An Excerpt from Beg Me
What Drake wanted most was a beer, a dark room and silence.
At least that was what he’d thought.
Until Tania walked in.
They’d had two dates that week. A movie on Tuesday. Dinner on Wednesday. And Monday. He couldn’t forget Monday if he tried.
Nice, friendly easy dates that ended with nothing more than polite, almost chaste kisses.
They hadn’t had anything planned for today, though. Right now, Drake was trying to figure out why. Just looking at her made everything better.
Her heels rang on the tile floor as she stopped in the doorway. “I saw Lou leaving on my way in. He said he was locking up. Everybody else gone?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back, smiled at her, although he knew it was probably tired and strained. “I was going to call you later, see if you want to go out tomorrow.”
She licked her lips.
His heart skipped a beat as she reached up and trailed a fingertip down her neck, pausing at the deep vee of the coat she wore.
It stopped just above her knees.
Fire-engine red leather, he noticed.
Just about the same shade as her heels.
Just about the same shade as her lipstick.
She’d twisted her hair up into a complicated twist that left her neck bare, and pretty gold spirals hung from her ears.
“You look awful nice tonight,” he said, his voice strained. “Maybe I could shower. Take you out tonight. Since you dressed up.”
“I didn’t dress up to go out, Superman,” she murmured.
Superman—
His brain went all hazed and hot.
Then she straightened away from the door and reached for the belt of her jacket.
All the blood in his head drained away as he realized she was naked under that thing—naked save for a pair of red lace panties and those oh so sexy fuck-me shoes.
He swallowed, curling his hands around the armrests of his office chair. “You didn’t, huh?”
“No.” She remained standing there, the coat open, revealing her to his hungry, hungry eyes. “You said the rest was in my control. Well…here I am. And I’m giving the control to you.”
Bound Temptations
Stories of Temptation & Submission
Shiloh Walker
Bound Temptations
© Copyright 2012 by Shiloh Walker
© Copyright 2014 Digital Editions
All rights reserved.
Beg Me
First digital edition 2010
Beg Me
© Copyright Shiloh Walker, 2010, 2013
Tempt Me
© Copyright Shiloh Walker 2011
Cover Art Angela Waters
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. Please note that if you purchased this from an auction site or blog, it's stolen property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Shiloh Walker, Inc.
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Tempt Me
A Contemporary Romance
Dedicated…as always with love to my husband and kids. Love you…
Chapter One
Silk, satin and candlelight. Decadence and romance. That was the image she was going for in the window display of her lingerie store, Lush & Lace.
They still had some long winter days ahead, perfect for cuddling in front of a fire, perfect for candlelit dinners. With just the right amount of dim light and the heavy, red velvet drapes, she knew she could get the right feel. It was all there, in her mind's eye. Silk, satin and candlelight.
In Roxanne Monroe's mind, there wasn't anything sexier.
Well, maybe silk, satin and the feel of a man's hands as he stripped them away...in the candlelight.
But she didn't have that now, hadn't had it in quite some time. At least not outside her imagination or the pages of a book. She wasn't bitter anymore. After all, she'd had more love in a few years than some women had in a lifetime. She wasn't entirely aware of the sad smile curling her lips as she stood in the window, fitting a corset around the waist of a mannequin.
It was a glimmering, lustrous ivory, pale and perfect. As she fastened the busk, she paused to stroke the silk and smile. She'd spent weeks trying to find the perfect material—it had to be the right shade, the right weight and the right cost. Everything had to be just right.
Being sexy shouldn't break the bank, not in Rocki's mind, but a real corset wasn't cheap to make, especially the steel-boned ones.
A soft, musical tone filled the air, signifying that someone had just come through the door. "Just a minute!" She did a quick fix on the corset and then hopped out of the window, a smile set firmly in place.
"Welcome to Lush & Lace."
Back in high school and college, she'd had some idea of going into theater. Then it had changed to costume design. But it was the background in drama that served her well in these moments.
Because the first look she got at the man was almost enough to lay her low. It hit her like a fist in the heart… and lower, all heat and shock. She ignored the little tug she felt in her heart and instead focused on the way her belly went all hot and tight. That was lust, pure and simple.
Let's hear it for lust, Rocki thought, biting her cheek to keep from smiling as she studied him.
He was, in short, beautiful.
Blond hair—the kind a romance writer might call wheat blond because it wasn't just one shade of gold, but hundreds—tumbled into his eyes as he glanced down at the woman with him. His skin was tanned, even this far into winter, and somehow Rocki didn't think it was from a tanning bed or anything artificial like that. She wondered just what he did to stay so sun kissed. Speaking of kissing, he had a mouth that was made for that, for kissing all sorts of things. Another mental image that made her knees go weak.
Fantasy material.
That's what he was.
Fantasy material.
And she firmly pushed him into that little mental niche—he needed to be there, anyway. He had a woman with him, right?
Rocki shifted her gaze to the woman just as she gave Rocki a dismissive glance.
Rocki felt her spine stiffen, barely resisting the urge to narrow her eyes and give the bitch a scathing once-over. The woman wasn't even bothering to give Rocki one—she'd already made her decision and done her dismissal—rude, that. It wasn't anything Rocki hadn't dealt with before and she didn't give a damn.
But if the bitch was going to be that condescending, why was she in here?
Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was the woman's snide attitude.
Maybe it was the oh-so-sexy guy at her side. Rocki didn't know. But something pushed her to do it. Something pushed her to ignore the woman, something she never did, focusing on the gorgeous guy instead.
Leaning against the wall, she hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans and gave the man a whimsical smile. "Is there anything I can help you find, sir?"
She had
the darkest, brownest eyes Cole had ever seen.
An elbow jabbed into his side and he looked down, meeting his fiancée's gaze. By society's standard, Mara O'Keily was a beautiful woman.
Hell, even he had to admit that she was.
Sometimes, though, she left him cold. Lately, it was getting worse. It wasn't so much a case of pre-wedding jitters—they hadn't even set the damn date yet. Mara wouldn't exactly say why, either. First, they had to find the right ring—the one he'd chosen hadn't been. Then, she couldn't find the right dress—that had been an ongoing ordeal for over a year now. She also wanted them to have their own home built. But after Mara started showing him some of the ideas she had, Cole had decided that would be a better project left 'til after the wedding.
He had no problem investing money in a house, but she wasn't thinking in terms that simple. Mansion was more like it. And outrageous and expensive didn't even cover the potential cost. Yeah, he had money, but that didn't mean he wanted her throwing it away.
Especially because lately, she was making him wonder just when there was going to be a wedding. Or if.
Still, he was engaged, and Cole didn't take that lightly. He stroked a hand down Mara's back and tried to remind himself that he wasn't there to ogle the brunette salesclerk.
Although, damn…
Get it together.
He'd seen her when they were walking down the sidewalk. Hell, he'd noticed her before today. Weeks ago, really. But today, Mara had insisted on coming into the store, Lush & Lace. Cole had tried to talk her out of it, with no luck.
Mara was determined to get a look inside because her own lingerie store was opening a couple of blocks away next month. She wasn't quite hitting the ambience the owner here had managed, either. Mara's store,
Divine, was sleek and silver and modern—hell, just like Mara, it was cold.
This place, though, it was just like its name.
Lush. He glanced back at the brunette and couldn't help but think it described her as well.
"We'd like to speak to whomever is in charge," Mara said, her voice taking on that tight, prissy tone she managed just a little too well. And a little too often lately.
The brunette lifted a slim brow and her mouth curled in a smile. She had a mole, Cole noticed. Right by her mouth. And damn if it wasn't sexy as all get-out. Dragging his gaze away from her mouth, he made himself focus on her eyes. And he wasn't the least bit surprised when she said, "I'm in charge."
Mara stiffened, then recovered fast. She always had. She gave the brunette a polite smile and said, "I really need to speak to somebody other than the manager. When will the owner be in?"
"You're looking at her." She pushed off the wall and held out a ringless, manicured hand. "Rocki Monroe. How can I help you?"
Mara just stared at her.
Rocki continued to wait, that cool little smile on her pretty mouth.
Whether it was because Cole couldn't keep standing there while Mara was so rude or whether it was because he had some strange desire to touch her—or both—he reached out, closing his fingers around hers. "Cole Stanton."
"A pleasure to meet you, Cole."
He had the insane urge to bend down and press his mouth to that mole, then shift his mouth to the left, just a little, and cover that wide, soft mouth with his own. "The pleasure's mine, Miss Monroe."
"It's Mrs. Monroe."
Although he was standing there with his fiancée at his side, Cole felt something wither a little as she tugged her hand away. "Mrs. Monroe, then."
He glanced around the store, once more noticing the warmth, the simple elegance. No, he wasn't much into shopping for lingerie, but this wasn't the sort of store that would make him run away screaming. "You've got a beautiful shop here."
There were portraits on the walls, and he eased around her to study one. It displayed a woman from the neck down. Facing away from the photographer, dark hair swept into a loose knot, the model wore an ivory corset and a long, maroon skirt.
It was simple. It was elegant. And erotic. Understated, but so very erotic.
Shifting his gaze downward, he saw the ivory corset displayed for purchase, along with the maroon skirt, what looked like garter belts and other stuff he wouldn't have recognized before Mara had roped him into being a silent partner for her store. Cole looked at the next portrait and saw a similar theme—a dark-haired model, again photographed from the neck down. This time she was wearing something that looked like a corset, sort of, but it went under the breasts and was worn over what looked like an old-fashioned set of underwear. There was something of innocence and vulnerability captured in the photo. And, again, the clothing she modeled was displayed for purchase under the portrait.
One hell of a marketing tactic, he had to admit.
He looked back at Rocki and realized the red thing she had on was similar to what the model was wearing in the second picture. "What's that you're wearing?" he asked.
Mara sniffed. "It's an underbust corset. The fuller-figured woman likes that device because it makes her look skinnier."
"Actually, the fuller-figured woman likes it because it shows off her assets," Rocki drawled easily. She glanced at Mara's chest and then smiled.
"A lot of women like them, regardless of their figure. We cater to all sorts of clients, and this is a popular design. It accentuates the female figure—hips, waist, breasts. I like my assets."
Hell, who wouldn't? Cole wondered. Then he mentally kicked himself. Shit, he needed to get his act together. Ideally, he needed to get out of this store and away from Mrs. Rocki Monroe.
Snotty little bitch. Rocki looked into the blonde's pale blue eyes and wondered just what bug had crawled up her ass and died. Mean viper.
Something about this chick had mental sirens screaming in Rocki's head, and it had nothing to do with Mr. Gorgeous at her side, either.
"I'm Mara. Mara O'Keily." The blonde stared at her, waiting.
Rocki lifted a brow. She had the weirdest feeling the name was supposed to mean something, but it wasn't ringing any bells. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, Ms. O'Keily. Is there something I can help you with?"
Mara started to frown, but stopped just as suddenly… as though she didn't want the wrinkles marring her smooth, perfect brow. "I'm opening a shop on High Street. Divine."
Ahhh...bingo.
Rocki managed, just barely, not to laugh. Her assistant manager had been fielding calls from a Ms. Kelly or Keely. The first few had been polite enough, inquiring about the name of Rocki's supplier. Then the calls had gotten more snide and condescending.
When they got word of the new store opening—a high-end lingerie store that was going to cater to the modern young woman—the e-mails started. Pushy emails. And Rocki figured things out. Rocki supposed she could have been nice and put a stop to it by taking one of the calls, but she had a perverse streak a mile wide, one her assistant manager shared. And they didn't care to be bullied.
Now look where it had landed her.
"Well, Ms. O'Keily, it's nice to meet you. How are things going for the store's opening?" she asked.
"Lovely." Mara paused briefly and then added, "I hope the opening doesn't cause any conflicts."
Rocki smiled. "Is there a reason it should?"
"Well, the competition and all." Mara's smile took on a sharp edge.
Rocki chuckled. "I suspect we'll have two totally different customer bases, Ms. O'Keily." The bell over the door rang and she glanced up, smiling as she recognized the customer. "Hi, Grace. I'll be with you in just a minute."
Grace waved and wandered over to inspect a new display of chemises. Looking back at Mara, Rocki said, "If there's nothing else, I need to get back to work."
"Well, I do have one matter of business." Mara smiled. "Your supplier. After all, as you say, we have two totally different customer bases. I doubt those who shop at my store would ever find what they need here. Since we've got different customer bases, is there any harm is letting me have the name of your supplie
r?"
"Hmm. Well, you see..." Rocki smirked inwardly. "My supplier is a private individual who hand selects who she works with. If you wish to leave your card, I'll get the info to her. Beyond that...I'm not handing out her information. She likes her privacy."
Rocki glanced back at Cole, who'd remained silent through the exchange. Damn. He sure as hell was pretty.
Too bad he was attached to that bitch.
Chapter Two
Grace was going to be a beautiful bride. Rocki had to blink back tears as she stepped away to let the woman study the corset she'd wear under her wedding dress. "Sweetie, he's going to swallow his tongue when he sees you." Then she grinned. "Well, let's hope not. We want him using that later."
Grace laughed. "Rocki, you're bad."
"I know. It's a gift." She checked the laces. "How does it feel?"
Grace nodded. "Fine."
"Don't go crash-dieting between now and then. If you lose a lot of weight, the dress won't fit, the corset won't fit, and it's not good for you anyway." She smiled at the other woman. "You don't want to pass out when you walk down the aisle."
Grace grimaced. "I'm not going to. Mom keeps telling me I should try to lose another twenty pounds. But he fell in love with me, not my waistline, right?"
"Good girl." The last thing Grace needed to do was worry about her weight right now. She wasn't society's version of slim, not at a size sixteen, but then again, neither was Rocki. But neither of them was society's version of unhealthy, either. They knew each other from the YMCA, where they both ran and lifted weights. Rocki did Taekwondo, Grace did yoga, and they were both in better shape physically than they'd been in high school. They might not fit society's version of perfect, but they sure as hell weren't couch potatoes, either.
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