Tease Me (Temptation Series Book 2)

by Kally Ash

  “Yeah. We went to college together.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to tell her you stopped by.”

  Beau was getting dismissed and he hated it. He gritted his teeth. “Look, Max, I really need to see Vee.”

  The other guy’s expression changed then, like something had just dawned on him. “You were here at the bar a few nights back. You’re the guy Evangeline slapped.”

  Beau jerked his chin forward, owning it. “Yes.”

  “You’re the ex-boyfriend.”

  Stunned, the only thing he could do was nod. Had Vee spoken to Max about him, about them?

  “Man, you messed her up.”

  “I know,” he replied solemnly. “That’s why I’m here—to make it up to her.”

  “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  Max’s question caught Beau off guard. Bristling, he said, “I don’t see how that’s any of your—”

  “Actually, it is my business,” Max interrupted. “You see, Vee is one of my very good friends and I’d hate to see her get hurt again.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he hissed. Sensing the shift in atmosphere, he took a deep breath, uncurled his clenched fists and added, “I love her. I want to make it work.”

  Max studied his face for a long minute. He must’ve seen his sincerity because he said, “Give me your phone.”

  Without question, Beau pulled it from his pocket, unlocked it, and

  handed it to the other guy. As Max tapped on the screen, he said, “If she knows I’m doing this, she’ll probably kill me, so don’t fuck up your chance or you’ll have to face me.” Giving the device back to him, Beau looked at the screen. Google Maps was up, an address with directions already plugged in.

  “Thank you,” Beau breathed. “Thank you.”

  With a curt nod, Max replied, “If you hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

  Retreating from the club, Beau took off running, following the blue line on the screen. Vee’s apartment wasn’t far from the club at all, which was great because it was fucking roasting in the late afternoon sun. Arriving at the modern building, he spotted the intercom near the door. He was about to push her number when a woman exited the building. Catching the door, he slipped inside, finding his way to her floor.

  Evangeline looked at her phone lying on the coffee table in front of her, refusing to acknowledge its very existence... except, now that she'd looked at it, she had to know whether Beau had called yet. She’d told him her number hadn’t changed, so if he wanted to reach out, he could.

  It had been over twenty-four hours since she'd seen him last, and the memories he had dredged up lingered on her periphery. Leaning forward, she snatched the phone from the table and tapped the center button, lighting up the screen.

  No calls.

  No texts.

  Beau was a ghost.

  He'd ghosted her, again, and she'd been stupid enough to believe his lies. Although why she believed him, she didn't know. Call it temporary insanity.

  Dropping the phone, she swung up out of her seat and stalked into the kitchen, collecting a glass and the bottle of bourbon from the cupboard. How could she have fallen for his whispered lies, his sweet untruths. It was as if she were a stupid college student again, tripping all over herself because a boy looked her way. Slumping down onto the couch, she twisted off the top of the bottle and looked at the glass.

  "Fuck it," she muttered, drinking straight from the bottle. The liquor burned on the way down, making her cough. "Fucking men."

  Her phone pinged then, and she lurched for it much too quickly. It was a text from Natasha.

  Dinner tonight?

  Not hungry, she replied. I'd settle for a drink though.

  The three little dots jumped at the bottom of the screen for a moment before her reply came through. I'll be there in ten.

  With a solid plan in place, Evangeline changed and made sure she looked presentable. Just as she finished applying some mascara to her lashes, her doorbell buzzed. Thank fuck Natasha was early. She must have sensed her frustration through the phone.

  She pulled open the door and froze.

  "Beau?" she asked. “How do you know where I live?”

  His eyes traveled the length of her body, lingering on her mouth for a heartbeat too long. Stepping forward, he wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and the other around her waist. "I have my ways," he said right before he pressed a bruising kiss to her mouth. She felt her anger surge, but that fire was soon smothered when she felt Beau's erection—hard and unyielding—press into her belly. With a moan, she stepped backward, throwing the door shut behind him. He shifted his focus to her neck, kissing her in the place just behind the ear that he knew drove her insane. She bit down on the space between his shoulder and neck, breaking his concentration and causing him to hiss.

  "Fuck," he said, his voice low and predatory. He scooped her up into his arms, looking around her apartment.

  Despite her anger, and despite the little voice at the back of her mind, she found herself saying, "Over there." She tilted her chin toward her bedroom door.

  With a wicked grin, he walked them into her room and placed her onto the bed. He stepped back, unbuckling his belt with agonizing slowness.

  She licked her lips and asked, "Why are you here?"

  "I needed to see you again." The buckle and prong clinked together softly as he worked. "I needed to hear you panting my name..." He undid the button and lowered the zipper. "...as I fucked you over and over and over again."

  She had to bite down on the groan and she saw that Beau wasn't wearing anything under his jeans.

  He smirked. "Like what you see?"

  "You know I do." Her voice came out as a barely audible rasp. She cleared her throat to protest. "Beau."

  "Vee," he replied, his voice just as low and rough as her own. "I've missed you."

  Sliding to the edge of the bed, she stood up, running her hands across his shoulders, feeling the hardness of his muscles. Fuck, her resolve was crumbling.

  Just one more time, she reasoned. Just get him out of your system then get him out of your life.

  "You didn't have these when we were dating." She squeezed his biceps to show him what she was talking about.

  The side of his mouth quirked up. "One of the perks of being a personal trainer."

  She leaned down, kissing the spot above his heart, then began pulling his shirt up his torso. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips as she worked to peel away the barrier between them. His heat drew her in, and she knew she had to have a taste. Beau cradled her face, forcing her to look at him.

  "I'm going to take my time with you. It won't be like last time."

  Her doorbell rang and she groaned.

  "Expecting someone?" Beau asked.

  "Natasha," she replied. “My best friend. She was picking me up to go drinking."

  At this statement, he grinned and began pulling down his shirt and buttoning up his jeans. "I should let you get the door; otherwise, she'll start to think you're not here."

  "Actually, she has a—"

  "Maybe you don't need that drink after all," someone said.

  She peered around Beau to find Natasha standing in the doorway. Her friend's eyes were making a slow perusal of Beau's back and ass, and Vee bristled. Beau turned around.

  "I see you let yourself in," she gritted out.

  Natasha smiled innocently. "I thought you may have not heard me ring the doorbell, so I decided to come inside and wait." She stepped forward, smoothly offering Beau her hand. "And you are?"

  "Beau. It's nice to meet you."

  "Likewise. Will you be joining us tonight?"

  "No," Vee said, just as he replied, "Sure."

  Natasha looked between them, amusement dancing in her eyes.

  "We can go out for one drink, Vee," Beau said.

  She huffed out a sigh. They were both still fully clothed, so there wasn't any harm in going out, she supposed. Except that now that she'd had another
taste of him, she was unwilling to have her attention diverted so soon.

  "I'll get my purse."

  "You know I've heard a lot about you," Natasha said to Beau as they were seated at a table in one of West Hollywood’s premier restaurants. Natasha knew the owner, so a reservation was not necessary tonight. And just like that, the plan for drinks had morphed into dinner too. "And not everything was good," she tacked on.

  Evangeline gritted her teeth. It seemed the lawyer had her claws out tonight.

  Beau’s eyes never shifted from Natasha’s face, and Vee was impressed.

  “I can’t say I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied.

  Natasha’s face puckered. “You hurt Evangeline.”

  Wow. She just put it right out there, Vee thought.

  He only nodded. “And it’ll be the last time I ever hurt her,” he shot back. “I can’t lose her again.”

  “Some would argue you don’t have her back yet either,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair so the server could place the napkin in her lap. Vee sank back into her chair, watching the way a thousand emotions played across Beau’s face. Her gaze sank to his mouth, heat searing through her blood at the thought of what they could’ve been doing right now. Beau’s eyes cut to her, as if he could sense where her thoughts were. Under the table, Beau settled his hand onto her thigh, giving it a brief squeeze before her own napkin was placed in her lap.

  As the server finished attending to Beau, he said, “Some wine for the table tonight?”

  “We’ll need three dirty martinis,” Natasha announced, then, looking at Vee and Beau, asked, “What are you both having?”

  Vee smiled a little at her friend’s antics. “I’ll take a bourbon, neat.”

  “No problem,” replied the server. “And for you, sir?” he asked Beau.

  “The same—bourbon.”

  Their server nodded and disappeared.

  “So, what did I interrupt earlier?” Natasha’s voice was sugary sweet.

  “What did it look like?” Vee asked, matching her syrupy tone.

  Her friend smiled and shrugged, her eyes lighting up when three martinis were placed down in front of her. Evangeline took a sip of her bourbon, watching Beau over the rim of her glass. If he was embarrassed by Natasha’s comments, it certainly didn’t look like it.

  “So tell me again what you're doing here in West Hollywood," Natasha asked Beau, taking a sip of her drink.

  He smiled. "To see Vee."

  "But you live in San Diego?"

  With a shrug, he said, "Just outside of there, but yes."

  Natasha's eyes narrowed. "That's a two-hour drive."

  "Nearly four in bad traffic."

  She turned her gaze to Vee, her brows rising slightly. Evangeline could read the message there: he drove over two hours to see you—not just once, but twice?

  Beau glanced at her, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "I think it's worth the aggravation.”

  "Huh," Natasha said then looked at her phone. "Oh, is that the time? I have to go." Tipping back the rest of her drink, she stood up, giving Evangeline a kiss on the cheek.

  What the fuck is going on?

  "I’ll pay the check on the way out. Oh, and make sure you fuck him one last time before you cut him loose," she whispered into Vee's ear. More loudly she said, "Call me later in the week."

  "It was nice to meet you, Natasha," said Beau, standing up.

  "You too, Beau." She gave him a saccharine smile. "And if you fuck with my girl, I'll hunt you down myself. Bye!"

  Evangeline watched her saunter away, drawing the attention of almost every male eye in the bar.

  "She's intense," Beau said, taking his seat again.

  "She's just looking out for me. You screwed me up last time," she replied, shocking him with her honesty.

  He looked down at the table. "I am truly sorry for what happened."

  "So you've said. I’m still struggling to understand why you did what you did."

  She hated thinking about that night... hated the way it had made her feel like she was worthless—less than worthless.

  Beau sucked in a breath, his expression vacillating between apprehension and indecision. He drained the last of his bourbon and cleared his throat. "It was just me and my mom and we were flat broke. I dropped out of school because I had to get a job to keep a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food in our stomachs. The astronomical cost of my mom's cancer drugs meant I took on a second job—a night janitor position at a twenty-four-hour gym—just to keep our heads above water."

  He looked at the empty glass in front of him. "Fuck," he muttered, reaching across the table to grab one of Natasha’s abandoned martinis. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he went on. "She was dying. I was facing the loss of my mother, my anchor, and—"

  "You pushed me away," she whispered, her voice broken despite her wanting it to stay strong. She met his gaze. "You pushed me away when you should have kept me close."

  "Yeah." Beau swallowed audibly. "I did. And it was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I hadn’t pictured my life without you in it."

  She picked up her glass of bourbon and swirled around the quarter inch of amber liquid.

  "Say something, Vee," he pressed.

  "What do you want me to say?" she replied scornfully. "That I felt the same way?"

  His eyes widened. "Did you?"

  "Of course I fucking did," she spat back, her voice raised. She glanced around the room to make sure she hadn't spoken too loudly. "I loved you, Beau. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but you fucked it up."

  His expression was taut. "I want to get back to that."

  She shook her head. She wasn't willing to risk her heart again. "I can't offer you that."

  "What can you offer me?"

  She glared at him, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched in anticipation at his tone. It seemed his dominant streak was very much still alive. He wanted to know what she wanted from him? She'd damn well tell him.

  "Sex."

  One of his brows rose. "Sex?"

  "Yes. No strings. No jealousy. No expectations. Just sex."

  With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, mirroring her position. "No strings?" She nodded. "What about dating?"

  "Dating?" she replied.

  He reached for his drink. "Dating others. Fucking others."

  Her eyes darted to the people sitting around them. Nobody was listening. "I don't give a shit what you do, Beau, as long as you don't try to have a relationship with me. I'm not interested in giving you anything more than my body right now, and all you need to do is give me what I want."

  His eyes grew dark. "I'd be more than happy to give you want you want." He stood up. "Let's get out of here."

  Evangeline tipped the rest of her drink down her throat and stood. "I'm still fucking pissed off at you."

  He grinned. "I can live with that."

  She felt him shadow her out of the restaurant before taking his position beside her on the sidewalk. Her skin prickled with awareness, the heat of his body and the scent of his aftershave only adding to her desire for him. Talking about what they wanted, and what she wanted had made her so ready for him.

  When they got to her building, they walked to the bank of elevators and waited for the car to arrive. As the doors slid open, they stepped inside, her pulse rate increasing with every passing second. Once the doors shut, Beau pushed her against the wall of the elevator, his mouth on hers, his hand sliding up her leg and under her dress. His fingers brushed against the lace of her panties and she moaned into his mouth.

  "I can't wait to fuck you again, Vee." His words were a guttural growl in her ear, and she felt her body respond to him. It was as if nothing had changed—no time had passed. The last four years of hate and pain seemed to evaporate under his expert touch. He knew her body so well, just as she knew his.

  He pushed her panties aside, sinking a finger inside her. She bit him on the neck, causing
him to hiss and drive the digits in deeper. The car drew to a stop on her floor, but before the doors could slide open, Beau withdrew from her body and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Taking her by the hand, he led her to her own apartment door. She fumbled for the key, opening things up and stepping inside. Beau shut the door behind them, then began to strip. Evangeline watched the floor show, biting her bottom lip. He had been beautiful back in college, but the last four years have been good for him. His shoulders were broad now, his chest much the same. He had muscle stacked on muscle, his stomach muscles tapering down into a defined “V” she wanted to run her tongue over.

  "You're staring," he said, his voice low. He ran his fingers down his bare torso, tracing exactly where she wanted to touch. "What do you want?"

  She licked her lips. "You."

  "Where?"

  "Here."

  He grinned. "How?"

  "My mouth on you."

  He unbuckled his belt, undoing the top button on his jeans. When he opened up his arms in a come and get me gesture, she took his invitation. Being submissive wasn't something she tolerated on a daily basis—she couldn't—but with Beau it had been all too easy to let him take the control she so badly wanted to preserve in her everyday life. With him, she found a freedom she didn't think she'd been missing. With him, she found home.

  He kissed her briefly on the neck. "On your knees," he murmured.

  She obeyed, finding herself looking at his belt buckle, at the partially drawn-down zipper on his jeans. His erection strained against the denim, and she licked her lips. She waited though—waiting for his permission.

  "You know what I like," he said, and she did. Pulling the zipper down fully, she released his straining cock, wrapping her fingers around it and applying the slightest pressure. He hissed in response, his hips jerking backward. "Easy," he murmured. "Easy, Vee."

  Opening her mouth, she took all of him, working her way down to his shaft in shallow bobs of her head. She increased her pace as well as how much she took him into her mouth until his head was nudging the back of her throat. He groaned, then when his hands came to rest on either side of her head, she knew what he wanted. She became still, letting him fuck her mouth, pushing her limits and barely meeting his. She breathed through her nose, her eyes fixed on his face, watching him watching her. Letting him guide her had always been a cathartic experience.