Tempted

by Brandi Evans

  “Seth! Yes, come in, come in,” she called back, almost tripping over her own feet as she leapt from the couch on her rush to the stairwell.

  So much for stepping back and getting a better grip on your emotions.

  She rounded the corner just as Seth stepped from the stairwell, a bag from Betty’s Bakery in his left arm, a bouquet of lilies in his right. The scent of sweet blueberry reached up and tickled her nose. How did he know Betty’s blueberry muffins were her favorite?

  Mom, duh.

  “I’m late,” he said. “I’m sorry. After I left your parents’ this morning, time got away from me I guess.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. God, he looked even cuter now than last night, his brown eyes even more alluring.

  He offered her the lilies and the bag of muffins. “I didn’t know if I’d have to do any groveling for being late. Your dad said these were your favorites.”

  Her dad? Giving advice on his Lil’ Lynds’ food faves? Didn’t seem possible. “Thank you.”

  He looked over Lyndi’s shoulder. “Morning again, Traci.”

  “Right back at ya,” Traci answered with a sly smile then made a show of looking at a nonexistent wristwatch. “Well, look at the time. I have a doctor’s appointment at nine-thirty so I’d better get going.”

  Lyndi rolled her eyes.

  When Traci walked by, she leaned close to Lyndi and whispered, “Don’t forget to use condoms this time, okay?”

  “I won’t.” Lyndi gave Trace a playful push toward the stairs, but before she took her first step down, Seth took her by the elbow.

  “These stairs are pretty steep. Let me help you down.”

  As she watched her lover help her super-preggers sis down the stairs, Lyndi fought back a sudden rush of tears. Seth the protector. He was too-sexy-to-be-true awesome. She wanted to be much more to this man than just a vacation fuck.

  As if she needed more proof she was an emotional goner.

  When he returned, she stepped back and motioned him into her apartment. “Come on in. I’ll put these in, uh, some water. My place isn’t much, but I love it.”

  “I can see why. It’s very open, very free.”

  She grabbed a vase from under the sink and tried to observe her apartment like someone seeing it for the first time.

  The space was very open indeed, despite its limited size, thanks to the fact one of the “walls” was little more than a chest-high balcony overlooking her studio. A small but adequate kitchenette sat to the right. Living area with sofa, coffee table and recliner took the center of the space. Lastly, her queen-sized bed, with its pastel quilt, ornate headboard and matching nightstands, finished out the left side of the room.

  “It’s not much, I know,” she said, setting the flowers on the counter. “It’s all I really need though. I bought it mainly because of the space downstairs. My gallery and personal studio.”

  “I hope I’ll get a personal tour.” He moved to the railing and looked down at her studio. “I’m guessing you can access the downstairs from the loft? I didn’t notice a second door or anything when I was on my way up.”

  She pointed to the double doors on the far wall, next to the fridge. “That’s the freight elevator and it goes down to the studio. The doors on either side of the elevator require password access to keep out unwanted visitors. I had them installed right after I bought the place.”

  “Nice.”

  She set the vase on the counter and started arranging flowers. “Make yourself comfortable while I get these beautiful lilies into some water.” She pointed to her fridge. “Would you like a drink? I make a mean mimosa.”

  “No thank you. I don’t drink alcohol. I wouldn’t mind a glass of OJ though.”

  “You don’t—” Lyndi stopped arranging flowers mid-sentence. “What?”

  Those words made no sense to her. Who didn’t drink? At least a little bit every once in a while? Dad didn’t drink, of course, but he was a recovering…

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, turning from the flowers and reaching for Seth. “You’re an alcoholic, aren’t you? I’m sorry I didn’t—”

  He shook his head, his smile amused. “I’m not an alcoholic, Lyn. I just don’t drink. Never have.”

  “Just don’t…really?” Did her eyes just bug out of her head or was that her imagination? “Never? As in never ever?”

  “Nope.” He leaned his big frame on the counter next to her, looking way sexier than any human should be allowed to look. “Never saw the benefit.”

  “Never saw the benefit? Never saw the…” She shook her head. Soft-spoken, tortured past he didn’t want to talk about, a lover of the arts and he didn’t drink. Had she actually found a bona fide gentleman? “You drink to loosen up, Seth. To help calm the voices in your head that keep telling you that you need to work a little longer, get a little more work done.”

  Dull the pain so it doesn’t feel as if it’s about to crush you alive.

  She didn’t tack on the last part. She didn’t need nor want that particular reminder. Too painful.

  Seth shook his head, low-rumbling laughter in his throat. “So that’s how to get rid of the voices. Huh. If only I’d known earlier.”

  Lyndi couldn’t stop from laughing too. When Seth smiled and joked, it was just too damn easy to forget all the problems and possible baggage he brought with him.

  “Actually,” he said, “I prefer meditation to help me relax.”

  “Meditation?” This time, she was sure her eyes popped from their sockets. “As in candles, sounds of the ocean…saying ommmm?”

  “Well, I don’t typically say ommmm, and I prefer the scent of nature over the smell of artificial aromas. The middle of the forest, a beach at sunrise, a secluded mountain cliff, vanilla orchid fields. When trying to get in tune with nature, I find it best to become a part of nature.” Smiling, he reached out to drag a knuckle down the side of her cheek. The heated sensation accompanying his touch set out on a leisurely journey through her body and she couldn’t help herself from moving even closer.

  Seth was a magnet—a hot, dreamy magnet who had opened up to her, even if it wasn’t much. His past might still be a mystery but she’d take this tiny victory. Knowing he meditated and didn’t drink said a lot about the man. Maybe tomorrow—please God let him be around tomorrow—she’d get him to open up more.

  He slipped his arms around her, drew her tight against his mountainous body, his face turning serious. “I should have said this when I got here but… I’ve been thinking about you all damn morning.”

  “Really?” God, it was a stupid question, but she kind of felt a little stupid right now.

  Stupid in love.

  He didn’t use words to answer, he used his lips. His kiss was little more than a quick, soft peck but it kick-started her libido. “I was really, really hoping to spend the rest of the day lost in your body, Lyn and forget about everything else.”

  That was it, the final nail in her restraint. She was done fighting, questioning. He’d probably break her heart in a few days, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from falling for this man any more than she could stop her body from requiring oxygen.

  Somehow, someway, she’d make this work between them—but to do that, she needed to charm the pants off him. Literally.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and captured his lips with hers. His strong arms lifted her until her legs dangled. Before she could take her next breath, they were across the room and kneeling on the bed. She pushed off his jacket, peeled off his shirt, exposing the hard plane of his chest to her greedy eyes.

  The thick lines of his pecs were strong and harsh. And oh-my-fucking-God, where they met the top of his chiseled abs—was it possible for such perfection to exist? Apparently. She was ogling it right now.

  Slow down. The explosions of pure passion last night had been great, but today she wanted to explore every inch of the powerful man darkness had hidden from her. She wanted to indulge in each line and contour of hi
s body, commit them all to memory.

  She couldn’t stop her fingertips from tracing along the contoured surface. He was like curved steel with a layer of flesh pulled taut across the surface. “I really need to paint you,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off a chest that could very well have been the inspiration of Michelangelo’s David.

  No, David was a couch-potato with a beer belly compared to Seth.

  “You want to paint me right now?” He grabbed the hem of her tank and tugged, mischief lacing his voice. The trouble in his eyes sent a jolt of arousal between her legs.

  She laughed, lifting her arms so he could pull the cotton free. “Well, if we wait much longer, the portrait’s gonna end up being a nude,” she teased.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll think about it?” Laughing, she popped the button of his pants, peeled down the zipper and reached inside to wrap her fingers around his stiff cock. “I can be very persuasive, ya know?”

  “We’ll see about that.” He brushed the hair from her shoulders and pressed his lips against the sensitive dip above her collarbone.

  “Mmm, I like that.” Oh-so-slowly she stroked his length, reveling in the feel of him in her hands. “The way your lips and tongue work together. Of course, I liked the combo better when you applied it to more intimate parts of my body.”

  “Like your pussy?”

  “That’s one place, yes,” she murmured.

  He laughed, a deep-throat rumble that vibrated all the way to said body part.

  Moisture leaked from her slit and dampened the lining of her panties—she really needed to lose that particular garment but not until Seth lost his. “Lay back.”

  “In a minute…” He licked his way over her collarbone, down the center of her chest, stopping in the valley between her breasts. The tip of his tongue traced along the underside of the mound, thoroughly working its way to her nipple.

  She moaned and he sucked the peak into his mouth, savoring her like he’d never wanted another woman as much as he wanted her. It was such a mother-fucking turn-on. And she needed to put a stop to it.

  “Okay, Seth, I’m serious. Lay back.” She released his length, and palms to his chest, pushed him backward. When he landed, the bed squeaked, shaking under his super-large frame. “Thank you.”

  Since his pants were already unfastened, one good yank sent them flying. Boxers too. And Lyndi froze.

  Mary Mother of God. Seth naked on her bed, sprawled out in all his manly glory was, was, was…

  “Extraordinary,” she breathed.

  If given more time, she might’ve been able to come up with a better, sexier adjective to describe him but “extraordinary” totally worked. The way the skin of his torso molded over every muscle. All those perfect lines and contours, colors and texture.

  The view got better when her gaze ventured lower. He had the thighs of an athlete, powerful and solid. And his cock… She’d said it best last night. Impressive. Very, very impressive. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna need to paint you. Right here in my bed…naked. For posterity, of course.”

  “Will you be nude too when you paint me?” He stuffed a pillow behind his head, interlaced his fingers behind his neck. He was a portrait of total arrogance, posing for her erotic pleasure.

  The muscles of his biceps bulged—big, beautiful and begging for her lips to trace each hard curve. Mmm-mmm.

  “What do you say we forgo the painting altogether,” Seth murmured, “and just use a video camera? It’s simpler and we can relive this moment over and over and over.”

  She knew he was joking. Mostly. Yet as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the inside of his right upper arm, she found herself considering his voyeuristic request. Seth would look incredible on film, no doubt about it. Her?

  Not so much. Especially when her partner looked like a shoo-in for Mr. Universe and she looked like, well, Lyndi Garrison.

  Still, she couldn’t help but carry on the banter. “I’d rather relive fucking you by actually, ya know, fucking you over and over again, but for argument’s sake, let’s say I said yes. What would you like to do on our first recorded romp?”

  “Hmm. Hard to narrow down those options.”

  Her tongue drew one last small circle over the flexed muscle of his biceps and then started moving again. He smelled good—like a salty, breezy ocean morning—and tasted even better. Did the rest of his hard, uh, muscles taste this incredible?

  Her mouth practically watered to indulge in his cock, but somehow she managed to keep her exploration slow. She stopped to swirl her tongue over his flat nipple and then inside his bellybutton.

  “Pretend the camera’s on us right now,” she said. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

  “Well, you could start by making good on the little promise you made me last night.”

  I think I’ll go down on you first, ya know…even up the orgasmic count for the night. I’m dying to get my mouth on your cock.

  Oh, yeah. She would so make good on that promise.

  At least the going-down-on-him part. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold off her blistering need to take his thick cock inside her and ride him until they came together. Hot and sweaty—

  And if she kept thinking like that she definitely wouldn’t last long.

  Scooting down the bed, she forced what was left of her dwindling brainpower to think of only Seth’s pleasure. She ran her fingers along his inner thighs and cupped his balls, careful to keep her mouth out of contact with his package.

  Her body buzzed in protest of her restraint but she held firm to her decision. She would take her time with him, taste him, torture him. Her self-control would make the reward of his cock that much sweeter.

  She opened her mouth, skimmed her lips along the warm skin of his erection, breathing in his musky, male scent and exhaling hot, moist air.

  “Mmm, Lyn…”

  The sound of his gravelly moan? The ultimate turn-on. Knowing she held that kind of power over him?

  Priceless.

  Making sure his balls didn’t feel left out, she mouthed the orbs with the same contact-no-contact touch. In this position, his cock lay heavy and hard against her cheek. Temptation begged her to turn her head and swallow his dick whole. She stopped herself.

  Man oh man, restraining herself was harder to do than she’d thought. Why do you have to be so fuckingly, irresistibly mouthwatering, Seth Jones?

  She skimmed her lips back up his length, to his glans. His thighs tensed in expectancy, hardening against her breasts as she leaned deeper over him. The crinkly hair of his upper legs rubbed over her nipples, sending little shots of arousal right to her already screaming pussy.

  She circled the outer edges of her lips along his tip, as if she were using the forming drip of salty-sweet liquid seeping from his slit as lip balm—and boy were her lips dry. One loop, then two. That was all she could stand before the need to taste him truly overwhelmed her.

  Gripping the base of his sex with both hands, she swallowed his head and dipped her tongue into his leaking opening. His cock pulsed in her hands, in her mouth and she devoured every drop of delicious pre-cum.

  How much longer could she stand this?

  She released him but didn’t pull back far. “Calm down,” she murmured to herself, turning her head to rub her cheek along his satin-coated hardness, breathing in the masculine scent of his intense arousal.

  He laughed, his fingers lacing in her hair. He didn’t try to direct her mouth back to his erection—just cradled her scalp. His breath was harsh as he spoke. “Remember, Lyn, turnabout—”

  “Is fair play? Yeah, I’m banking on that.” She peered up at him through her lashes, turned her head and traced her tongue over the thick nerve that ran the length of his shaft.

  His eyes rolled back in his head, his face frozen as if he were already on the brink of orgasm.

  God, she might as well be pleasuring herself.

  Chapter Six

&nbs
p; Heaven.

  Being with Lyndi, at her mercy, spinning faster and faster in the funnel of her love until he was delirious with need… Yes, this was indeed Heaven, and as far as he was concerned, being with her like this was enough. More than enough.

  He’d stay here for the rest of eternity if he could, but Fate was a cruel mistress who got off on the harsh curveballs she threw at the unprepared subjects who populated her kingdom—and the kingdom was indeed hers. No one was immune to her cruelty either. Not even him. And she’d struck him in the cruelest way possible.

  Through Lyndi.

  Sorrow and guilt mingled in his chest. How was he supposed to arrange the violent death of the woman he loved?

  And he did love her. The realization had struck him like a lightning bolt to the heart when he’d picked up his assignment list and her beautiful name sat amidst the rest of the doomed.

  When he’d showed up at her door, he’d planned to tell her everything, not fall straight into bed with her, but when she’d kissed him in the kitchen, his dick had taken over. Now his dick was being rewarded.

  At the expense of his conscience.

  He took back his earlier sentiment. This wasn’t Heaven—it was Hell. Being so close to happiness but knowing the joy he saw on the horizon was a fucking mirage.

  He forced the tragic thoughts from his mind. This might be the last time he ever had with her—with his Lyndi. He didn’t want to ruin the experience by being way too deep in his own messed-up head.

  Lyndi slid his cock deep into her hot, wet mouth, her tongue lavishing him as she bobbed up and down his shaft, sucking as she came up, releasing as she went down. His balls tightened, drew in toward his body. Fuck, he’d never experienced anything so exquisite in his several thousand millennia.

  If he could trade his immortal body for this human one, he’d do it in a heartbeat.