by Christa Wick
Tempted Beyond Return
Christa Wick
C.M. Wick
Contents
Book Description
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
Epilogue
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Also by Christa Wick
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by Christa Wick
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, this book and any portion thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, reverse-engineered, decompiled, transferred, or distributed in any print or electronic form without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Participation in any aspect of piracy of copyrighted materials, inclusive of the downloading and obtainment of this book through non-retail or other unauthorized means, is in actionable violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, media, brands, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and registered trademark owners of all branded names referenced without TM, SM, or (R) symbols due to formatting constraints, and is not claiming ownership of or collaboration with said trademark brands. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.
Published by Evergreen Books Publishing
Copy edits and line edits by GBI Author Services
Proofreading by Rosa Sharon
Cover design by Violet Duke
Previously published as Curve Major (c) 2014 by Christa Wick
Book Description
He was never supposed to get that text.
That dirty, dirty text.
To be fair, I'm actually the dictionary definition of a good girl.
...Except when I'm thinking about him.
And now that he knows how I feel, what I've been hiding from him this entire time, he won't let me hide from it. He certainly won't let me run from it.
The thing is, he's been hiding his feelings from me too.
And his version of dirty? So much better than mine.
The Far Too Tempting Collection
Tempted Beyond Reason (Wake & Lacey)
Tempted Beyond Relief (Wylie & Rhea)
Tempted Beyond Return (Logan & Lily)
Previously published as Curve Major (c) 2014, revised throughout with newly added content and an extended ending.
1
Major Logan Jones opened the front door of his three-bedroom ranch before I landed my first knock. Surprised, I glanced at my watch.
"I'm not late, am I?"
Despite knowing deep down that I was on time, a tremor of nerves ran through me. The Major was very particular about people being punctual. After five plus years of babysitting his son Stevie, I still had a clean record. Working a summer job at a downtown office, however, meant that I had been cutting it close for the last three months.
"No, I heard you pull up." Taking a step back, he opened the door wider and motioned me inside.
I passed him in the hall, my thick hips and the narrow space conspiring to force the excruciatingly brief rub of my body against his. A familiar heat flared along the surface of my skin. My nipples puckered, the sensation triggering an outbreak of goose bumps and wet need.
Continuing down the hall, I rubbed at my arms, hoping my body would behave before the Major noticed his effect on me. Not that he had ever noticed. At twenty-two, I had been babysitting Stevie for over five years. And I had spent practically every day of those five years nursing a mad crush on the Major. And, through all those years, he remained blissfully clueless even when my body's reaction to him kicked into high gear after Mrs. Jones ran off to parts unknown in search of her "true self."
Ugh…Mrs. Jones.
I was pretty certain her true self was some kind of dumb ass space alien because Stevie was the cutest little bug I had ever babysat, and the Major was the sexiest thing on two legs. Logan stood tall and lean, with muscles so big it would take both my hands to circle one of his biceps. Add to that intense fuck-me eyes, finely chiseled features accentuated by the military cut of his dark ash brown hair, and a mouth that looked like it could melt an iceberg, and it was no wonder my entire body snapped to full attention like a platoon of new recruits whenever I was around him. Hell, even when Major was wearing his ACUs, he was hot as sin.
I also loved how protective he was. Not just with Stevie, but with everyone he thought of as his extended family—including me. Since he wasn't overbearing, it was a complete turn on knowing he had my back.
Ready to leave, the Major interrupted my reverie before I had a chance to drift into a middle-of-the-day, full-on wet dream and embarrass myself.
"I'll be home by midnight." He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone and started tapping at the screen. Half a second later my phone buzzed in my purse. "Just sent you another number to call if you have trouble reaching me. Building I'll be at is a bit of a black hole for signal reception."
"Okay." I watched him move through the living room to retrieve his gear. Another shiver ran across my skin when he bent over to grab his backpack.
"No visitors," he said, straightening to slide the bag’s strap over his shoulder.
Pulled back to reality once more, I nodded. It was the same discussion every visit. He meant "no boys." Even if it was possible for me to be interested in someone other than Logan, I would never recklessly expose Stevie to anyone—male or female—that the Major hadn’t vetted.
"Make sure Stevie is in bed by nine."
"Yes, Major."
I wondered what I was going to do with myself after nine. The hours between Stevie going to bed and the Major returning home often strained my self control. Sometimes I still had reading for school to do—if I could stay focused. But it was summer, so I had spent a lot of time just pacing or doing little things to help the house shine. When all else failed, I tried to exorcise my dirty thoughts by typing them into my note app. It was like “Fifty Shades of Major” without the ball gag and spanking paddle.
The one thing I wanted to avoid was a text from my best friend Emy. Put us in a room together and we are angels. Put us in the cloud with our imaginations typing at full speed and humanity was doomed.
Reaching the front door with me following on his heels like a devoted puppy, he gave me one of those looks that would have been stern if his pale blue gaze didn't glitter like frosted diamonds.
"Call me Logan, not Major, not Mr. Jones. Just Logan,” he ordered. "Or I'll go back to calling you Lilliput."
I crinkled my nose at him and faintly nodded but didn't say anything. I couldn't bring myself to call him Logan other than in my head. I was certain I would make a fool of myself if I did. His name would eventually issue from my lips all breathless and shaking. And his threat was no good because I only half minded him calling me Lil
liput. It made me feel special, even if it meant he still thought of me as the seventeen-year-old girl he first hired and not an adult woman on the cusp of graduating from college.
After a few more seconds of my only nodding, he lifted a brow and offered an exasperated sigh. Reaching out, he wrapped a warm hand around my shoulder and lightly squeezed. It was the first intentional contact by him that I could remember in months. Heat and fierce need fanned through me from head-to-toe
"Just promise me you'll work on using my name and not my rank, Lily."
Leaning into his touch, I smiled.
"Of course, Major."
2
With the Major gone, I went into Stevie's room to see what he wanted for dinner. His gaze went adorably evil as the right side of his face crept upward in a grin.
"Shepherd's Pie!"
"Get serious, little man, I don't even know what that is." Last time he had requested haggis. Then we Googled it and he immediately reconsidered and asked for meatloaf. This time, I negotiated him down to spaghetti with asparagus tips.
After five years, we had a routine, one that had grown a little cozier after his mom took off. Before, he would want to play Xbox or get on the computer in the front room. After she left, he wanted to sit on the couch and watch movies with me. This visit, he selected home videos I had never seen before.
He was missing his mom and it broke my heart more than a little, so I agreed. When eight rolled around, I sent him to his bedroom to give it a quick clean, then brush his teeth before changing into his Avenger pajamas.
Alone in the front room, I went back through the DVD, stopping each time the Major was alone on screen. When I got to the part where he had just lost a water balloon fight to Stevie, I replayed it frame by frame. The Major wore a t-shirt and running shorts. The fabric was soaked through and clung to his muscled body. With the camera still running, he stripped the tee away, revealing a chiseled eight-pack of abs so shredded they looked photoshopped in.
"Holy moly,” I whispered. "That’s so hot.”
I rubbed a hand against one tingling cheek and promised myself a full viewing after I put Stevie to bed. Hearing the lid on the toy chest slam shut, I called out.
“Brush your teeth!”
A full minute later, water ran in the bathroom sink. I went down the hall and stood just outside the room, supervising as Stevie brushed.
“There, clean!” he announced.
I shook my head. “You only did the top, and only half!”
Entering the bathroom, I put my hands atop his shoulders and gently turned him back to the mirror.
Forming a V with my index and middle finger, I pointed them at my eyes then at his reflection, mimicking what the Major did to warn Stevie that he was watching him. I finished the gesture with a wink and a kiss on the head.
The second time he emerged after a few minutes of thorough brushing, he was minty fresh and pulling his lips wide from cheek to cheek for inspection.
“Looks good,” I chuckled. “Now get your pajamas on.”
Giving him privacy, I went through the kitchen into the laundry room and pulled a load of towels from the dryer to fold. Housework wasn’t part of my job description, but I never minded doing things around the house to help out.
At exactly twenty minutes to nine, I heard the stealthy creak of Stevie’s bedroom door. Smiling, I grabbed the top towel from the pile and pretended I was still folding it.
His shoulder brushed the wall, just as the soft slap of his feet sounded against the bare tile. I kept the towel charade going the entire time, my back to him and my grin hidden.
A hand landed on my hip, tickling me mercilessly.
I tossed the towel up in feigned surprise, though my aim guaranteed it’d land right back on the folded pile, before I turned around with my hands up in surrender.
“Got ya!” he crowed before claiming his reward. “Now you have to read to me.”
I nodded and reached out to ruffle his hair. But as he always did during our bedtime routine, he darted away before I could made contact.
“Catch me first!” Stevie called, his gleeful cackles echoing throughout the house as he zigzagged elaborately down the hall to evade me.
Leaving Stevie quietly snoring at five minutes past nine, I headed over to the kitchen to look through Stevie’s summer reading list, checked off what he had finished and then made a list of books to look for on our next trip to the library.
After that, I looked over the empty dates on their wall calendar and checked our online community page for any end of summer events for kids his age—either something I could take him to or his father could, if the Major’s schedule allowed it. I made note of the ones I knew they’d both enjoy and then finally made my way back to the living room to the family videos I’d yet to put away.
Turning the volume off, I hit play right at the part of the video where Mrs. Logan had zoomed in on the muscled chest and abs of her husband. I didn’t blame her. I’d slow-zoom that masterpiece given half the chance myself.
The Major tried to dance out of view, grabbing a towel and running it over his biceps and chest. Realizing Mrs. Jones had continued filming him, he gave her a sinful grin and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.
For someone with a mad, lustful crush on Logan, the entire thing was like crack for a junkie. By my fourth replay of the video, my breathing was huffing and puffing out of me like I was running the last leg of a marathon.
It was definitely time to put the videos away.
But the effects of seeing Logan’s hot, hard body on loop for the past half hour had taken its toll.
My teeth gnawed at the inside of my bottom lip. Tasting blood, I spun and went into the laundry room, shutting and locking the door.
I shouldn’t, I told myself.
But I was going to.
Meeting my own feverish gaze in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the laundry room door, I knew I was fooling myself. No amount of self-lecturing was going to ease the need slicking up my thighs.
I hopped onto the washing machine and braced a foot against the door on each side of the mirror. Normally, I hated looking at mirrors, especially large ones. I hated it so much that I had raised the mirror in my bathroom at home a foot higher so it only showed my face.
But for what I was about to do, this mirror was going to give me a view I don’t ever get to see.
With my skirt riding around my hips, I watched my reflection as I pulled the gusset of my panties to one side to reveal my waxed pussy. A thin, translucent syrup had leaked from the thick press of my labia to coat the seam. Spreading the swollen folds, I revealed the darker pink of my sex.
Oh, Major, look what you've done. My pussy is soaked and swollen thinking about you.
Sighing over what would never be, I opened the browser on my phone and navigated to my favorite page on my favorite photo sharing site. Telling myself I would just this once rub out a quick climax in the Major’s house to restore my sanity and focus, I thumbed through the posts with one hand while the other stroked my clit.
I glanced at the mirror every few seconds to see how much more cream dripped from me and the lustful blush making the skin on my mound glow a pale rose. Half a dozen posts in, I found the perfect picture. It was a lap shot, the camera looking down as the subject sat with his pants pushed low. The image was hi-res, showing me a strong, tanned hand gripping a deliciously huge cock, its tip dripping from a recent explosion of cum.
I licked my lips, wondered what the Major's skin and cum tasted like.
Looking back and forth between the mirror and the picture, my breathing picked up. My fingers skipped a little faster along my pussy as I imagined my other hand holding the Major's dick instead of my phone.
On the last glance back at the phone, a text message interrupted the image on screen.
What r u doing?
Hovering at the edge of release, I growled. The text was from Emy, another big girl and my absolute best friend except when she inte
rrupted me half a second before I was ready to come.
With any chance of climaxing obliterated, I texted back.
Looking at cock shots online wishing it was the Major's and he was fucking me with it.
Emy really loved to goad me. Her next message was no exception.
Fucking you where?
Spreading my hairless labia, I snapped a picture of my drenched pussy then jumped off the washing machine and opened the door, my arousal wicked dry by the interruption.
Wandering into the kitchen, I typed a reply to go with the picture.
You and I both know he has an open invitation to fuck me any place, any time.
Thumb hovering over the send button, my contacts list came up just as I heard the creak of Stevie’s bedroom door. I hit the command right as I angled my head into the hall and spotted Stevie shuffling out of his bedroom down the hall, the corners of his mouth turned down like he was about to cry.
“Oh, bug,” I called out softly, straightening my clothes and rushing out to him. “Did you have a bad dream?”
He nodded.
“C’mon, I’ll tuck you back in bed,” I murmured gently, steering him into his room.
