Sweet Temptation (11 page)

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Authors: Wendy Higgins

BOOK: Sweet Temptation
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Physical exertion is exactly what I need.

Anna nods absently and stares at her luggage. “I think I'll do a load of laundry or something.”

“I can tell them we'd like laundry service when I pass the front desk.”

She gives me a puzzled expression. “Oh, you mean have the hotel do it? No way, that'd be way too expensive. There's a Laundromat right across the street.”

I cringe. “You mean with the crackheads?”

Anna snorts and shakes her head. She's already gathering her dirty clothes, and she even reaches for mine, but I step on the shorts she's grabbing.

“You don't have to do mine.” I'm a bit appalled. How can she be so casual about this?

“Oh, just let me.” She yanks the shorts out from under my foot. “I've had to use a Laundromat lots of times, and it's perfectly safe. It's mostly just moms. I'll just, um, need some money. If that's okay. I mean, not much, just a couple—”

I whip my wallet out in a flash to erase the embarrassed blush staining her cheeks, and thrust a bill at her. “You're sure it's safe? This is L.A., not backwoods Georgia.”

“Ha-ha.” She snatches the ten and stuffs it in her pocket.

“I'll be listening,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes, but then whispers, “Thanks.”

I keep my hearing locked around her for the hour plus that I run on the treadmill and do a series of push-ups and sit-ups. I'd prefer weights right now, but this poor excuse for a gym has none.

Anna's been so quiet at the Laundromat that I decide to see if she's all right with my own eyes. The place is completely dodgy from the outside, but when I walk in it smells clean and there's a calming whir of washers and dryers going. Two old women are power-napping in chairs on the opposite side of the
room from where Anna stands with her back to me, folding clothes.

She bends to pull my T-shirt from the dryer, and within two seconds flat my beast sniffs the air and smacks his lips. Anna is far too cute in those shorts. She raises my shirt in front of herself with a flap and does quick work with her fingers, ending with the shirt in the form of a perfect, flat rectangle. Should I be this impressed?

I've moved across the room until I'm just behind her, and I swear she's so focused and lost in thought she doesn't notice. Even after meeting her father and knowing fully what dangers are out there, she is still too trusting. It's a damn good thing it's only me creeping up behind her, and not some dangerous bloke.

And then I remember I
am
a dangerous bloke where Anna is concerned. I still plan to keep her safe from my father by taking her virginity at the first possible opportunity. It's for her own good. The fact that I'll enjoy the hell out of it is inconsequential. The thought of being that close to her sends a stream of heated adrenaline and need through my blood.

Before I can advise myself otherwise, I'm reaching for her waist. She startles at my touch, and I pull the back of her closer into me.

“Just me, luv,” I say. I shouldn't let myself get this close, because I can hear the lust in my own voice. I wonder if she can hear it, as well. I wonder if she's feeling the same. There is barely any space between us now, and I'm breathing in her scent from behind like a fiend who can't get enough. Why must she smell so lovely?

“Kai . . . you shouldn't . . .”

No, I really, really should.

I feel her tremble in my hands. “Unless you're going to be my boyfriend, you shouldn't touch me like this.”

Boyfriend. I go still, and for a heartbeat I want to smile. Would she want to be attached to me in such a way? Never once in all my life has the word
boyfriend
had a smiling effect on me.
Boyfriend
and
girlfriend
are the most useless, flimsy labels out there, yet people put such stock in them. They trust those labels to mean so much more.

But hearing Anna say it is rather charming and ironic. Like a lethal poison in a candy shell. She has no idea. None at all.

“The Neph are not permitted to be in relationships,” I say against her hair. “Especially not with one another.”

She's quiet for a moment. “Nobody has to know. Just us.”

I am a maelstrom of emotion, spinning too quickly. I want to embrace this moment, have something all to myself, hide her away where she can remain as she is and say these sweet things to me all she wants. I'm filled with a longing far stronger and deeper than lust, and it makes my heart race. I'm out of bounds. Out of my territory. In a perilous place where I cannot afford to be. Ever.

“It can never happen,” I say. And I wonder if I'm saying it to her or myself.

Her body stiffens and her chin rises as she gently pries my hands from around her waist. I want to thank her for doing the thing I couldn't do myself. I'm glad one of us is strong enough.

I leave her, taking deep breaths the entire way to the hotel
room, attempting to shake off the odd sensations. This has gotten out of hand. I've allowed myself too much leniency where Anna is concerned. It began with harmless fun, but now it's got to stop. Both our lives are at stake, and it's time for me to control the reins.

Tonight, I will take things one step further and show Anna how good it tastes to live on the wild side. I'll buy some alcohol. She's such a lightweight—she'd be seeing the world differently after one wine cooler. I need for her to embrace her fate.

I'm primed and poised when Anna returns. I go for casual, lying on the bed with my feet crossed and a hand behind my head, pretending to watch the telly. She puts the clothes away and rummages through her bags, finally plopping a large book onto the opposite bed. I ignore her scowl.

“What are you getting into?” I ask.

She shoots me a suspicious and rather annoyed glance before saying, “English.”

Brilliant. Father made me study the great “romantics.” While Anna was memorizing Bible verses in Sunday school, I was memorizing Shakespeare and Byron, and any other rubbish that might get me into girls' knickers.

I flick off the television and go to Anna's bed, opening her book as I lie down. I wonder if she'll be impressed with my skills. I am English, after all. I flick through the pages, and Anna sits as far away as possible. Hm. I'll need to remedy that. I land on the sonnets but am quickly distracted when Anna begins to unbraid her hair. With each wavy strand that is freed from its binding, the book and all of our surroundings disappear.

Anna Whitt's hair is bloody amazing. It's a sin she keeps it held back all the time. It's like heavy, golden silk falling around her, and her face is in absolute bliss as she runs her hands through it.

Must touch it . . .

Hot, raging longing fills my every cell. Blood pumps so fiercely in my ears that I cannot hear the beast pawing the ground, but I know it is, because I'm salivating. When she glances at me I quickly look down. I think she might've caught me.

She flicks through some pages and I can't make out what she's muttered.

“What's the matter?” I ask.

I'm afraid she's about to order me off her bed, but instead she goes on about the summer poetry assignment. Passion is spouting from her pores and I sit up. I can't wait to throw my poetic genius at her.

She goes on and on, oblivious of her own beauty as she waves her fists and purses her lips in indignation. “The beauty of poetry is that it can mean different things to different people at different times. . . . It's wrong to dissect poetry like this!”

She throws down her paper, breathing hard, and I suddenly cannot recall a single line of poetry I've memorized. All I can think about is touching her. Taking a chance that she might slap the shit out of me, I cup her face, surprised how hot her soft cheek is in my hand.

But she doesn't smack my hand or move away. She stares at me, and I stare back.

This girl.

I am no match for her.

“Seriously,” she whispers. “You're doing that bedroom-eyes thing again.”

Bloody right I am.

All at once we're both crossing the space, crashing in a blaze of lips, ready and seeking, needing and wanting. God, it's that epic feeling again. Like I will die if we can't devour each other and become one. I'm awash in her pear and freesia scent. It tantalizes my every sense.

Our mouths embrace. I'm losing myself, just as I did the other night, and I can't stop it from happening. This is like no lust I've ever experienced. It is all-consuming the way her tongue licks at mine, greeting, teasing, inviting me in further. And so I go.

She kicks her school things to the floor, and I know this is happening.

I must have more of her.

My mouth pulls away, landing on the slight saltiness of her neck. The moan she lets out swells inside my ears and I am flipping her, cradled so perfectly by her legs, ready to own her. There's hunger in her dark eyes as she feels me pressing on all the tender places where no other bloke has ever been. She's gasping and making the sexiest little noises.

I'm surprised when Anna starts to pull my shirt up, but I quickly help, reaching over my head, grabbing it and yanking it off. I go for the top button on her shirt, and when she doesn't stop me I hurry through them, desperate to see and feel as much of this girl as I can. Her shirt and undershirt are finally off in a flick of arms. I'm all but growling as my chest and
stomach touch hers, hot and smooth, and our mouths meet once more. I want to savor every moment. She feels incredible underneath me, skin to skin.

The feel of her hands grasping at me—knowing she wants me as I want her—is incredible. I am going to take my time with her, and it's going to take all night.

And then I remember with a pang of disappointment. “What time will Patti be calling?”

“Not for an hour,” she whispers.

Far too soon. “That simply is
not
going to be enough time.” I don't want any distractions, but I'll take what time I can get. I flip us again so she's on top and I have better access to remove her clothing. I'm leaning partly against the pillows and headboard, and Anna sits across my lap. She takes my lead so perfectly on everything, letting me be in control. Trusting me and going with it.

I have to be careful on this next part because she freaked last time I went near her chest. I will not go for the grab. I concentrate on her shoulders, kissing the smooth skin, and working her bra straps down. Going slow is driving me mad. I want her naked ten minutes ago. I can't remember the last time I've gone this long or wanted something more.

I feel for the back of her strap but then decide to leave her bra on. As much as I want her completely naked, I've known since the night we met that she's self-conscious of her chest size. Completely ridiculous, of course. I'll leave that discovery for later.

When Anna scoots down on me and curls her hips against mine, I go momentarily blind with lust. My control is slipping
much faster than normal. Time to meet the arse I've been desperately dreaming about.

One hand goes around her back and I lift my hips, turning us over so she's lying on her back again. I move down, kissing a path along her breastbone, down to the soft mound at the top of her bra. As if begging me not to stop, Anna's hands push into my hair.

Ah, God, this is unbelievable. At every moment I keep expecting her to stop me, but she never does. I move down her stomach to her gorgeous belly button, kissing and tasting every inch. When I get to her shorts I look up and her eyes are shut. Her whole body is fluid, squirming and ready for me.

Take her.

But . . .

Does she know what she's doing? She mightn't be thinking clearly. . . .

Doesn't matter.

My body is screaming. I'm so close. This is what I've wanted. I won't stop now.

With one flick, the button of her shorts is undone. My hands slide under her back and she arches for me. I love the responsiveness of her body, so completely in tune with mine. I lick the skin I've just exposed and she sucks in a massive breath.

This is nothing
, I want to tell her.
Wait until you feel what's next.

She has no idea what she's in for, and though it's all good things in my mind, I feel a sudden unwelcome pang of guilt just as I'm about to unzip her shorts. My defenses go up. I've
no reason to feel guilty. I warned her. She knows who I am and what I'm after. So why do I feel the need to warn her again?

“My parents were soul mates in heaven,”
she'd told me. She'd been created in love by an angel and a demon who were separated because of others' lies and deceit. She is nothing like me. She gives all her money away to needy strangers, and has a heart for the downtrodden.

Who cares? Keep going, you bloody fool, before she changes her mind!

I never let myself think of how the girl will feel afterward while I'm working, but this doesn't feel like a job. I don't
want
it to be a job. I shove my inner work voice aside and give her one last warning.

“Now would be the time to stop me, luv. You're about to be undressed, and trust me when I say it will be too late after that.”

She's going to stop me now. I know it, and I feel a sense of relief. I kiss her stomach one last time while I can, so grateful to be this close to her for these fleeting moments.

And then she says in a sultry voice, “No, Kai. Don't stop.”

I freeze. She's giving permission.

Don't stop.

I have to kiss the mouth that said those words. When I do, our bodies move together, and she's clinging to me, rocking me from the inside out. And though there's clothing between us, it's the most sensual and satisfying thing I've ever experienced.

My chest swells with an abundance of that feeling only Anna can give me. It overpowers the beast inside me with its luminescence. A single thought echoes through my mind: it's
time to stop. I don't even understand why. Clearly, Anna is ready. She has told me as much, and her body is screaming it, rubbing against me in a way that makes me want to explode.

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