Dare to Tempt

by Carly Phillips

  He used the dimmer and set the lights to low, leading her to the king-size mattress in the middle of the room. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting this?”

  “Since the day I sat on your lap for the first time?” she asked.

  “Nope. Since the first time I laid eyes on you at Dare Nation.”

  She treated him to a smirk. “When Austin hit you in the head for talking smack.”

  He laughed at the memory, then began to slide her jacket off, and she stiffened. Somehow she’d forgotten the thing she wanted to hide.

  He brushed her hair off her shoulder. “What’s up with the jacket?”

  “Nothing.” Maybe the lights were dim enough he wouldn’t notice … and then she wouldn’t have to explain.

  “Okay, then you don’t have to talk about whatever it is. But you can trust me.” But he didn’t rush to remove the jacket again. “Do you know how sexy you are in black leather?” he asked.

  “Yeah?” She forced herself to relax and focus on the hot guy in front of her.

  He leaned close and brushed his lips across her neck, causing her body to tremble and her nipples to pucker into tight peaks. “Yeah.”

  The next time he attempted to slide off her jacket, she allowed the garment to slip off and fall to the floor.

  “As much as I love you in leather, I like the view of you in this tank top, too.” He dipped his fingers into her cleavage, rubbing the material between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckle brushing her skin. “And I know what I’d like you in even better.” His eyes darkened to almost navy. “Absolutely nothing.”

  Knowing she was fully invested in being with him, she lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, baring herself. Her demi-cut bra revealed more than it covered, and based on his low groan, he appreciated her choice.

  He reached a hand behind her back and nimbly unhooked the garment, tossing it to the floor with her jacket.

  “Impressive move.”

  He grinned. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

  She laughed and reached for the belt buckle of his jeans, but he took over, making quick work of undressing, while she shed her shoes and jeans, then added her panties to the ever-growing pile of clothing.

  She stood up straight and took in his gloriously naked body, her gaze going immediately to his impressive erection. Reaching out, she cupped him in her hand, her fingers barely touching.

  With a groan, he pulled away. “I have too much I want to do to you. No rushing me.” He lifted her by her waist and settled her on the bed. “Move to the middle of the mattress so I have access to all of you.”

  Doing as he asked, she scooted to the center, propping herself up on her elbows and watching as he joined her. He prowled toward her, a determined look in his eyes, before leaning down. She expected him to kiss her lips, but he dipped his head and latched on to her nipple, sparking an unexpected tug of desire from her breast to her clit. Arousal like she’d never felt before rushed through her, and she fell back against the mattress.

  Closing her eyes, she reached up and grasped on to the headboard, giving him full access, and he took advantage. While one hand cupped and molded her full flesh, his mouth devoured her other breast. He licked and sucked and even bit down on the rigid peak until her hips were arching, her body writhing with need.

  He blew on the damp place his mouth had left behind, then switched to her other breast. After giving it the same treatment, his lips trailed down her chest, and ripples of desire added to the arousal already flowing through her. He licked his way over the space between her ribs, down to her belly button, and continued tracing over her lower abdomen.

  She sucked in a breath as those talented lips made their way downward. Next thing she knew, that mouth covered her sex and she saw stars. He devoured her like a starving man who’d been given a feast, and she reaped the rewards.

  His tongue ran up and down her sex, teasing, tasting, and even nipping along the way. She moaned in delight, grinding herself against his mouth, seeking relief from the building tightness that started low in her body, a growing need that threatened to explode.

  His hands came to rest on her thighs, and he sucked her clit into his mouth, torturing her in the best possible way. Her body tingled and sensation mounted until suddenly she flew apart, coming hard, everything inside her coalescing into the most amazing orgasm she’d ever had.

  Before she could come back to herself, he’d come over her, his hard cock already covered with a condom, and he began easing himself inside her. Easing being the operative word because he was big and she needed to stretch to accommodate him.

  He raised his hips and pushed in deeper. “Okay?”

  She grinned. “So damned good. What are you waiting for?”

  “That’s my sassy girl.” He eased out and thrust hard, slamming in until they were joined completely, his hard cock pulsing inside her.

  He was big, thick, and she felt him everywhere, and if she’d thought she was a one-orgasm—if she was lucky—girl, she learned differently. She’d been with the wrong men. Because she’d never felt a man like Damon Prescott inside her before.

  She also knew he’d ruined her for all other men. And that was before he began to move. A few pumps of his hips and she was climbing toward release again, but before she could gain traction, he pulled out.

  “Switch positions,” he said, his gaze hot on hers.

  She released the headboard, groaning as she lowered her arms because she’d been gripping the iron so tightly.

  He helped her up and flipped her onto her belly. “On your knees.”

  She did as he asked, rising up and glancing over her shoulder. He’d already come over her, his chest pressing to her back, his cock nudging at her entrance. But he paused to seal his lips over hers and kiss her hard before he began thrusting into her, immediately taking her for the ride of her life.

  All the pent-up passion they’d been feeling exploded between them. He thrust in and slid back, his hips slamming against her as he picked up rhythm. One arm hooked around her waist, the other tweaking her nipple, he fucked her hard and deep. She moaned and shifted to meet every hit of their bodies together.

  Waves of need rose up, emotion running through her, the feeling traveling from her sex through her throat. And when her climax hit, it was sudden and powerful and she needed more.

  “Harder, Damon. Please.” She drew in a breath at the same time he slammed deep, and she lost track of time and place, every one of her senses gone as Damon owned her, body and soul. But she was keeping her heart. The only person she could trust it with was herself.

  * * *

  Damon collapsed on top of Evie, realizing immediately he was crushing her. He rolled off, coaxing her into him and inhaling her musky scent as he pulled in deep breaths, coming down from the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced.

  And the sound of her in the throes of pleasure? Harder, Damon. Please. He let out a groan. Fuck, but he wanted to hear his name on her lips again and again.

  “You okay?” He pressed a kiss to her neck and stayed there, content with a woman for maybe the first time.

  “You killed me.” The sound she let out was half laugh, half groan.

  “It’s a talent.” He rolled over and she turned, looking into his eyes, realizing immediately he’d said the wrong thing. A bad joke. Evie wasn’t just another fuck. She’d never be just another … anything. Not to him. “It’s a talent with you.”

  Something shuttered behind her eyes. A wall of protection he’d seen when he asked about the jacket. Which reminded him of the scar he’d seen when she’d finally stripped for him.

  “Come on. We both know you’re a playboy when you want to be. And that’s fine. We agreed on what this is.”

  He frowned but she went on.

  “I saw how Candy, Mandy, whatever her name was looked at you. And I’m sure she’s not the only one.”

  He narrowed his gaze, fully aware she had a point. “But there’s
only one you.” She probably thought it was a line. He was deadly serious, but he knew she wasn’t ready to hear or believe him.

  Before he could watch or listen to her dismiss his honest comment, he rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom, threw the condom in the trash, cleaned up, and rejoined her, immediately pulling her back into him.

  “Hungry?” he asked. They’d only had drinks at the bar and he was starving.

  “Sure.” She pulled away, seemingly eager to put space between them.

  If she’d felt half as much as he had when they were together, she was definitely ducking on him now. He might be a quarterback, throwing a pass his specialty, but Jesse Prescott had drilled every possible play into him and Damon could catch a running target. It might take time, but Evie didn’t stand a chance of eluding him in the long run.

  “How’s pizza sound?” he asked, keeping things light. For now.

  “Perfect.”

  He picked up his cell and, using an app, ordered their food.

  While he was taking care of dinner, she pulled on his tee shirt, grinned, and leaned against the pillows.

  “I like you in my clothes.” He caught sight of the red scar peeking out from the sleeve of the shirt. Coming to a decision, he ran his hand over the still-angry-colored jagged line. “You can talk to me, you know.”

  She swallowed hard and remained silent.

  “Or not.”

  She leaned her head back and groaned. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  He pulled her into him and held her close. “And we can discuss why that is later.” Because the emotional issues probably explained much more than how she got the injury. “Let’s just start with what happened.”

  “Okay, fine.” She placed a hand on his chest and began playing with the sprinkling of hair there. “It all goes back to John.”

  “So far all I know is that you had issues and you had to involve the police.” He refused to admit he’d looked into the situation in online articles. He was just grateful she was confiding in him now.

  She nodded. “Well, we had what I thought was a solid relationship. In fact, we were engaged.”

  He blinked in surprise. He’d had no idea she had had a fiancé and didn’t want to dig into feelings of jealousy now. That went way deeper than he was ready to deal with, and right now he just wanted to understand what made her tick.

  “How’d you meet?” he asked when she remained silent.

  “I worked for the Miami District Attorney’s Office as an investigator. He was a criminal defense attorney at a high-powered firm. Our paths were sure to cross, and when they did, he asked me out.”

  Sounded normal to him. So far.

  He ran a hand up and down her arm, reassuring her, waiting for her to tell him more.

  “He worked for a firm with an office in Chicago, and when he had to spend weekends there, it didn’t strike me as odd, you know?” She drew in a breath. “And I worked a lot of nights during the week. We still saw each other. Nothing seemed off to me and that’s what galls me. I’m supposed to have good instincts when it comes to people and situations!”

  “Everyone misjudges someone or something at one time or another,” he said, hating how she blamed herself.

  She blew out a breath. “Yeah, well. A colleague at the office had a sister who thought her husband was cheating on her. He asked me if I’d look into it. Off the clock.” She rolled her shoulders. “He’d done me a solid on a case or two, so I said sure. I asked for the name and information on the husband … low and behold, it was John Coltrane.”

  He muttered a curse, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I guess there aren’t many John Coltranes in Miami?”

  “Oh, there were a few. Just one the right age.”

  Shit. “You told the wife?”

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. “I did, at which point I blocked his number on my phone.”

  “He lost his temper?”

  “You could say that. Made a scene at my office, blamed me for ruining his marriage. One of the cops escorted him out. But he was angry and I underestimated him. One night I was coming home from a party for a friend, wearing a dress, my gun was home, my guard was down… He attacked me in an alley. It was surreal.” She pushed herself away and held her scarred arm in her hand. “I pressed charges, he lost his job, started to harass me, but he still pulled enough strings to get himself a deal. He blamed me for all of it.” She shrugged. “Fast-forward to us going viral and he’s back.”

  “Guy’s an ass,” Damon muttered, wondering what he could do to get the bastard to back off and leave Evie alone.

  The doorbell rang, letting him know the pizza had arrived. “Eat in bed?” he asked.

  She answered with a grin.

  He walked to the door, deep in thought. He now knew why Evie was so guarded. She’d had her trust betrayed in the worst way and she no longer trusted her judgment. John’s return merely reminded her and reinforced her self-doubt.

  Damon had every intention of helping her reclaim her belief in herself. It wasn’t like he had a game to play, he thought, frustrated. He did, however, have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow to get cleared from concussion protocol, which was a start toward coming back. The team physician was someone he met with for cortisone or Toradol shots for his ankle that often gave him trouble—because what athlete didn’t need injections to help pain? And now Doc would check his head.

  Grabbing the pizza, he stopped by the kitchen for paper plates and napkins, slipped two bottles of water under an arm, and headed back to the bedroom.

  A little while later, they were talking about his career and still mulling over how he could have tested positive when he decided to change the subject.

  “So why did you leave the DA’s office? Actually, why did you become an investigator to begin with?” he asked, taking a bite of his third piece of pizza.

  She’d called a halt at two but was drinking from her water bottle. “Dad was a cop. I went to Florida State University, majored in criminal justice.” She shrugged. “Everyone in my family serves in one way or another, and though I was fascinated by the system, I had no desire to be a cop and work my way up that ladder.”

  “You’d be sexy in uniform though.” He grinned, causing her to laugh and toss a napkin at him.

  “Anyway, I had interned at the DA’s office for two summers and met people. One thing led to another, and after graduation, I applied for a job and got it.”

  “Makes sense. And the reason you left?” He knew he was pushing, but he really wanted to understand her.

  A flush rose to her cheeks. “I was embarrassed. Thanks to John’s scene there and then his attack, everyone knew I’d been duped. They knew my judgment was suspect. I couldn’t face them and I didn’t think higher-ups would trust me the way they used to.” She glanced down, but she’d put her water on the nightstand, her fingers tracing the scar on her arm. “Becoming a PI was a natural transition. So was working for myself.”

  He finished his slice and leaned back on the bed, studying her. From her embarrassment to her lack of faith, he thought he understood the leather jacket wearing now, but he needed her to admit the truth.

  “Why wear the leather jacket all the time? Because it covers the scar?”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” she murmured.

  “Hey. You’re looking at someone who understands what it’s like to have their word and judgment questioned. You can tell me.” He put his hand on hers and pulled it away from her arm.

  Lifting her head, she met his gaze. “Because it reminds me that I failed. That my judgment sucks. That I was made a fool of by a man I trusted.” Her eyes filled and she pulled her hand back to swipe at the stray tears.

  “Hey. You’re strong, Evie. From the day I met you, I knew you were tough and could handle anything. Including me.” He grinned and she managed a laugh.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. He could see the gears working and wasn’t surprised when she asked, “So wh
ere am I sleeping?” And with that, she changed the subject.

  “Do you want to go to a guest room?”

  She shook her head. “I want to clean up and then I want another round with you.”

  He could definitely get on board with that.

  Chapter Six

  Evie slept in, yet she was up before Damon, which was odd, given his normal early schedule. Although she’d risen at eight a.m., they’d been up late last night with what she could only describe as sexual acrobatics. The man was insatiable, and with him, she could claim the same.

  She’d woken up in Damon’s arms and a panic attack had set in. Not only had she slept with a client, which she could justify because it was her own business but was still unprofessional, she’d slept with a man who got under her skin. Who she was coming to know and like.

  But she wasn’t ready for a relationship, and he’d never denied being happy with his single life and them being a fun fling. Besides, she didn’t trust her judgment, especially when it came to men and her personal life. She’d confided in him. She’d trusted him with her deepest fears and insecurities. Though she didn’t think he’d use the information to hurt her, it drew her closer to him. And that scared her.

  She liked the independent version of Evie Wolfe. Not the woman who needed a man. Reminding herself they’d agreed to enjoy each other for a while, she calmed down and slipped out from under his arm. He didn’t move.

  After washing up, she made her way to the kitchen and found his coffee machine, brewing a cup and taking a seat at the granite table. She looked around the brand-new state-of-the-art kitchen. The appliances had foreign names she didn’t recognize and the refrigerator was a Sub-Zero, large enough to hold food for an army. Or a big man like Damon, she thought with a grin.

  “I like that smile,” Damon said in a gruff morning voice.

  She glanced up to see him leaning against the doorframe wearing a low-slung pair of sweats and nothing more. She took in his muscular frame from the top of his shoulders down to his bare feet. Even those were sexy.