Sweet Temptation

by K. C. Lynn

  “What? $850?” Grace shrieks in shock.

  I hand the lady my credit card that I had already taken out of my wallet.

  “No!” Grace pushes my hand away before she can accept it, then leans closer to the lady, “Do y’all have a payment plan or anythin’?”

  “Grace, I got this,” I say firmly.

  “No, Sawyer. I mean it, this isn’t your responsibility.”

  “Excuse us a minute,” I say to the lady, before grabbing Grace by the arm and dragging her off to the side. She glares up at me with determination.

  Sorry, Cupcake, you’re not winning this one.

  “Listen, Grace, this is not a fucking problem for me to pay, it is, however, a problem for you.”

  She shakes her head, “No, I will figure it out. I can ask Mac for an advance and pick up some extra shifts.”

  “Goddamnit!” I growl, “can you not be so fucking stubborn for once? I’m paying for it, and that’s fucking final!”

  We glare off at one another. Eventually she lets out a defeated breath, “All right, thank you. I will pay you back.”

  Shaking my head in frustration I stalk off. I don’t bother telling her I’m not accepting it. I’m not in the mood to fight with her right now.

  Twenty minutes later we’re pulling up to Grace’s. I follow her up the front steps and into her house with the chocolate lab in my arms. I have to say for a medium- size dog he sure is a heavy fucker.

  “This way, I want him to sleep in my room,” she says softly, carrying the giant dog pillow we just bought for him.

  “You lucky little bastard,” I mumble to the dog.

  As I follow behind her, I can’t help but stare at her perfectly shaped ass through that fucking waitress uniform of hers. I tell you, the fantasies I have of hiking up that goddamn dress and…

  “I’ll put him here,” she says, laying the pillow beside her bed, interrupting my fantasy.

  I take in her room, mainly the queen size bed with the fancy wrought-iron headboard. My dick roars to life, oh Christ, the shit we could do with that fucking headboard…

  “Sawyer?”

  Huh? Oh right, got to put the dog down. I lay Chuckie down on the dog bed and Grace covers him with a blanket before settling beside him.

  I chuckle, “Cupcake, his fur is a fucking blanket. He doesn’t need that.”

  “It’s to make him more comfortable, and it’s also for me.”My grin vanishes, “You’re sleeping on the floor?”

  “Yeah, just until he’s more comfortable with bein’ here.”

  “Grace, you need to sleep in your own bed. The dog will be fine on the fucking floor by himself.” I didn’t mean it to come out so harsh, but she looks fucking exhausted.

  She glares up at me, “Don’t tell me what to do, Sawyer. I can sleep on the floor if I want to.”

  I let out a frustrated breath, “Fine, whatever. I’ll go bring in everything else from the truck.”

  “Thank you.” Her quiet reply has me feeling like shit for snapping at her.

  On my way out I take in the small one-level house. For an older home it’s still in relatively good condition. Grace has done well making it her own; it suits her. Small, simple, sweet…

  Seriously, Evans? Sweet? Jesus Christ, I sound like a fucking pussy.

  Shaking my head, I grab the remainder of the supplies from my truck and bring them into the kitchen. I pour the dog some food and get him water. On my way out I stop abruptly when I spot the over-sized picture that hangs on the fridge of Grace, and what I’m assuming is her mom, since the lady looks just like her. They look like they’re at some fair; Grace stands behind the beautiful woman with her arms wrapped around her neck while her mom holds up a delicious looking pie. There’s a first place ribbon attached to the picture. My gaze focuses on the young, happy Grace. Even though I have seen her laugh and smile, I have never seen her look this happy. My chest constricts painfully at seeing just how much she’s lost.

  Heading back towards the bedroom my shitty mood turns right around when I reach the open doorway.

  Oh fuck me!

  Grace is kneeling on the floor, with her ass up in the air, while hugging the damn dog again. She’s changed into her pajamas… well if you could call them that- short fucking shorts that mold to her small, tight ass like a second skin. My dick spikes at the beautiful sight, begging to be inside of her.

  “Everythin’ is gonna be okay, Chuckie. We’re gonna be each other’s family now. I promise, I’ll never leave ya, and I’ll take real good care of ya.”

  My chest pulls tight at her words. Not wanting her to think I’m eavesdropping, I clear my throat. Turning around, startled, she turns a furious shade of red, realizing I heard her. I smile, but it dies fucking quick when she stands up.

  Oh sweet fucking Christ!

  Her matching tank top is just as tight as her shorts and showcases the best fucking tits I’ve ever seen. My gaze zeroes in on her tight nipples that poke through the stretchy fabric, making my mouth water. Wanting to soak up the rest of her, my eyes travel down her small toned legs that are half covered by big-ass grey wool knitted socks that come up to her thighs. They’re cute and sexy as hell, making her look like some fucking playboy snow bunny.

  Now she’s the one clearing her throat. I swing my gaze up to her red face and smile, not caring that she caught me.

  “Nice socks, Cupcake.”

  Her cheeks turning redder, she drops her gaze and crosses her arms, trying to hide her tits, but instead has pushed them up for my viewing.

  “Oh uh, thanks. Kayla and Julia bought me a few pairs for my birthday a while back. They’re called Alpine thigh highs and they’re from ‘Grace and Lace’; they’re my favorite. I wear them as slippers sometimes… Okay never mind, you don’t care,” she trails off, embarrassed by her rambling.

  I let out a chuckle. Fuck she’s cute!

  She clears her throat nervously again, “Thank you again, Sawyer, for coming when I called. I don’t know what I would have done. I didn’t want to call Julia and have her drivin’ over so late, bein’ pregnant and all. I guess I could have called Kayla…”

  I walk over and cup her face gently, bringing those beautiful warm amber eyes to mine. “You don’t need to thank me, Grace, I’m glad it was me that you called. I told you anytime you need me I’ll come.”

  Nodding, she gives me a shaky smile, “I promise to pay you back. Maybe I can…”

  I cover her mouth with my hand and shake my head, “We’re not going to fucking talk about this, Grace.”

  Her eyes spark with anger, but before she can argue I pull her against me. She grabs on to my chest, clutching my shirt in her hands to steady herself. Her eyes go wide and she sucks in a sharp breath when she feels my hard cock against her stomach.

  I rest my forehead against hers. “You need to learn how to accept help from people, Cupcake.”

  We stare at each other in silence, the air around us thick with so much fucking hot tension I’d swear it was going to burn us both alive.

  My gaze drops to her mouth when she unintentionally licks those sexy fucking pink lips of hers… Oh fuck do I want to taste her…

  “I don’t like acceptin’ help from people because you never know what they’re gonna expect in return.”

  Some of my lust fades and is replaced with fury at seeing the pain in her eyes. There’s still so much she’s hiding. I will fucking find out who do this to her, and when I do they’re going to fucking pay.

  Bringing a hand up, I cup her smooth warm cheek. “You don’t owe me anything, Grace, ever. Well… except maybe pie. I want my own special pie, one that’s as fucking amazing as I am.”

  She lets out one of her sweet fucking giggles, which is what I was hoping for. The sound of it makes my dick pound to the same rhythm as my heart beat. “Well now, that I can do, Sexy Sawyer.”

  Smiling, I trail my thumb across her moist plump lip, her eyes storm, showing me she fucking craves me just as badly as I crave her. Leaning i
n, I bring my lips to hers, just a feather of a touch. A small gasp escapes her, and the sound goes straight to my dick. I stay still, because even though I fucking ache to kiss her and taste her sweet mouth, I promised her I wouldn’t until she asked. I can see how badly she wants it, but I also see fear. I know I still have a lot to make up for, after Jenny, so I don’t push it; instead I trail my nose across her soft cheek until my mouth brushes her ear.

  “I’m going to leave now, Cupcake, because if I don’t I’m going to end up doing all sorts of things to you that I know you’re not ready for… at least not yet. I’ll come help take care of Chuckie while you’re at work, okay?”

  I stay where I am, keeping my lips at her ear, while waiting for her answer. I hear her swallow and feel her nod.

  Before I can stop myself I nip her earlobe with my teeth. A low growl erupts from my throat when she lets out the sexiest fucking whimper. My hands squeeze her hips, digging into the soft flesh. “One day soon, Grace, I’m going to have you, and when I do I’m going to fuck you with nothing on but those sexy fucking socks you’re wearing.”

  Before letting go I give her a quick kiss on the head, then get the fuck out of there before I break my promise.

  A few days later I’m wiping down a table, and getting things back in order after the crazy supper rush we just had, when Mac calls out for me, “Grace darlin’, phone’s for you.”

  “Me?” I ask, shocked, who would be callin’ for me at work and not my cell?

  Mac nods with a frown, “Yeah, want me to ask who?”

  I shake my head, “No that’s all right, I’m comin’.”

  I bring back the dirty dishes I have in my hands then grab the phone from Mac. “Hello?”

  “Grace, it’s Cooper.”

  “Oh hi, Cooper. What’s up?” Strange, Cooper has never called me before.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at work, Grace, but do you think you could come down to the station?”

  And just like that my stomach drops, and my heart begins to pound with anxiety. It’s the same feelin’ that plagued me that awful afternoon three years ago.

  “Is everything all right, Cooper?” I ask shakily.

  I hear him expel a breath, “I’d like to wait until you get here, Grace, to talk about it. Did you want me to come get you?”

  I shake my head then realize he can’t see me. “No it’s not even a block away. I’ll walk. I’m leavin’ right now. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Thanks, Grace. See you soon.”

  I hang up the phone, my hand visibly shaking.

  “Darlin, everything okay?”

  I look at Mac. “It was Cooper. He wants me to come down to the station. I can’t imagine why.”

  He gives me a worried look in return. “Do you want a ride?”

  I wave him off, “No it’s fine, I’ll walk. Will you and Shelly be all right?”

  “Of course, don’t worry about us. You just take care of this, and make sure you let me know what’s going on.”

  Grabbing my coat, I give him a quick kiss on the cheek then glance at the clock. “If Sawyer comes in before I get back can you let him know where I am?”

  He nods, then I’m out the door, givin’ speed walking a whole new meanin’. My nerves become more frazzled the closer I get.

  When I walk into the station Cooper is out in the lobby, waiting for me. And the look on his face says it all: somethin’ is very wrong.

  “Hi, Grace,” he greets me softly, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Hi, Coop. You’re scarin’ me, what’s goin’ on?”

  He looks at me sympathetically. “Come into my office, there’s someone here to see you.”

  Huh? Puzzled, I let him lead me into his office, and when I see who’s waitin’ for me everything in my body freezes, including my breath.

  “Detective Ramirez?”

  “Hello, Grace,” he replies with a kind smile, but can’t hide the regret on his face.

  “What on earth are you doin’ here?”

  “Have a seat,” Cooper says gently. I let him push me into the chair; and my heart begins to pound so loud it’s all I can hear.

  “Grace, I have some real upsetting news,” Detective Ramirez says. “What is it?”

  “Miguel Sanchez was released from prison a week ago.”

  Shock, anger and fear slam into me like a freight train. “WHAT? What do you mean? That’s impossible.”

  I begin to feel light-headed, my breathing becomes shallow and I feel like the walls are closing in around me. I try to focus on Detective Ramirez and what he’s sayin’, but only catch bits here and there because I feel myself slippin’ into hysterics… I catch somethin’ about DNA, and doing everything in my power to fix this.

  What he says next sends me over the edge. “He wasn’t allowed to leave town, Grace, but he’s gone missing and we don’t know where he is.”

  “Oh God!” I fall out of the chair onto my knees, grabbing the garbage can by Cooper’s desk I empty everything from my stomach into the small metal dumpster.

  “Shit!” Cooper drops beside me and puts his hand on my back, but I don’t feel it. I feel nothing but pure fear.

  I have to get out of here; I have to run.

  Without a second thought I’m on my feet and rushing out of Cooper’s office. “Grace, wait!”

  Ignoring Cooper, I rush out the front door and run smack into a brick wall.

  Strong arms grab me and shake me, I can’t focus on Sawyer, he’s all blurry from my tears. I see his mouth moving, I see him yelling at me, but I hear nothin’ comin’ out.

  Fear and desperation has me ripping from his grasp and running faster than I ever thought possible and I don’t stop. I only have one instinct right now, and that’s survival…

  Two and a half years before:

  “All rise,” the bailiff bellows out.

  Everyone stands, and even though Detective Ramirez reassured me everything would go fine I still feel anxious.

  I look over at ‘him’- my uncle, my mother’s brother, the only family she had left, and see him looking bored, as if he would rather be anywhere else than here. I clench my jaw and swallow thickly. He’s terrible and now I know why Mama never stayed in contact with him. He’s mean, vindictive and I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen him at his worst yet.

  Next my eyes trail over to the only other person I hate more than my uncle: Miguel Sanchez. Who is now a member of the Latin gang he and his brother so desperately wanted to be a part of, which is why they killed my mother in the most terrible and vile way. He looks over and glares at me with so much hatred it causes a shiver of fear to travel through my body. As much as I hate him, he also terrifies me. I still have nightmares from those dark, evil eyes that stole my mother’s last breath.

  Tears build behind my eyes and emotion clogs my throat, thinking every awful thing he and his bastard brother did to Mama. The only thing that brings me a small measure of peace is his brother is dead now too. He died in prison while awaiting trial.

  “Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. I tear my gaze from Miguel and look over at the jury.

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Please read that verdict before the court.”

  “We, the jury, find the defendant, Miguel Sanchez, guilty on all charges.”

  I exhale a deep relieved breath. Detective Ramirez grabs my shoulders and pulls me into a hug.

  I’m smilin’ and cryin’. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve had since Mama. Suddenly there’s a loud commotion off to my left. Looking over, I see Miguel trying to pull out of the two officer’s arms. He manages to get free, and starts running at me with his hands cuffed in front of him.

  I scream, and just before he reaches me Detective Ramirez jumps over the bench and tackles him to the ground.

  The other two officers jump in to help restrain him. “You’re going to fucking pay for my brother’s death, you little bitch,” he threatens, screaming as the officer
s drag him to his feet. “I promise you I will get out of here, and when I find you I’m going to fuck and kill you, just like I did your mother. Do you hear me, you fucking whore?”

  My heart pounds with so much fear, because I saw the truth of it in eyes, I knew he was serious. I knew that if he ever escaped, or got out, I’d have to run for my life…

  I crash into my house, almost throwing the door off the hinges. Chuckie barks until he sees it’s me then follows me as I run into my room. “It’s okay, Chuckie, but we need to leave boy, okay. Don’t worry, I’m takin’ you with me.” I throw open my closet door, grab my suitcase and start throwing every piece of clothing I own into it. I can barely see or breathe, but fear and desperation keeps me moving.

  “Grace? Where the fuck are you?”

  Sawyer comes rushing into my room, looking madder than hell, but I don’t stop movin’.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “I don’t have time to explain, I have to go,” I choke out. “What! Where? Grace, stop!”

  When I don’t, Sawyer grabs me and gives me a shake. “Goddammit, I said fucking stop!”

  I fight against him, “I can’t stop! I need to get out of here before he finds me. He could be on his way right now! He’s going to kill me!” I’m screaming and crying so hard I’m surprised I can manage words at all.

  He locks his arms around me to keep me still, and pulls me to the ground with him. “Oh god, Sawyer, he’s going to kill me!” I sob into his chest.

  He holds me tighter against his chest. “Calm down baby, I don’t know who, or what the fuck you’re talking about right now, but I fucking swear to you, Grace, no one is going to hurt you.”

  His warm strong arms, and deep, smooth baritone of his voice begins to break through my hysteria.

  “He’s comin’ for me, I know it,” my words are still hard to get through as I try catching my breath.

  “Who baby? Talk to me, Grace. I can help you.”

  “The man who murdered Mama got out of prison.” Just saying it out loud destroys me. Sawyer curses harshly. “He told me he would get out one day, and he said when he did he was gonna kill me, just like he did her.”