More Than Tempt You

by Shayla Black

  With a tug, I pull her body against mine. We crash together. I lower my mouth to hers and shove her lips apart with my own. I’m not patient. I need this woman in a way I don’t understand. I want to be the one to give her pleasure and comfort and whatever else she requires.

  When Bethany melts against me and surrenders herself to the kiss, I wrap my arms around her and lift her from the floor, urging her legs around my waist. She all but climbs my body, tightens her grip on me, and deepens our kiss.

  Fuck yes.

  The minute we reach the bed, I set her flat on her back, crawl onto the mattress above her, and strip away my T-shirt. “All I could think about all evening was replacing the memory of Lund’s touch with mine.”

  She pauses unbuttoning her short-sleeve sweater to caress my face. “I wasn’t thinking of him at all. I only want you.”

  Her admission does something to me that I can’t ignore or fight.

  Swallowing, I shove her sundress up her thighs, press my entire body onto hers, then grip her hips and lift. I strain to get closer, my cock notching against her sex. At the feel of my erection against the soft pad of her sex, I toss my head back and groan. So, so good. And she’s already damp. I saw the little wet spot on her panties. I swear I can almost feel it through my strangling jeans.

  With a snarl, I stand and tear into my fly, yanking a few condoms from my pocket and slapping all but one on the nightstand.

  Around us, the sounds of the night—frogs, insects, and waves—resonate in the distance. But my breathing is the loudest. It tangles with her gentle pants, which ramp up to a little gasp when I rub my fingers directly over her lace-covered pussy.

  “Take them off.”

  Bethany doesn’t argue, simply shimmies the silken undergarment off her body and lets it fall to the floor. She peels the sweater off, too. The only things between me and her naked body are two spaghetti straps and the soft gray dress they’re holding up.

  “Does this zip in the back?” I tug at the cotton.

  She shakes her head. “It stretches.”

  Even better.

  I flip the strap off of one shoulder. As she shrugs out of the other, I’m aware of her bare pussy inches away. My entire body’s imperative is to be there now—and never leave. But I want to see her nipples, too. I want her breasts bare for me.

  I jerk down on the bodice. The soft cotton strains until her breasts spring free and the dress gathers around her waist. She’s not wearing a bra. I suspected it the second she ditched the sweater. Now that her taut, candy-sweet nipples are inches from me and her naked pussy is even closer, I’m not sure where to start.

  Decisions, decisions…

  I roll the condom on, ignoring my shaking hands, then dive onto the bed beside her, latching onto one of her hard pink crests at the same time my fingers find their way to her clit.

  Bethany whimpers under me, fingers tugging at my hair, hips moving in needy wriggles.

  Her arousal spikes my bloodstream with savage triumph. I’m driven not just to give Bethany pleasure but to surround her, to make her feel wanted and adored. Vital. I want to fill her up so thoroughly that she’ll never seek out Stephen Lund or any other man for comfort. She won’t find it in their empty touches. And I will make damn sure she thinks twice about having a meaningless fling with a client—or anyone else—again.

  Yeah, that’s lofty and irrational. I know. But I can’t control my urges right now. I’m not even going to try.

  “Beth…” I breathe against her skin before I pluck her other nipple with my lips and teeth, then follow that up by sliding excruciatingly slow circles around her clit.

  “Clint…” Her breath hitches. “Oh… What are you doing to me?”

  “Making you feel good. Do you like it?”

  “Yes.”

  She sounds breathy, aroused. It turns me on more.

  “Good. Tell me when you’re close to coming.”

  “I’m almost there,” she admits. “I don’t understand.”

  “What?” The explosive chemistry between us?

  “I hardly liked sex before you. But today, I thought of almost nothing else.”

  Oh, fuck if that doesn’t flip my switch even more. “I thought about you, too, sweetheart. Your lips, your soft skin, the way you toss your head back when you’re trying to fight the rising need to scream, the way your eyes turn so green before you come. Like now.”

  I can see her under the moonlight streaming in. The silvery beams illuminating her also show me how dilated her pupils are and how hazy her expression has turned.

  “Clint!”

  “I’m here. God, you’re so fucking sexy.” If my brain could focus on something other than arousing her, maybe I’d be more eloquent about the soft, slick pad under my fingers and her nipples stabbing desperately in my direction. But all my body knows is that she’s ready for me to sink into her. “I want to put my hands and mouth everywhere.”

  “No.” She shakes her head frantically, nails digging into my shoulders. “Inside me. Now.”

  I’ll never turn down that invitation.

  I vault over her thigh, between her legs, and grip her knees, settling them around my hips. Then I’m pushing my way inside her. The hot, slick walls of her pussy threaten to dissolve my self-control. But I’m spellbound by more than the physical pleasure of sex. Her arms encircle me, opening to me, welcoming me. Wanting me. As I penetrate her, Bethany presses kisses across my jaw until she catches the corner of my lips with her own.

  All bets are off then. I slant my mouth over hers and slide deep inside as I surge forward the last few inches and take complete possession of her body. She arches up and cries out, legs spreading wider under me, silently begging me for more.

  I clutch her hips, hoping like fuck I won’t leave bruises, then I crash into her in every way possible, stroke after long, rapid stroke. My skin is burning. My libido is lit up. Every part of me is utterly on fire for this woman. I hate to put a name to what I feel for her…but I’m more than a little worried I’ve fallen in love.

  Seconds later, she’s tightening and bucking underneath me, clutching me as if she can’t get close enough, and calling out to me in shrill cries that send shivers skittering across my skin. With a growl, I grip her hair, force her to stare into my eyes.

  As I watch her come, ecstasy implodes me.

  With a chest-deep groan, I bury my face in her neck and let go of everything, especially my sanity. I ride her through an agonizing, clawing climax that’s the most fucking intense thing I’ve ever felt. My head is swimming, my senses reeling. And still I pound and press my way deeper, shaking and growling and holding her like I’ll never let go.

  When it’s over, I’m panting, blinking. Stunned.

  Son of a bitch.

  I look down at Bethany—and freeze when I see tears seeping from the corners of her eyes.

  “Sweetheart?”

  She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re crying.”

  “You make me feel things…” She gives me the most heartbreaking smile. “You don’t know how amazing and confusing that is.”

  I don’t.

  Swallowing, I smooth the hair back from her face. “Tell me.”

  “Don’t you want to get up, get dressed…”

  And put space between us?

  “No.” I’m still inside her, still connected to her. “Is this too intimate for you?”

  She hesitates. “I’m not used to it. I’m not used to any of this. Where have you been for the last ten years?”

  The humor she tries to inject into her question is unmistakable, but I hear it for the plea it really is. Something is going on in her head. In her heart. If she’s half as caught up in me as I am in her… Yeah, that makes me want to celebrate. But it also terrifies me. What happens when she finds out why I sought her out in the first place?

  “Wishing I knew you,” I tell her softly. Until I can find a way to be honest about everything
else, I can be honest with my feelings.

  Her smile that turns into tears rips at my chest. “If I’d known you all this time, it would have saved me a lot of pain.”

  Bethany is so open right now. She wants to tell me things. The yearning to share is on her face. I feel guilty as hell for even encouraging her. On the other hand, if I had zero agenda other than to love this woman, I would still be coaxing her to spill everything to me.

  “You keep saying these things that break my heart. Tell me why. Let me take some of the pain.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s not your problem, and you don’t want it.”

  “I do.” I press a soft kiss to her mouth. “Tell me what hurts you. I’ll hold you. We’ll work it out.”

  “I don’t want you to look at me differently afterward.”

  “Beth, you aren’t your past. You are your heart.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I stop. My world tilts on its axis in a dizzying sway before slowly righting itself. What I just admitted to her—and myself—is that I no longer measure her by what happened before we met. Whatever she was involved in previously doesn’t define my feelings for her. I might not know every single thing about Bethany Banks, but I know her on some deep level that I’m not sure many do. Past transgressions, if she’s even guilty in the Reed Financial scheme—that wasn’t her. This woman who’s still holding me and doing her brave best to fight tears is.

  Gently, I withdraw from her, dispose of the condom, then return to gather her in my arms.

  “You’re amazing,” she whispers. “You’re the first man I believe genuinely wants to know how I feel.”

  “You’re so warm and beautiful, and I’m struggling to understand how every man you’ve ever spent time with didn’t see that and didn’t care.”

  “It’s…complicated. Dalton? My first…”

  “Your father set you up on a date?”

  “It wasn’t a date.” She swallows. “It was a business transaction. I was fresh out of grad school. Dalton was thirty-five. A new tech billionaire. Dad sent me to dinner with him, told me to be friendly, give him whatever he wanted, and not to come home until he agreed to invest with us. I was naive. I thought Dad meant let the man order lobster and for me to laugh at all his jokes. I thought he meant to be persistent.”

  Sick, roiling nausea slides through me. I know exactly where this is going.

  “Your own father pimped you out?”

  Her tiny nod is full of shame. “I felt flattered by Dalton’s advances. Well, at first. I had a crush on him when Dad introduced us. The fact that someone obviously well-respected and urbane liked me? I was thrilled. When I say it now, I sound stupid, but I grew up sheltered.”

  “It’s not your fault. He took advantage of you.”

  “Maybe, but I let him. After all the wining, dining, and conversation, he took me to his hotel room. The sex was horrible. It hurt. He thanked me for my virginity, then rolled over and called my dad to give him the account. Even then, I didn’t get it. After that, he dialed his wife, told her that he loved her, turned out the lights, and rolled over. I was so stunned. I didn’t know he was married.”

  “What a dirtbag.” I’m completely furious on her behalf.

  “As soon as he fell asleep, I cried. I eventually slept. But when I woke up, he was gone. The next time I saw him was at a big holiday bash we threw for our clients. He brought his beautiful wife and shook my hand as if he barely knew me. I was so humiliated.”

  Forget furious. I want to kill this guy. What an absolute prick. But he’s a symptom, not the problem.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. What did your father say?”

  “That I did a good job. In fact, he patted me on the back for being smart enough to know that business and sex mix just fine. He chastised me for letting silly emotions get in the way, of course. Then I got the speech about how there was no such thing as love, just power and control and having the balls to use the weapons at your disposal to wield them.”

  What kind of man uses his daughter’s innocence and self-respect to make a buck? “He sounds like a goddamn monster.”

  She gives me a little shrug. “He is who he is, driven and detached. Since Dalton brought a ton of prestige and cash to the organization at a time we needed it, it was hard not to see Dad’s point. So I buried how I felt and carried on.” She closes her eyes. “Dalton was the first. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the last.”

  Oh, my god. How many random VIPs did her father coerce her into getting naked with? How has she coped? I can’t imagine what letting people use her did to Bethany’s psyche. No wonder she never felt real pleasure. I’m also not surprised she sought Lund out. Who could blame her for wanting sex on her terms? Or wanting to know if being with someone she at least liked would be different? I’m thrilled she responds so totally to me. That must say something about her feelings, right?

  If I don’t find the gentlest way possible to explain why I pursued her and why I’ve completely changed my mind, the enormity of my betrayal… Fuck. It will crush her. And I doubt Bethany will never forgive me.

  “What do you mean? There were…others?”

  “Yeah.” And she doesn’t sound proud of that. “Dad occasionally asked me to close deals with other reluctant investors. Anytime I hesitated, he would tell me how much he needed me and how proud he was of me. So I didn’t always say no when I should have.” She winces. “It sounds horrible. I never wanted you to know because I didn’t want you to lose respect for me. I swear, it didn’t happen often. And it’s been years since a client touched me. After a while, I became less naive and more savvy. I figured out ways to persuade a potential investor to sign without crawling between the sheets.”

  “Oh, my god…” I’m astounded by all the ways this man used his daughter. And I hate that she ever let him get away with it because it’s clearly taken a toll on her. It’s also probably why she developed a thick outer shell that I’ve had trouble cracking—until now. “Oh, sweetheart.”

  “I hope that also explains why I had sex with Paul Daniels,” she murmurs.

  “Who?”

  “Mr. Loud Hawaiian Shirt.”

  “He didn’t tell me his name,” I say numbly.

  “But he told you we fucked, I’m sure.” She wrenches out of my arms and rises to pace. “He was a big prick when we met. I knew my dad was going to ask me to ‘finesse’ him. Turned out he had a little prick when it counted. But he also had hundreds of millions of dollars. That’s all the reason my father needed to unleash ‘his secret weapon.’ That’s what he called me, you know.”

  Dumbfounded, I sit back. “Your father deserves to die.”

  “He’ll probably spend the rest of his life in prison. That’s some consolation.”

  “That’s not enough for the shit he put you through.”

  “Well, I should have refused, and I’m hardly the only one he hurt. In the last couple of weeks, I learned he’s heaped misery on all my siblings. I don’t know if prison time will be justice, but at least he’ll be away from us. Hopefully, we’ll all find solace in that.”

  She sounds torn and a little sad.

  I don’t understand. “You’re not going to miss him?”

  Her hesitation shocks me.

  “I miss the man I thought I grew up with. He seemed to nurture and praise me. I was so starved for attention as a kid that I soaked him up like a sponge. Looking back, I see that he cultivated my intelligence because he always intended to put me to work. He was just waiting for me to grow up and finish school so I could be another tool in his box to expand his wealth and power.”

  The way she describes him, I can’t imagine that she knew or had anything to do with his financial scheme. It sounds as if he was perfectly capable of screwing any and all of the people around him. No doubt he was happy to have a variety of pawns, including his own daughter, to shuffle in whatever way benefitted him most. The anger and disillusionment she must be feeling… It’s no wonder she’s been closed and
guarded. It’s a shock she’s opening up to me at all.

  And I feel like an utter shit for not being honest with her in return.

  I’ve got to be. Now isn’t the time. It will sully this moment where she’s finally allowing herself to purge her hurt. She won’t remember that I’m trying to console her or that I’m in her corner. She’ll just hate me—with good reason.

  Could this situation get any more fucked up?

  I gather Bethany against me and hold her protectively, silently telling her that I’ll be her buffer from her dad and the users who took advantage of her for a moment’s pleasure. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. I was always close to my dad, so to wake up one day and realize he’s not who I thought… How did it not shatter you?”

  “The one useful thing he taught me is how to compartmentalize. I’ve cried. I’m sure I’ll cry again.” She sniffles. “Maybe now if you don’t stop making me so mushy. But I won’t let him prevail. That’s the other valuable lesson I learned from him. The last person standing wins. This time, that’s going to be me.”

  “You’re so strong. I’m proud of you. Never forget, you’re better than that son of a bitch. I have no doubt you’ll beat him. And I promise I’ll be beside you.”

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that. I was so afraid that if you knew the truth, you would judge me.” Her voice drops. “That you would rebuff me.”

  For the first time, she initiates affection by throwing her arms around me. My heart wrenches. Fuck the past. From now on, I’m going to take care of her. I’m going to live up to my word. And when I tell her the truth, I’m going to hope that she’ll show me understanding and empathy. Then I’ll tell her what I’ve been suspecting all day.

  I’ll tell her that I’m in love with her.

  Two days later, I stand across the kitchen from Maxon, who’s glaring at me. For the third morning in a row. I’d like to believe he’s just grouchy because he’s suffering from new-parent sleep withdrawal, but I’m pretty sure he’s pissed at me. After all, I disregarded all his warnings about Bethany’s fragility and took her to bed anyway.

  If he knew the truth, he’d probably punch my face. And I feel so shitty about deceiving Bethany I would let him.