Your Tempting Love (The Bennett Family)

by Layla Hagen

  I look down and groan, quickly rearranging my bra. "Just my luck, having a wardrobe mishap in front of you.”

  He shrugs. "Possibly your clothes have a sixth sense. ‘Hey, Christopher is here. We'd better disappear.’"

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I cross my arms over my chest. "Are you trying to sweet talk me to do the nasty with you here in the pool?"

  "It's not me, I swear." Pointing with his forefingers to his boxers, he adds, "It's him."

  "Christopher Bennett, this is the most shameless idea you've had. And I'm totally on board with it."

  "Ah, I knew your wild side was still there, waiting to resurface.”

  "Wait, no one's gonna come, right?"

  "Oh, we both will, Victoria."

  My cheeks heat up. "You know what I mean. Don't mess with me."

  "No one will come up here. The doorman told me no one else has been notified the pool is already open."

  I relax a tad. "How is it that you make me want to be reckless?"

  "I'm a known bad influence on those around me. I should've warned you before."

  "Too late," I whisper. "You've already corrupted me."

  He smiles ruefully. "Sweeter words were never spoken."

  He advances toward me with determined strides, his grin stretching even more. His entire face lights up when he smiles, which he does often. "What are you thinking?"

  "That you look beautiful when you smile." I wince, realizing what I just said. "Sorry, that sounded dopey."

  "It sounded like a compliment. I happen to like those."

  When he's close enough to me, I run my hands up and down his arms and over his chest.

  Christopher tilts my head up, covering my mouth with his. Warm, soft and inviting. One of his hands rests on my hips as the other cups my cheek. His tongue probes and explores my mouth like I'm a dessert he intends to savor for as longs as possible. Damn, this man knows how to kiss.

  His kiss has the power to turn me to putty in his hands, drive me blind with desire. When he pulls away, I'm left panting and needing more.

  "Your lips are puffy. It suits you."

  "Less talking," I admonish. "Kiss me some more."

  "Someone's feisty tonight." He contours my mouth with his thumb, resting briefly on my lower lip. On a whim, I suck it in my mouth. "Feisty and naughty," he remarks.

  "Very. What are you going to do about it?"

  "First, I'm going to kiss you some more." He gently grazes my earlobe with his teeth before descending to my neck, continuing to my shoulders. Energy zaps through me, and it's as if a torch was lit inside me. Desire consumes me, red-hot and blazing. Feeling his breath against my skin while he tortures me with kisses is exquisite.

  Lowering my hand between us, I reach into his boxers. He's so hard for me already. Christopher pauses in the act of kissing my shoulder as I drag my palm across the tip of his erection.

  "Open your legs for me," he rasps.

  I do as he says, and he slides closer to me, lowering his hand between us.

  "My thong—"

  In response, he just moves the portion of the thong covering my center to the side. "Problem solved," he whispers, sliding his fingers up and down my folds. Every nerve ending zips to life, ripe for pleasure, hungry for him.

  "I want you to come like this." He circles my clit with his thumb, sliding two fingers inside, luring moans out of me. Maybe being around him the entire day has been foreplay, but I'm so close to falling over the edge, I'm almost embarrassed. His mouth leaves a trail of scorching hot kisses on my neck as he descends to my breasts, which are just above the water level. When he unclasps my bra, pushing it aside and sealing his lips over the peak of my breasts, I come so hard, I nearly black out.

  "Fuck, I love how you clench around my fingers."

  Still riding the wave of my release, I reach out for him, wanting to give him the same pleasure, but he blocks my hand.

  "Let's go back to the apartment. I didn't bring any condoms."

  We dress up in a matter of minutes. Since we didn't bring any towels, we try to wipe away the water as best as we can. Without putting the wet underwear on, we slip into our clothes, which will be damp soon, but neither of us really cares. I'm overcome with an almost girlish giddiness.

  "What?"

  "I haven't done anything this wild in a long time," I confess. My drenched underwear is in one hand, my shoes in the other. "Well, actually since we came to take measurements in your apartment. You're a bad, bad influence on me."

  "I'll have you know, my wild side was in hibernation until you stumbled in my life."

  "Are you saying I'm the bad influence?"

  "Maybe." Kissing my forehead, he adds, "Years from now, we'll look back on this moment and have no idea which one of us was the bad influence."

  I swoon all the way to the apartment.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Christopher

  "You're a genius," Alice exclaims, looking over the spreadsheet model I have for her on my laptop. I rub my stiff neck, stretching on my seat, glancing around the buzzing restaurant. We're sitting at a table at the very back. When Alice and I met up months ago to look into streamlining her operations, she mentioned she’d like to add a bar area to a third restaurant she plans to open. Recently, Blake said he is looking into opening a second bar, and I mentioned to them that joining forces would be smart. The idea has been nagging at me ever since. So even though I have a million things to do at the office, I drew up a cost model, showing the economies of scale they could achieve among some other operational benefits. Uniting their branding will be tricky, and marketing is not my area of expertise, but Sebastian should arrive any minute now so Alice can pick his brain. Ava, Sebastian's wife and the company's marketing manager, was supposed to join us too, but she had to fly out to Washington on short notice.

  "You're a genius," she repeats, murmuring as she inspects the numbers closer. “I can’t wait to show Blake all this. Pity he couldn’t join us tonight.”

  "Does your genius brother deserve a second serving of roast duck?" I ask.

  "An extra large one." Alice instructs one of the waitresses to bring me a second serving, and by the time she arrives with it, Sebastian steps into the restaurant, heading toward us.

  When he's in front of us, I can tell something's happened, because Sebastian is grinning ear to ear.

  "Is Christmas coming early?" Alice asks, obviously noting our brother seems a little high.

  "Better. I'm going to be a father."

  Alice springs from her chair instantly, throwing her arms around our brother's neck, kissing his cheek. I choose a less invasive—and more manly—approach and shake hands with him, then pat his back.

  "Ava called me literally the second I arrived in front of the restaurant. She took a test today and at first wanted to wait until she's back to tell me in person, but she couldn't help herself."

  "So, this begs the question, why aren't you on a plane to Washington?" I ask as the three of us sit at the table.

  "Next flight is tomorrow morning," Sebastian answers.

  I smile triumphantly. "You forget Bennett Enterprises owns a private jet?"

  Judging by his expression, he did forget.

  "Do you have the pilot's number?"

  "Yeah. Here." I hand him my phone and can't help feeling smug. It was Max's idea for the company to buy a small private jet, and I was for it from the first moment. Sebastian and Logan, ever the responsible brothers in the family, felt it was an unnecessary luxury. Max and I wore them down eventually; what's the point of having so much money if we can't even travel in style? Until now, our older brothers didn't seem one hundred percent convinced it was the right decision, hence why I'm feeling smug.

  "He'll have the plane ready in two hours," Sebastian says after handing me the phone back.

  "We'll talk about this another time." Alice points to the laptop, waving her hand. "I can't believe it. You'll be a dad."

  "Yeah." After a few beats of silence, he
adds, "Here's to hoping I'll be a good one."

  Alice and I exchange a startled glance. I don't remember Sebastian ever sounding uncertain about anything. Even when there are crises at the office or when my father had surgery, he was calm, in control.

  "Of course you'll be a great dad," Alice says.

  Far from calming down, Sebastian drums his fingers on the table, his smile faltering. "I don't know what to expect."

  "You saw us growing up," I remind him.

  "That was different."

  "Yeah, but it'll help,” I insist. “All kids resemble each other in some things. At least in the developmental stages. When they're four years old, they want you to read fairy tales to them. When they're nine, they need your help to make the soccer team."

  I stop when Alice glances at me curiously, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I realize I've been talking as if Victoria's siblings are my kids. They're not, of course, but in some ways, it feels like they are.

  “Sebastian,” Alice says gently, “You were as much a father figure to us as you were a brother, and you were great.”

  “Yeah. If there’s one person who can pull off this parenting thing, it’s you,” I add.

  "I’m going to be a father,” Sebastian repeats, still stunned but smiling, his hands clasped in front of him.

  “I know,” Alice whispers, reaching for Sebastian’s hand over the table.

  “I have to go," Sebastian says eventually, a tad less tense, though not completely relaxed, "to make it to the airport in time."

  "What just happened?" Alice asks once he's out of earshot. "Was that Sebastian freaking out, or did I imagine things?"

  "Not imagining them, nope."

  "And you've been holding out on us. Mom told me you’re bringing Victoria and the kids to Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, but I didn’t know you’re that close." She elbows me hard in the ribs.

  "Now you know."

  "So you're not going to give me and Pippa any credit at all?"

  "None whatsoever." I shrug, knowing how much this will annoy her. To my surprise, she doesn't insist. Instead, she looks at the seat Sebastian just vacated, sighing.

  "Things have changed so much, haven't they? All our older siblings are married, I bet Max and Emilia will set the date soon, and we're getting a new niece or nephew. Wow."

  I'll be the first to admit I don't notice these kinds of things, but something in Alice's tone tips me off.

  "Are you seeing anyone?" I ask with caution.

  Alice huffs, focusing on the spreadsheet again. "When would I have time to meet someone new?"

  "Someone you already know, then?"

  My sister turns her head in my direction so quickly I'm surprised it doesn't snap. "Max told you!"

  I give up. When my sisters sniff out information from me, it's only after a few tries that I catch on, if at all. When I try it, Alice sniffs me out from the first question. Max told me some time ago that Alice has a crush on a close family friend, and we've been trying to guess who the bastard is ever since with no luck. If the lines on Alice's forehead are any indication, I'm not about to receive a name tonight, so I raise my hands in surrender.

  "It was just a question. How about we go back to the spreadsheet? There's some stuff I haven't shown you, and I have to leave in an hour."

  "Going to Victoria and the kids? I'm still taking credit for that. You don't need to award it to me."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Victoria

  "Sienna, am I going to have any eyebrows left?" I ask nervously. We're in our living room on Thanksgiving afternoon. Lucas and Chloe are in the kitchen, bickering. Usually, I trust my sister to groom my eyebrows blindly, but today I have second thoughts. "You've been plucking for an hour."

  "No, I haven't. You're just very jumpy today."

  Yeah, the prospect of meeting Christopher's parents in about an hour and forty minutes—not that I'm counting—has turned me into a ball of unease. It started during the night when I woke up with a start. At first, I didn't know what woke me up, but then I acknowledged the stomach cramps. I haven't had cramps since college when I used to regularly get them before exams. That's exactly how I feel about today, like I'm about to face my most important exam.

  "The jumpiness aside, I've never seen you this happy," my sister comments after she announces she's done torturing my eyebrows.

  This has the unexpected effect of melting some of the tension I accumulated between my shoulder blades. My stomach is still in knots though. Sienna and I switch places. She lies on the couch with her head on the armrest, and I sit on the ottoman, focusing on her eyebrows.

  "I am very happy," I say shyly.

  "So, at the risk of sounding like Chloe—"

  "I swear if you're going to bring up the baby topic, I will leave you with no eyebrows."

  Sienna grins, laying it on thick. "I wasn't going to bring up babies."

  "Good."

  "But you're meeting his parents today. That's a pretty big deal. So…."

  "Sienna, I have the upper hand here." I wiggle the tweezers in front of her eyes to drive my point home. "One wrong word and your eyebrows will pay for it."

  She tells me about her chemistry project for the rest of the routine. Christopher is picking us up at five, and we're all set at four fifty. I don't recall Lucas and Chloe ever being ready on time for anything, but today they've been surprisingly cooperative.

  Christopher pulls his car in front of the house at four fifty-seven. Chloe rushes forward, jumping straight into his arms the second he walks inside. He scoops her up without hesitation. I think Chloe has adored Christopher from that first day they met. Seeing him reciprocate her affection warms me on the inside.

  "I see you're all ready," he says with surprise.

  Sienna rubs her hands in excitement. "Yes, we are."

  "We just have to move Chloe's car seat from my car to yours."

  "I can do that," Sienna exclaims, giving me a significant look. "Lucas, Chloe, help me. We're going to need about ten minutes."

  "Sienna’s a subtle one," Christopher remarks as my siblings leave the house. He surveys me from my feet up to the top of my head, lingering lavishly on my hips and the swell of my breasts. "You look beautiful."

  "Thank you."

  I’m wearing a figure-hugging red cotton dress, paired with black tights and ankle boots. The outfit is a little too optimistic for the end of November, but we're going to spend most of the time indoors. The foyer grows smaller the longer Christopher gazes at me, desire lacing the air. I avert my gaze, my cheeks feeling flush. Whenever the kids are around, we keep our kisses chaste and our touching spare. The restrained display of affection usually means that the second we're alone, we can't keep our hands off each other.

  Stepping forward, he pushes me against the door, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

  "I'm going to kiss you thoroughly now, Victoria. I need to get my fill of you before we arrive at my parents'."

  "So this kiss has to last for the entire evening?" I tease as he places his palms against the door at my sides, trapping me in between. As if I'd go anywhere.

  "Yeah."

  "Then you'd better make it count."

  He feathers his lips over my cheek first, descending to my jaw before sealing them over my mouth. His kiss is gentle and desperate at the same time, nipping and exploring—and above all, demanding. There is nothing halfhearted about this. He kisses like a man determined to light up every single nerve in my body. One of his hands soon drops to my waist, the other to my hip, tugging at my sweater dress, more and more until his fingers reach my… tights. Christopher groans, pushing my dress back down.

  "The person who invented tights must have hated men." He trails his kisses down my neck, breathing in and out deeply as if trying to calm himself. His thumb moves in little circles on my hip, and the simple gesture lures a moan out of me. I feel him smile against my neck before he descends to my collarbone.


  "Or was concerned about women’s privates freezing in the cold season."

  "Makes sense, but there was still a definite man-hating streak somewhere there. I mean, the damn things don't even have a zipper somewhere for quick and easy access." He kisses the sweet spot at the base of my neck once, drawing himself up to his full height, wiggling his eyebrows.

  "Don't you even think about it," I warn. "I'm not easy, and I don't like it quick." Not to mention, there are few things less sexy than getting rid of tights, especially since I bought them a size too big, and the elastic band is practically under my boobs. My hope is that when the sexy time comes around, I’ll ditch them when he isn't looking.

  "Oh, but I am so very easy," he teases. "And I can do a lot in a few minutes."

  "How about kissing me some more, then?"

  ***

  "Christopher," Sienna says once we're on our way, "is there anyone in your family who won't be there?"

  "Just my baby sister Summer and Daniel. Summer is in Italy. She's working at a museum, and they extended her contract, and Daniel had to go to New York and couldn't make it back in time."

  "I hope I won't mix up anyone's names," Sienna continues. "There are so many of you."

  "If you do forget, just smile and improvise," Christopher says. "It always works."

  Chloe and Lucas are loud and excited on the ride to the Bennett house. I, on the other hand, am quiet and nervous.

  "Kids," I tell them for the hundredth time. "Please be polite when we arrive. Always say please and thank you—"

  "Also feel free to break windows or bang doors," Christopher adds helpfully. I nudge him with my elbow—hard. "Ouch. What was that for?"

  I give him a meaningful look, but he shrugs.

  "Mom always says she misses the time when we were kids, and that she wants grandkids. We used to break at least a window a week. I'm sure she misses it now that her windows are in pristine condition.

  "Christopher logic," I mutter to myself, then realize the kids have gone quiet—radio silent. I look at them in the rearview mirror. Sienna has her headset on, moving her lips to the lyrics she's hearing and gazing out the window. Chloe’s and Lucas's gazes are glued to Christopher's headrest, and I swear they seem to be holding their breaths. The man in question also notices the unnatural silence, shooting me an alarmed look.