Tempting

by Crystal Kaswell

  I need to tell Ethan right away. I need to share my happiness with him. And I need us celebrating properly after.

  The front door of Ethan's place is already open. I knock and step inside.

  There's music coming from the practice room. I listen until I can pick out the sound of Ethan on lead guitar. My smile gets wider.

  He has everything he wants. Now, I'll have everything I want, too.

  I listen until I can't take it anymore. The song is amazing but I need his arms around me. I need him throwing me on the bed, peeling off my clothes, and reminding me how well we fit together.

  "Hey." I knock on the practice room's open door.

  Ethan steps into the hallway, his smile already at his cheeks.

  He slides his arms around me to scoop me up then he's spinning me around.

  I squeal, holding onto his strong shoulders as tightly as I can. This is how things are supposed to feel. And I haven't even told him yet. It can only get better.

  Ethan and I are a team. It might be tough doing long distance, but a master’s is only two years. That's nothing compared to us having the rest of our lives together.

  "Let's go to your room." I press my lips to his. The peck isn't enough. My hands go to his dark, wavy hair. I pull him closer and I suck on his lower lip until he's groaning in my mouth.

  "What the fuck did I do to deserve this, Vi?" He sets me down. His eyes are on fire, that look that screams I need you naked immediately. "You look hot as hell in that skirt."

  "Do I?"

  "You teasing me, honey? I'll get you back for that." His blue eyes light up as he smiles. He slides his hands to my ass and pulls me closer.

  Then his lips are on mine and his tongue is in my mouth. This is the first time we've really kissed since it happened. This is the first time it's felt like everything really is going to be okay.

  I soak in the feeling of his tongue dancing with mine. Then his hands are under my skirt. He presses his palm against my sex, over my panties.

  His breath is heavy when he pulls back. "You're wet."

  "Why do you think I want to go to your room?"

  His smile widens. It's earnest. It's without defenses. The pain and distance of the last two months is already melting.

  It's all in his eyes. I'm back. Grief isn't drowning me any longer. It hurts, yeah, but I can feel pleasure too.

  God, the pleasure I can feel.

  I take his hand and lead him to his room—Ethan lives with his parents too. He has other options, but he prefers it this way. His parents are always out of town. He and his older brother don't want their teenage sister stuck in the big house all by herself.

  His room is clean and bright. With the window open, the whole place smells like the ocean.

  Ethan slides his hands to my hips. "How about you come on my face before we talk?"

  "How about after?"

  "How about you come on my hands then my face after?"

  "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Strong."

  He smiles and presses his crotch into mine, so I can feel his erection. "You have no fucking idea how badly I want you right now."

  "Ethan…" I'm buzzing everywhere. I stare into Ethan's gorgeous blue eyes. This is an important moment. I want to remember every second of it.

  "You gonna tell me or you gonna give me blue balls?" he teases.

  He has an excellent point. I need to tell him so we can move on to the celebrating properly part.

  "I got in." I pull my letter from my pocket, unfold it, and offer it to him. "I got into the master’s program at NYU."

  He's not smiling.

  He's not scooping me into his arms and spinning me again.

  He's not happy. His eyes are turned down and his brow is furrowed.

  He takes the paper and reads it slowly. "You're moving to New York City?"

  "It's only for two years." I reach for his bicep but he pulls his arm away. "I told you I applied."

  "You said there was no chance you'd get in."

  "I thought there wasn't."

  "You're supposed to tour with us all summer. You're supposed to start that job here in November." His eyes fill with frustration.

  But that doesn't make any sense.

  I reach for him again. This time, he lets me touch him. But he stares at my hand like it's doing him wrong.

  What the fuck? I expect this shit from everyone else. I get that it's weird that I love math. Everyone acts like it makes me a freak. Everyone except Ethan.

  He gets it.

  He always has.

  Why isn't he happy for me?

  Maybe he's still surprised. Maybe he doesn't realize that this is a beginning and not an ending.

  "Things will be the same as they are now. Only I'll be in New York." I stare into his blue eyes. "You can stay with me when you aren't touring. I can fly out on weekends."

  His eyes bore into mine. "You already decided?"

  What? This is what I want, what I've always wanted. He knows that.

  "You're just leaving. Like that?" He takes a step backwards.

  "School doesn't start until late August." I… I don't get it. I go to all his shows. I do everything I can to support Ethan's band.

  It's not an obligation.

  We're a team.

  Violet and Ethan against the world. That's our fucking motto.

  He's still staring at me like I'm betraying him. "If you want to leave, then leave."

  "It's not like that."

  "What's it like? You're leaving cause you're so crazy in love with me you need to be three thousand miles away? You've been pushing me away since Asher… you don't want to talk, fine. You don't want to be in the same state as me, fine. Go."

  I grab the paper from his hands. "It's not like that, Ethan."

  "Then explain what it's like."

  "We're a team."

  "Teams don't make unilateral decisions." He pulls his door open and takes a step into the hallway. "You've already decided to leave. Why drag it out?"

  "Ethan…"

  "If you want to walk away, do it."

  His eyes flare with frustration.

  He…

  This doesn't make any sense.

  We need to talk later. We'll have cooler heads. He'll apologize. He'll realize that this is for us.

  I grab the paper from him, crumple it, and shove it back in my pocket. "Fine."

  "That's it, Vi. You walk out that door, it's over between us."

  He stares at me with those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

  "Things don't have to change." I stare back at him. "I can still come on tour with you this summer."

  He shakes his head. "You've already decided to leave. Don't bullshit me about it now."

  But this isn't bullshit. Things can stay the same. Why can't he see that?

  His expression gets intense. "If you want to leave, do it."

  My brow furrows. I hate to leave things like this. But I don't see what other choice I have. "Fine. I'm glad your dreams are more important than mine."

  I stare back at him, waiting for a response.

  Nothing. He just looks at me like I slapped him and told him I slept with his friend.

  I can't talk to him right now. Not like this.

  I walk out the door, sit in my car until I'm calm enough to drive home, and wait for him to apologize.

  All night, I wait for him to apologize.

  All week.

  All month.

  All fucking semester.

  He never does.

  Chapter Two

  Ethan

  The woman across the bar is staring at me with lust in her eyes. Is that oh God, he's hot or damn, this is my chance to fuck a famous guy?

  No way to tell from here.

  I shoot her a maybe you can fuck me look.

  She sighs with pleasure. Her tongue slides over her lips.

  She's objectively hot. Tight dress. Big tits. Dark hair in carefully messy waves. Violet always wore her hair like that, only hers was t
hat gorgeous shade of strawberry blond.

  What the fuck? Violet's not getting space in my brain. Not tonight.

  Nothing is knocking me out tonight. Not even that nagging feeling in my stomach, reminding me that I always feel emptier after.

  That I miss how intimate sex felt with Violet.

  Coming to our old hangout spot was a mistake. But I'm here now. I'm not gonna wallow. Either I take this woman around back and spend half an hour making sure we both enjoy ourselves or I go home and practice the songs I need to master before our show in San Francisco.

  I run my hand through my dark hair—that always works—and shoot the woman another smile.

  She looks me up and down, licking her lips as her gaze settles on my crotch. She's practically screaming I'd like to suck you off, anyplace that works for you.

  At this point, I know the drill backwards and forwards.

  She moves closer. Her expression gets nervous. Too nervous for I've never picked up a guy before, especially given her age. Nothing wrong with an older woman—she looks about thirty—but they don't usually get nervous picking up guys.

  Fifty bucks says she's about to ask if I'm really Ethan Strong.

  A hundred bucks says she follows up with something about how she'd never screw a stranger, but she feels like she already knows me.

  Hell, a thousand bucks says she mentions something about my skill with my hands.

  It's true—I am fucking fantastic with my hands.

  She shimmies her hips as she moves closer. Her eyes find mine. "I hate to ask, but are you really Ethan Strong?"

  Damn. So much for a night of anonymous sex. I'm about to become the story she tells all her friends.

  I smile my megawatt smile, the one I use to win over the crowd. "That's me. What's your name, sweetheart?"

  "Natasha." She laughs. "You're so funny in interviews. Do you get that all the time?"

  Yes. I smile back at her. "Not as often as I'd like."

  "I normally don't do this kind of thing but I feel like I can trust you." She squeezes my bicep over my leather jacket. "Oh listen to me, I forgot to start with the best part. You're so good in Dangerous Noise. Your hands must be talented."

  "You can be the judge of that, sweetheart." I try to hold my smile, but it's getting difficult. This is such bullshit. She must realize it too.

  There. I manage to smile wider. If I'm going for this, I have to hold up my end of the rock star fucks groupie bargain.

  She gets her fantasy. I get a few minutes out of my head. We both come. Yeah, I'm using her, but she's using me too.

  It's win-win.

  Usually.

  Right now, I'm having a hard time convincing my body to get in gear. This whole place screams of Violet. And the contrast between the way Violet stared at me—she saw every fucking inch of me—and the way this woman is looking at me, like I have famous guy tattooed on my forehead, is underlining how much this is bullshit.

  I have to move closer. I have to slide my hands to her ass and whisper in her ear I shouldn't do this, sweetheart—to be honest, I've already forgotten her name—but there's something special about you.

  That's my usual move.

  I shrug my shoulders to shake off my funk. It's been almost two years since Violet left. Doesn't matter that no one compares to her. I'm not looking for a new girlfriend. I'm not looking to fall in love.

  I'm not interested in love. That's more bullshit.

  "This bar is getting crowded, huh?" she asks. "How about we go back to your place?"

  Uh-uh. Nobody comes back to my place. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna leave her wanting. I turn on the charm. "My sister's in town. How about we go back to your place. Or-" I slide my arm around her waist "—we could go around back."

  "Okay." She grabs at my shoulders.

  "I like your dress, sweetheart." I play with the spaghetti strap going over her shoulder. This is happening. And it's gonna feel good. Period. Violet doesn't enter into the equation. "Have to apologize in advance for how I'm going to destroy it."

  She lets out a needy sigh.

  I lead her through the side door. No sense in wasting time. I need to stop thinking.

  I pin her to the wall.

  She rises to her tiptoes to kiss me. I turn so she gets my cheek. From the sound of her whine, it's not what she wants, but that's too bad.

  Her lips go to my neck.

  I close my eyes.

  Need to get into this. But my head keeps filling with thoughts of Violet—of her soft, red lips sucking on my neck as she climbs on top of me.

  My cock springs to attention.

  Uh-uh. I may be a manwhore, but I'm not tacky enough to think about my ex when I'm fucking a stranger.

  I pull back to take a long look at this woman. Whatever her name is.

  Her tongue slides over her lips. She wants me. Badly. Usually, that's enough.

  But right now…

  Damn, what the hell is wrong with me? I close my eyes and force my thoughts out of my brain.

  She tugs at my t-shirt and runs her fingers over my chest.

  There. Pleasure starts pushing everything else away.

  I can do this.

  Her hand goes to my jeans. She undoes my belt. Pulls down my zipper.

  Then she's jumping back, hiding behind me. The side door is swinging open. Someone is stepping into the alley.

  Better call this now. Shit's not happening with her. I should go home and practice those new songs. I should wait until I'm someplace that doesn't remind me of my ex to pick up a one-night stand.

  I rebutton my pants and fasten my belt.

  There's a woman in front of the half-open side door. She's on her knees, pressing her hand over her mouth.

  Poor girl doesn't know her limits. It's been a long time since I drank enough to throw up but I don't remember it fondly.

  She's a champ. She coughs but she doesn't gag. It takes a minute, but she manages to push herself up and brush off her dirty knees.

  No-

  I rub my eyes. There's no way in hell that's her.

  I must be seeing things.

  Violet blinks back at me. "Ethan?"

  Fuck, that's her voice. I'd know it anywhere. Her hair is different—it's cut short, a severe bob with neat bangs—but those green eyes give her away.

  "Vi?" I ask.

  Her eyes go wide. They're more red than green at the moment. She's been crying. Or trying not to cry. Violet never was the type to cry in front of other people.

  She grabs for the door but it's already shut.

  "Fuck." She takes a step backwards.

  Her makeup is the same—heavy enough to scream leave me alone, light enough to show off the adorable freckles on her cheeks and nose.

  The woman paws at my arm. "Ethan." She says my name like we're old lovers, not strangers. "Do you know her?"

  I swallow hard. Yeah. I know her. I know every inch of her.

  Violet's eyes are as glassy as they are miserable. She's past buzzed and well into drunk.

  Of course she's drunk. It was two years ago that her brother… That was the day her heart broke, the day she locked me out. Took a few months to make it official, but it was two years ago I lost her.

  Two years ago exactly.

  I turn back to the woman. "Sorry, sweetheart, I'll have to take a rain check. I'll see you around."

  She pouts.

  Violet takes another step backwards. Then she turns and hightails it out of the alley.

  There's nowhere for her to run. The parking lot is around the corner. She's far too drunk to drive.

  I run after her. Even in her heels, she's fast. I have to sprint to catch her.

  Damn, those heels do things to her already long legs. Her crimson and black dress is tight around her curves.

  Every fucking inch of my body wakes up at the thought of pinning her to the wall. Of her lips on my skin. Of her hands on my hips.

  It's not like with the groupie. It's not like with any other woman.


  Fuck knows I've tried finding another woman who feels like Violet. There's no one.

  I grab her wrist. She stumbles, so I pull her body against mine and hold her steady.

  My voice is dripping with frustration. "Vi, where the hell are you going?" No matter how badly she hurt me, I'm not letting her hurt herself.

  "Not planning on watching you screw a… I guess she's a 'groupie' now that you're a rock star and not a guy playing at Chain Reaction."

  "You upset about me being a rock star now?"

  "Don't really care what you do, Ethan. Fuck as many sweethearts as you want. I hope you enjoy it."

  "I do."

  "Good. You have something to say to me or you here to brag?"

  "You're drunk."

  "I'm aware of that." She pulls her arms free and spins on her heels.

  "I'm not letting you drive anywhere."

  Her eyes find mine. "I haven't heard a word from you in almost two years. You don't get a say in what I do or don't do."

  "You planning on driving drunk?"

  She folds her arms, unwilling to admit I'm right.

  "Didn't think so."

  "Okay. You win. I'm calling a cab. You've done your civic duty and warned the inebriated woman she shouldn't drive drunk. Public sex aside, you're an upstanding citizen." She digs her cell phone from her purse.

  "I'm not leaving you alone," I say. "Not with that hurt look on your face."

  "Maybe I'm hurt because I'm not over you breaking my heart."

  What the hell? She's the one who left. She got on a plane and moved three thousand miles away. But we both know that's not why she's hurt. Not right now. "I'm sorry about Asher."

  "Thank you." Her eyes fill with pain. She opens her mouth to speak then she shuts it and shakes her head. "I thought you were on tour."

  "You follow Dangerous Noise?"

  "I hear things."

  "We're on a break. Tour starts up in two days." I take a step closer. I let my fingers brush against her wrists. It feels impossible but this really is Violet.

  She pulls her arms around her chest and rubs her bare arms.

  "Here." I slide my leather jacket off my shoulders and offer it to her.

  She shakes her head.

  "We can stand here arguing all night. I'm not letting you drive anywhere and I'm not leaving you alone. Not today."

  She blinks and a tear catches on her lashes. Despite the I hate you, Ethan stare, she takes my jacket.