by Inara Scott
After a lifetime of leaving, can he learn to stay...
When Jenna Kellington was fourteen, her first high school boyfriend—her first love—moved away. Now a divorced mom, she never expected to see Simon Hastings again...until a business trip to China brings them face-to-face, and their connection explodes beyond her wildest fantasies.
When he was young, Simon swore he would never be like his father, moving from place to place and never settling down. As a billionaire venture capitalist, however, he’s every bit the wanderer, never tying himself down. Seeing Jenna again reminds him of who he once was, even as their old spark intensifies into very adult desire. With every touch, every caress, Simon teaches Jenna how to let go. To own her own pleasure.
He wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Neither was she...
Seducing the Girl Next Door
a Bencher Family novella
Inara Scott
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Inara Scott. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Indulgence is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Alethea Spiridon Hopson
Cover design by Liz Pelletier
ISBN 978-1-63375-139-2
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition November 2014
Chapter One
“Jenna Kellington? Is that really you?”
Confused, Jenna looked up from the stack of papers she’d been reviewing in preparation for her afternoon meeting. One didn’t expect to hear the old, don’t I know you from somewhere? line while six thousand miles from home in a conference room in Beijing, China.
“I’m sorry, do I…” She lost her breath for a moment as she gazed up at the unholy vision of masculinity that walked through the door. He was tall and lean, and his tailored suit looked like it had been made for his broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped frame. Thick, sandy-colored hair framed a strong jaw and piercing hazel eyes. She swallowed hard and tried to pretend her body hadn’t revved into overdrive. “Know you?”
Nice. Did you actually just drool, Jenna?
The man’s tiger eyes held her fast, even as a mouth made for sin quirked in a half-smile. “Really?” He grinned. “I guess it has been a while.”
She squinted harder, fighting to squash the rush of lust that was making it difficult to think clearly. There was something familiar about him, something about his eyes. The color maybe, or the shape? Or was it the tawny brows she’d seen somewhere before?
“Add glasses and braces, leave the height, but take away about fifty pounds,” he said.
The memories flooded back all at once, and her mouth dropped open. In an instant, she forgot she was surrounded by the strangers and businesspeople she was supposed to be impressing. She forgot that she was divorced, hadn’t dated in years, and was currently sporting a pair of granny panties, and slipped back into the body of her fifteen-year-old self.
“Simon Hastings?” she squealed. Ignoring how much her clients valued decorum and manners, she thrust back her chair and dashed across the room, hurtling herself into his arms. Arms closed around her, and she buried her face into the smooth wool of his suit. For the first minute, the flood of memories blackened out any hint of the world around her. Simon Hastings, the boy next door.
Her first kiss.
Her first love.
Her first heartbreak.
And then, very slowly, it occurred to her that the teenage boy in her memory was different from the man she was currently pressed against.
She forced herself to pull away, realizing all at once the breadth of his chest, the smell of spice and masculinity, and the hardness of the muscles beneath the expensive jacket. “I’m, I’m…so sorry for attacking you,” she stuttered. “I didn’t mean to…”
His hands slipped down to her waist, and he didn’t let go for a moment. Then, slowly, he backed away. “Little Jenna,” he mused. Eyes flecked green and gold examined her from boring black pumps to poorly fitting, below-the-knee skirt. “All grown up. You look fantastic.”
Her heart thumped at his nearness. Then reality flooded back in an unpleasant rush. Simon had turned into a Greek god, and she looked like she’d just stepped out of a minivan.
“So do you,” she said. A hot flush coursed from her cheeks down her neck at the unthinkingly fervent sound of her voice. Damn it, he did look fantastic. Her old boyfriend had developed a magnetic gaze and had finally grown into the long arms and legs that had once earned him the nickname Stretch.
She, on the other hand, looked like hell. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that her loose bun looked chic and sophisticated, it really just served to hide the fact that she hadn’t had a haircut for months. And her outfit… She forced a smile to cover her inner desire to run screaming from the room.
How cruel could Fate possibly be? To send the guy she hadn’t seen for more than fifteen years into her life looking like he’d just stepped off a movie set, while she resembled a before picture from What Not to Wear?
“Jenna, you and Simon know each other?” Chao Yin, the manager of Beijing Next, the company she’d been sent to China to work with, leaned forward with polite interest.
“We were next door neighbors when we were kids,” Simon said.
“But he moved,” Jenna said, unable to look away from him. “When we were fifteen.”
“My dad liked to travel,” Simon said, almost apologetically. “I moved around quite a bit when I was younger.”
Every three or four years, Jenna recalled Simon saying bitterly. Every three or four years his father would grow tired of his job and look for a new opportunity. He always promised they’d stay put, but the promises were meaningless. As soon as Simon would get settled into a new school, make new friends, and finally start to feel a part of something, he’d be uprooted again.
“What do you do now?” she asked him, forcing a mask of pleasantness over her features.
Chao’s eyes widened briefly in shock. “Simon’s company Exista purchased Beijing Next a few months ago.”
Jenna blinked. Her mouth formed a small O of surprise as she processed her own idiocy. She turned to Simon. “Exista is your company?”
He inclined his head modestly, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Along with a couple of partners.”
Exista was a hugely successful venture capital fund that specialized in turning around lagging companies like Beijing Next. She remembered that from the background information her boss had given her before she’d left for China. She’d been sent on an emergency basis to help Beijing Next fix their poor implementation of her company’s accounting software. It hadn’t occurred to her that the need to do it quickly came from the company’s demanding new owner.
“Simon is here to check up on some of our modernization efforts,” Chao said. “Including our software updates.”
“I know Chao has things under control,” Simon said, waving off the other man’s words. “I’m simply here to observe.”
Observe? She doubted that. Exista made its millions—or was it billions?—by demanding big changes and extreme performance in the companies it took over. The firm was known for being innovative and inspiring i
ts employees to take their work to the next level, and its results were remarkable.
And she’d had no idea it was owned by the boy who used to live next door.
“I saw your name on the meeting notice,” Simon said, “but I figured it couldn’t possibly be my Jenna Kellington.”
She couldn’t stop the shiver that went straight down her spine.
His Jenna? If only.
“It’s an incredible coincidence. But as much as I’d love to catch up…” She fought to ignore the sudden rush of heat between her legs. “We don’t want to keep our hosts waiting.”
Simon nodded, but didn’t drop the gaze that stretched between them like a silken thread. “Of course. We’ll pick up where we left off after the meeting. Perhaps over dinner?”
Jenna inclined her head slightly as her palms began to sweat. Dinner? Just the two of them? “That sounds great.”
Let the panic commence.
…
Simon checked his watch for the third time as he waited in the hotel lobby by the elevator bank. Eight fifteen. She was late. He smiled ruefully. That was something that hadn’t changed. The Jenna he remembered was perpetually racing through the halls of their school, sliding into her seat just as class started, or smiling triumphantly at him when she convinced the teacher to give her a late pass even though she’d been late three times already that week. A tiny slip of a girl with big brown eyes, cascading waves of chestnut hair, and perfect breasts that he would have given his left nut to touch.
That was the Jenna he remembered.
But this Jenna? The one with the body that kept him staring and distracted throughout their entire meeting? The Jenna that he almost couldn’t let go of when she put her arms around him and pressed those breasts against his chest?
Yeah, that Jenna was totally new.
He hadn’t seen a ring on her left hand and she used her maiden name. Was it possible she was still single? He was single, after all, and they were the same age. But then again, he wasn’t a fit long-term companion for anyone, and he knew it. Jenna, on the other hand, had “settle down” written all over her. That was why he should have laughed at the coincidence of seeing her again and then walked away.
But he hadn’t, and couldn’t, and he was cursing himself for the way he reacted to her. For the way his cock seemed to have a life of its own when she walked into the room. For the way he’d been unable to think about anything else since seeing her.
The elevator doors opened and Jenna rushed forward, babbling a multitiered apology. “…so sorry…I was answering emails…and then the phone rang and Chao needed…”
He held up a hand. “Jenna, it’s fine. Really. I wouldn’t have recognized you if you’d been on time.”
Her ivory cheeks pinked. “I guess that’s about right.” She plucked at the waist of her dress and he thought he saw a nervous quiver in her fingers. “Is this dress okay? I didn’t bring a lot of choices with me.”
He took her hand and held her at a distance while he surveyed her, enjoying her deepening color at his slow examination. “You look perfect.”
He let his eyes trace her body like he’d been wanting to ever since he’d seen her in that sterile conference room. Her dress was simple, a sleeveless little black number that covered her from high neckline to just above her knees. But nothing could hide the breasts pushing against the silky material…the narrow waist or the rounded backside that would fit perfectly in his hands.
He cleared his throat and tried to subtly adjust the waistline of his pants. How many times had he fantasized about Jenna back in high school? How many furtive sessions in the bathroom, jacking off to visions of her naked body in his arms? The closest he’d gotten had been some make-out sessions and a few tentative—but blissful—episodes of over-the-shirt groping. He remembered a little noise she’d made in the back of her throat once, a noise he’d cherished for weeks afterward. It had been something between a sigh and a moan, and he’d convinced himself that someday he’d have the chance to hear it again when they had sex for the first time.
“So where are we headed?” she asked, voice breathy.
“I made a reservation at a restaurant by my place,” he said, watching her breasts move up and down as she breathed. Her hair was still tied up in a loose knot on top of her head, and he imagined pulling out whatever pins held it up there and letting the silky strands tumble around them.
A tremor passed through his lower body.
This could be a long night.
“That sounds great.” She started walking toward the exit doors of the lobby. She was nervous, shooting little glances back at him, her gaze darting from his face to his hands. Then he caught her eyes move from his face down the length of his body, lingering for just a second at his waist. Or a little lower than that.
Her transparency sent a rush of desire through his body.
Fuck it.
“Or,” he said, staying where he stood and throwing caution to the wind, “we could stay here and order in.”
She froze and turned to look at him. “Wait, what? You mean…um…” Thick lashes swept low, hiding her doe-like eyes. She couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t blame her. He was being crazy. He hadn’t seen her for years. He had no idea what her life was like now, and she didn’t know anything about his.
But he wanted her. And he had the feeling she wanted him.
“We could order a bottle of wine,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“We could do that in a restaurant,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He took a step forward, close enough to put a hand to her waist, and turned her so they were facing each other. She kept dropping her gaze, so he finally took her chin and tipped her face up to meet his. “Jenna,” he said, “it’s been sixteen years since I saw you last, and in that time I’ve learned to go after the things I want.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Sixteen years is a long time,” she said softly. “A lot has changed since then.”
“That’s not what it feels like from here,” he said. “As far as I can tell, it was yesterday.” A quick intake of air caused her chest to rise and then fall. His body reacted like a teenage boy as memories of the girl he’d lost merged perfectly with the woman in his arms. “Tell me,” he said, moving his face inches closer to hers, “is there any reason I shouldn’t kiss you right now?”
Her lips parted in shock. He thought for a moment that she was going to shake her head or push him away, but then she blinked slowly, keeping her eyes closed for one long breath. When she opened them again, he saw a mix of desire and determination.
“No. No reason. None at all.”
Chapter Two
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
Jenna’s heart skipped in her chest. He was really doing it. He was really leaning forward and pressing those firm lips against hers. Her knees wobbled, and she grabbed at his shoulders for stability. There was skin on skin, the trace of his tongue against the seam of her lips, the heat of his hand on the back of her waist. She was helpless, reduced to the sensation of warmth and wet, passion and heat and things she hadn’t felt for years. Her arms locked around his neck as the kiss deepened. He sought entry to her mouth and she yielded. No, she melted.
Wasn’t there supposed to be some precursor to this level of desire? Shouldn’t there be a slow build? Not this instant need.
He pulled away, and she had to lock her knees to keep from falling over.
“We should take this upstairs,” he said, meeting her gaze for an intense moment.
Upstairs? Dear God, did they just kiss in the lobby of a hotel? And now he wanted to have sex with her? Just like that?
She tried to remember the last time she’d had sex. There had been a guy not long after her divorce. Her friends back in Brooklyn had set them up. He was a nice guy, a young dentist with a thriving practice and a three-bedroom apartment. She’d been too embarrassed to have him look at her naked body, so she’d insisted on tu
rning out the lights and getting under the covers. He’d called her the next day, but she never called him back.
Could she go through with it? She licked her lips. “I need a drink.”
Simon nodded. “I’ll get us a bottle of wine.” He tucked her hand into his and led her gently in the direction of the hotel bar. They stopped, and he said something in Mandarin to the man behind the counter. Jenna wished she knew what he’d said, but her Chinese was limited to “hello,” “goodbye,” and “thank you.”
Without blinking or sending a look in her direction, the bartender withdrew a bottle from under the counter. He offered it to Simon, who examined the label, nodded, and handed it back. The bartender opened the bottle and then handed Simon two glasses.
Simon dropped a handful of bills on the counter. Jenna couldn’t look at them. Her face was burning.
She felt so…naughty.
As they waited for the elevator, Jenna shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “So,” she finally forced herself to say, desperate for a moment of conversation. “Do you come to Beijing often?”
Simon nodded. “A few times a year. Exista is based in L.A., but I spend more time on the road than I do there. I think I was traveling two hundred days last year. Following in my father’s footsteps, I suppose.”
She remembered his father as a tired, humorless man who, when he wasn’t traveling, spent most of his time holed up in his office or barking commands into the phone. Always chasing the next promotion. Always a few steps behind. Simon’s antagonism toward him had simmered below the surface. She couldn’t remember a time when they’d been in the same room and there hadn’t been some tension between them.
“You don’t have a family back in L.A., do you?” she asked, half kidding, half terrified. “A wife? Girlfriend?”
“You know me better than that, don’t you?”
She glanced at the wineglasses in his hands. “No, not really. I knew you a long time ago.”
“You know me,” he said.
You don’t know me. You don’t know how badly I screwed up my life after you left.
