Temptation (Bad Angels)

by Inara Scott

  “You got this?” he asked as he let go of her. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as he swung off the back of the bike and came around to her side. He held out his arms and she leaned on his shoulder with her good hand, trying not to touch him more than necessary. Awkwardly, she tried to move her leg over the seat, but she couldn’t keep her balance enough to make it all the way over.

  “Here,” he said. “Just put your arm around my neck.”

  Great. Just hold on to him. Because she had so much self-control right about now.

  Still, she had little choice, so she did as he suggested, letting him support her weight and help her slide back to her feet. Then, impossibly, he stopped, and they stood pinned together against the bike.

  Her chest rose and fell. “Er, Connor?”

  He looked down at her. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and she had the feeling some kind of epic battle was waging inside him.

  “Can I call a car for you?” he asked unsteadily.

  “I think…” Everything that had happened over the past few days rushed through her. She pictured Connor by her side after the accident, then sitting beside her in the hospital. She remembered the moment when she stood in his apartment touching his chest, wishing she had the nerve to do so much more. And then she thought about his endlessly understanding eyes, listening to the story she’d never told another person before. Steeling herself, she relaxed her good hand and let her fingers brush the hair at the nape of his neck. She steadied her voice and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Do you want to?”

  He didn’t move. “To be honest, Zoe, letting you go is about the last thing I want to do right now.”

  A deep sigh rippled through her body at his words. At the admission, finally in the open. “Then maybe you shouldn’t.”

  He closed his eyes. “I have about thirty seconds of control left.”

  “Same here,” she said huskily. “Should we see who cracks first?”

  “That would be a very bad idea.”

  “I’m not sure that matters.”

  With a sound that was half groan, half growl, he lifted his head. “Zoe, you know we can’t do this.”

  “I know.” She held tight to his neck, fighting for control as her body rebelled against her brain. “But I can’t seem to make myself care.”

  His gaze traveled hungrily over her face, and then he reached up to run his fingers through her hair. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked. “How much I’d like to touch you?”

  She stood on her tiptoes so she could get closer to his lips. “Really?”

  He took a deep breath, fisting his hands in her hair as if fighting for control. “Really. You are the most dangerous woman I’ve ever met.”

  With another slow exhale, he loosened his grip. Then he brought his face toward hers, moving slowly and deliberately, and pausing just before their lips met.

  “Tell me to stop,” he said.

  “I can’t,” Zoe breathed. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  She closed the final inch between them. The moment they finally touched was pure electricity, catching her breath in her chest. His fingers slid through the hair at the base of her neck and cupped the back of her head before he moved his mouth over hers. He claimed her lips, breaking contact only to nip lightly at the edge of her mouth, then resumed his conquest, leaving behind a path of need and desire until she was drowning in pure sensation. She melted against him.

  His touch left her without control or conscious thought. She opened her mouth to let him explore, to deepen their kiss. One moment tumbled into the next, every second taking them somewhere further. Their tongues began to play, to tease and taunt, then stroke and lick. Desire sent prickles across her skin, awakened her nipples, sent currents through her stomach.

  It was more than a kiss should ever be.

  And this was Connor, damn it. Connor, who’d somehow turned into a freaking kissing ninja.

  He pulled away first, breathing heavily. “Fuck. This isn’t right. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” she said, holding on to him like a lifeline. She wasn’t sure which way was up and which was down, but she knew that nothing could be more wrong than hearing him apologize for the best kiss she’d ever had.

  “Zoe, we work together,” he said. “We both know this can’t happen.”

  “How can you make it sound so easy?” she whispered, staring down at their feet, knowing he was right but not wanting to let him go.

  “Easy?” He groaned. “We have a meeting together on Thursday, and instead of focusing on work, I’ll be staring at your lips and dreaming about how they taste. You call that easy?”

  She exhaled at the thought, the sound like a tiny whimper. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

  “But that’s why this is impossible,” he said. “That’s real life.”

  “And this isn’t.” She looked up into his eyes. “Seriously, why can’t this be not real life? You said yourself that you don’t bring the guys to Temptation. It’s like a separate thing for you. Can’t we pretend this is separate, too? Like that’s Work Zoe and Work Connor, and this is Motorcycle Zoe and Motorcycle Connor?”

  He gave a short, helpless laugh. “Nice try. But you know that’s crazy. We can’t be two different people.”

  “Maybe we can just for now. Just for this moment.”

  He stared at her with silent hunger, and whatever tiny bit of resistance she had left melted away in an instant.

  “Tomorrow,” she said, “we’re going to go to work and forget that any of this ever happened. Tonight you’re going to kiss me. And I’m going to kiss you. And it’s all going to be okay, because this isn’t real.”

  It was an absurd thing to say, and they both knew it. Still, the hunger drove them forward, and their mouths tangled together. He explored her with exquisite detail, awakening every sense, every nerve. Dimly, she heard a soft moan of desire and realized it was her own voice. Her nipples grew taut and aching, her hips arched against him.

  This time, she was the one to push him away.

  Her self-control, minimal as it was, seemed to be dissolving at a rapid rate, and even though she couldn’t imagine regretting anything about this night thus far, having sex on a motorcycle in the middle of San Francisco could raise some eyebrows.

  Especially among her partners.

  “Zoe.” There was so much unsaid in his eyes.

  She held up a hand to stop the words from coming. “I know. This can never happen again. It was nothing, really. Just a kiss in a different life.”

  But they both knew that was a lie.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You ready, Zoe?” Rafe leaned his head into Zoe’s office. She nodded and grabbed her briefcase, threw in a pad and her phone, and met him at the door. It was Thursday morning, and they were walking over to a meeting at Livend Capital, so she grabbed her coat off the back of her door as well but didn’t try to put it on. She’d finally been able to ditch the sling, but it was impossible to get the bulky cast through the arm of her coat, which meant if she was cold, she had to wear it like a cape.

  Luke was waiting by the elevators. “What’s happening with the pitch for Aims?” he asked as they headed down.

  “Materials are all ready to go,” she said. “I had a good meeting yesterday with my friend who used to work there to talk about the technology. I really think we’re well positioned for this.”

  She’d been working nonstop since she’d gotten home Tuesday night and resolutely put aside the memory of kissing Connor so she could focus on the task at hand. She’d studied Southcycle’s patents, familiarized herself with as many public documents as she could, and read everything she could find about Aims.

  Surprisingly, for all that he was surrounded by money and the potential for trouble, Aims himself had never been associated with any serious scandal. One female reporter who’d interviewed him said he seemed standoffish; another said he’d been distant. Zoe wondered if
he was like some of the men she’d studied with who had no idea how to act around women because they never spent any time around them. One of her classmates, who she was pretty sure had never been on a date, had explained it this way: he had a few areas he could talk about with strangers—engines, electronics, and video games. What was he supposed to say to a woman?

  “Any, er, news to report?” Luke gave her a sideways glance. “How’s your other research going?”

  She ground her teeth. What was she supposed to say to that? Funny you should mention it. Connor and I drank a bunch of whiskey together and then we had dinner and I told him my deepest, darkest secret and we made out on his motorcycle. And Connor might be a bit of a recluse, but the guy can kiss, let me tell you.

  She gave him her best poker face. “What other research?”

  “You’re learning about whiskey, aren’t you?” he said innocently. “So you can impress Aims?”

  “I didn’t know that,” Rafe said. “There’s a new whiskey bar near the Aspen. We should try it next week.”

  “That sounds great,” she said. She glanced at Luke and deliberately flipped her hair over her shoulder. “They say a little personal experience goes a long way.”

  Let Luke make of that what he would.

  They arrived at the Livend offices after a brisk walk. To celebrate her first day out of her sling, she’d worn a snug black short-sleeved turtleneck that she tucked into a high-waisted camel skirt with a wide belt. On her feet were her favorite three-inch black heels. With the cast and no sling, she’d actually been able to curl her hair in long, subtle waves around her shoulders and do a decent job on her makeup.

  Of course, it was all to celebrate her wrist feeling better. Not because she’d been thinking about seeing Connor or anything.

  Or remembering that he’d said he’d be at the meeting trying not to stare at her lips.

  Lips that she’d spent an inordinate amount of time lining, coloring, and glossing.

  “Mason asked me to tell you they were just finishing up another meeting,” the receptionist said when they reached the Livend offices. “Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee, perhaps?”

  Zoe briefly considered what damage a coffee cup would do to her lip gloss, which she’d touched up just before they left. Probably a considerable amount. Still, since she normally drank coffee at their meetings, she decided to take a cup and just not actually drink it.

  “Sure. Coffee sounds great. Black, please.”

  Luke kept giving her a look that said I’m going to find out what you’re hiding.

  Stupid man. He’d been subtly pressing her all week to find out what was happening with Connor, and she’d be damned if she’d give him any hints.

  Like she’d told Connor, their night together had been part of an alternative life. A separate reality. There was nothing to tell Luke about her and Connor because nothing had happened.

  At least, not in this reality.

  Connor hadn’t texted, called, or followed up in any way after that night, and neither had she. It was as if the evening had never happened. Yet rather than being disappointed that he hadn’t called, the silence between them had actually left her feeling exhilarated. Because, clearly, they had unfinished business. She still had a lot to learn about sports, whiskey, and motorcycles, and in between studying patents she’d been stealing glances at bridge websites and refreshing her memory of the rules and basic strategy for the game. It wouldn’t be long before they were together again, and what would happen then?

  That was the real question. She didn’t doubt that he’d been just as affected by their kisses as she had. The way he’d set her on fire with just the touch of his mouth left her shaking every time she remembered it. But what would come next? Could they keep away from each other, like they’d planned? Or would they give in again to the desire that now lay just under her skin, needling and pressuring her to give it one more try? One more kiss.

  Would they, or wouldn’t they?

  She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she knew there was more to come.

  “Hey, Zoe, how are you?”

  She looked up from her coffee to see Mason waving as he emerged from the large conference room down the hall. Tawny haired and ridiculously attractive, Mason always looked like a movie version of a millionaire. Yet for some reason, Zoe had never been attracted to him, while she now couldn’t stop looking for Connor.

  To hide the direction of her thoughts, she deliberately recalled the techniques she’d learned years ago when she was preparing for chess tournaments. Techniques she still used in courtrooms and depositions.

  First, plan your next move. Then, think about something else. Keep your face relaxed. Don’t fidget. Breathe deeply.

  “I’m great,” she said easily. “You guys ready for us?”

  “Just about,” he said. “We’ve been in back-to-back meetings all morning. You all can go ahead in and get settled; we’ll get started in a few minutes.”

  Nate, darkly handsome and dressed to the nines as usual with a suit that fit his powerful frame perfectly, came out behind Mason, talking to two men whom Zoe vaguely recognized as being from one of the bigger banks in town. Which one, she couldn’t say. Livend Capital was always growing its footprint and looking for new partners. He said goodbye to the bankers and then gave Zoe, Luke, and Rafe a short nod. “I have to make a quick call before we start,” he said. “Be there in a few.”

  Zoe’s pulse skipped as she waited for the next familiar face. When no one else emerged, she inclined her head toward Luke and Rafe. “Shall we?”

  Luke smiled, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Ladies first,” he said pleasantly, gesturing toward the conference room door.

  Of course. Because he wanted her to enter the room first so he could watch how she and Connor greeted each other.

  Fixing a gracious smile in place, she walked over and held the door open for Luke. “Allow me.”

  “There is a lot of politeness happening this morning,” Rafe observed, walking in ahead of them both. “How’s it going, Connor?”

  Zoe glanced into the room, knowing Luke was watching her as she did. The object of her attention, however, didn’t appear to notice either of them. He was sitting at the table, laptop open, engrossed in the screen. His glasses were on, and he wore one of his standard plaid shirts. His cell phone poked out of the breast pocket. He looked studious, slightly nerdy, and fully intent on his work.

  Zoe wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the way Luke’s face fell at his lack of reaction.

  Connor looked up at Rafe first. “Fine.” He glanced over at Luke, then Zoe, but didn’t linger on either of them. It didn’t seem faked, either. Just the usual distracted Connor. “It’s been kind of a busy morning over here.”

  “No problem,” Luke said. He set down his briefcase across from Connor at the conference table. Gritting her teeth, Zoe set her coffee cup down on the table in front of the seat next to Connor.

  She sat down, willing Luke not to say anything embarrassing. Connor typed and clicked for a moment on his computer, then looked up again, this time focusing on Zoe. “No more sling?” he said.

  She shook her head. “Just the cast.”

  “Good.” Connor typed something else. It was exactly what he normally did at meetings. He was polite. Friendly. Spent most of the time studying numbers and reviewing documents but didn’t volunteer much.

  Zoe’s heart dropped a little at his response—or lack thereof. Had she completely misjudged him? Overstated the moment? Not that she wanted him to blow their cover and do something embarrassing, but she’d expected something more than…well…nothing.

  Had she so badly overestimated the intensity of their connection?

  Mason came into the room and started talking to Luke and Rafe, both of whom moved a few feet away from the table, leaving Zoe and Connor behind.

  And then it happened.

  His eyes went straight to her lips.

&
nbsp; The movement was so quick, she might have missed it had she not been watching so closely. But of course, she was watching. And he was definitely looking.

  The recognition slid all the way down her spine, sent her skin prickling, and started a slow burn between her thighs.

  “You have plans tonight?” he asked quietly while still staring at his computer.

  Her heart skipped. “No.”

  “Good.” He gave a short nod. “The ladies have their regular bridge night at seven. They’d like to meet you.”

  She blinked. Casually, she forced herself to open her bag and take out her phone. With a quick swipe, she unlocked it and pretended to look at her email. “That sounds good.”

  Her palms began to sweat.

  “Can you make the five thirty ferry to Sausalito?”

  She’d have to skip lunch, cancel a conference call, and take home a few extra files from the office that night. “No problem.”

  He nodded but did not look up. The meeting started a few minutes later.

  Zoe didn’t hear a word that was said.

  …

  Connor buttoned his wool coat against the chilly evening air. He’d left work just before five to walk over to the ferry terminal and get tickets for himself and Zoe. He’d considered driving them over, but given that it would be rush hour, they could easily spend over an hour sitting in traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge. The ferry would be quicker and would allow them to have a drink on the way over.

  He hadn’t been sure how she would respond to his invitation. After all, he hadn’t called or texted her after their night at Temptation, and at the meeting he’d been prepared for anything from her throwing her coffee in his face to a swift but polite rejection.

  Of course, he hadn’t contacted her because, frankly, he had no idea what he would say. Hey, sorry for what happened last night? That wasn’t right. He wasn’t sorry. It had been the best damn night of his life, and he wasn’t apologizing for that.

  Last night was amazing. I know we said it wouldn’t happen again, but is there any chance we can finish what we started? That was the more honest response, but also absolutely impossible. It was one thing to give in to temptation and kiss her. It would be an entirely different thing to sleep with her. His romantic interactions with women always ended in disaster. And the last thing he wanted was to screw up things with Zoe.