Avoiding Temptation: Forbidden Series #6

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “Don’t apologise. I like knowing what you’re thinking.”

  His words immediately get my back up. I’ve been controlled my entire life by men who ‘think’ they know what I want and what I think.

  I’m so done with that.

  “You don’t know me,” I spit, much to his surprise if his raised eyebrows are anything to go by.

  His hand lifts to rub the back of his neck, and I instantly feel awful for assuming he meant more than he did with his comment.

  “Fuck, I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m sorry, it was my fault. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

  His brows draw together. I know he’s desperate to discover more about my past, but I’m barely able to think about it right now without falling into a panic attack, let alone talk about it.

  “Can I…?” he trails off and nods over my shoulder into my flat. My eyes follow, and I hesitate. “I promise I’m not going to jump you or anything. I just have a proposition that might interest you.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, already interested in his cryptic statement, and stand aside to allow him over the threshold.

  “Coffee?” I ask, walking past where he’s dropped to the sofa and over to the kitchen.

  “Sure.”

  I put the kettle on and get the mugs out, anything that will attempt to distract me from the pull that’s always there when he’s close.

  Chancing a glance over my shoulder, I find him sitting back, relaxing on my sofa with his eyes locked on me. My need to find a seat on his lap is strong, but I fight to keep even a scrap of my self-control and continue with what I’m doing…but that’s not before he graces me with a heart-stopping smile. That alongside the cheeky glint in his eyes makes me wonder what kind of proposition he’s turned up here with.

  “So?” I ask, placing his coffee down on the table and sitting as far away from him as possible on my small two-seater sofa.

  “So…” He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. His eyes never leave mine. “I get that you don’t want to talk about it. Honestly, I do. But I can see you’re scared and from the look of your eyes right now, I can tell that whatever it is is keeping you up at night. I want to help.”

  “How?” I ask, confused as to how he can help when he has no idea what haunts both my waking and sleeping hours.

  “Spend the weekend with me?” My eyes widen in shock. “Let me take you away from here and everything you’re worrying about.”

  “Joe, we can’t—” All the reasons why he shouldn’t even be here right now circle through my head, let alone the million and one reasons why we shouldn’t spend an entire weekend together. The knowledge that I feel too connected to him already after the small amount of time we’ve spent together up until now is only a part of the problem.

  “Forget it all. Whatever’s in your head right now, forget it. I’m not a student. You’re not a teacher. We’re just two people enjoying their time off and each other. Let’s leave all the stress behind. Just for a few days.”

  I can't deny that what he’s proposing sounds incredible. I’m desperate to scream yes, pack a bag and drag him from the building, but I’ve got to think of the bigger picture here.

  I sit forward on the sofa, my body willing me to get up and get ready to go, but my mind holds me back.

  “What did you say to me before our night out? That you wanted to live, you wanted to experience new things. This is just like that night but longer. Let’s tick a few more experiences off your list.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’ve booked us a hotel in a place I think you’ll love.”

  “You’ve booked it? A little presumptuous, wasn’t it?”

  “You’re worth the risk.”

  My chin drops, my heart damn near stopping dead in my chest at his words. My eyes hold his as I look for any hint that he’s joking, but I find nothing.

  It’s those four little words and the meaning behind them that has me jumping up and pulling clothes from the small wardrobe at the other side of the room and quickly stuffing everything into a holdall.

  “Is that a yes?” Joe asks with a laugh as his eyes follow my every move.

  “Just because you asked so politely.”

  “Not sure I’ve ever been described as polite before. Next you’ll be telling me that I’m chivalrous and thoughtful.” His words are quiet, like I’m not really meant to hear them. But I do.

  I pause and look up. “You are.”

  “That’s because I’ve only shown you that side of me.”

  “I don’t believe that. I’ve seen you, Joe.” He stands and my eyes drop from his to take in his body.

  “So you have.” He stalks over, his eyes darkening. I see what he’s doing: diverting the conversation to sex, something he’s much more comfortable discussing.

  I want to argue that I see more than he realises I do, but much like me not wanting to talk about my past, I can tell this is something he’s not keen to discuss.

  I hold his eyes when they eventually find mine once again, trying to tell him everything I want. His eyes soften, and I wonder if he understands.

  “What do I need to pack? Anything special?”

  “Whatever you want. You’ll look gorgeous, no doubt.” Flames lick at my stomach, the darkness in his eyes telling me that he’s being totally sincere. Much like him, I wonder what he sees when he looks at me, because the only thing I see when I look in the mirror these days is the woman I’ve always wanted to be who’s too afraid to really go after the life she craves.

  I’m avoiding dealing with so much of my past that I’ve shoved it into the dark corners of my mind when the one thing that I really should be avoiding is standing right in front of me, promising me an escape.

  I somehow manage to break our connection to pack my toiletries and zip up my bag.

  “Did you want to finish your soup?” Joe asks, a cheeky smile curling at one side of his mouth.

  “I think I’m good.”

  “Right answer. Come on.”

  Taking my bag, he throws it over one shoulder before sliding his other hand into mine. I tense, knowing that I should pull away, but touching him is just a little too comfortable. After days of looking over my shoulder, waiting for the inevitable, the feeling of safety that washes through me is too much to deny.

  I squeeze his hand a little tighter, and together we lock up the flat and head down to his van.

  “Doesn’t your boss mind you taking the van off on a mystery weekend with a stranger?”

  “First, you’re not a stranger. I know you better than I know a lot of people in my life.” I turn to look at him as he pushes the key into the ignition and starts the engine. There are so many words on the tip of my tongue, but I know he wants to talk about it as much as I do. So instead of asking anything, I give him a small smile when his eyes meet mine. The more time I spend with him, the more I see the shadows in his eyes he tries to cover with his confidence, but as time goes on, the darker they’re getting.

  It helps explain the pull I feel towards him.

  We’re the same, both trying to survive with plenty of skeletons hiding in our closets.

  “So where are we going?”

  “To the home of literature.”

  My brows draw together as I think about his words, but nowhere comes to mind.

  “I don’t—”

  “I’m disappointed in you, Miss Smith,” he says with a chuckle as he heads out of the city.

  “I thought we were forgetting about the whole teacher/student thing?”

  “We are, although where we’re going should be a good field trip for me.”

  A thought hits me, and excitement bubbles in my belly. “Oh…we’re going to Stratford-upon-Avon.” I don’t even ask it as a question, because the second it occurred to me, I knew I was right.

  “We are. I thought we’d get up close and personal to the man himself. Although, I must admit that I’m more excited about the up close and personal op
portunities with someone else.” He turns to me, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his eyes drop to my breasts. “Did I mention how much I like that dress?”

  The dress in question is a simple black jersey wrap, cut a little lower than I’d usually risk for work, but the fabric feels incredible and I needed something a little extra to get me through today.

  “Thank you,” I say, my cheeks heating. I want to look away, but when his eyes lift and capture mine, I’m powerless to move.

  “Do you know what’s even better about it?”

  I shake my head, unable to form any words.

  “How incredible it’ll be when I get to unwrap you from it later.”

  Heat races between my thighs and I shift uncomfortably, a move he doesn’t miss.

  “Motherfucker,” Joe breathes, his chest heaving. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

  I don’t get to reply, because the car behind us at the traffic lights beeps his horn. We both look forward to see what was the green light turned back to red.

  “Whoops,” Joe says innocently. “He’d understand if he had you sitting beside him, distracting him.”

  I really doubt that.

  “You act like you never get compliments, which I find hard to believe.” Joe speeds up as we join the motorway, which thankfully means he’s unable to look my way.

  “Believe it. I think I’ve had more from you in the past few weeks than I have in my entire life.”

  His fingers wrap tighter around the wheel until his knuckles turn white, and when I glance at his body, every single muscle is pulled tight.

  Reaching over, I place my hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. Relax. I’m not there right now. I’m here…with you.”

  He blows out a breath and looks over at me quickly. His eyes show everything he’s trying to hold inside. My stomach drops. If he’s this angry just because of a lack of compliments, what’s he going to be like when he finds out the truth?

  A shudder runs through me at the thought, and I push it away. This weekend, my time with Joe isn’t about any of that.

  “Tell me more about you.” He swallows nervously, I assume thinking that I’m going to hit him with some heavy stuff. “Okay, so…cats or dogs?”

  A smile lights up his face and the skin around his eyes crinkles with amusement as he barks out a laugh.

  “Easy, dogs all the way.”

  “Correct.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realise this was a test, Miss Smith.”

  Embarrassment colours my cheeks. “Sorry, habit.”

  “Don’t apologise.” His hand sneaks over and rests high on my thigh. Its warmth and size feels too good to push away.

  “Pop or hip hop?”

  “Hip hop,” I say without even taking a breath.

  “Really?”

  “All day long.”

  “Go on then, it’s all yours.” He nods towards his phone that’s sitting in a clasp thing attached to the air vents.

  Leaning forward, I wake it up and am greeted by his passcode screen.

  “Nine seven one two,” he rattles off without a second thought.

  I stare at him as he focuses on where we’re going.

  “What?” His eyes flick to me, and I can tell he wants to hold them but he’s unable to given his task at hand.

  “You just gave me the code. That’s like…I don’t know. Serious.”

  “You didn't bat an eyelid about spending the weekend with me but this you freak out about?” His chuckle of amusement warms me from the inside out.

  “It just seems so…”

  “Serious?” he repeats. “Chill out. I can just change it later, it’s not like I’ve given you a key to my flat or anything.”

  He’s right, I know he is, but I also don’t think I believe a word that’s just fallen from his lips.

  Trying to ignore the tingles racing around my body every time he glances over at me, I scroll through his music. I come to a stop when I find something that looks interesting and hit play on his ‘Old Skool Trax’ playlist.

  He nods his head in approval and turns the volume up slightly, but not so much that we can’t still hold a conversation.

  “It’s your turn.” His hand squeezes my thigh, its heat burning my skin and making it hard to concentrate.

  “Uh…night in or night out?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “No, why?”

  “Wherever you are.”

  “That’s not how this game works,” I chastise, trying to ignore the elation that bubbles up within me as I repeat his answer over and over in my head.

  “You know, if you want to live a little, you’ve got to break the rules every now and then, right?”

  “Not my forte.”

  “So I’m learning.”

  Silence falls between us, but it’s not uncomfortable.

  “Okay, you want a better answer? Before meeting you, night out, always a night out. The more alcohol and willing bodies the better.” I sense him cringe at his own words, but it doesn’t stop him. “But now, I’d willingly trade all of that for a night on your sofa.”

  I’m totally lost for words, and when he glances over at me, his eyes dark and hungry, it doesn’t make it any better.

  “Pull over or keep driving?”

  “Huh, what?”

  “Pull over or keep driving?” he repeats slowly. His hand creeps up a little higher on my thigh, and I gasp when his little finger grazes against my core.

  Closing my eyes, I rest my head back and try to focus, to attempt to find my sanity that seems to fly out of the window whenever he’s around.

  “Keep driving,” I whisper. It sounds unconvincing.

  “Really?” His voice is deep and gravelly, and it hits exactly where he intends. My clit throbs as my body temperature increases another notch.

  “Really.” When I pull my eyelids open, a sign showing how close we are appears in front of me. I might be all for exploring my wild side, but I’m not sure that goes as far as getting caught for indecent exposure.

  Attempting to direct the topic of conversation onto something else before I change my mind, I rack my brain for another question. The silence becomes suffocating; the only thing I’m aware of is his large, imposing body next to me and his manly scent permeating the air. I crack the window slightly despite it being bitterly cold outside.

  “Marmite or peanut butter?”

  “Pft, Marmite, every day of the fucking week.”

  “Thank god. I might have made you turn the car back if you answered that wrong.”

  “Salt and vinegar or cheese and onion?”

  Our this and that game continues until he brings the van to a stop outside a huge Tudor building. It’s exactly the kind I imagined when I figured out where we were going, and the kind of place I could only dream of staying.

  “This is our hotel?” My voice is full of awe.

  “Yeah. Is that okay?”

  “Okay? Joe, this place is stunning. It must have cost you a damn fortune.”

  “As much as I’d love to agree, I actually got us an amazing last-minute deal.”

  “Just tell me how much my half is, and I’ll make sure to pay you back.”

  His eyes burn into the side of my head as I bend down to grab my bag, ready to get out. A shiver runs down my spine, and when I look over at him I understand why. His eyes are full of anger and frustration. The look is one I’m familiar with, and it makes my muscles tense, ready for what’s to come.

  “You’ll do no such thing. I booked this for you, as a gift. I don’t expect anything in return.” His voice is hard, but it doesn’t hold the disgust or vile words I’m so used to following anger.

  I open my mouth to respond, but he beats me to it.

  “And don’t even think about arguing.”

  “I wasn’t,” I lie. “I was going to ask if you were sure you didn’t want anything in return.”

  His eyes darken further, but it’s no longer with anger. They drop from mine
in favour of my lips, and I can't help my tongue sneaking out to wet my bottom one in preparation for what I hope is to come. We’ve been together over two hours and side by side in this confined space for most of that, and he’s yet to do anything aside from place his hand on my thigh and look at me like he wants to devour me.

  He clears his throat. “Come on, let’s check in.” It takes him a few seconds to do as he suggested. His eyes are too focused on my lips to move.

  Grabbing both of our bags, he takes my hand and, after placing a kiss to my knuckles, threads our fingers together and guides me towards the entrance.

  “I’ve got a room booked for Mr. Kingsman,” he says, seemingly oblivious to the girl behind the reception desk drooling over him.

  “Oh um…yes. I have some good news for you as well—it seems your room has been upgraded.” He looks over at me and winks. I damn near melt into a puddle on the floor.

  The receptionist hands over our key and talks through a couple of things, but I don’t pay any attention. I’m too busy taking note of the intricate tattoos that cover Joe’s arms and hands.

  “Your dinner reservation is for nine o’clock. It’ll be in our restaurant just behind me,” she explains seconds before Joe thanks her and takes my hand once again. “Would you like any help with your luggage?” Joe waves her off, and we head for the lift.

  “I think she liked you,” I say once the doors have closed us inside the small space.

  “Didn’t notice.”

  “How’s that possible? She was about ready to jump the desk so she could lick you.”

  “You were standing next to me, Quinn. Why would I be paying attention to anyone else?”

  “I…uh…” The lift opens on the top floor of the hotel, and we walk out hand in hand.

  Joe holds the keycard up to the pad, and the door clicks unlocked. Dropping my hand, he reaches for the handle and pushes it open.

  “After you.”

  I step forward and my eyes go wide.

  “Wow.” I walk into the huge, luxurious room, trying and failing to take it all in. The old beams are through the walls and ceilings, giving it the perfect old and rustic look that’s stereotypical of the buildings here. The rest of the room is in keeping with the age of the building, but it’s mixed with a few sleek modern touches.