Tempting

by Crystal Kaswell

It's scary how much I trust him with my body. But I feel too good to care.

  He drags his lips over my neck as he toys with my nipples.

  He toys and toys and toys.

  Fuck, my sex is aching.

  "Please," I breathe.

  "You'll come when I say you come."

  The demanding tone makes my sex clench.

  God, he's so sexy in control.

  I want it. All of it.

  His rocks his hips against me, his cock against the flesh of my ass.

  Those jeans are in the way.

  There's too much in the way.

  He teases and teases and teases.

  I'm panting when he pulls his arm to his side.

  "On the bed," he growls. "On your back. Now."

  I sit on the bed. My eyes lock with his as I slide up it. Then they lose his as I lower myself onto my back.

  "Fuck, Kay." He plants his body between my legs. Drags his fingertips over my calf, up my inner thigh. "You have no fucking idea how badly I want to taste your cunt."

  My breath catches in my throat.

  His fingers dig into my inner thighs. One. Then the other.

  He pins my legs to the bed.

  Leans down to drag his lips over the inside of my knee.

  Up my thigh.

  Almost.

  Almost.

  Almost—

  I gasp as his lips brush my clit. Fuck, that's intense.

  My hands reach for something. The sheets.

  His hair.

  But he grabs my wrist.

  Pins my arm to the bed.

  Fuck. The pressure of his palm against my wrist—

  The way he's holding me down—

  It pushes me to the edge.

  He teases me again.

  Another soft brush of his lips.

  Another tease.

  Another.

  Another.

  Then he's moving over every inch of me. Feather light. It sets my nerves on fire. It has every part of me awake and alive. Alive in a way I haven't been in a very, very long time.

  I reach for him with my free hand.

  He reacts instantly. Grabs my wrist. "Do that again and I'll have to tie you up."

  Mmm.

  Yes.

  Please.

  I bring both hands to his head. Tug at his hair.

  He looks up at me with his eyes on fire. He's assessing me. Figuring something out.

  But what?

  I don't know.

  He nods. "Hands over your head."

  Slowly, he shifts off my body. He reaches into the bedside drawer. Pulls something out. A pair of padded black handcuffs.

  My breath catches in my throat.

  It's so fucking hot, Brendon holding handcuffs.

  He slides them over my wrists then pulls, then slides two fingers under the right cuff. Pulls them tight.

  Does the same with the left.

  I shift my wrists, testing the restraints. They're not tight enough to hurt, but they're tight enough to keep me bound.

  I can still move my arms.

  But...

  He moves to the foot of the bed. Stares down at me. "Those stay over your head. Understand?"

  "Or?"

  "Or I stop."

  No... anything but that.

  I nod. I understand. And, God, I want it too.

  I want all of him.

  He climbs back onto the bed.

  Plants between my legs.

  Slowly, he drags his lips up my inner thigh, over my sex, down my other leg to the inside of my knee.

  He traces his path. Again. Again.

  Again.

  He gets harder.

  Harder.

  Fuck, I'm aching.

  I need him.

  I need to come.

  I need everything.

  He nips at my inner thigh. So, so close to where he needs to be.

  Again.

  Again.

  Again.

  Fuck—

  His tongue flicks against my clit.

  It's soft.

  Slow.

  My body floods with pleasure as he laps at me.

  I let his name fall off my lips.

  I buck against his mouth.

  More. I need more.

  He plants one palm against my hip bone, holding me in place.

  And he licks me harder. Faster.

  Fuck, that soft, wet tongue—

  All that pressure in my sex winds and winds.

  Tighter and tighter.

  And tighter.

  And—

  There.

  Everything releases.

  I see white.

  Nothing but bliss.

  My sex pulses as pleasure spreads through my torso.

  But he...

  He's not stopping.

  "Brendon."

  He groans against me.

  Like he can't get enough.

  My hips fight his hands.

  My thighs too.

  But he's stronger than I am.

  I'm stuck in place.

  The thought tightens everything inside me. I'm at his mercy. And—

  Fuck.

  The tension knots.

  Again.

  Again.

  Again.

  With the next flick of his tongue, I go over the edge. I groan his name as I come. I shake through my orgasm, soaking up every bit of pleasure.

  He drags his lips over my inner thigh.

  He plants a kiss on my pelvis. My stomach. My breastbone.

  I tug at his t-shirt.

  He pins my wrists to the bed. Straddles me. Stares down at me with that intense, demanding look in his eyes. "Keep your hands over your head."

  I nod.

  Fuck, the weight of him—

  He tosses his t-shirt aside. Reaches around his back to pull something from his pocket.

  A condom.

  He tosses it on the bed next to him.

  Slides off me for long enough to shimmy out of his jeans. Then the boxers.

  Fuck, that's...

  That's Brendon naked.

  He's...

  Fuck.

  His fingers curl around my wrist. He takes my hand and brings my arms over my body.

  Brings my hand to his cock.

  Slowly, I wrap my fingers around him.

  His skin is soft but he's so hard.

  And that's...

  The thought keeps screaming in my head.

  That's Brendon.

  He's in my hand.

  He's lying next to me.

  He's kissing me, claiming my mouth with his tongue.

  He tastes like me.

  Brendon tastes like me. It's wonderful and thrilling and absurd.

  His hand stays on my wrist. He guides my movements as I stroke him.

  Then he's groaning against my lips.

  Tugging at my hair.

  He tears the wrapper and rolls the condom over his cock.

  He pushes my arms over my head and holds them against the bed.

  His knees push my thighs apart.

  Then he's lowering his body onto mine.

  His eyes stay glued to mine as his cock nudges against my sex.

  With one swift motion, he thrusts inside me.

  Fuck. That's intense. It doesn't hurt, not exactly. It's more like a lot of pressure. Almost too much to take.

  "Fuck." I need more. All of him. Even if it hurts.

  He's slow about moving inside me. It's a tiny movement. But it still feels intense.

  I hold his gaze as he moves faster. Harder. Until I'm getting the full force of him. Until it feels more good than uncomfortable.

  Until pleasure is knotting in my core.

  "Fuck, Kay." He leans down to press his lips to mine.

  He claims my tongue as he claims my sex.

  It screams through my head. That's Brendon inside you.

  That's Brendon.

  That's—

  Fuck.

  It hurts but it f
eels good too.

  He feels good.

  And mine.

  It's like the universe is just the two of us.

  Like we really are one.

  I rock my hips to move with him.

  I suck on his lip.

  Groan against his mouth.

  I soak up every inch of him. Every groan. Every thrust. Every bit of pressure.

  He moves harder.

  I wrap my legs around his waist.

  It's too intense.

  I have to pull back.

  To groan his name as I go over the edge.

  That last bit of discomfort fades.

  So the only thing in my body is pleasure.

  So much I can barely take it.

  He thrusts through my orgasm.

  Then he's wrapping his arms around me, moving harder, faster.

  "Fuck, Kay." He groans against my neck as he comes.

  I can feel it in the way he's pulsing inside me.

  It's strange and wonderful and everything.

  He's everything.

  He's mine.

  Right now, he's all mine.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Brendon

  It feels so fucking good having Kaylee's body against mine.

  I pull her a little closer.

  Soak in a little more of her.

  Fuck, I can't remember the last time I wanted to cuddle after sex.

  That I fucked someone I cared about.

  I'm not used to the feelings flooding my gut.

  I want to lay like this with her forever.

  I want to get my hands on every thought in her head.

  I thought I had it bad before.

  I had no fucking idea.

  What is it Kaylee isn't telling me?

  Em might know. She's sitting on the couch, tapping away at her laptop, quiet concentration spread over her face.

  The device sings with the Facebook notification sound.

  She isn't working. We can talk.

  But it's not like I can ask her hey, know any secrets Kaylee's keeping? I need to be smart about this.

  I plop on the couch and turn on the TV. "You think Kaylee's happy here?"

  "I didn't realize you cared." She closes her laptop, stands, leaves it on the table. Then she collects the dishes on the table and brings them to the sink.

  I can't help but chuckle. "You wouldn't have done that last month."

  "I like her more than I like you."

  "Who wouldn't?"

  The water in the kitchen runs. Ceramic clinks together. "Are you really spending Friday night at home?"

  "You have a point?"

  She moves into the living room. Brushes her red hair behind her ears. "You've been staying home more."

  "And you're here because?"

  "Did your last date scar you or something?"

  "No. Just busy. With the shop."

  "Like that Seinfeld episode?"

  I arch a brow. Emma loves 90s sitcoms. And 90s Disney movies. And music. It's weird.

  "Where George's girlfriend has mono, so he doesn't have sex for weeks, and it makes him smarter."

  "Maybe. Am I smarter?"

  "I don't think so. Maybe you need to wait longer." Her voice is light. Teasing. Like normal.

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  Emma takes a seat on the couch. She looks to the TV. "Can we watch The Americans instead?"

  I nod. "Why are you home?" I copy her words. "Your last date scar you?" Shit, I usually don't worry about Emma and men. She's tough. She can hold her own. And I'd rather not think about what exactly my sister does in dark movie theaters. But guys can be shit. If someone crossed the line, hurt her— "Do I need to kick someone's ass?"

  "No. I'm just kinda... I'm more matchmaking right now." She turns to me with a curious expression. "You've been weird."

  "I thought I was always weird."

  "Well, yeah. Extra weird." She studies me. "You and Kay have been hanging out a lot."

  "And?"

  "It's just weird, don't you think?"

  "Why?"

  "You're kinda old."

  "Wise."

  "Eh."

  I chuckle as I flip her off.

  She laughs as she returns the gesture. "It's been making me think about Mom and Dad, what's happening to Kay's grandmother."

  "Me too."

  "I miss them. I know they were assholes to you, but—"

  "They're still your parents." Only I don't miss them. Not exactly. I never let my head go to that place.

  They're gone.

  Our chance to reconcile is gone.

  But was there ever a fucking chance?

  Nothing would have convinced me to be the clean cut, high achieving son they wanted.

  They had points. I skipped too much school, hung out with too many burn outs and druggies, gave too much lip.

  But there was a fucking ocean between who I was and who they wanted me to be.

  And I was never going to cross that.

  It's easier to push everything aside.

  They're gone. I don't dwell on that. I've never had the mental space. Not really. I had no fucking idea how to take care of someone when I was appointed Emma's legal guardian. And taking care of a teenage girl who'd just lost her parents—that wasn't easy.

  It filled that space. Kept me from thinking about what it meant, Mom and Dad no longer existing.

  I still don't let my head go to that place.

  And I don't want to.

  "I hated them too," Emma says. "For a long time. It was their fault. I always knew it was their decisions to lock you out."

  "It was both of us." I don't want Emma picking up my baggage. Things were still good with her and our parents. That should be her lasting memory.

  "But you showed whenever they didn't. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't want to be around."

  It's true. I always want to support Emma. Even when she pisses me off. "It was complicated." But it wasn't, not really. Mom didn't want me around my young, impressionable sister.

  "Was it? Why'd they have to draw that line."

  "You have to draw it somewhere." I get it, now. I really do. It's hard being a parent. You try your best, but a lot of times you fuck that up.

  "I guess." She leans back into the couch. "Maybe you are wise."

  "Only maybe?"

  She nods. "You... you annoy the crap out of me, Brendon, but you... you're a good brother."

  "High praise."

  "I'm trying to be earnest. It's not my forte." She stares into my eyes. "I know I was pissed about everything with Kaylee, but I was wrong. I'm sorry. You were just looking out for her. And for me. I don't know what I'd do without her."

  "Me either."

  "Huh?"

  "She's half the reason why you're in college now."

  Emma nods. "You push college a lot for someone who barely graduated high school."

  "And?"

  "It's very parent like."

  "I'm your legal guardian."

  "Not anymore. I'm eighteen."

  "You want to move out and pay your own rent?"

  "Are you really throwing down an ultimatum?"

  "No." I'd never do that to Em.

  "It's just. I do appreciate you taking care of her. Even if I think it's weird you two are hanging out so much."

  "Thanks."

  "And... I do appreciate you taking care of me too." She leans in for a hug. "I love you."

  "Love you too."

  She settles back into her seat and nods to the TV. "Okay. Enough feelings. Let's watch some spy action."

  I chuckle. Em is funny nervous. It's rare. "You working two Thursdays from now?"

  "Why?"

  "I have a surprise. For me, you, and Kay."

  "Same as every Thursday. Four to eight."

  "Good. You two can meet me at the shop. We'll go together."

  "What is it?"

  I shrug who knows.

  "Don't make me take back everything I said.
"

  "You won't."

  "Try me."

  "I am."

  She folds her arms. "Fine. I won't take it back. This time. But only for Kay's sake."

  "She's my saving grace."

  "She really is."

  I disappear into my room to work on a mockup. When I reappear downstairs, Emma and Kaylee are giggling over ice cream sundaes.

  Emma nods to me then motions cut it.

  Kaylee's eyes light up with that we have a secret look.

  "I miss something exciting?" I ask.

  Emma shakes her head. "Hair stuff."

  "Girl talk." Kaylee nods.

  Emma waits for me to move into the kitchen. She leans in to not quite whisper to Kay. "You think you're going to do it again?" She looks to me. Motions go away. "The hairstyle."

  "Yeah. I think this is my new hairstyle."

  "But you... Uh..." My sister's brow furrows.

  She's not exactly being subtle. They're obviously talking about sex.

  But Emma is staring at me like it would be hell if I found out.

  Huh.

  Emma leans in to whisper.

  Kaylee whispers back. She stands up and smooths her jeans. "I'm going to see how it goes. See how long I want to keep up this..." She pats her tight ponytail. "Hairstyle." She picks up her empty mug. "You want more?"

  Emma shakes her head. "No. Sugar will keep me up all night. And some of us have work in the morning. Why do I get all the early shifts?"

  "You request them," Kay says.

  "No. That was some weirdo who inhabited my body. I hate mornings."

  "You hate working nights."

  "Mmm. Maybe." She stands to throw her arms around Kaylee.

  They exchange another set of whispers.

  Then Emma is nodding good night and heading toward the stairs. "Don't grill her, Brendon. Consider it a personal favor."

  "What do I get out of it?" I tease.

  "I'll watch Lethal Weapon with you," Emma says.

  "And the sequel?" I tease.

  Emma groans. "Fine."

  She's been objecting to the possibility of watching Mel Gibson as a cop who plays by his own rules forever.

  Kaylee watches Emma move up the stairs. Crosses to the kitchen. "Hey."

  "Hey." I wait until Emma's door slams shut. Then I grab onto Kay's hips, pin her to the counter, and press my lips to hers.

  She tastes good. Like sugar and salt and chocolate.

  She groans as she pulls back. "We should be careful."

  I nod as I pin her hips to the counter.

  "Brendon."

  "You want me to stop?"

  She looks up at me with those doe eyes. "God no."

  I don't. I let my tongue claim her mouth. I let my hands untuck her over-sized button up shirt then roam beneath it. Fuck, her skin is soft and the way she groans against my lips as I slide my hand into her bra—