Living with Temptation

by Melinda Hale

  “You could’ve told me about this. I would’ve helped.”

  Even as she said it, Chelsea knew if Dean told her, she’d instantly hate the idea.

  “And if I did? Would you?”

  Chelsea hesitated. “Actually, no. Because I don’t want to be used!” She spoke the last word with contempt. The one word that described everything he’d done with her. The one word that summed up her pain.

  There was pain in Dean’s eyes, and he seemed at a loss for words.

  She let out a heavy sigh. “Why’d you do this? If we ended up together, you wouldn’t need a stupid façade.”

  “I didn’t want you getting involved,” he insisted, but flinched, knowing it was a weak excuse. “It was better that you didn’t know. I wanted my problems out of the way so we could focus on us. I wanted to make everything perfect.”

  Chelsea shrugged, her chest heavy. All the words Dean said didn’t matter, none of it could change what was happening. They couldn’t walk that bridge together, instead she stood at the end, her pain willing her not to cross it.

  Fear had done this. Fear of giving her heart to another and having it crushed. Now it was playing out before her, and even his apologies didn’t ease how she felt.

  “I really liked you, Dean. Everything that happened between us…you only wanted sex from me, didn’t you?”

  He took a deep breath and stepped towards her. “I’m going to be completely honest with you as I should’ve been from the start. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before. Yes, it was sex that interested me, but after…I wanted more.”

  Chelsea’s heart sank. Dean told her what she feared all this time – it was only sex. It initially meant nothing, not even friendship. But what could she believe?

  Chelsea blinked back tears and didn’t meet his gaze, hoping he wouldn’t ask if she was okay. She didn’t want to hear any concern in his voice. It would be enough to start the tears brimming in her eyes.

  The past few weeks with Dean were an amazing fantasy. Now she was back in reality. He lied to her, and she couldn’t accept it. The pain of his deceit brought back those feelings she’d buried away, the dark pain she’d experienced after Ryan betrayed her.

  “Did you plan on telling me about the vasectomy?”

  Dean’s eyes widened, a frown of confusion creasing his face. “Chelsea, I was going to explain everything. You don’t understand…”

  Knowing that he really had a vasectomy shocked her. Dean had taken a huge risk on his future, and he didn’t even tell her about it. Chelsea raised a hand, and she could feel it shaking. Her voice sounded small. “I don’t think I want to. It’s over.”

  “Damn it, I can’t lose you,” Dean pleaded. “I’m not letting you go.”

  Chelsea folded her arms, feeling her defensive walls return. “Even if I forgive you for this façade with the media, why didn’t you tell me about the vasectomy? Now I don’t know what to think or feel, it’s just…a mess. I had enough of deceit from Ryan.”

  She turned away from him and ran up the stairs, hearing Dean call out for her. His voice pulled at her and she resisted the urge to turn around and throw herself into his arms, feeling his tight embrace, forgetting about the pain he’d caused.

  All it seemed they had together was a raw, heated attraction. He really was a playboy millionaire – out for himself, just as Jenny warned. His staged wife had been right.

  Chelsea blinked back hot tears. She entered her room, hoping Dean wouldn’t follow her. It was over. All the moments they’d been in each other’s arms, the passionate kisses, how alive he’d made her feel. It all ended the moment she saw Dean and known he lied.

  She gathered her bags and went to the nightstand, grabbing her cell phone. She pressed the button to turn it on and as the screen came to life, she called the one person who could drive out to Spring Lake at this time of night.

  “Ryan,” she greeted him. “I need you to come out to Spring Lake-”

  “You’re with the millionaire,” he cut in, and she recognized the jealousy in his voice. If this was any other time, she would’ve smiled. “Saw you in the paper. What do you need me for?”

  “I’m not dating Dean,” she said firmly. “It was a lie. I need a ride back to Newark. Do you know this address?”

  “I’ll find my way there. I can bring the papers for you to sign. My girlfriend Nicola will be coming along too, if you don’t mind.”

  Chelsea swallowed. So Ryan had moved on already. She suspected he had the moment he requested her to sign the divorce papers. The wave of pain that followed reminded her harshly that her own relationship with Dean failed. Her marriage with Ryan meant nothing – all she wanted was Dean.

  But his deceit cut her deeply to the point where she couldn’t feel anything for him. She’d trusted him, hoped for something more. Now she understood his words when he warned her. He was warning her against himself, and what he did.

  “Thanks Ryan. See you soon.”

  She hung up and pocketed the phone. As Chelsea turned towards the door, she almost expected Dean to be standing there, his gentle eyes focused on her. Once, his concern for her made him come to her room without knocking. It annoyed her, but now it was the one hope she clung to, to have him there, waiting for her. But his absence showed he wouldn’t even fight for their relationship.

  Now she was moving out, and moving on. The house in Newark wouldn’t be ready for her, but there was enough money in her account to stay at a motel for a few days.

  Chelsea swallowed painfully and wiped at her eyes. She took a deep breath and headed downstairs. Dean was standing at the front door, pain visible in his eyes.

  “You can’t move out now.”

  “I’ve organized for someone to pick me up.”

  “I’m not letting you leave. I’m not giving up.”

  She stared at him, trying to hold back the intense pull towards him, the urge to raise her voice in frustration. She kept her voice steady. “Why? I would’ve gone weeks ago if you didn’t extended my vacation. Everything that happened between us, it was all a lie. You were using me when you knew I wanted to be with you.”

  Dean reached towards her, and Chelsea’s gaze lowered to his toned arms, the fading tan on his skin. She tentatively took a step back, putting distance between them. Any touch from him would cause her to lose her resolve, the protective wall she’d erected around herself.

  “How can I set this right?” he asked. “I’ll do anything for you, Chelsea. I made a mistake, many mistakes. But I still want you in my life.”

  Chelsea swallowed, part of her wanting to accept his words. But she couldn’t give into him, not now. For once, it was easy to resist.

  “For sex, I know,” she corrected him, her voice wavering. “That’s the only relationship we had.”

  She pulled open the front door, feeling the cold air hit her face. Chelsea blinked against it, then felt Dean’s hand close around her arm. A tentative touch, as if he were afraid she would pull away. It heated her skin and she turned to face him, her heart aching to see him looking at her in that way.

  “It was more than that,” Dean confessed. “I told you I care about you, and I never wanted to hurt you. I…”

  Chelsea glanced towards the alcohol sitting on the table. She longed to fall into his arms, to believe that the hope they could be together was alive. But when he left to the grocery store, she knew if he wanted to be with her, he would’ve put up a fight and insisted for her to stay. Now she was returning to Newark, and Dean was letting her go.

  She met his gaze.

  “Then give me a reason to stay.”

  Dean’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth. But said nothing. Chelsea stared, waiting, almost silently begging for him to explain the feeling burning within her, the feeling she knew he had to feel too. Love. She’d been too afraid to acknowledge it, worrying that if she did, it would fade. It was part of her, Dean felt like another part of her.

  She couldn’t be without him. But at this moment, she
couldn’t be with him. Unless he told her the truth.

  His hesitation showed enough. Dean couldn’t admit it. Pain sluiced through her as Chelsea stared into his eyes, noticing the uncertainty on his face. And she was drawn to him, wanting to ease how both of them were feeling, to heal what was happening between them if only for a moment.

  Chelsea stepped close to him, immediately feeling all of her attention going to his broad chest. The memory of how firm his muscles felt, the touch of his skin against hers. She tilted her head up to him, wanting to feel his kiss one last time. To make one more memory before it all ended.

  Dean obliged, lowering his mouth until it was inches from hers. His lips lightly touched hers in a brief, teasing kiss. Chelsea felt all of her senses reigniting, and almost forgot that she was halfway out the door. All she wanted was to be back in his arms, to be his.

  Then he stepped away, and the feeling dissipated painfully. The taste of his warm kiss was still on her lips. Chelsea warily met Dean’s eyes and noticed the firm line of his mouth, the hard gleam in his eyes. He’d accepted she was moving on.

  Chelsea swallowed, struggling to come to terms with what was happening. He’d lied, and she tried to forgive him but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to say she loved him, but the moment had passed. To say it now would make it sound hollow.

  She closed her eyes briefly, willing it all to pass.

  But when she opened them, he was still there, and it was still over.

  “Goodbye, Dean,” she said finally. And as a small comfort, she added, “I had to move out eventually.”

  “I know. I, uh, have something for you. A gift.”

  Chelsea quirked an eyebrow. Dean withdrew a Visa from his pocket and held it out for her. She stared at it in disbelief.

  “There’s a few thousand on it,” he explained. “Enough to help you out. I want to.”

  She raised her head and shot him a disapproving glare.

  “Dean, I don’t want money!”

  All I want is you. Chelsea bit her lip and stepped out onto the patio. Dean hastily pocketed it with an unreadable expression on his face.

  Ryan would be driving as fast as the speed limit would allow, knowing him. But it would be close to an hour before he arrived. Chelsea turned back to face Dean, feeling the cool wind tearing at her clothes, sending her hair spiraling around her face.

  “It’ll be about an hour before whoever you called gets here,” Dean pointed out.

  Chelsea looked into his eyes, seeing the regret and guilt he felt. But the passion was still there, the burning attraction which could never fade. No matter how angry she felt, with one look from him, Dean was all she needed.

  And in that moment, she couldn’t leave the patio and walk into the night away from the man she loved. He was leaning against the doorjamb, waiting for her. Chelsea knew what he wanted, what she couldn’t deny. She closed the gap between them, feeling the heat of his body against the coldness that awaited her.

  Dean’s hands grasped her cheeks, pulling her mouth onto his with a searing kiss that made her lose her hold on the bags. They fell onto the patio as Chelsea stumbled inside, returning his kiss with a ferocity in knowing it was their last moment together. His hands slid down her neck, his fingers trailing across her skin, alighting her desire for him.

  He broke their kiss to peel off his shirt, brandishing his bare chest. Chelsea stared, her breath catching in her throat. He was everything she’d desired, and the memory of their love making returned. Only this time, it was passionate and desperate.

  His lips were on hers again, his hands sliding the dress off her body. Behind her, a gust of wind tore through the open door, chilling her skin and intensifying Dean’s touch. He kissed her again, and leaned back to close the door with the back of his foot.

  Chelsea breathed against his lips, his tongue expertly clashing against hers, every gentle movement burning into her mind. A moment, a memory she never wanted to forget. Then his fingers were unclipping her bra, and that fell to the floor along with her panties. Chelsea tore away from his heated kiss, breathing heavily as she observed the look in Dean’s eyes, his furrowed brow as he studied her face. Then he gently touched his nose to hers in a gesture that pulled at her heart, at everything within her that longed to be with him.

  She’d fallen for Dean Westley. The notorious playboy millionaire. And she knew deep down, that she acknowledged that feeling days ago. And in his eyes, she could see it reflected back at her. He cared for her, in his own way. His actions showed that he loved her. Each kiss only deepened her feelings. Actions speak louder than words, Chelsea told herself. But is it enough for me? He’s not the only one who has to change.

  He undid his pants before she could stop him. Not that she wanted to, but this was over, the last chance they had together. She’d made it final, and Dean didn’t object. Chelsea stared at him, wanting to take back everything she said, even though she couldn’t respect him for lying.

  Then his kiss drowned any doubts away, and she was swept up in the passion she felt in his touch.

  Dean’s hands slid down her bare thighs, and then cupped the mounds of her ass as he lifted her up onto him. Feeling his hard erection against her wetness, Chelsea gasped. He carried her to the couch. She draped her arms around his neck and pulled away to look at him.

  He lay her down on the couch, the cool leather sending tingles across her skin. Dean’s lips moved down her chest, dampening her stomach, then up to her breasts. He took each nipple in his mouth, sucking slowly, teasing her the way he knew how to.

  Then he released her.

  His clothes were gone, discarded onto the floor as Chelsea began stripping. Dean watched every movement, his eyes wide with fascination. She bared her body before him, and he smiled.

  “I’ll never forget you,” he promised.

  Chelsea swallowed painfully, not wanting to distract herself with painful thoughts and memories.

  “I’m only doing this because it’s the last time,” she admitted. The words hung in the air as Dean lowered his gaze, trailing it down her body.

  “And I’m doing this because I want you,” he breathed. His lips met hers and she was swept away in the sensation of his heated skin against hers, the warmth of his body intensifying her need for him, and the love which burned within.

  Their passionate kissing subsided, and became gentle, almost hesitant. Chelsea pulled away and opened her eyes to stare into his.

  “Chelsea…”

  His voice sent a tremor through her body. She felt an intense pulsing between her thighs. This wasn’t Dean as the arrogant millionaire he once was. There was vulnerability in his eyes, and Chelsea didn’t want to hold back from him.

  “No more talking,” she whispered.

  Dean slid into her with ease, and their bodies moved in a gentle, heartbreaking rhythm. The last moment they had together and he was making love to her so passionately. Chelsea’s breathing hastened as her orgasm drew near. She clung to Dean, her fingers digging into his back as the pleasure hit her and she became lost in it.

  She gasped and shuddered, then Dean’s touch brought her back to him. He ran his fingers across her cheek, brushing a stray part of hair behind her ear.

  “I’ll miss you,” Chelsea breathed.

  Dean kissed her once more.

  “Don’t.”

  And with that, he swung off her and went to gather his clothes. Chelsea sat up against the couch, staring at his firm, taut body. Her heart pounded against her chest, her stomach sinking as she realized what he meant. How can I not miss him?

  Dean dressed himself, then returned to her with her clothes in his arms. There was nothing more to be said as Chelsea pulled on her dress. Dean’s actions, the way he’d made love to her, showed his true feelings. She wasn’t blind to that. But she wanted to hear him say those three words she needed to hear. The only words that would allow her to stay.

  This hadn’t changed anything, and her heart felt heavy.

  She pulled on her
boots and stood, her legs shaking from the force of the orgasm he’d given her. Dean gave her a gentle smile, but she couldn’t read the expression on his face, nor did she recognize the glimmer in his eyes.

  Chelsea walked to the door, her heart heavy with the realization that it was over. She felt Dean come up behind her, but he didn’t attempt to pull her into his arms again. He’d shown her how he felt, and she’d given as greatly as he gave. But it wasn’t enough.

  Chelsea turned to look at him, a brief pain stabbing through her as she looked upon his face.

  “Thank you for letting me stay here,” she managed to say. After all, that was what they’d arranged to do. She never intended on falling for him, or allowing herself to give into the pleasure they’d shared together.

  Her skin still tingled from the sex on the couch, and Chelsea glanced back at the living room as if it were a final reminder of everything she was about to lose.

  “My pleasure,” he responded with a smile. Chelsea didn’t look away until a car pulled up behind her, and she heard the sound of the horn blaring loudly.

  She turned away from Dean, trying to hold back the tears she wouldn’t allow to fall. Chelsea grasped the bags on the patio, leveling the weight in her grip, and walked over to the gray sedan. Ryan opened the passenger door, motioning for her to dump her bags in the front.

  She did so, and slumped into the front seat, noticing Nicola at the back. An attractive woman with light blonde hair and olive skin. Chelsea didn’t think much of her, or of anything that was happening at that moment.

  She glanced back at Dean, watching as he leaned against the doorjamb like he always did. Then he was gone.

  When they were halfway to Newark, Ryan pulled out the divorce papers. Chelsea glanced at the blank expression on his face. He couldn’t care less about what happened between her and Dean. And she didn’t care about seeing him again, or what was happening now. She signed without hesitation.

  “If you need somewhere to stay,” Nicola offered. “we have a sofa bed you can sleep on.”