Pure Lust: The Complete Series Box Set (16 page)

“I remember how you looked, wearing nothing but paint, standing in the sunlight in my studio,” Flynn rasped in my ear.

“Ignore him,” Edward said, twisting his hips and arching up, forcing his thickness deep, deep, deep inside me.

I wailed, my hands fisting on his shoulders.

“No.” Flynn kissed my cheek and plumped my breasts together. “No, I won't let you ignore me, because you want me. As long as you want me, I will always be here.”

I turned my head and looked up into his eyes and knew at once it was a mistake.

“You still want me,” he said again. “Admit it. Stop lying to yourself. To Edward.”

Then I was falling…falling…and when I stopped, it was just him.

Just Flynn.

And he came down on top of me, caught my mouth as he drove into me. Hard, fast strokes that made my body scream. Over and over until I was clinging to him and panting. Begging him never to stop...

***

I woke up with a half-sob caught in my throat, my body primed for orgasm, my skin ultra-sensitive and my head pounding. Even the brush of the soft cotton sheets was too much.

Edward was still sleeping next to me and the sky outside the windows was dark. I hadn't been asleep that long.

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I struggled not to cry.

I struggled not to moan.

My knees brushed against nipples so sensitive, just that light touch was enough to make me gasp.

You still want me…

Want him?

I was starting to realize I was seriously fucked up.

Edward made a low noise in his throat and I gave him a quick, nervous look. Scared I’d wake him, I slid from the bed and hurried over to the bathroom. I needed to pull myself together before I even attempted to go back to bed.

Once I’d ducked inside, I hit the lights and looked around. A bath. That’s what I needed. I’d take a hot bath. But as I was walking by the enclosed shower, I detoured and decided on a shower instead. I didn't feel patient enough to wait for the tub to fill.

As the steam enfolded me like a cloud, I rested my head back against the tiled wall and closed my eyes. It felt like heaven. My head continued to pulse and pound.

So did other parts of me.

I shot a look at the bathroom door and then slid a hand down my belly. Damp curls met my fingers and I bit my lip as I eased them lower. I swallowed a groan as I scraped the tip of my nail over my clit. It was swollen and throbbing. One slow circle, then another, and another…

I closed my eyes.
Think of Edward…

But it wasn’t his face that came to mind.

I saw Flynn’s face, that day in the studio. Hard and intent, as he painted me with streaks of color and then stood over me, next to me, kneeling in front of me as he snapped picture after picture.

When I climaxed against my searching fingers, I was picturing him on his knees, driving inside me.

***

“Lunch?” Edward kissed me lightly on the lips before he climbed out of the car. We’d swung by the Bouvier building first. It was closest.

I wasn’t entirely lying when I shook my head regretfully. “I’ve got a feeling my boss is going to let me have it for coming in late. I might end up having to work straight through
...
and stay late.”

He frowned, then stroked his fingers across my cheek. “If you ever want to find something that makes you less unhappy, just say the word. I can help out.”

“I’m fine.” I wasn’t even going to consider that. I was paying my dues, I told myself. Paying my dues. I didn't want to be one of those women who only made it because of who she was sleeping with. Or, in my case, marrying.

Once he was striding toward the towering spire of the Bouvier empire, I looked up in the mirror to see Paul waiting for my instructions. “My place first. I need to change.”

And face Kendra
. I’d already let my work know I’d be in late. Which was why I was already prepared to work through lunch and stay after for a bit.

***

“You’re
what
?”

She stared at my face, not at the ring I’d been waggling at her.

“Engaged.” I smiled, but it fell flat. “You know, love, marriage…I dunno, maybe a baby carriage somewhere off in the future?”

I’d hoped to elicit a laugh, but she just stared at me as if I had gone crazy.

After a moment, she turned away, pacing over to the window seat where she sat down. “Gabs, you barely know this guy. Please, please, please…” She dropped her face into her hands and sucked in a breath.

I had the feeling she was bracing herself.

When she looked at me, there was a hard glint to her light green eyes. “If you haven’t at least found out his last name, I’m calling your mother and siccing her on you. She’ll talk some sense into you.”

“Oh, yeah.” I poked out my lower lip and huffed up some air, blowing a few strands of auburn hair out of my face. Moving over toward the chair near the window seat, I sat. “I learned his name alright. Ah, you remember how you kept thinking he looked familiar?” I hesitated.

Kendra arched a brow at me. “And?”

“Well.” I swallowed. “He…um…well, his family kinda owns Bouvier.”

She blinked. Then she started to laugh. “Very funny, Gabs. Very…” She stopped laughing after she caught sight of my face. “Shit, you’re not joking, are you?” She sank onto the window seat.

“No. His name’s Edward Bouvier.” I managed a weak smile. “Kind of crazy, huh?”

She lurched up out of the window seat and started to pace. “Crazy? What the hell, Gabs?”

Her chestnut brown curls flew around her shoulders as she spun to face me. “Are you telling me that you’re engaged to the guy who owns that great big building where I go for half my shoots?
That
Bouvier?”

Clearing my throat, I met her eyes then looked away. “Well, to be accurate, the family owns it. He’s got...” my voice cracked. “Brothers.”

“Brothers. Wonderful.” She dropped down on the couch and pulled a pillow to her chest. “Gabriella, if this is serious, if it’s real, I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Just be sure.”

“I
am
,” I said, smiling. It was my best smile. I knew it was.

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why do I get the feeling something is making you…nervous?”

Dammit.

“Well…” I got up and moved to the window, taking up the spot she’d vacated. “It’s…life is insane, Kendra. I’m not kidding. We had dinner at his country club so we could tell his parents. Well, his mom and his step-dad. His half-brother showed up.” I'd gotten that much out of Edward without sounding too curious. Flynn had been the accident child between Claire and her second husband, Albert McCreary. “And you…well. He introduces himself and I hear the name and I’m thinking, it’s coincidence, right? It’s gotta be and….”

Even I could hear the nerves, spilling out of me along with the words. As Kendra’s brows rose higher and higher, I tried to slow myself down, but I couldn’t Finally, I came to a halt and faced her, head on.

“Edward’s brother is Flynn.”

Kendra looked blank.

“
Flynn McCreary
.”

“Oh, no…” she whispered, lifting a hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened.

“Yes!” I dropped onto the seat again.

Her phone rang then, interrupting what I knew would have been a monumental cry fest. Instead of sobbing on my best friend’s shoulder, I was left sniffling on the window seat as she hurried out less than ten minutes later—the photo shoot had been rescheduled. For that day.

Change of plans?

Courtesy of Flynn McCreary.

Chapter 3

I’d been on the money when I'd said my boss wasn’t going to play nice about me coming in late. I worked through lunch, through rush hour, right up until it was nearly eight-thirty. She was calling me from her cellphone with things I needed to do
.
If, of course, I wanted to show I was serious about my position.

I was tempted to tell her to shove my position up her ass.

Except I needed the job, and I wanted the connections. The obviously expensive engagement ring didn't help matters since I knew a single call from me to Edward would take care of all of it. It also seemed to piss my boss off even more.

I didn’t see Edward at all, although he texted me off and of throughout the day. The messages should have made my day better.

They didn’t. They just reminded me that I was lying to him.

The apartment Kendra and I were struggling so desperately to keep was empty when I got home and when I finally checked my voicemail, I found out why. The photo shoot went well, they were all out having drinks and tapas, courtesy of Flynn.

The sound of his name made my heart hurt.

I wanted to text her back and tell her to dump a margarita on the bastard’s head, but that was the absolute worst thing I could do. The jerk would open his mouth to Edward, I just knew it.

You need to tell him
.

That inner voice kept me awake half the night and I finally resorted to digging through the medicine cabinet until I found some generic knock-off of those nighttime over-the-counter pain relievers with that extra junk thrown in to help me sleep.

The last clear thought I had about Flynn was at the club, and the way his mouth had felt against mine, the way he'd tasted. And the way my heart had thumped so hard against my ribs when I’d heard his voice.

For a split second, just that one split second, I’d felt so painfully happy.

***

Morning came with a headache.

Sitting at the table, I watched as Kendra all but whimpered and crawled out of bed, clearly feeling about as lousy as I was, although for different reasons.

The signs of a hangover were pretty clear.

Out of pity, I went about brewing her some coffee while she stumbled into the bathroom. She collapsed onto the chair across from mine and took the cup with a pitiful moan a few minutes later. I put a bottle of water, already opened, and some ibuprofen down next to her.

“You’re an angel,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Have fun?”

She went to nod and then stopped, cradling her head. A few minutes passed in silence as she rubbed her temples and sipped water and coffee alternatively.

Bit by bit, she woke up and when she finally focused on my face, her bloodshot eyes widened slightly. “Wow, honey. You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks.” I tipped my cup toward her in salute. “Every girl loves to hear that in the morning, you know.”

She shrugged. “You know me. I love to offer a pick me up.”

“Yeah, well, consider my confidence boosted.” Then I sighed and propped my chin on my fist, looking outside the window where a steady downpour had been falling since I’d climbed out of bed.

“You’re not coming down with anything, are you?” There was a mix of concern and apprehension on my best friend’s face as she squinted her eyes to study me.

The last time I’d ended up sick, so had she and she’d almost passed out on a shoot.

“No, I’m just tired.” Looking down at the ring that felt like a five pound weight on my hand, I twisted it. “I guess I’m just nervous about everything. I mean, how are you going to get by without me here to make you coffee when you’re hung over?”

“Funny.” She made a face at me and sighed, looking around the beautiful studio. “Well, the good news is that I’m starting to bring in good money now, and steadily.” Despite the obvious headache, a light of pure delight gleamed in her eyes. “My agent called me yesterday and said I’ve got offers coming in like mad now. Money won’t be a problem…
and
you were right. I finally had somebody call from that office that handles rent control stuff. The dickwad is jerking us around and it looks like he’s in major shit for it too.”

“Well.” I smiled again and this time, it felt more real. “That is seriously good news. Not only are you raking in the cash, that asshole is going to get what’s coming to him.”

She reached over and patted my hand. “You worry too much, Gabs. Everything works out.”

“Yeah.” I wished I had her optimism.

***

A catastrophe at the office kept Edward late again.

“What kind of fashion catastrophe can keep you late?”

“Family dramas,” he said and I could hear the weariness in his voice even over the phone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking we could go out for dinner even if I got out of here later than planned, but I doubt you’re going to want to go anywhere at eleven o’clock.”

I eyed the time on the DVD player beneath the TV Kendra and I shared, not quite managing to hide my grimace from her. “No, I’m not quite up to dinner that late. I’ll be honest, I’m pretty worn out already.”

He was quiet a moment and then asked, “You sound upset.”

“I’m not. I’m just tired.”

He seemed to accept that and we talked a few more minutes, making a date for lunch the following day before he hung up. I heard voices in the background, and although they weren’t raised, there was that agitated, animated tone that spoke of dissent.