He holds me tighter.
His breath hitches as he moves faster, harder. His eyelids press together. Groans escape his lips.
He's almost there.
He squeezes me tighter. Presses me against the wall.
There.
An orgasm overtakes him. He groans, digging his fingers into my skin as he comes inside me.
I collapse into his arms. Still, he holds me tight, pressing me against the wall. I unhook my legs and plant my feet on the floor.
Blake runs his fingertips over my chin, tilting it so we're eye to eye. "I love you."
I press my lips to his. "I love you too."
After dinner at the Thai restaurant down the street, we climb into the limo.
Blake pulls a blindfold from the seatback pocket and places it over my eyes. "The next destination is a surprise."
"What kind of surprise?"
He kisses my neck. "Not that kind. Not yet."
I lean back onto the bench seat. Okay. Our destination is a surprise, and we're not spending the trip having sex. "Want to give me a clue?"
"No."
I shake my head. "You're so difficult. I shouldn't put up with you."
"You shouldn't."
"Why do I?"
"My body."
I laugh. "Not your money?"
"No. It's the sex."
"It helps."
"Only helps?"
"I also happen to adore you."
"Not as much as I adore you."
Blake slides onto the bench seat next to me, trailing his fingertips up and down my inner thigh, right under the hem of my skirt.
So, so close.
I yelp when the limo stops and he pulls his hand away.
"You can take it off," he says.
I pull the blindfold over my head, toss it aside, and step out of the limo.
We're in Midtown, in front of a tall building. The Empire State Building. It's blue and white today.
"For your first day of school," he says. "The whole city is celebrating you."
"It's celebrating the college, and it was purple for NYU yesterday."
He takes my hand and leads me into the building. It's past the hours for the observation deck, but a little thing like that would never stop Blake. He motions hello to the guard and steps into the elevator.
"Last time I checked, you're not afraid of heights," he says.
"Not at all." There's nothing like the rush you get from being up in the clouds.
He waves a key card at the elevator and presses the button for the observation deck. I don't even ask myself how he does these things anymore. It's some rich person trick.
It's just like when I was a kid. The elevator goes so many stories so fast that my ears pop. I swallow three time to unpop them. Ah. Finally.
The doors slide open, and we step outside. The entire observation deck is empty save for a lone security guard in the corner.
I press the double doors open and step onto the deck balcony. It's windy up here but the air is warm. Perfect September weather. Perfect for the city.
The sun is setting behind us. It sets so late this time of year. Blake slides his arm around my hips as I squeeze the guardrail. The city is all around us, and it's beautiful.
A smile creeps onto his lips. He brushes the hair from my eyes again. He laughs as the wind blows it back. "That shows me."
He pulls me away from the edge, so we're in the middle of the deck.
Blake's eyes find mine. He looks at the concrete. It's almost like he's nervous, but that can't be possible. Blake Sterling doesn't get nervous.
"Let's hope this goes better than last time." He takes my hand and drops to one knee.
Holy shit.
"Kat Wilder, I'm madly in love with you, and the only thing missing in my life—" he pulls a ring box from his pocket and pops it open "—is making you my wife."
I stare at the ring.
"It's the same one," he admits. "It really does suit you."
I reach for the words. My voice cracks. "Yes. Of course."
He slides the ring on my finger.
I tug at his hands, pulling him to his feet. He slides his arms around me, leans in close, and kisses me.
He kisses me like he never wants to come up for air.
Tempting Teaser
He’s my best friend’s older brother. He’s off-limits. But when I find the brooding tattoo artist’s sketchbook full of dirty drawings—drawings of me—I can’t resist.
Chapter One
Brendon
Get Tempting Now
Kaylee plants her palms on the table. Her cheeks spread to her ears. They're pink. Then red. She's laughing so hard her tits are shaking.
Damn, that tight blue dress, the same blue as her glasses.
She looks amazing, like the sweet, innocent angel she is and like the sex goddess I'm desperate to unleash.
But I still hate that scrap of fabric with every fiber of my being.
I hate every ounce of air between us.
Every flint of wood in this table.
Every guy here looking at her the way I am.
Fuck, if I don't get ahold of myself, I'm going to break a few arms. And maybe my hand. And I can't exactly finish Alex's back piece at nine a.m. tomorrow with broken fingers.
Em wraps her arms around Kaylee.
Kaylee laughs, pushing her long blond hair behind her ears and gathering it at one shoulder.
Her eyes flit around the room.
They catch mine.
They scream I'm about to wish for you to take me to your room.
Or maybe that's in my head.
Today is the day.
She's no longer a temptation that can get me locked up. Just a temptation that can rip away everything that matters to me.
Em leans in to whisper in her ear. I know my sister. I know exactly what she's saying. Wish for someone to fuck tonight.
Not happening.
Not as long as I'm here.
I hate to be a cunt-blocker, really, I do, but there's no way Kaylee is taking home anyone on my watch.
I have no idea how she's managed to stay single this long.
She's beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. And innocent... fuck, the way her cheeks are blushing.
The way she's leaning over the table, letting her eyelids fall together, parting her lips...
I could teach her so many things.
I could teach her everything.
But I can't.
She's my sister's best friend.
And as much as Em is a brat, she's all the family I've got.
These two are the most important people in my life.
My cock is going to have to cool it.
It's not getting anywhere near Kaylee.
I sit on the Kelly green deck chair, the one under the old lamp with the too yellow bulb.
Even though we're in one of the most crowded cities in Southern California, the beach is empty. Still. All the voices and laughter are coming from the house. The roar of the ocean isn't enough to muffle the party.
I should head inside and kick out Emma's friends. Insist on driving Kaylee back to her place. Lecture both of them about drinking too much.
But I'm not in the mood to play Dad today. I'm tired of playing Dad, period. Emma and I never got along, not exactly, but we used to have a rapport. We were a team. A you're annoying, but not quite as annoying as Mom or Dad team, but we were still a fucking team.
Now, the majority of my relationship is lecturing her and yelling some equivalent of go to your room.
And her yelling back you're not my dad.
I force myself to look out at the ocean.
It's beautiful. Dark water. Soft sand. Stars bright enough to shine against the black sky but dulled by light pollution all the same.
None of it distracts me.
None of the eight million things going on in my life distract me.
I need a way to get Kaylee out of my head. I've tried everything—work, pl
ay, other women, fucking myself, not fucking myself.
Nothing helps.
I pull out my sketchbook and flick my pen a few times. A few more. My warm up sketch is a messy abstract shape. It means something, I'm sure, but I don't have a clue what that is.
I turn the page. Outline the octopus going on Will's bicep tomorrow afternoon. Attempt to fill in the shading.
The details don't come. The only image in my mind is Kaylee. The brightness in her green eyes, the smile spreading over her pink lips, that coy hip tilt. Like she knows how badly I want my hands on those hips.
Like she's going to roll that dress up her thighs, plant her palms on the table, and shoot me a please, fuck me now look.
I don't need a tattoo mockup.
I need her naked in my bed.
"Hey." The side door slides open and Kaylee steps outside. Her steps aren't soft the way they normally are.