Taste Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Temptation Series Book 3)

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Taste Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Temptation Series Book 3) Page 12

by Kally Ash


  When they rounded back to the main reception area, John saw their bags were parked off to the side, awaiting their arrival.

  “As I mentioned on the phone, Evangeline, you have one night’s accommodations and dinner included in your tour.” Turning her body slightly, she addressed John too. “We hope that you consider us as the venue for your dream wedding.”

  Natasha only nodded but John picked up the slack. “I believe we can say that this is the venue.” He wrapped his arm around Natasha’s waist and pulled her in close, dropping a kiss onto the side of her neck. “When will you need the deposit?”

  Natalie’s face lit up like she’d won the lottery. She probably got a healthy bonus for every couple who signed up. “Since the wedding date you want is only five weeks away, I suggest you pay the twenty percent deposit by the end of the coming week. Will that be manageable?”

  “Absolutely,” Natasha said, finally speaking. “Absolutely.”

  “Fantastic!” Natalie beamed. Sticking out her hand, she shook Natasha’s hand first, then John’s. “It was a real pleasure to meet you both. You know, I meet a lot of couples and I can tell that you guys are meant for each other.” She grinned. “I’ll be in touch with you by the end of the week.”

  She wandered off, leaving them alone.

  “I guess we check in?” he said, not letting Natasha run, especially after Natalie’s comment. Together they walked to the reception desk, looking every bit the couple they were playing.

  “Hello, and welcome to Ventana, Big Sur. How are you both today?” the man behind the desk said, looking like he fit better in a Crest commercial than behind a reception desk.

  “We’re fine,” John said. “We just need to check in.”

  “Wonderful. We are so happy to have you here. What name is your reservation under?”

  Wow, this guy is peppy. “Webster.”

  The guy got typing, his fingers flying over the keys. “I have a reservation under the name Evangeline,” he announced with a big smile.

  “That’s the one.”

  “Great. Now, the room has already been paid for. All we need is a credit card for incidentals.”

  John pulled out his wallet and placed his card down. “Could you remind us again of where our dinner reservation is for tonight?”

  The man slid his card over the granite counter separating them and smiled. “Of course. Let me run this through our machine and then I’ll look that up for you.”

  After a few minutes, he said, “We have you at the Sur House tonight for dinner. It has amazing views of the Pacific.”

  “What time?”

  “Seven PM, sir.”

  “Thank you,” John replied, taking back his card. They were given their room key, along with a map, then they were off. Turning, their bags were already gone.

  “They’re already on the way to your room, Mr. Jenkins. Do enjoy your stay here with us.”

  “I wonder how much this is costing them,” Natasha said softly.

  “I don’t know, but it’s a stunning location.”

  “Do you know where we’re going?”

  John looked down at the map, trying to orient himself. “Yeah, this way,” he told her, leading them out of the reception area and walking down one of the paths that had been carved out of the forest. When they eventually found their room, John just took a moment to drink it all in. The whole space was paneled in rich, warm wood, a fire crackling in the stone hearth. The bed was a modern four-poster with crisp white linens and a dark throw on the foot of the bed.

  A small table was set beside the window, overlooking a private deck. John went to stare out the window, eyeing the hammock that was suspended between two beams and wondering if he could get Natasha naked on there. Adjacent to the table, there was a doorway into the bathroom. With double basins and a stone shower stall, he had a feeling they wouldn’t make it to dinner. He spun around and looked at the soaker tub, then up at Natasha who was now standing in the doorway.

  “This is spectacular.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he replied. Jesus, she looked beautiful standing there. Walking toward her, she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes. He felt like they’d pushed past one of her barriers when they were in the car and he was going to explore it more.

  Wrapping one hand behind her neck and another around her waist, he brought her close, pulling her into the line of his body. She gasped when she felt he was already hard for her and he closed the distance between their mouths. The kiss was blistering, scorching the blood in his veins. Her arms wrapped around his neck, dragging him even closer. Trailing his mouth down her neck, she moaned when he sucked and then nibbled the join between her shoulder and neck.

  Returning his mouth to hers, he licked inside, demanding so much more than she was willing to give him right now. He didn’t care though. He’d beg for her scraps.

  She was the one who broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together. “I need you again,” she whispered.

  “You have me,” he replied. He started untucking her blouse, pulling the tails from the top of her skinny jeans. His hands shook as he unbuttoned her shirt, slowly pulling the sides apart. Her breasts were held by delicate lace, the white cups revealing tantalizing hints of her hard, pink nipples.

  “This week without seeing you nearly killed me,” he admitted, kissing her on the collarbone, swiping his tongue over her skin. Her hands ran through his hair, holding him in position. He moved lower and lower until he found what he wanted, sucking and nibbling at her breasts through the lace.

  When she gasped, he picked her up and took her into the bedroom, laying her out on the bed. Sliding the button from the waistband of her jeans, he lowered the zipper, then slid the fabric from her smooth long legs. He left her panties in place; he had plans for them.

  Twenty-Two

  Natasha brushed out her hair before blow drying it. She still couldn’t believe the opulence of the resort and she’d grown up with wealth. Placing the dryer down, she touched the slightly red skin on her neck, the marks left by John during the last however many hours of sex.

  Amazing sex.

  Mind-blowing sex.

  Sex where she had so many orgasms, she lost count.

  After they were both wrung out and John was spent, she’d filled up the gigantic tub and soaked for a while.

  There was something about being surrounded by hot water and silence that made everything clearer. This is what she knew: John was becoming someone she didn’t want to walk away from, but she knew she inevitably would have to. They lived in different cities, although the same could be said about Vee and Beau and they were getting married in five weeks.

  Refocusing on her reflection, she saw John wander into the bathroom, naked and hard. She spun around, warding him off with her hairbrush.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned. When he only smiled, she said, “No,” as firmly as she could. Sex led to a rabbit hole with them and they didn’t have time to find their way out of it.

  He cupped himself, his breath hissing from between his teeth. “I’d rather this be your hand.”

  She bit her lip to stifle the groan, her eyes locked on his erection. She thought she would’ve had her fill of him by now. If he were any other guy, she would have walked away, but there was a connection between them that was hard to ignore.

  “Are you just going to stand there and watch?” he asked with a cocky smile, running his palm up and down his shaft.

  She let her hand drift down her collarbones and between her breasts. She was dressed in one of the white robes that had been left in the closet, the lapels crisscrossing her chest. As her hand moved down, the lapels fell open and John’s hungry gaze followed her movement.

  Skimming lower, she reached between the folds and found her sex. John groaned.

  “I need to see you,” he rasped. “Sit on the countertop and let me see you touching yourself.”

  Heat flooded her body, but she did as he asked, lifting herself onto the granite and
settling back against the mirror. The faucet was digging into her spine, but she didn’t care. Letting her thighs fall open, she pushed the white terry cloth out of the way and exposed her wet pussy to him.

  He licked his lips, his pace intensifying when she began to stroke herself. Her whole body felt like it was electrified. Everything was razor-sharp; the sight of John fisting his erection, stroking it. The smell of the soap that she’d used in the bath. The sound of their desperate panting echoing off the natural stone that surrounded them.

  “Fuck it, I’m close,” he ground out, looking up at her from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. Sweat was beading on his brow, the strain of him trying to hold back making the veins on his neck stand out. His stomach muscles flexed and relaxed with each inhale and exhale, his thigh muscles trembling.

  “Tell me you’re close, baby,” he said in a low growl.

  She arched her back. “I’m close... Fuck, I’m coming.” Natasha forced herself to keep her eyes on John. She worked herself past the point of no return, her whole body shaking with pleasure. Just as she was about to shut her eyes and give in to the ecstasy rolling through her, she just hung on for the ride. John groaned long and low, coming all over his hand and stomach, some landing on the floor at his feet.

  As the thrill receded, she stared at him and wondered how she was going to survive when he wasn’t there anymore.

  “Tasha? Tasha?”

  Her eyes snapped to his face.

  “Wherever you are in your head, don’t go there. Stay here with me.”

  She nodded, closing her legs and covering herself once more. She slid from the countertop. “We should get ready; otherwise, we’ll miss our reservation.”

  “Sure. Let me get cleaned up.”

  As she walked past him, he stopped her. “Are we okay?” He looked away. “Was that okay?”

  “It was amazing,” she whispered. Getting onto her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We need to get ready though.”

  In the bedroom, she got dressed quickly, then went back into the bathroom to finish drying her hair. John shuffled out when she came in, and when she was finished, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed dressed in dark jeans, a pale blue button-down, and a sports jacket that spread across his broad shoulders.

  “You look beautiful,” he told her, standing up and kissing her on the mouth. “Just beautiful.”

  She actually blushed and considered the merits of kicking herself in the ass for acting like such a woman.

  Offering her his arm, he asked, “Are you ready to go?”

  “Sure.”

  Less than ten minutes later, they arrived at the Sur House restaurant. The interior was decorated in the same wood paneling as their room, square tables dotted through the room between brown leather-backed chairs. Through a set of doors, there was a large deck with even more tables. Her eyes went to the bar where there were walls of liquor and a hostess standing behind a podium.

  “Good evening and welcome to Sur House. Do you have a reservation this evening?”

  “Yes,” John said. “Under Webster.”

  She took a moment to find their reservation, then they were being led to their table. Through the doors, they stepped out onto the deck that was lit by old-fashioned-looking lanterns. Portable heaters were spaced out evenly, warding off the chill. Their hostess stopped at a table right by the railing of the balcony.

  “Would you like some water for the table?”

  “Thank you,” Natasha said, taking her seat. She looked out at the dark ocean and thought about how her parents’ view had nothing on this place.

  “You look lost,” John said.

  She looked at him and smiled, suddenly feeling candid. “I feel lost.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “Not really, no.”

  A bottle of water was placed on their table by another impeccably dressed server.

  “Can I offer you something else to drink with your meal? Some wine perhaps?”

  Natasha’s first instinct was to order a martini, but she held her tongue. “Water will be fine. Thank you.”

  The woman nodded before directing her attention to John. “And for you, sir?”

  “I think I’ll be fine with water too.”

  “Very good. I’ll let you have a few minutes to browse the menu.”

  “I’ve got to say, I’m a little surprised,” John told her.

  She looked at him over the top of her menu. “At what?”

  “You not drinking tonight.”

  “I just don’t feel like it tonight.”

  “Well, I’m glad.”

  She felt her brows rise. “You are?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I like that the barrier disappears when you’re drinking, but I also like this version of you.”

  “What version is that?” She asked the question carefully, her eyes shifting over the descriptions of the food to avoid looking at him.

  “The introspective you. The one who opens up to me.”

  “I opened up to you when I was drunk too.”

  “Yes, but you still clammed up on me. I think clear-headed is the way to go.”

  She took a sip of her water. “It sounds like you’re going to pump me for information.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  Natasha could feel her steel walls sliding into place, but she forced herself to relax. John had never done anything with the information she’d given him. He never told Vee about the orphanage or her involvement in it, either. She knew she could trust him.

  “What else do you want to know about me?” she asked carefully. It felt like she was asking for a loaded gun to be pressed to her temple.

  “Everything.” He smiled. “I want to know everything about you. What was your childhood like?”

  Lonely. “Fine.” He arched a brow at her and she sighed. “Okay, it wasn’t fine. It was hard.”

  “In what way?”

  She ran her finger over the white napkin in her lap. “Remember when I said my father doesn’t seem to be proud of me no matter what I do? Well, try living with that knowledge since birth. Right from the start, I wasn’t what my father wanted. He wanted a firstborn son—not a daughter. He wanted someone who could look up to him and follow him into the family business.”

  He frowned. “But you did do that. You’re a lawyer. You’re successful.”

  Shaking her head slowly, she said, “I’m not successful enough.”

  “Bull—”

  She turned to see a server heading their way. “Good evening, my name’s Patrick and I’ll be your server today. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

  “Not yet,” she said.

  “Patrick,” John said. “Would you mind giving us about ten minutes? Thanks.” When they were left alone once more, he turned his attention back to her. “As I was saying, that’s bullshit. You are fantastic at your job.”

  She looked at him and bit her lip. “What about the promotion to partner? I fucking froze on that one.”

  “You can unfreeze.” Reaching across the table, he took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles over and over again. “You decide what your future is—not your father or your mother. You. This is your life and you have to be happy with it.”

  “I don’t know what’s going to make me happy. I thought it would be law.”

  “You’re also allowed to change your mind. I mean, you changed your mind about me, didn’t you?”

  Begrudgingly, she said, “You are turning out to be less of an asshole than I thought.”

  “I’ll take that.” He grinned. Letting go of her hand, he picked up his menu. “Now, we’d better pick what we’re going to eat before Patrick has an aneurism.”

  As she looked over the menu, she thought about the question he asked her a week ago when she was drowning her sorrows in a martini glass. What do you want? Nobody had asked her that before—not when it counted in any case. Her father had assumed she wanted to go into law, and she did, but it looke
d as if her reasons had changed.

  What do you want?

  “I’m scared,” she whispered and in her periphery she saw John’s head jerk up.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I’m scared to admit what I want. My heart isn’t in law anymore.” She frowned. “If it really ever was.”

  John lowered his menu, giving her his full attention.

  Deep breath in and out.

  “I declined the offer of partnership.”

  To his credit, John’s face didn’t change. He simply reached out and touched her hand again, giving her a strength she didn’t know she needed.

  “When I went back to work on Wednesday, I spoke to my boss. I told him I was honored to be considered as a partner, but that the passion was gone.”

  “And what did he say to that?”

  She remembered the look on Mr. King’s face as she told him. She was braced for disappointment, but all she got was the kind of understanding that should’ve come from her father.

  “He said he knew that something had changed... and he was right because it’s all different now.”

  John nodded. “You’re different now.”

  She looked down at his thumb brushing against her skin. “Although I couldn’t say how or why.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “How do you think you’d feel if you couldn’t go to the orphanage anymore?”

  She felt the frown pull at her brow. “I’d hate it. I love going there.”

  “Now tell me how you feel about turning down the promotion and by extension, law.”

  “Relieved,” she answered honestly because, when she was with John, she could tell him exactly how she was feeling, what she was thinking. She laughed. “I’m relieved.”

  “I think I know what you should be doing with your life.”

  She began shaking her head. “I can’t. I... I’d lose everything.”

  “You mean like those kids have lost everything?” he countered, but he wasn’t smug; he was just stating a fact.

 

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