Tease Me (The Temptation Duet Book 2)

by Roxy Sloane

  I swallow, realizing I’ve said too much. But Jase doesn’t flinch. He steps forward and wraps me in a hug, his strong arms holding me tightly until I finally relax and sink against him, sharing the secrets I’ve held alone for so long.

  It feels so good to finally admit it out loud. Let someone in—and not see any judgment on their face.

  Finally, Jase releases me. “You’re stronger than you think you are.” He strokes my hair in a tender gesture, and it makes my chest tight.

  “It’s behind me,” I say, determined. “It was a shock seeing him, that’s all. But he’s in the past. I’ve worked too hard to move on to let him drag me back again.”

  “That’s my girl.” Jase grins. “Now, how about you sit down and let me finish up making breakfast?”

  “I’m not going to argue with that,” I laugh. I get some coffee and sit, watching happily as he moves around the kitchen. For such a big guy, he’s got as much grace as a dancer. That must be the boxing, I remember. Fighters always stay light on their feet.

  “Do you have any plans today?” he asks casually, delivering me a plate of delicious food. I shake my head. “We should do something,” Jase continues. “Relax, have some fun.”

  I glance automatically back towards the bedroom, and he laughs. “I’m talking about fun that keeps our clothes on.”

  “What?” I tease, laughing. “Jase Banner isn’t talking about sex? That’s a first.”

  “Watch your mouth, missy.” He grins. “Or I’ll have to find something to do with it.” He takes a strip of crispy bacon and feeds it to me. I bite down, grinning.

  “Our second date. You better be careful, or someone might think you’re getting serious.”

  “Seriously horny,” Jase replies easily. He finishes up the bacon. “The date part might be clothed, but you can bet I’m getting you naked later.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  *

  I stop by my place to quickly shower and change my clothes, and then Jase and I head to Fenway Park. He couldn’t believe it when I admitted I hadn’t gone to a baseball game here yet, and vowed we needed to set that right. Today.

  “It’s the great American tradition,” he says grandly, as we make our way through the front gates with the rest of the crowd. “Fuck, I’m British, and I still take part. Beer, hot dogs, hot babes . . .” He squeezes my ass. “What’s not to like?”

  I smile. It’s a perfect fall day, and I’m dressed down in jeans and a casual sweatshirt, but Jase still looks at me like I’m wearing that fancy gown from last night. “I guess I never had a reason to come.” I look around happily. There are families everywhere, groups, and people on dates. “Amanda’s always saying we need to come seduce some ball players, but we never got around to it.”

  “Don’t talk to me about banging other guys. You’re off the market with me. No trespassers allowed.” Jase gives me a smoldering look. He slings an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “Or they’ll have me to answer to.”

  My smile gets wider. I love his protective nature, and whenever I catch a glimpse of some other girl checking him out, I want to tell them they’re out of luck. For today, at least, he’s mine.

  What was that you promised yourself about this being just sex—no feelings?

  A little voice reminds me, but I push it down. For today, I’m just going to relax and have a good time. After everything I’ve been through, I think I’ve earned it, so I follow Jase to our seats up in the stands, and we settle in, complete with snacks and even a blanket he thought to bring.

  “This is fun!” I exclaim, looking around. The stands are packed, and there’s a party vibe in the air: people decked out in Sox gear and memorabilia. “These seats are great. We can see everything on the field.”

  “That’s not the view I care about.”

  When I turn, Jase is looking straight at me. I blush, laughing, and tug him closer for a kiss. “Aren’t you sick of me yet?” I tease. “You probably send all your conquests packing by now.” I can tell by the rueful look on his face I’m right. I laugh. “Busted!”

  Jase shrugs. “Maybe I like a challenge. I’m still trying to figure you out.”

  “Me?” I blink, surprised. “There’s nothing to figure out.”

  Jase smirks, then leans in closer to murmur in my ear. “Or maybe it’s because your pussy is crack to me, baby. I’m already craving one more taste.”

  I shiver. God, he’s filthy—but I love it. I check around that nobody can hear us, and then I whisper back, “Maybe if you’re very good, I’ll let you have one tonight.”

  Jase arches an eyebrow, flirty. “Very good . . . or very bad?”

  I giggle. “You decide.”

  The game gets started, and Jase points out plays, guiding me through all the action on the field. But it isn’t long before there’s action off the field, too: we’re barely in the first innings before I feel his hand slide casually over my thigh.

  I glance over. Jase is staring straight at the field, but he turns to give me a quick wink as his hand slides higher under the blanket.

  My pulse kicks.

  There’s popcorn between us, drinks in the holder, and nothing reveals the path of his fingers under the thick blanket and over the seam of my jeans.

  “This next guy at bat, he’s a deep hitter,” Jase says casually.

  “Deep?” I echo, trying not to squirm.

  “And hard.” Jase finds my fly and deftly unbuttons my jeans.

  I inhale in a rush. Is he really doing this here?

  “What do you think?” he asks me with a teasing grin. “Should he go for third?”

  Yes. He really is.

  I bite my lip, but I can’t resist. It’s naughty and thrilling and all the things I’m just figuring out I love.

  “He can try,” I reply, holding his gaze. “But I don’t know if he’s good enough to make it.”

  Jase grins. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”

  Under the blanket, he eases my zipper down and slips his hand under the waistband of my panties. I part my knees wider, sinking lower in my seat to give him access. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I grab the popcorn box and hold it over my lap, hiding the movement rippling just beneath the blanket.

  Nobody can see him slide his hand lower, under my panties, until his fingertips curl over my mound and find my clit.

  I bite back a yelp.

  “Has it been raining?” Jase asks. “The conditions seem slippery.”

  Now he’s pushing it. I give him a look, but he just grins wickedly and delves a little deeper, dipping into my slick pussy and tracing my lips.

  Mmmmm . . .

  I try not to make a sound, even though his caress is driving me crazy. I stare straight ahead at the field, but I don’t see a minute of the play. The only thing I care about is the feel of his thick fingers rubbing gently at my clit, slow circular motions that set my blood on fire and send more liquid rushing hot to my core.

  “You OK there, baby?” Jase is smirking. “You look a little flushed.”

  I narrow my eyes. Two can play that game. “I’m fine,” I say innocently, as I slide one of my hands under the blanket, too. I reach over between his legs, and find him: the hard outline of his cock already pressing at his jeans.

  I scratch the swelling lightly through his jeans, and Jase makes a strangled noise. I grin. “What about you, baby?” I echo, teasing. I stroke him again, massaging his length harder. “Getting hot under the collar?”

  Jase gives me a sexy look that curls my stomach up in knots. “You’re lucky we’re in a public place,” he says in a low voice. “Because otherwise I’d put you over my lap and spank you again.”

  “Promises, promises.” Bolder now, I keep massaging. In answer, Jase curls his fingers up inside me and pulses.

  Oh God.

  His hand presses my clit, rubbing me with every new thrust. I don’t know what he’s doing with his fingers, but fuck, it feels too good. I can’t deal with all the flirti
ng anymore, it’s taking everything I have not to moan out loud. I’m close now, fuck, I’m going to come—

  “Hot dogs!” A vendor comes up the aisle. “Get your hot dogs.”

  “We’ll take one. Right Chloe?” Jase gives me a smug look, and I freeze. What?

  I snatch my hand out of his lap, but Jase doesn’t stop rubbing me under the blanket. Those wicked, delicious strokes that are sending me to the edge. Fuck.

  The hot dog guy makes his way over to us. “Jase!” I hiss, but he just chuckles.

  “That’ll be six bucks,” the vendor says.

  “You pay the man,” Jase suggests. “My hands are full.”

  My cheeks are flushing hot, and I’m sure the guy can see what Jase is doing, but I fumble in my wallet and pull out the money with shaking hands.

  “Here you go—” My voice rises in a yelp as Jase gently pinches my clit. Oh God. I can’t hold back, not even with this guy staring straight at me. I come right there, pleasure slamming through me as I do everything I can not to scream out loud.

  Fuck.

  “One hot dog for the lady,” the man booms, and passes it over. “Enjoy!”

  “Oh, she will,” Jase answers for me. “In fact, I think she already is.”

  I snatch the package blindly, still lost in the pleasure rushing through my body. The minute the vendor is gone, I turn and hit Jase in the arm.

  “I can’t believe you just did that!”

  Jase smirks, and pulls his hand out from under the blanket—then licks his fingers one by one. “I told you I needed another taste,” he says, and damn, he’s still too sexy to bear.

  “I hate you,” I tell him, not meaning it.

  He laughs. “You just came your brains out in front of a complete stranger, and loved every minute of it. You’re welcome.”

  He leans over and kisses me, and I let him, still breathless.

  Damn him, he’s right.

  *

  After the game, I have Jase drop me back at my place. “I need to pick up some clothes and stuff for tomorrow,” I tell him.

  “Who needs clothes? I plan on keeping you naked all week,” Jase replies with a wolfish grin.

  I laugh. “I think maybe Marcie and my clients would have a problem with that. I won’t be long,” I promise. “I’ll take a cab and meet you back at your place.”

  “Deal.” Jase kisses me before he lets me out of the car. A slow, deep, hot kiss that sends me reeling. “Don’t make me wait,” he warns me with a grin. “My cock’s got plans for you.”

  “Promise.” I get out and practically skip up the stairs to my apartment. I can’t wait for whatever wicked things he’s planning, and the sooner I get packed, the sooner I can find out exactly what—

  “Chloe.”

  I stop dead in the hallway. There’s someone waiting outside my door—the last person I ever thought I’d see again.

  Max.

  13.

  CHLOE

  “What are you doing here?” I demand, pushing past him and unlocking the door. “I thought I was . . . what was it you said?” The betrayal stings just to think about it. “A cheap whore.” I remember. “You were happy to be rid of me.”

  “I was.” Max gives me an oily grin. “Would you believe I’ve seen the error of my ways and came to beg you to come back to me?”

  I snort. “Try another. Or better yet, don’t. I have nothing to say to you.” I step inside. “Did you get my message about that reporter calling? You should start telling people the wedding’s off. Unless you want me to be the one to break the news about why it’s all over.”

  I try to close the door in his face, but Max sticks his foot out and stops me. “We’re not cancelling the wedding. It’s going ahead like we planned. In fact, I’d like to move it up.”

  I stare. Has he lost his mind? He hired Jase to dig around in my past just to find a reason to break up with me and call off the engagement. Now he’s back here talking marriage again like nothing’s happened?

  “You’re crazy,” I tell him bluntly. “You think I’m going to marry you after everything you’ve done?”

  “Yes.” Max is still smirking, a chilling smile that makes my blood run cold.

  How could I ever have found that face handsome? I shudder to think of it, and kick his foot out of the way. “You’re wasting your time. Goodbye, Max.”

  As the door closes, I hear his voice say, “Check your phone, Chloe.”

  I lock the door behind me, just as my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Max, and even though I know I should delete it, curiosity wins. I click to open the message, and find a video file there.

  I hit play.

  The video starts. It’s a hand-held camera, focused on a bedroom. “Come on, don’t be uptight,” a male voice says. “You’re so sexy, you’ll be great.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  A girl’s voice comes, and my whole body turns to ice. I recognize that voice.

  Oh God. It’s me.

  I watch in horror as the video clip continues. The camera gets set in place, and then there we are: me and Aleksander, there on screen. Years ago, when I was still a teenager.

  In a flash, it all comes rushing back to me. How he pushed me, saying how hot it would be to film us together. I knew in my gut it was a bad idea, but still, I wanted so much to make him happy. I went along with it because I thought it was what I should be doing: proving I was sexy and grown-up and fun.

  I never dreamed that one day I’d be seeing it on screen, my most guilty mistakes captured forever in streaming video.

  The shame floods through me, red hot. I watch myself pose for him, awkwardly stripping off my bra and panties. Aleksander murmurs his approval. “Come over here and show me why you’re teacher’s pet.” I get to my knees and start giving him a blow job. Then he makes me get on the bed, spreading my legs for the camera before he starts having sex with me. It’s graphic, every moment captured crystal clear. There’s no mistaking that it’s me there on screen: my face, my body. My—

  I shut it off. Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.

  My head spins. How is this happening? Just when I thought the past was behind me, it’s back—and worse than I could have imagined. How did Max get this video?

  And what is he planning on doing with it?

  I lurch for the door and fling it open. “Max—” I start to call, but he’s standing right there. Leaning against the wall opposite, smirking, like he knew I’d come after him.

  “Ready to talk?” Max strolls past me, inside the apartment, and I let him.

  “Where did you get this?” I whisper, still in shock.

  Max laughs. “Your boyfriend isn’t the only private dick in town. I had someone go digging, and look what they found.”

  I shake my head, trying to block the images from my brain, but it’s too late. “I don’t understand. Why would Aleksander show that to anyone? He’s married!”

  “Everyone has their price.” Max looks at me with contempt in his eyes. “And this is yours.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, this little video says I own you. You do exactly what I say, and maybe I won’t send it to everyone you’ve ever met.”

  I panic. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Try me.” Max shrugs. “Let me see, there’s your job, for starters. Obviously they’d fire you once this got out. Can’t have a little slut like you making the company look bad. Then, what the hell, maybe I’ll post it online. Would you like that? Millions of people will see just what a whore you’ve always been.”

  I can’t keep my sobs back. My whole world is crashing down around me, and I have to fight to even breathe. “What do you want from me?” I cry.

  “I told you. I want the wedding back on.”

  “But why? Why are you doing this?” I plead. “You wanted me out of your life, well, I’m out! Can’t you just let me go and leave me in peace?”

  “Believe me, I wish I could.” Max’s smug smile turns to a scowl. “But
it turns out, my inheritance comes with a few conditions. If my grandmother dies before I get married, I barely get a thing.”

  I gasp for air, trying to understand. “This is about money? So go find someone else. Plenty of girls would kill to be a Mainwaring. Go get one of them to say ‘I do.’ ”

  “I don’t have time!” Max slams his fist on the table. “Sylvia had chest pains the other night. False alarm, but I can’t take the risk. Besides, you’re all set to go. We’ve got the wedding planners on call, the press loves you. Our whirlwind romance, remember?”

  “Except for one problem.” I find my voice. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.”

  “Really?” Max gives me a long look. “Then enjoy your life as the biggest porn star on the internet. That’s the thing about being engaged to me, however briefly,” he adds, smiling. “There isn’t a gossip blog or society column in the country who won’t run a story about my former fiancée’s shameful past. You’ll be famous,” he laughs. “Famous for sucking cock, at least.”

  He pulls out his phone. “I’ve got that reporter’s email here somewhere . . . there it is.” He clicks at his phone, and my heart stops.

  “Don’t!” I cry, before I can take it back. “Stop, please.”

  Max pauses. “I’m serious,” he warns me. “I want a fuck-off big wedding and your name on the damn license, or this thing goes viral.”