Sweet Temptation

by Wendy Higgins

  She throws down her paper, breathing hard, and I suddenly cannot recall a single line of poetry I’ve memorized. All I can think about is touching her. Taking a chance that she might slap the shit out of me, I cup her face, surprised how hot her soft cheek is in my hand.

  But she doesn’t smack my hand or move away. She stares at me, and I stare back.

  This girl.

  I am no match for her.

  “Seriously,” she whispers. “You’re doing that bedroom-eyes thing again.”

  Bloody right I am.

  All at once we’re both crossing the space, crashing in a blaze of lips, ready and seeking, needing and wanting. God, it’s that epic feeling again. Like I will die if we can’t devour each other and become one. I’m awash in her pear and freesia scent. It tantalizes my every sense.

  Our mouths embrace. I’m losing myself, just as I did the other night, and I can’t stop it from happening. This is like no lust I’ve ever experienced. It is all-consuming the way her tongue licks at mine, greeting, teasing, inviting me in further. And so I go.

  She kicks her school things to the floor, and I know this is happening.

  I must have more of her.

  My mouth pulls away, landing on the slight saltiness of her neck. The moan she lets out swells inside my ears and I am flipping her, cradled so perfectly by her legs, ready to own her. There’s hunger in her dark eyes as she feels me pressing on all the tender places where no other bloke has ever been. She’s gasping and making the sexiest little noises.

  I’m surprised when Anna starts to pull my shirt up, but I quickly help, reaching over my head, grabbing it and yanking it off. I go for the top button on her shirt, and when she doesn’t stop me I hurry through them, desperate to see and feel as much of this girl as I can. Her shirt and undershirt are finally off in a flick of arms. I’m all but growling as my chest and stomach touch hers, hot and smooth, and our mouths meet once more. I want to savor every moment. She feels incredible underneath me, skin to skin.

  The feel of her hands grasping at me—knowing she wants me as I want her—is incredible. I am going to take my time with her, and it’s going to take all night.

  And then I remember with a pang of disappointment. “What time will Patti be calling?”

  “Not for an hour,” she whispers.

  Far too soon. “That simply is not going to be enough time.” I don’t want any distractions, but I’ll take what time I can get. I flip us again so she’s on top and I have better access to remove her clothing. I’m leaning partly against the pillows and headboard, and Anna sits across my lap. She takes my lead so perfectly on everything, letting me be in control. Trusting me and going with it.

  I have to be careful on this next part because she freaked last time I went near her chest. I will not go for the grab. I concentrate on her shoulders, kissing the smooth skin, and working her bra straps down. Going slow is driving me mad. I want her naked ten minutes ago. I can’t remember the last time I’ve gone this long or wanted something more.

  I feel for the back of her strap but then decide to leave her bra on. As much as I want her completely naked, I’ve known since the night we met that she’s self-conscious of her chest size. Completely ridiculous, of course. I’ll leave that discovery for later.

  When Anna scoots down on me and curls her hips against mine, I go momentarily blind with lust. My control is slipping much faster than normal. Time to meet the arse I’ve been desperately dreaming about.

  One hand goes around her back and I lift my hips, turning us over so she’s lying on her back again. I move down, kissing a path along her breastbone, down to the soft mound at the top of her bra. As if begging me not to stop, Anna’s hands push into my hair.

  Ah, God, this is unbelievable. At every moment I keep expecting her to stop me, but she never does. I move down her stomach to her gorgeous belly button, kissing and tasting every inch. When I get to her shorts I look up and her eyes are shut. Her whole body is fluid, squirming and ready for me.

  Take her.

  But . . .

  Does she know what she’s doing? She mightn’t be thinking clearly. . . .

  Doesn’t matter.

  My body is screaming. I’m so close. This is what I’ve wanted. I won’t stop now.

  With one flick, the button of her shorts is undone. My hands slide under her back and she arches for me. I love the responsiveness of her body, so completely in tune with mine. I lick the skin I’ve just exposed and she sucks in a massive breath.

  This is nothing, I want to tell her. Wait until you feel what’s next.

  She has no idea what she’s in for, and though it’s all good things in my mind, I feel a sudden unwelcome pang of guilt just as I’m about to unzip her shorts. My defenses go up. I’ve no reason to feel guilty. I warned her. She knows who I am and what I’m after. So why do I feel the need to warn her again?

  “My parents were soul mates in heaven,” she’d told me. She’d been created in love by an angel and a demon who were separated because of others’ lies and deceit. She is nothing like me. She gives all her money away to needy strangers, and has a heart for the downtrodden.

  Who cares? Keep going, you bloody fool, before she changes her mind!

  I never let myself think of how the girl will feel afterward while I’m working, but this doesn’t feel like a job. I don’t want it to be a job. I shove my inner work voice aside and give her one last warning.

  “Now would be the time to stop me, luv. You’re about to be undressed, and trust me when I say it will be too late after that.”

  She’s going to stop me now. I know it, and I feel a sense of relief. I kiss her stomach one last time while I can, so grateful to be this close to her for these fleeting moments.

  And then she says in a sultry voice, “No, Kai. Don’t stop.”

  I freeze. She’s giving permission.

  Don’t stop.

  I have to kiss the mouth that said those words. When I do, our bodies move together, and she’s clinging to me, rocking me from the inside out. And though there’s clothing between us, it’s the most sensual and satisfying thing I’ve ever experienced.

  My chest swells with an abundance of that feeling only Anna can give me. It overpowers the beast inside me with its luminescence. A single thought echoes through my mind: it’s time to stop. I don’t even understand why. Clearly, Anna is ready. She has told me as much, and her body is screaming it, rubbing against me in a way that makes me want to explode.

  It’s time to stop.

  “We . . . ,” I mumble. “Baby, I . . . we have to . . .” Stop.

  I am baffled by this thought. It’s as if it’s coming from a greater power outside me. With sudden clarity I know Anna will regret this spontaneous decision to sleep with me, for reasons I can’t begin to understand, but I know. Something will not be right if we do this. The sureness of it is enough to scare the shite out of me.

  I shake my head. My entire body goes stiff and I try to lift myself, but Anna has ahold of me, and she’s whimpering for more like a needy little vixen.

  I have to momentarily close my eyes against the sight of her.

  “We can’t,” I whisper.

  “Kai?” The sound of the surprise and hurt in her voice kills me. I want to give her what she wants—what we both want.

  It’s time to stop.

  I want so badly to ignore this stupid fucking feeling of intuition, or whatever the hell it is, and take this girl with every ounce of strength in my body, but I don’t dare. I’ve never had a feeling this strong and clear. When I attempt to move off her, she tightens her hold around my waist. Her back arches underneath me again, lifting her hips to mine in the most agonizing way. I am about to lose all control.

  “Damn it, Ann, please! Don’t. Move.”

  Our gazes collide, and we’re both panting with unsated need. She’s gorgeous and so bloody hot for me that I have to look away.

  And move. Quickly. I get my arse off the bed, and immediately that
overpowering sense of intuition leaves me, and it’s just me and the beast. Scorching pain racks me from thigh to stomach, and my head gives a giant throb. I grab my hair, pacing—I can’t stay still. What have I done to myself? It feels as if I might die. I try to shake away the excruciating headache that makes me barely able to open my eyes, but it’s no use.

  “You don’t want me.” Anna’s small voice shoots straight through my ears and down to my core, making me groan with animalistic longing. Her eyes water and she looks lost.

  Can she not see how I want to ravish her like the devil I am? I like to think of the beast and myself as separate entities, but I’m fooling myself. We are one and the same. Right now I want to give in to my darkest urges, throwing caution and gentleness aside, shredding every scrap of cloth between us, and overpowering her body with mine to see how loud her sweet voice can get.

  “Don’t do that,” I struggle to say. “That was the single most difficult thing I’ve done in my entire life.”

  I stand, trying to clear my head.

  “I don’t understand, then,” she whispers.

  No, no she doesn’t. And neither do I.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? And don’t think for a second I don’t want you—” I push my knuckles against my pounding forehead. “But it shouldn’t be like this.”

  “Like what?” she asks.

  Everything is wrong. I don’t even know how to explain it. I’m so bloody frustrated. Why is she asking me these questions? Is she blind to the kind of person she is, and the kind I am? None of this is good enough for her.

  “Uncommitted,” I say. “In a hotel room.”

  “Then commit.” Her voice is resolute. As if it’s that simple.

  I throw my arms out, at a loss. “I can’t!” That is not my life, and will never be. She can try to slum it with me all she wants, and fool herself into thinking it’s okay, but I know the difference between us. Eventually, she will, as well.

  “I’m not taking your virginity,” I tell her. “You would regret it.”

  I lean my forehead against the wall, but the pain in my gut is too powerful to stand. I turn and slide to the floor, elbows on my knees, face in my hands. My abdomen contracts in anger as I force myself to breathe.

  I hope she understands. I hope she can forgive me and move on with her life, realizing how narrowly she escaped being ruined by the biggest bastard she’ll ever meet. I will take her to that convent and then we must go our separate ways. She and Patti can move to the middle of nowhere and she can attempt to live in peace. It’s good that we didn’t have sex—this way she’ll be able to forget about me, and she’ll be okay.

  I look up at her, feeling a sliver of hope for her, and that’s when I see it.

  She’s staring right at me, and floating around her body like a grand cotton-candy swirl is the pink of love. For half a second my heart rejoices—she loves me. And then I realize . . . I’ve ruined her anyhow.

  I shut my eyes and lose all energy.

  In a perfect world I would stand and take her in my arms. In a perfect world I would be her stupid boyfriend and make love to her all night without worry. In a perfect world I’d tell her the words I’ve been too afraid to admit to my own self.

  As quickly as my heart swells, it seizes in terror. Anna doesn’t know the stories of Neph who fell in love and attempted secret relationships, only to be executed in horrific public displays as warnings to other Neph.

  I will not allow that to happen to Anna.

  I hear her moving about the room but cannot bear to open my eyes yet. When the phone rings I still don’t move, but I listen to her conversation.

  Holy shite. The nun is dead.

  CHAPTER TEN

  One-Way Flight

  “I’m the devil’s son straight out of hell, and you’re an angel with a haunted heart.

  If you were smart you’d run and protect yourself, from a demon living in the dark.”

  —“Save Yourself” by My Darkest Days

  I’m not accustomed to hanging around once things get awkward. I know Anna expects me to say something, but I can’t. I take her to the convent to get whatever this nun has left her, and then take her back to the hotel room. We sit on her bed and I use my knife to open the box. I won’t lie, I’m dying of curiosity—but what we find inside takes me completely by surprise.

  I stare down at the shimmering hilt. Every major pulse point in my body is pounding erratically. This cannot be what I think it is. . . .

  “May I?” I ask.

  “Go ahead.” She nods toward the mysterious sword hilt.

  I pick it up with care, and it’s warm in my hands. The metal feels solid, but just under the surface it seems to swirl as if made of liquid.

  Blood slams inside my ears and head. “I don’t believe it,” I whisper.

  “What?” Anna asks. “What is it?”

  Could it be a heavenly relic? I quickly drop it back into the box and close my hands into fists. Anna reaches for it, and the second her fingers touch it she gasps and yelps, yanking her hand away as if she’s been stung. This confirms everything I need to know.

  “What is this thing?” She stares at it with distrust.

  “It clearly wasn’t forged on earth. I think— But it’s impossible. A Sword of Righteousness?” Saying the words out loud sends a wave of cold over me. I’ve heard tales of these weapons, but I’ve never heard of one being on earth.

  “What’s that?” she asks in awe.

  “They were used by the angels in the war of the heavens.” Used by angels, feared by demons.

  “But why is she giving it to me?” Anna asks.

  Why, indeed? Was this nun truly human?

  “Only the angels of light could use them. The old legends say the blade will appear when needed if the wielder is pure of heart. Anna . . . it’s the only known weapon that can take out a demon spirit.”

  We stare at each other, and her eyes are wide when she asks again, “And why is she giving it to me?”

  Isn’t it obvious? Anna is good and pure and full of innocence, like an angel. The Sword of Righteousness reacted to her touch. But in my sordid hands it was useless. There have always been major differences between us, but in this moment it’s as if stone barriers are erected around her.

  OFF-LIMITS.

  She is destined for something I cannot fathom. Something I could easily ruin if I stay near her. Today I had a freak moment of strength, but I can’t guarantee that will ever happen again. I need to get her to safety, away from me.

  Her eyes have gone a bit foggy with shock.

  “I need to clear my head,” I say absently as I grab my wallet and keys. I give Anna instructions to call Patti on the room phone, and I rush out.

  My hands are shaking and my stomach churns when I climb into my vehicle and start the ignition. I drive two miles away and park in a shop’s lot. It only takes a few minutes to do a one-way-flight search. It’s already after dark, but I’m hoping I can get Anna on a late flight tonight.

  No such luck. Damn it. I slam my palm on the steering wheel. I don’t want to chance another night with her, but I also feel ill at the thought of having her out of my sight. I book her for the earliest flight back to Atlanta in the morning, and then my gut twists as I make a more difficult call.

  “Miss Patti?” I say when she answers. “It’s Kaidan Rowe—before you ask, everything is all right.” She lets out a huge breath. “Erm, have you spoken to Anna yet?”

  “Yes, we just got off the phone. Are you okay, Kaidan?”

  “Well . . .” I clear my throat and gather my wits. “I’ve just run into some issues and I won’t be able to drive Anna home after all, so I’ve booked her a flight.”

  “Issues? Are you in danger?” Her concern makes the back of my throat burn.

  “No,” I lie. We’re always in danger. “Nothing like that. Let me give you her flight information.”

  She takes it down, and when we hang up I get out, keeping a constant watch f
or demon whisperers. Remembering Anna has no money for her trip home, I stop at a corner ATM and take out cash for her. Then I walk. I can’t go back to her yet.

  It’s a busy street with two nightclubs and a bar. I must be giving off pheromones like a champ because heads are swiveling my direction as we pass and red auras are popping up, even through the haze of drunkenness here and there. For once I’m unfazed, despite the needling ache deep within.

  I need to walk it off. Or run. Or pound something with my fists. Because for once in my life I want something—truly want something—that I cannot have.

  “Hey, you,” murmurs a girl in a black dress who’s getting out of a car with her friends. She touches my arm, but I keep walking, slipping right past her. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Lust is the groveling cousin of love. It’s the house made of straw and sticks. It cannot compare. I was a fool to think chasing lust forever could be enough. That is not a life. I would take one moment of love with Anna over a lifetime of meaningless lust, but I can’t. That’s not my fate, and it hurts worse than anything I could imagine. God, if my father could see me now. He would have my balls for tea.

  I walk and walk until I’m craving Anna’s presence so strongly it sends me jogging back to the lot where I left my car. I half expect to be pulled over as I speed back to the hotel, but L.A. cops are too busy to worry with me.

  I run up to the room and am blasted with Anna’s scent when I open the door. I practically tremble as I breathe her in. A stab of abdominal pain hits me, but I ignore it as I walk into the room. She’s restless in sleep, and I want to climb into her bed and hold her. I’m a fucking mess as I sit on my bed, longing like a heartsick boy for the girl on the other side of the room.

  I set the alarm for four thirty, but there’s no hope of sleep for me. This could be my last time with Anna, and I just want to experience these hours of being in her presence.

  Four thirty is a right bitch. Anna is confused and groggy when the alarm goes off and I tell her we need to get an early start. I don’t have the heart just yet to tell her I’m taking her to the airport. Our grand adventure is over. That bubble has popped, and reality is glaring into my face, as hideous as ever.