turned to the other side of the bed away from the door.

  “No. It—I can wait.” His usual cocky sureness was gone.

  “Check your messages.” My legs felt heavy as I swung them to the floor, stood, and began gathering my clothes.

  “Savannah. Wait. You—I need to…Just give me a second.” I flicked my eyes back to see him pulling his hands down his face.

  I crushed my sweater, jeans, and underwear into a ball clutched to my naked chest and walked around the bed and out of the room, avoiding his eyes. My nipples still tingled, betraying my intent to distance myself. Not that it mattered.

  Ian was already miles away.

  9

  Ian

  Naked and shivering in the dim light, Savannah headed out the door. Her bare ass swung side to side like the shake of a head.

  “Savannah,” I called after her, but even I knew I wanted her to leave.

  She hitched her clothes to the side and slammed my bedroom door behind her.

  Shit.

  I couldn’t think about that right now.

  I pulled my covers up to my waist. Whatever the news, I didn’t want to be staring at my offending dick while I heard it.

  When I finally tapped on the voicemail, I said a silent prayer. Please.

  That’s it. I didn’t even know what I wanted.

  Irina’s accent-tinged English pricked at his ear. “I know I’m supposed to talk to you through the lawyer, but I can’t tell you this through that voman.”

  Taylor’s feelings toward Irina were strongly reciprocated.

  “You’re off the hook, as they say. You should be happy. You won’t have to deal with me, right? That’s what you wanted. My baby is my baby. So that’s that.”

  Silence.

  I checked to see if I’d reached the end of the message, then put the phone back to my ear. Just whimpering.

  “I’m s-sorry, Ian. Ivan…He’s gone. It’s just me. Ian—”

  I hung up the phone and deleted the rest of her last manipulation of me. It didn’t concern me anymore, which was for the best. It was. Everyone kept telling me that, and they weren’t wrong.

  Still, Irina’s words had blown a hole in me like a midflight explosion. I thought I was going somewhere, and then everything I held onto was sucked away.

  I thumbed through my phone to my saved pictures and pulled up the black and white image. It looked like radar. Honestly, I didn’t even know what I was looking at. But I’d been told it was my future.

  I needed to call Taylor. And my parents.

  Instead, I jumped up and attacked the stairs. Reaching the landing, I knocked on Savannah’s door. No answer.

  Wait.

  Go.

  The two thoughts collided, but one couldn’t withstand the powerful urge that had shot me upstairs to start with.

  She wasn’t in the bedroom, and through the cracked bathroom door, I heard the rush of water in the shower.

  Her clothes were all over the bed, along with her phone, and a book, peeking out from under the turned over comforter. I guess she’s not much on making her bed.

  Bright gold letters on a scarlet book cover beamed at me. “Get the Man You Want.”

  I pulled out the thick paperback. It read, more specifically, Siren: Unleash Your Feminine Power & Get The Man You Want.

  The rush of fury rose fast. I could hardly see.

  Is this all they did? Sit around dreaming up ways to lure men and take what they want? Swiveling their asses and shoving their tits in our faces to distract us from the fact they were stealing our souls?

  Jesus.

  I don’t know what I expected. I barely knew her.

  “Oh. Hey!” Savannah squeaked from the doorway. “I—Did you deal with your…whatever.” She waved a hand in my direction.

  “Yeah. I’ll let you get dressed.” The words seeped out between clenched teeth.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, wait. What…Why are you…”

  The feminine fumbling was almost endearing. A halo of dark, wet haphazard curls flew around her head, framing her wide-eyed, nearly angelic face. She clutched at her towel with both hands.

  My groin tightened.

  “You’re holding that thing like I haven’t already seen you naked, plenty naked.”

  Her head jerked back liked I’d hit her, the towel now up to her collarbone. “Why are you pissed off at me? I didn’t fuck you and then take phone call from my ex.”

  “I didn’t take the call. I listened to a voicemail. And only because you ran off.” I held up the book. “Did you need to run up here and get more intel on how to trap yourself a man?”

  Her olive skin deepened to bronze from her cheeks to
her legs. “That’s just a stupid book I’m reading. I’m single and over thirty. We read shit like that.”

  “Well, it’s worked. You’ve got the siren thing down. Showing up here and weaseling yourself into some alone time with—what did you say I was called—one of the hottest bachelor’s in America.”

  “Yeah,” she barked. “I’m starting to realize why you’re still single. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. It’s just a dumb book my stepmother bought me.”

  “Of course, she did. She got your sister trained, and I guess you’re a little harder to work with so she got you man-trapping training manual.”

  “Oh, my God. It’s as much about jerking women around as it is about men. ‘Be assertive.’ ‘Wait for him.’ ‘Be sexy.’ ‘Don’t be whore.’ It’s stupidity.”

  “But you’re reading it,” I roared.

  “I’m not taking it seriously.” The tone of her retort curled up at the end, beckoning and insistent. But even as she said it, I knew that wasn’t true.

  She’d been batting her eyes at me and shoving those perfect breasts in my face—wrapped in touchable sweaters and T-shirts and towels all wet and perky—since she got here. She was working me over.

  I snorted. “Is this little prude act with the towel part of the deal? Pull it up to your eyeballs and then flash some pussy at me?”

  “Do you think I have some direct line to God to control the weather? I was stuck. The roads were closed. I—this was obviously a mistake. I thought…” She lost her words again and flailed one arm accusingly at me while still keeping an iron grip on the terry cloth between her and nakedness.

  “You thought you’d catch yourself a billionaire. That’s what you all think. That I’m some fucking fish snapping at your pussy bait.” I flapped my hands at her, opening and shutting my fingers and thumbs like a chattering mouth.

  With the second mention of “pussy” in under thirty seconds, a rage flashed in Savannah’s eyes, but she went still.

  “You know, what? I don’t owe you an explanation. Whatever you have going on with your girlfriend that’s got you all twisted up is your problem. We had a few hours of fun, and it’s over. You can leave now. I’ll get myself to the airport in the morning.” Her chin bobbled forward, parrying at me.

  The sudden dismissal burned. “But it doesn’t need to be over. Look here.” I flipped mindlessly through the paperback. “I think in Chapter Eight it talks about how to use your ‘feminine power,’” I paused to make air quotes, “to trick a man back into your bed and your life. Are you sure you don’t want to try that first? I’m worth a hell of a lot of money. And you’re one hell of lay.”

  My final word ricocheted in the room before the crackling energy between us cleared and settled into silence. Savannah’s spine bolted straight, and she glared, then roared.

  “Fuck. You.”

  “You did that already.”

  “Get. Out.” She stormed, forgetting the towel now. It fell to the floor. She came at me—both arms flailing, her breasts bouncing, water still sluicing down the curves of her body.

  I’d never been harder or hated myself more. So I fled with her in pursuit, more harpy than siren. The wind of her rage blew me into the hall and down the stairs, or maybe it was the gust of air as the bedroom shut with a slam.

  10

  The next morning, I slowly wound my way down the mountain road following the unknowingly famous Sheila of Sheila’s Tow and Plow away from Ian’s house.

  I called her last night, and she let me know that Ian had already booked her to clear his driveway and private road. Thankfully, he and I were finally on the same page. I was getting the hell out of his house.

  I reached the Glacier Park International airport in a couple of hours, well before my afternoon flight. Despite being dubbed “international,” it didn’t boast as many ways to pass the time as Ian’s place, but having distance between me and the mansion made it easier to breathe.

  Yesterday had taken a turn for the terrible so quickly, I still couldn’t make sense of it. But what bothered me more is that I cared. I didn’t know him well enough to be surprised by his behavior. Yes, he’d been nice enough to let me stay there—even if it was begrudgingly at first. He seemed passionate about his work and his family—responsible, level-headed.

  Okay, so that wasn’t the passion that had me twisted up inside.

  This is why I tried not to do things like that. Sleeping with some guy I barely know.

  I slammed my coffee cup to the table in the airport café, and hot liquid splashed on my thumb. I mumbled a curse and earned a nasty look from the couple at the next table and a baby grin from their young son.

  “Sorry.” I tried smiling, but they huffed and packed up their breakfast, leaving me with my sour thoughts.

  Ian had seemed like the kind of man you could count on not to flip out over some silly book with the gravitas of an article in Cosmo magazine. He’d all but accused me of being a gold-digging whore—like I’d planned to get stuck with him in the mountains. Like I’d held a gun to his head to make him sleep with me. Even before my impromptu wet T-shirt contest, that man has stared at my tits like a hungry baby.

  That was the problem with men. No matter how old they get, ultimately, they are giant, fucking babies.

  I gulped my still-too-hot coffee, letting the burn shock me out of the lingering lust springing up as I remembered the past thirty-six hours.

  It was fun while it lasted, but time to move on. I still had a few hours before my flight to Seattle, and sitting around moping over Ian was not how I was going to spend my time. I dug through my bag for something besides the troublesome book, and my cell phone rang, practically jumping into my hand.

  It was Michelle.

  “Savannah! For some reason, I just got your messages about being stuck in Montana. Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m at the airport though. Flying out today.”

  “Oh, thank God. Hold on.” Michelle’s words trailed off, and I heard Steve in the background. “Was Ian actually at the house?”

  Tingles of heat spread from my forehead to my collarbone. “Yes. He was there when I drove back. I figured I’d just see the property manager, but he’d already come back to the house.”

  “You met him?”

  “I did. Things got pretty awkward, actually.”

  “How’s that?” Michelle sounded curious and yet wary at the same time.

  “He got a phone call from his ex-fiancée, yesterday. He’d told me about her and—”

  “He talked to you about Irina?” My sister’s voice rang with shock.

  “Some. It was obviously a sore subject.”

  “You guys must have gotten pretty personal.”

  “We talked.” I loosened my scarf to ease the heat bubbling around my face.

  “I only found out what she did a couple of days ago. Steve finally told me the whole story about why Ian skipped the wedding, poor guy. And you were there when she called about the baby. Jesus.”

  “Baby?” I said the word so softly, Michelle must not have heard me.

  “It’s got to be a relief to find out the baby wasn’t his, but still, disappointing. He thought he was going to have a family.”

  “Wait? What?” I choked. The heaviness of her words weighted my bones against the hard, plastic chair. I almost couldn’t move. “Ian’s ex is having another man’s baby?”

  “Shit. I thought he’d told you,” Michelle shouted, then shifted to a whisper. “Shit. I don’t think Ian wants people to know about all this. Steve is going to kill me.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. It’s just—” Inexplicable tears prickled at the back of my eyeballs. I bit down on my lip, willing them not to spill.

  “Are you crying?”

  I swallowed. “That was the call. He found out the baby wasn’t his. And Irina was using him.”

  “Yes. Yesterday. How long were you at his house?”

  “Just a couple of days when the storm rol
led in and I couldn’t get to Kalispell.”

  “What did he tell you about Irina?”

  I pressed my fingertips to my eyes sockets. “That he had an ex-fiancée who didn’t think that he spent enough time with her and that she felt neglected. He didn’t say anything about the rest, but then yesterday, he got that call and I knew who it was. I got mad, and then we got in this fight. He found that book your mom gave me about sirens and getting a man. He accused me of trying to trap him or lure him or whatever. It got ugly. That’s why I left so early this morning. My flight’s not until this afternoon.”

  “What went on up there?”

  “I just told you.” I pulled the phone away from my ear. Could you hide from someone on a phone call?

  “No. I don’t think you did.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I barely know him. It was just…” I lowered my voice. “Sex.”

  “If it were just sex, you wouldn’t be upset. You would be glad that you could walk away and not look back.”

  I scanned the café’s lounge and cursed, in my mind this time, when an escape failed to present itself. “I’m not upset. I’m just surprised is all.”

  “Why are you wasting time lying? Just admit that you like him and call him and—apologize isn’t the right word—but, you know, talk to him.” Michelle’s rapid-fire whisper came at me like bullets from a silenced gun.

  “About what? I’m not even supposed to know the whole story,” I snapped.

  “Tell him that you feel bad about how you left things.”

  “I don’t have his number.”

  “I do. I’ll give it you. Any other excuses?”

  I folded an arm across my stomach and hunched over. “This is too much. He’s got enough to deal with. I don’t even know if I want to get involved in all this.”

  “All what? The baby isn’t his. She’s just another ex-girlfriend.”

  “And I’m just a fling to distract him.”

  “If he felt that way, he wouldn’t have gotten so upset about my mom’s dumb-ass book.”