Beyond the Seduction

by M.A. Stacie

  “Let me get the spare lid, and I’ll take you where you need to be.”

  “Lid?” she asked, perplexed.

  He motioned with his hands around his head, perplexing her further. “Helmet. You know, for my bike. So I can be the perfect gentleman and take you home.”

  “You ride a bike?”

  Lifting a shiny, black helmet from a box, Trace turned his attention back to her. “Does that impress you?”

  “I think it’s very clear I was impressed with you before I found out about the bike. However, knowing that does make you much hotter.” She grinned and took a step over to him.

  “Damn, I should have told you about the bike earlier.”

  Shae shrugged. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. We agreed, one time. We had it.” She could have kicked herself for underlining that particular point.

  Trace held up four fingers and winked. “Four times, babe. Four wonderful fucking times.”

  “Are we back to you being shit at math?” she teased even though her heartbeat sped up at the reference to the sex.

  He tossed the helmet across to her before pushing his feet into a pair of well-worn biker boots. Not bothering to straighten his jeans, Trace grabbed a set of keys from the counter and picked up his jacket. “Do you need some sweats? Riding on the bike can be a bit cold.”

  “A hoodie would be great. Um, if we’re going on a bike I could do with some pants, too. My skirt is a bit short . . . and I still haven’t found my panties.”

  Trace snorted.

  “I’ll give the sweats back to your sister when Ella has her next dance lesson.”

  He tossed a gray hoodie and sweatpants over to her, not commenting on how she was returning them to him. She pulled them on, and they left his apartment, though she couldn’t help giving the place one last look. Her night with Trace was one hell of an encounter. It was normal for her to feel sadness at its end. That’s what she told herself as she followed Trace to the parking lot below the building.

  A week ago, she’d have said the two of them getting together was ridiculous. However, the more time she spent in his presence the more she came to like him. Shae saw the hurt reflected in his eyes, understood his reluctance to share, and also comprehended his need to make his intentions clear from the start. She couldn’t dislike him for any of that, but the pang of regret that they wouldn’t have more was still there, aching in her chest.

  Shae had her own reasons for keeping things light. Having just recently ended a relationship, she was in no rush to start another. There was also her mother to contend with. Dealing with her could be a full-time job at times, so between Lisbeth and the dance school, Shae had enough going on in her life. A night with Trace had served as a perfect diversion from all that.

  “Shae? Are you coming?”

  Trace lowered the helmet onto his head and revved the bike while Shae hurried to pull on her own and climb behind him. Snuggling against him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. She inhaled, the leather of his jacket mixing with his musk.

  “Ready?” he asked, raising his voice.

  Shouting her response, Shae clung on tight. The bike roared from the lot and zipped into the morning traffic. Shae laughed, loving the rumble of the bike beneath her. The vibration of the thundering engine rolled through her body, causing a distinct tingle between her thighs. She swayed as Trace rounded a corner, and her legs clenched against him.

  Deciding to enjoy the ride home, she pressed her cheek against his leather-clad back and closed her eyes. Her body vibrated to the rumble of the bike, her sex growing wet from the closeness to Trace. Being so near him made her body respond as it had done the night before. It called to him, her nipples hardening as they begged for his touch. She had to remind herself that their time was up and he was just taking her home.

  Trace stopped the bike outside the dance studio, shouting his question. “Which way to your house?”

  “It’s just a few blocks away,” she replied, giving him some rapid directions.

  Revving the bike, he shot them back into a stream of traffic. Shae clung on to him, sad that their moment was about to end, and as they got closer, she felt that moment disappear completely.

  Her legs were like Jell-O when she climbed off the bike, her hands trembling a little when she handed the helmet to him. Trace propped his own helmet between his thighs, pushing his arm through the visor of the one he’d loaned her so that it rested on his forearm and allowed him to still grip the handlebars.

  “There you go. Delivered right to the door.”

  “Thanks for the ride. I could have called a cab, though.”

  Trace rolled his eyes, his hands drumming a rhythm on his helmet. “We’ve been over this, and the point is moot anyway—we’re here.”

  Shae looked over to her house. “Back to reality, huh?”

  “Yup. You don’t sound too happy about that.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Just sometimes you wish for things . . . damn, ignore me. Guess I’m miserable when I’m tired. And after last night, I’m exhausted.”

  Flashing perfect teeth, Trace winked. “You betcha. Now go on. Back to your reality.”

  “Um, okay. Well, it’s been . . . fun.” Shae turned, uncertain about whether she should have kissed him goodbye. She walked up the steps to her home, but Trace shouted at her before she reached the door.

  “You gave me just what I needed, Shae Bennett. Thank you.”

  A lump formed in her throat as she waved in response. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to let loose until he’d said that, but now it was over. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the front door, hearing Trace’s bike roar away as she stepped inside. The loud music and smell of smoke hit her instantly. The music wasn’t her mother’s usual type. In fact, she recognized it as one of her own. “Mom?”

  Doubting Lisbeth could hear her over the noise. Shae dropped her purse onto the small table by the door and began to move through the rooms. She shouted for her mom a few more times, receiving no response in return. The living room turned up empty, the sound from the stereo the one thing to greet her. Shae switched it off, exhaling as silence settle around her. The noxious scent still floated around. “Mom, are you home?”

  Again nothing.

  Starting to grow concerned, Shae walked into the kitchen, where the floor was littered with broken shards of a vase. Sunflowers lay wilting on the tiles.

  Her heart started a rapid beat. The acrid burn increased as she inhaled, growing stronger the more she moved into the kitchen. A low hiss snaked into the air, a small plume of smoke coming from a saucepan on the stove. The flame still burned underneath it and whatever had been in the pan had long since burned dry. The plastic handle had begun to melt, the stench emitting a toxic tang in the room.

  “Jesus!” she exclaimed, flipping off the flame and wetting a cloth in the sink. She placed the dripping rag over the warped handle, hoping to stop the melt enough so that she could trash it.

  A whimper had her spinning around to see a pair of slippers poking out from underneath the table. A zing of relief shot through her, but she proceeded with caution as she dropped to her knees. Dread soured her stomach, the whole situation so strange she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

  “Mom?” she said when she met the petrified gaze of Lisbeth.

  “S-Shae?” She shifted, trying to stand up. “Oh, thank God you’re home.”

  “What’s going on?” Shae held out her hand and tugged her mom to standing. She pulled out a chair, easing Lisbeth down onto it. Her mom wobbled, her limbs shaking as though she’d been stuck under the table for some time. “How long have you been sitting there, Mom?”

  Worry had Shae’s skin chilling and a cold trickle of sweat rolled down her spine. The situation felt all wrong.

  “The saucepan,” Lisbeth stated, her voice far calmer now. “It wouldn’t stop hissing at me.”

  Shae frowned, utterly perplexed. “Why didn’t you take it off the heat? Or turn the stove off? And
what the hell were you trying to cook?”

  Lisbeth’s brows knitted as she thought. “I-I—Shae, I don’t know. I can’t recall.” Her hand shook as she lifted it to swipe a stray tear from her cheek. It smudged her makeup, leaving a pale track along the skin.

  “What about the music?”

  Lisbeth stuttered, tugging her satin robe tighter around her body. “The hissing wouldn’t stop.”

  Having only been given certain pieces of the puzzle, Shae struggled to put them together. It was clear something was wrong, but she was at a loss about what. The entire situation left her battling for words. “Are you hurt?”

  Lisbeth shook her head, the confusion disappearing from her eyes. Her spine stiffened, her shoulders straightening, and she started to comb her fingers through her hair. “I must be a complete mess, darling. I haven’t had time to dress today.” She squinted, her gaze raking Shae from top to toe. “Have you been out? To the studio?”

  The chill that had set in lowered Shae’s temperature by a few more degrees. The switch in her mother’s composure didn’t sit well with her. It had been too quick. She battled for a way to proceed. “M-Mom, I’ve been out all night—at a friend’s. I’ve just come home.”

  “Of course you have.” She stood up. “Don’t speak to me as if I’m a child, Shae.”

  Swallowing a snappy retort, Shae went back to the melted saucepan and began cleaning up. She tossed it in the sink, flipping on the faucet to wash over the blackened mess.

  “Did you have a good time, darling?” Lisbeth asked, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

  A flutter started in her chest, her heart rate increasing at the thought of just how good her time had been. “Perfect,” she replied, allowing Lisbeth to hug her.

  “You’re a good daughter. I don’t say that enough, Shae. But you should know that you are.”

  The sourness that had started earlier increased, the back of her eyes prickling with impending tears. “I love you, Mom.”

  Chapter 10

  “Hello. Lucian Folds.”

  “Hey, Dad, it’s Shae.”

  Silence greeted her, along with the usual awkwardness that flowed between them whenever they spoke. Shae kept their interactions to a minimum. Her father preferred it that way, and Shae could do without feeling inadequate whenever she did have to talk to her father.

  Lucian Folds was a busy man. He’d told her that on many occasions. He didn’t have time to chat, at least that’s what he told her.

  The sound of him clearing his throat popped down the line. Apparently her father wasn’t in the mood for any kind of small talk. No surprise for her there, then.

  “Are you busy? It’s just that I needed to talk to you. About Mom.”

  Lucian coughed. “I was going to call you myself this week. I suppose you’ve saved me the job.”

  Well, didn’t that just give her the warm fuzzies? Not.

  Her father never bothered to hide his disdain for his illegitimate daughter. Yet another reason she didn’t speak to the man very often.

  Gritting her teeth and beating down the urge to hang up on him, she tried to sound interested. “Oh? What did you want to call me for?”

  “How are you?” he asked, finding his manners that bit too late. His voice was too strained for him actually to give a shit. Hell would freeze over before that happened.

  “Fine. Thanks. You?” She hated this stilted crap.

  “Acceptable.”

  “Laura and Haley?” This was complete bullshit, but she wouldn’t lower herself to his shitty level. It annoyed him that she asked about his wife and daughter—that was the sole reason she inquired about them. She couldn’t care less. None of them cared about her. Or Lisbeth.

  “They’re taken care of. Shae, I’m a busy man.” Didn’t she know it? She bit her lip as he continued to speak. “Won’t you get to the point?”

  “It’s Mom,” Shae blurted out, her hand tightening on her cell. “Something happened, and it freaked me out.”

  “Only one thing? From what I recall that was part of life with Lisbeth.”

  Shae huffed. How the hell would he know what life was like with her mom? His affair with Lisbeth had been short, and as far as she knew, never contained overnight stays. Shae was a mistake that had almost cost Lucian his marriage to Laura.

  “This is different.”

  “Lisbeth has always been rather manic at times. You’ll notice it more now that you’re grown.” He inhaled. “Speaking of which . . .”

  Shae’s heart stopped beating as she waited for the bomb to drop.

  “I’m reminding you both that the rent is due next month for the yearly lease of the studio. I will no longer be paying it. Nor will I be subsidizing the mortgage of the house.”

  The entire thing was delivered with such cold precision it made her stomach plummet.

  “Pardon?”

  “You’re a big girl now. I am under no obligation to pay for your care. I should have stopped years ago. It was an error on my accountant’s behalf. That situation has now been rectified.”

  “Meaning you fired him.”

  “Not your concern. The lease for the studio is up on the twenty-first of the month. I trust you have all the information to contact the relevant parties.”

  “Why would I have that?” she snapped, trying to wrap her head around the last few minutes of the conversation. “You said yourself that you’ve dealt with this for years.”

  “You must have the details somewhere.” He sounded frustrated.

  “Mom might. I hope she does—wait a minute. You said you were reminding us. Does Mom know about this already?”

  Another exasperated sigh whooshed down the line. “Lisbeth was informed two months ago when the error was located. I’m assuming she hasn’t thought to let you know?”

  “No. Maybe it slipped her mind?”

  “Like many of the conversations I have with her. So, Shae, is it clear that I will no longer be supporting you and her? You will be liable for your own care. Finally.”

  Shae sneered, unable to stop from blurting out her next statement. “You hardly cared for me.”

  “That is a matter of opinion. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” So formal. So uncaring.

  “No. I won’t take up any more of your time. I know how important it is.”

  “Wonderful,” he replied, missing the obvious sarcasm in her tone. “Then I shall say goodbye.”

  “Yeah. Bye.” Shae ended the call, launching her cell across her bedroom. Why the hell she allowed that man to get to her, she didn’t know. She hated how much power he had over her. The man had been nothing but a name and a monthly lunch date for sixteen years of her life. He didn’t care about her—she knew that, and yet every single conversation with him pissed her off for the entire day. She didn’t even think of him as her father. He’d never accepted her as a daughter. Not like he embraced Haley. Shae was nothing more than a dirty digression he kept secret from others. No amount of money changed that. Nevertheless, now she had to sort more mess out. Lisbeth would dislike any discussion about the house or studio, but unless she was ready to lose both, they would have to talk about it.

  The studio did well, so she saw no issues with the classes paying enough to cover the lease. The mortgage concerned her. She was oblivious to how much either cost each month, or how long there was left on the mortgage.

  “Shit!”

  Shae flopped onto the bed, disliking the tension that banded across her shoulders. The heavy press of responsibility weighed on her mind, making her head throb.

  Checking her watch, she blinked not quite believing how late it was. Her mom would now be at her book club, and calling her to talk about her conversation with her father would just aggravate Lisbeth. Without a doubt, she’d be speaking to her tomorrow. They didn’t have a lot of time to deal with it all.

  Her cell buzzed from wherever it had landed. She ignored it. The last thing she needed right now was round two with Lucian Folds.
The buzzing stopped.

  Groaning, Shae flopped onto the bed, lying back to stare up at the ceiling. She ground her teeth, willing herself not to cry over the man and his ridiculously high expectations.

  The buzzing began again, though this time she felt it, too. Her cell was next to her ear, nestled between the pillows. Giving in, and needing the distraction, she answered without looking at who it was. “Hello?”

  “How long are you gonna be? The chef is getting a little testy.”

  Shae shot upright at the sound of Kate’s voice. Shit. “I’m sorry! Fuck! I forgot. Daddy dearest sidetracked me.”

  “Oh, joyful,” Kate said. “So how long?”

  “Give me thirty.”

  Kate clucked her tongue. “We promised we’d do this tasting, Shae. He’s so into the idea of a specific low-fat menu. Please don’t keep him hanging. He’s kinda hot.”

  Making her promises, Shae hung up and began gathering her jeans and a smart-looking top. Her hair was a mess, and her face was red and blotchy from her still-simmering anger. Covering it with foundation and powder would help, though she doubted her hair was as easily sorted.

  Switching her flat iron on, she began to get changed. The remnants of her conversation with Lucian lingered, the sharp pangs in her chest still harsh and unrelenting.

  “Dude, you are way more chilled,” Nix yelled, slapping Trace on the back of the head.

  Drum snickered in his seat across the table from them, lifting his shot glass and downing it before saying, “He got his dick wet.”

  Nix’s eyes widened. “Oh, do tell, Mr. Jacks. Do I know the chickie?”

  Trace grimaced. “Chickie?”

  “Oh shit, was it a dude? Is that why you’ve been so hormonal? I didn’t have a fucking clue you went that way. Not a dicky.”

  Trace shoved at Nix’s shoulder. “No way, man. Shae is without a doubt female.”

  “Well, if she loosened the noose around your neck then she’s cool.”