Attainment (The Temptation Series) (2 page)

“What are you thinking
about?” Alexis says, once again breaking me out of my trip to ‘miles away’.

“Our son. Our home. Our
future,” I honestly answer.

“And...?”

I quickly glance at her,
curious of her questioning tone.

“And...I have a lot to do.
The apartment should be finished in a few weeks and I want it to be perfect
before we move back in.”

She reaches over and touches
my face. I love her soft touch. “Bryce, it will be. I have no doubt. Please
stop worrying about that.”

I release one hand from the
steering wheel and take a hold of hers, pressing my lips to her wrist. “I love
you.”

“I know you do,” she smiles.
“And I love you, too.”

Feeling bold and knowing she
is in a very good mood, I broach an off-limits topic. “Are you sure you don’t
want to get married sooner? I know you want to wait but—“

“Bryce, we’ve talked about
this. You know I can’t wait to be your wife. But after everything that has
happened, and with BB on the way, I just think we need to slow down a bit and
enjoy the ride.”

“BB?”

“Well...yeah,” she coyly
hesitates.
Damn, she’s cute.
“BB...as in Baby Bryce.” She gently
caresses her stomach, filling me with so much fucking love for this woman I can
barely breathe.

“Baby Bryce?” I repeat,
unable to contain my grin.

“Yes.”

I continue to drive, silence
now swirling around us. Every couple of seconds I glance at her, knowing she is
watching my reaction.

“You know, Mr Clark...” her
tone now lowered, sounding sexy as hell. “When you smile like that it makes me
want to climb onto your lap.”

“Hunny, you are a threat to
road safety. You really need to get in control of that.”

“Then stop grinning that
sex-on-a-stick grin. I just want to lick it.”

“I can’t stop. You have that
effect on me.”

“I know. So, it appears we
have a predicament.”

“We do.”

She leans over and slides her
hand across my thigh, stopping on top of the hard mound in my pants.

“Alexis,” I growl in warning.
Bloody hell, she drives me wild.

She gives me a firm squeeze
while answering in an innocently sweet voice. “Yes?”

Swallowing heavily, I rein in
the serious wood that is forming beneath her hand. “You better start thinking
of all the ways you want to be fucked. Because when we get home, we are going
to be performing each and every one of them.”

CHAPTER TWO

Experiencing confliction with one’s self, when you think
about it, is kind of absurd. But despite that absurdity, we all subject
ourselves to this illogical torment at more than one point in our lives. Why?
Well, I would probably put it down to stubbornness, or the inability to be
unyielding, even if that means you then become at war with yourself.

I’m no stranger to being at war—figuratively speaking—having
fought and won many battles in my life. Battles in business, against family,
and even against morality. But fighting a battle against one’s self is not a
battle you intend on losing. The thing is if you are defeated, then you only
have yourself to blame.

***

“Bryce, I know this is hard for you. But you have to talk
about your feelings of guilt if you ever want to get past them.”

I look up from my seated position. Jessica—my psychologist
and family friend—is sitting across from me with her notepad rested on her lap.
She has her reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose and a troubled
expression on her face. It’s quite obvious to me that her concern is due to the
fact that I am not openly discussing what happened with Gareth like she wishes
that I would.

We are both sitting in her office which is situated on Burke
Street in the CBD of Melbourne. It’s a quaint office, furnished with soft
colours, unobtrusive ornaments and feel-good art work, purposefully placed to
make her patients feel comfortable, relaxed and, unbeknown to them, unguarded.
I have been here many times before and am aware of my deceptive surroundings—they
don’t fool me.

“What if I don’t want to get past my guilt? What if I don’t
deserve to?” I respond with determination.

“Guilt is felt by not only the guilty, but more so by those
who feel they deserve it when in fact, they don’t. Guilt can be a humble yet
deceitful emotion.”

“Jessica,” I sigh, deflated and tired as a result of this
session’s conflict. “I know you are trying to help. I know you are trying to
make me see that Gareth’s death was not my fault. The truth of the matter is...it
was. I abandoned him when he really needed me and, on top of that, I nearly
lost Alexis in the process. I deserve this guilt. Please, just let me bear it.”

She places her notepad on the seat next to her and removes
her glasses. “Gareth’s death was not your fault. If it were then it would be
equally mine. Actions have consequences, consequences have results, and
sometimes those results are devastating, as in Gareth’s case.”

Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes and run my hands
through my hair, the pain and memory of my mentally ill cousin’s demise still
too brutally raw.

“Bryce, look at me,” Jessica says with a soft but
authoritative voice.

I open my eyes and find her gaze.

“I’m going to ask you to think about something and then I
want to discuss it next week.”

“Sure,” I respond flippantly with a tinge of arrogance. My
intention is not to be an arsehole, after all, she only means well. It’s just,
I’m exhausted and want to get home to Alexis and find solace in her warm
embrace. Alexis keeps me grounded, she always has and I hope she always will.

“What you’re experiencing is known as ‘unhealthy’ or
‘inappropriate’ guilt. I want you to look at the situation from a different
point of view, put someone else in your shoes. Take Lucy for instance. What if
it were her? Would you find her just as responsible for Gareth’s death? After
all, she too was his cousin. She knew what you knew. She had just as much
influence as you—“

“Jessica,” I snap. “Leave Lucy out of this. It—“

“Bryce!” she interrupts just as abruptly as I had. “Just
think about what I’m saying and we’ll talk about it next week.”

I stand up, not happy with her request to ‘pretend’ to put
Lucy in my place. Gareth’s death had nothing to do with my sister. “Fine, I
will see you next week. When is Alexis due to come in next?”

“Alexis and I have arranged monthly visits now. She tends to
listen to my advice and not be so sceptical of what
you
may feel
are unorthodox suggestions.”

My eye involuntarily twitches and I clench then release my
hand.
Bloody hell, she is on a tirade today.
“I’m glad to hear my fiancé
is dealing with the situation and finding a way to put it behind her. The last
thing she needs is to feel any stress in her current state, so thank you.”

Jessica stands and makes her way toward her desk. “Well, she
is not the only one.”

“Good bye, Jessica,” I respond just as contemptuously.  “I
will see you next week.”

“Bryce,” she says not looking up. “You know that despite
your stubbornness, your mother would still be proud of you.”

I sigh. “You tell me this every time.”

“Well, it’s true. She would, and you need to hear it.”

I head for the door without looking back and give her the
reply that I always do, “Thank you.”  Except this time, I don’t really mean it.

***

A few weeks later, we are standing on the threshold of our
newly refurbished apartment with my hands covering Alexis’ eyes.

“Are you ready?” I ask, drawing out the unveiling of the
renovations.

She urges me forward. “Yes! Yes! Come on, let’s go in.”

Releasing one hand from her eyes, I turn the handle on the
door, opening it for us to walk inside. “Keep them closed until I say,
alright?”

She huffs. “Yes, okay, you are such a control freak.”

“And your problem is?”

“Bryce Edward Clar—“

“Okay, okay,” I chuckle, while holding her back against my
front and slowly shuffling us along the entryway of the apartment. Leaning
down, I slowly and softly whisper into her ear. “You can open them, my love.”

I tilt my head around to get a clearer view of her reaction,
seeing her eyelids flutter and the expression on her face morph from
anticipation to amazement. It’s not as if she had no idea what the newly
refurbished apartment was to look like. Because she did, after all, help
redesign it. I guess that seeing it in the flesh for the first time, together
with the extra little bits and pieces I’ve organised without her knowledge, is
the cause of her happy astonishment.

She steps forward and gazes over the lounge area. “Oh,
Bryce, it’s...it’s...wow! It’s wonderful.”

The layout of the apartment is still relatively the same, except
now there is no step down into the lounge. Alexis wanted to minimise as many
steps as possible, considering a rolling, then crawling, then walking little
person was on their way. The other noticeable change is the softer colour
palette throughout the lower level, and the now child-friendly furniture—no
sharp, sleek lines or edges.

Where there had been greys, whites, blacks and deep blues,
there are now creams, beige, fawn and chocolate browns. I’d arranged for new
family photographs to be enlarged, framed, and displayed on the walls, together
with replica cushions of the ones Alexis went a little cuckoo over when she
left Rick. I’d even arranged for some Twister carpet to be laid in my new
recording studio, which was no longer really fitting to be labelled a ‘recording
studio’. You see, it is now a larger room containing many new toys. Not man
toys...but child toys, including the carpet.

Before Alexis has a chance to move further into the
apartment, I seize her hand gently and spin her around, stepping her backward
until she’s stopped against the entryway wall—my prurient intentions now made
clear by the pressing of my raging hard-on against her hip.

“I believe we need to break in this freshly rebuilt wall,” I
suggest seductively, pinning her arms above her head and grazing my lips across
her ear.

Thoughts of the first time I had her pressed to this very
spot flit across my mind, and it’s obvious to me that I want her now just as much
as I wanted her then...probably even more.

She takes in a sharp breath, pushing her plump breasts into
my chest before exhaling slowly. “What did you have in mind?” she purrs.

Fuuuuuck, I love it when she teases me with her sultry
voice.

“I think a complete re-hash...” I murmur as I lightly lick
the crook of her neck. “...of our first time together is a good start.”

“Start?” she questions, her voice still low and sexy. “We
have to pick up the kids from school soon, Bryce,” she adds, lacking
conviction.

Pulling away from her, I look up to my watch then lean back
in, stopping only centimetres from her mouth. “There’s a lot I can do to you in
the space of an hour,” I say as I watch her lips and how she has no control but
to moisten them with her tongue.

“Good,” she smiles. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Not wanting to waste any time, I slide my tongue into her
mouth, relishing her luscious warmth and silky feel. An uncontrollable growl
resonates from within me, intensifying our fervour and increasing my need to
bury myself inside her. To say I’m completely attuned to her body’s needs is an
understatement. I know what she wants...likes...needs.

Now feeling her legs weaken, I release one of her hands and
hold her hip to steady her. Almost instantly, her newly freed hand finds the back
of my head. The tightened grip on my hair fucking exhilarates me.

“Would you like sex up against the wall again?” I ask on a
whisper.

“Yes, I’m fucking thirsty.”

I pull away, entertained by her response. Obviously, I was
not referring to one of our favourite cocktails, the one which inspired this passionate
position in the first place.

She notices my paused state, giggles, and pulls me back in
for a kiss. “I’m kidding,” she mumbles. “Now, get on your knees. If memory
serves me correctly, you were all about tasting not admiring.”

I shake my head at her sassiness and begin to unbutton her
silk blouse, finding her perfect breasts with my hands. Kneading them with
heightened hunger, I allow my fingers to massage the plump flesh right before
pulling down the cup of her bra and taking her nipple into my mouth. The soft
peak hardens at my touch, eliciting my desperate urge to flick it with my
tongue.

A sharp, uncomfortable, yet fucking sensational ache ripples
through my head as she suddenly grips my hair and tugs ferociously, indicating
her approval of my tongues use.

“You like that?” I murmur around her wet nipple.

“Uh huh.”

“What else do you like?”

Her hands glide down my shirt as she makes her way to my
belt, their journey south such a turn-on. She finds the buckle and, wasting no
time in unlatching it, has my cock in her hands within in seconds. “This...I
like this,” she answers.

Fuck!
The feel of her warm hands on my shaft stimulates
me even further. “So you fucking should,” I growl, a determined new hunger
rolling out of me. I allow her to caress my cock for only a few seconds longer before
my impatience wins over and I strip her of her clothes.

Taking a step back and stepping out of my own pants, I
hungrily take in her gorgeous pregnant form. Her swollen belly is so fucking
beautiful that it has my dick twitching with excitement, knowing that in mere
seconds my hands will be caressing what I see in front of me.

I raise my eye line to her chest. The rhythmic rise and fall
has me intoxicated, together with her eyes which have now become heavy with
desire. It is almost the exact same look she pierced me with the first time we
were in this position.

“You still, and always will, fucking take my breath away,” I
say as I cup her cheek.

She turns in to my hand and closes her eyes, and it’s this
small sign of pure love that has me dropping to my knees before her.

Alexis’ hands find my hair, the corners of her mouth lifting
in a provocative grin.
Fuck! That look does me in every time.

“You want me to taste you, don’t you? To run my tongue in
between your legs while you tug on my hair?”

“Yes,” she breathes out. “Yes, I do.”

Grabbing my head, she threads her fingers through my hair
and coaxes me forward, her yearning desperation now eagerly prompting me to
spread her legs and nudge her clit with my nose.

Alexis sucks in a breath and then exhales. “Oh, Bryce,” she
breathes, as her head drops back against the wall. “Yes, I do want that. I want
it now.”

God! I fucking love it when she moans my name
. The
sound of her quivering approval of my actions always gives me assurance.

Sliding my tongue out, I drag it across her soft skin, sampling
her already aroused pussy, the taste—fucking delightful.  I could eat her
slowly all day, the taste of her at the tip of my tongue—sensational.

Her fingers dig into my scalp in response, and at the same
time my grip tightens on her hips. I swirl my tongue and coax her hips to roll
against my mouth. She obliges and lifts her leg, draping it over my shoulder, prompting
me to increase my tongue’s ferocity as it laps and flicks at her. I could seriously
devour her sweet flavour for hours. Listen to her pant for hours. I could,
quite simply, stay like this for hours.

“Bryce, I...I...oh, God,” she cries out as her body tenses
then shudders while I hold her tight as she comes on my face—one of my
favourite things imaginable.

Sucking her clit into my mouth one final time, I follow it
with a tender kiss then proceed to stand.

“I need you inside me, now!” she demands, her desperation
evident.

Given no time to taste her nipple again, she impatiently grabs
my face and directs her mouth to mine, getting a taste of her own arousal on my
lips. Being a man who loves to eat pussy, there’s just something so incredibly
sexy when a woman tastes herself on your face, and when Alexis does it, I could
honestly die a happy man.

Separating from her hungry kiss, I spin her around and splay
her hands on the wall then gently coax her into a bent position. My cock throbs
with expectant release as I open her up, driving deep inside her. Slowly, I
slide back out, tantalizing her with my hard length. I know she loves a good
tease.