Tempting
Crystal Kaswell
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
TEMPTING
First edition. September 28, 2017
Copyright © 2017 Crystal Kaswell.
Written by Crystal Kaswell.
Cover by RBA Designs
Photo by Wander Augiar
Model Jonny James
Contents
Also by Crystal Kaswell
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
56. Epilogue
Dangerous Kiss
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Have You Read Dangerous Noise?
Dangerous Crush
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
Stay in Touch
Also by Crystal Kaswell
Also by Crystal Kaswell
Dangerous Noise
Dangerous Kiss - Ethan
Dangerous Crush – Kit
Dangerous Rock – Joel
Dangerous Fling – Mal
Dangerous Encore - series sequel
Sinful Serenade
Sing Your Heart Out - Miles
Strum Your Heart Out - Drew
Rock Your Heart Out - Tom
Play Your Heart Out - Pete
Sinful Ever After – series sequel
Sign up for the Crystal Kaswell mailing list
About This Book
He’s my best friend’s older brother, off limits and incredibly tempting.
I shouldn’t peak into Brendon’s sketchbook, even if the tattoo artist is as brooding and stoic as the day is long. I can’t help myself. I peel it open, run my fingers along the paper, soak up every ounce of him.
His drawings are as beautiful and bold as his dark eyes and his cocky smile. Only, there, on the third page--that’s no tattoo mockup. That’s me.
Naked.
Ready.
Waiting in his bed.
There’s no denying it--those are my blue glasses, my green eyes, my flushed cheeks.
Brendon wants me.
The smoking hot, ten thousand miles out of my league bad boy wants me-- a good girl virgin with thick glasses and no game.
It’s perfect.
Only it’s not.
He’s my best friend’s older brother. He’s off limits.
But damn is he tempting.
A standalone romance with a best friend’s brother theme
More books about the men of Inked Hearts coming in 2018
Note from the author: Brendon also appears in Dangerous Kiss, included with your copy of Tempting for a limited time. Tempting ends at 52% on your Kindle.
This book contains subject matter that some readers may find triggering.
Chapter One
Brendon
Kaylee plants her palms on the table. Her cheeks spread to her ears. They're pink. Then red. She's laughing so hard her tits are shaking.
Damn, that tight blue dress, the same blue as her glasses.
She looks amazing, like the sweet, innocent angel she is and like the sex goddess I'm desperate to unleash.
But I still hate that scrap of fabric with every fiber of my being.
I hate every ounce of air between us.
Every flint of wood in this table.
Every guy here looking at her the way I am.
Fuck, if I don't get ahold of myself, I'm going to break a few arms. And maybe my hand. And I can't exactly finish Alex's back piece at nine a.m. tomorrow with broken fingers.
Em wraps her arms around Kaylee.
Kaylee laughs, pushing her long blond hair behind her ears and gathering it at one shoulder.
Her eyes flit around the room.
They catch mine.
They scream I'm about to wish for you to take me to your room.
Or maybe that's in my head.
Today is the day.
She's no longer a temptation that can get me locked up. Just a temptation that can rip away everything that matters to me.
Em leans in to whisper in her ear. I know my sister. I know exactly what she's saying. Wish for someone to fuck tonight.
Not happening.
Not as long as I'm here.
I hate to be a cunt-blocker, really, I do, but there's no way Kaylee is taking home anyone on my watch.
I have no idea how she's managed to stay single this long.
She's beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. And innocent... fuck, the way her cheeks are blushing.
The way she's leaning over the table, letting her eyelids fall together, parting her lips...
I could teach her so many things.
I could teach her everything.
But I can't.
She's my sister's best friend.
And as much as Em is a brat, she's all the family I've got.
These two are the most important people in my life.
My cock is going to have to cool it.
It's not getting anywhere near Kaylee.
I plant on the Kelly green deck chair, the one under the old lamp with the too yellow bulb.
Even though we're in one of the most crowded cities in Southern California, the beach is empty. Still. All the
voices and laughter are coming from the house. The roar of the ocean isn't enough to muffle the party.
I should head inside and kick out Emma's friends. Insist on driving Kaylee back to her place. Lecture both of them about drinking too much.
But I'm not in the mood to play Dad today. I'm tired of playing Dad, period. Emma and I never got along, not exactly, but we used to have a rapport. We were a team. A you're annoying, but not quite as annoying as Mom or Dad team, but we were still a fucking team.
Now, the majority of my relationship is lecturing her and yelling some equivalent of go to your room.
And her yelling back you're not my dad.
I force myself to look out at the ocean.
It's beautiful. Dark water. Soft sand. Stars bright enough to shine against the black sky but dulled by light pollution all the same.
None of it distracts me.
None of the eight million things going on in my life distract me.
I need a way to get Kaylee out of my head. I've tried everything—work, play, other women, fucking myself, not fucking myself.
Nothing helps.
I pull out my sketchbook and flick my pen a few times. A few more. My warm up sketch is a messy abstract shape. It means something, I'm sure, but I don't have a clue what that is.
I turn the page. Outline the octopus going on Will's bicep tomorrow afternoon. Attempt to fill in the shading.
The details don't come. The only image in my mind is Kaylee. The brightness in her green eyes, the smile spreading over her pink lips, that coy hip tilt. Like she knows how badly I want my hands on those hips.
Like she's going to roll that dress up her thighs, plant her palms on the table, and shoot me a please, fuck me now look.
I don't need a tattoo mockup.
I need her naked in my bed.
"Hey." The side door slides open and Kaylee steps outside. Her steps aren't soft the way they normally are.
They're messy. Quick.
Her eyes are brighter than normal.
Bolder.
She plants on the lounge chair, next to me. Her thigh presses against mine. Her fingers skim the edges of my sketchbook.
She leans over my shoulder, pressing her chest against my arm, looking up at me with those doe eyes. "Can I see?"
Not the sketchbook. The shit I have in here, of her, will terrify her. Kaylee is sweet. Innocent. I haven't asked, but I'd bet—I have bet Dean—she's a virgin.
My cock rouses at the thought of being the first inside her. Fuck, my lips, my tongue, my fingers—every part of me wants to be her first.
Not happening.
"You looking for a nautical tattoo?" I shoot back.
Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "Maybe. What do you suggest?"
I drag my fingertips over her shoulder, drawing the shape that best suits her. It's a bad idea, touching her like this. It's doing shit to me.
And from the way her eyelids are pressing together and her lips are parting with a sigh, I'm pretty sure it's doing shit to her.
Fuck, I need a thousand cold showers.
Even if Kaylee wasn't Em's best friend, she's a sweet girl. Someone who deserves a nice guy. A guy who can give her a normal life. Not an asshole who destroys everything he touches.
Even so, I trace the outline of a would-be tattoo up to the tip of her shoulder. "A mermaid."
"I like it."
"I know. You've seen The Little Mermaid a thousand times."
"At least two thousand." She looks up at me. "What do you say? Right now? I'm finally old enough to sign the form."
"Okay." I take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Let's walk to the shop. One topless mermaid."
Her eyes go wide. She stammers, presses her toes together. The plastic of her heels clicks. Her teeth sink into her lip. "I, uh..."
"Hate having your bluff called?"
"No, I just... I need to think about it a little more."
"Bullshit." I can't help but smile. She's adorable flustered.
"No, just regular... uh... that isn't why I came out here."
I arch a brow.
She scoots toward me. It's a tiny movement. Soft. More like the Kaylee I know. The sober one.
"Well, it's my birthday." Her fingers curl around my wrist. "And I want a birthday kiss."
How about a birthday fuck? How about a birthday coming on my face until my lips are numb?
"I only give birthday spankings." My voice is steady even though my heart is pounding against my chest. Fuck, the thought of bending Kaylee over that table and—
"Okay." She presses her lips together. "Let's go. Right here, right now."
"You can handle eighteen?"
She nods.
She can't, but it's tempting anyway...
"Let's go, Brendon." She takes my hand and places it on her hip. Her eyes meet mine. They bore into mine. They demand every thought in my head. Or at least all the ones about stripping her naked. "Or did I call your bluff?"
"Bend over and plant your hands on the glass if you want to find out." She is calling my bluff. And now I'm calling hers.
Only this is one time—
My sister saves me from my filthy thoughts. She bounces out the door, throws her arms around Kaylee, and pulls her from her seat. "Stop hiding from all the guys at the party."
"Your brother is a guy."
Emma scoffs. Her nose scrunches. It lights up her dark eyes—the same deep brown as mine. She runs her fingers through her violet hair and just barely restrains herself from rolling her eyes.
Kaylee's fingers brush the back of my hand as she turns toward Emma. "Sorry, Em, but it's undeniable. Just look at him."
Emma sticks out her tongue and mouths gross. "Mr. Look What a Brooding Bad Boy I Am will be here tomorrow." She grabs Kaylee's hand and pulls her toward the door. "These other guys won't." Emma looks to me. "You don't have to stay and supervise."
"Nice try," I say.
Emma laughs. She blows me a kiss then turns back to her best friend. "Don't wait up."
Kaylee's eyes meet mine. "Did you mean it?"
One part of me did. The rest of me knows better. I play coy. Shrug.
"I'll collect eventually."
"Birthdays only."
"Even so."
I watch her round hips sway as she walks away.
Fuck, that dress...
Fuck me.
How the hell am I going to get this girl out of my head?
Chapter Two
Kaylee
I'm never drinking again.
Ever.
The pounding headache, cotton mouth, and torn up stomach are reason enough.
But the loss of inhibitions?
No. Thank. You.
I push myself out of Emma's bed—she's still in her shiny silver cocktail dress and most of her makeup—and slink to the bathroom across the hall.
There's noise downstairs. The drip of a coffee maker. The scratch of a spatula. The steady footsteps of a man I can never look in the eyes again.
Not after last night.
I want a birthday kiss.
Ugh.
Inhibitions are underrated. Criminally underrated. They keep you from making a fool of yourself.
They keep you from stepping out of line.
They keep you safe, period.
If it weren't for my inhibitions, everyone would know. And no one would look at me the way they do now—like it's possible I'm on my way to becoming a strong, independent woman.
I pee. Shower. Brush my teeth. Grab my pastel pink makeup bag—the one I adorned in song lyrics—and pick out exactly what I need.
Emma is the one who got me into makeup, but we wear it so differently. For her, it's fun. A way to express herself. To experiment.
For me, it's another necessary component of my shield. No one asks if you're okay if you look polished and awake. Nobody dives past the surface. Which means nobody gets closer than they should.
After I clean every spilled drop of powder foundati
on from the counter and towel-dry my hair, I head back to Emma's room.
She's out like a light. Her shoes, bag, and jewelry are strewn around the room. I take a moment to put everything away—hers and mine.
I practically live here. Which is why the room is as clean as it is.
I love Emma. She's my best friend, the only person I trust. Well, besides Grandma.
I say this with love.
She's a slob. A proud slob. One who insists she prefers her room messy. Supposedly, it inspires her creativity.
I don't care.
I can't stand it.
We fight about my clean-up efforts all the time. Usually, I get Brendon on my side. Usually, he delivers one of those I don't care if you're technically an adult, my house, my rules dad lines of his.
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