Wild Temptation (20 page)

I roll my eyes. “She wears dresses and heels as standard, and I wear jeans and usually flats, despite my extensive heel collection.”

“All right, I get it. She’s high-maintenance and you’re…”

“Watch what you say there, buddy. Just because I pick comfort over blisters doesn’t mean I’m not high-maintenance.”

“The only high-maintenance thing about you is your attitude, Liv. In fact, you’re very easy to deal with when your mouth is occupied.”

I run my tongue over my bottom lip. “How would you know? You haven’t occupied it yet.”

Tyler leans in and hooks a finger under my chin, bringing my face close to his. “It can be arranged, babe.”

I lower his hand and sit back, a smile tugging at my mouth. “I’m sure it can be. But we’re talking right now, remember?”

“I’m not sure I’m a fan of your mouth talking.”

“And I’m not sure I’m fan of yours doing the same thing, but isn’t life a bitch?”

He laughs. “Touché. Okay, what are we talking about now?”

I barely think before I ask him my next question. “When did you realize you were a sex addict?”

He jerks slightly and I know I caught him off guard. Good. That’s my favorite. “Jump right in there, why don’t you, love?”

I smile.

“That’s a serious question?” he clarifies.

“Absolutely. You want to talk, so let’s talk. Right down to the gritty bits. I assume that’s why we’re here.” I cross my legs beneath the table and lean back in the booth.

He catches his tongue between his teeth and studies me for a moment. “A couple of years ago. And before you ask, no, sex isn’t an outlet for some monumental fuck-up in my childhood. I like sex, I had a bit too much, and I got addicted. It works the same way as any addiction. You get one taste, you want more and more, then suddenly you can’t live without it.”

His eyes are focused on mine as he says the last sentence. The very same sentence that wraps around me, tightening my chest and ricocheting off every corner of my mind.

“I never assumed sex was an outlet,” I say almost tightly.

“People use sex for a lot of things. Some people use it as a guard. Don’t they?”

“And I’m not ashamed to admit I use sex as a guard. There’s nothing wrong with protecting my heart by using my body.” I tap my fingers against the table. “There’s nothing wrong with protecting your future by securing your past.”

“Why are you so afraid?” he asks softly, resting his hand over mine and stopping my tapping. “What do you have to be so afraid of?”

A bitter laugh leaves me. “No. I’m done talking now.”

“Liv.”

“Tyler, please,” I whisper. My words are barely audible over the noise in the bar.

I’m not ready for that—I’m not ready to admit out loud to someone how I almost died because I was once addicted to someone so intensely that I truly believed my life wasn’t worth living without him.

“I’ll take you home.” He stands.

I do, too, wrapping my arms around my stomach. Those memories are tightly locked away. Stuck in a box locked with a key I threw away long ago. I don’t want to remember them and see the pain in my best friend’s eyes when I regained consciousness or the helplessness in my parent’s gaze.

The ride back to my apartment is almost painful. There’s an uneasy silence between us, and the longer it goes on, the more the reality of this situation collapses onto me.

There are no lines.

As easily as he wiped away my invisible one on the table earlier, Tyler has wiped away the real ones.

There are no lines, but there are strings and all sorts of bullshit I’m not prepared to wade through right now.

“Come up,” I say, my hand on the door. “With me.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. He follows me up the stairs. When we reach the top, Sean’s door opens and he steps out. His mouth forms an ‘o’ and he looks at me.

“Maybe I’ll try again later,” he mutters.

“Sean,” I say, knowing that he’s looking for an introduction, “this is Tyler. Tyler, this is my neighbor, Sean.”

I think Sean’s about to fall over and Tyler hasn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“Nice to meet you, mate. Sorry about last time.”

“He’s British,” Sean states, looking at me.

He drops Tyler’s hand and gasps like a schoolgirl. I shake my head frantically, begging him not to say anything. I can see it all falling into place.

“He’s Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and Oh So British!” he all but squeals.

Thank you, Sean, you rat bastard.

“Nice to see you, Sean. We’ll catch up soon. Goodbye!” I push my apartment door open and walk in.

Tyler is laughing behind me, and as much as I’m annoyed at Sean for blurting that out, I’m thankful that he cut through the tension.

“Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and Oh So British, huh?”

I clap my hands to my flaming cheeks. “I didn’t know your name. I had to call you something when I explained to my other best friend how you stole my orgasm and that pretty much summed it up.”

“I stole your orgasm?”

“Eh. You gave it back, so who cares?”

“Want another?” He kisses the back of my neck.

I turn to face him and grip the collar of his shirt. “I’m not going to argue if you insist.”

“In that case…” He cups my ass and pulls me flush against him before sealing his mouth against mine. My knees weaken at the fervor he kisses me with, like he’s drowning and I’m the air he needs to survive.

Deep and intense, every brush of his lips and flick of his tongue touches me everywhere. I back up until I bump into my kitchen table. Tyler slides his hands to the back of my knees and lifts me, setting me on the top of it.

He steps between my legs and pushes his already-solid cock against my center. I slide my hands around his neck and grip his hair. I tug lightly and he groans into my mouth.

He undoes the zipper on my sweater and slides it over my shoulders. My tank top soon follows, our kiss breaking for a second so he can tug it over my head. I let go of his hair to pull at his shirt, to feel his skin naked against mine. Together, we make short work of the buttons and I throw it to the floor, pulling him back to me.

His skin is hot, his chest smooth apart from the light hair dusting his pecs. I slide my hips into his, rubbing myself against him, and he kisses down my neck.

“You’re wearing it,” he murmurs, finding the blue-lace cup of the bra and running his tongue along the curve of my breast.

I try to shrug, but it fails. Instead, I take a deep breath when he undoes my jeans.

“Lift your hips.” He pulls my pants down my legs and steps back. His eyes appraise me from head to toe, lingering at my hips and the lace thong covering me. “God,” he groans, stepping back to me and unclasping my bra. “You’re so fucking sexy, Liv.”

I flatten my hands on the table behind me and arch my back when he seals his mouth around one of my nipples and sucks hard. I feel the tug right in my pussy. My muscles clench and—oh, crap.

Steadying himself, his hand next to mine on the table, Tyler dips two fingers inside me. The feeling of his tongue rubbing over my tender nipples and his fingers working my pussy is insanely good. I moan loudly, pushing my hips into his hand as best I can.

“I wanted your mouth around my cock tonight,” he whispers, bringing his mouth up to my ear. “I wanted to fuck your mouth so hard your throat would be sore tomorrow. But now I’ve changed my mind.” He sheds his pants and boxer briefs and replaces his fingers with his cock. “Instead, I think I’ll fuck you until your sweet cunt is sore.”

And he does. Relentlessly, he drives into me, making me cry out with every thrust. Each one is more desperate than the last, and I come quickly, squeezing him tightly.

He grunts out my name, and I feel him come in hot spurts, filling me completely. His skin burns against mine as he slumps forward. He slides a hand up my back to my hair and pulls my face to him.

I wrap an arm around his neck and bury my face in the crook of his shoulder. My heart is pounding so intensely that I’m certain he can feel it. Certain he can feel the burning, finally sated, desire flooding through my veins.

“Mmm,” he hums, rocking his hips against me. “Now I’m better.”

He looks down at me, and I smile lazily. “You really are, aren’t you?”

“Yep. What can I say? Being referred to as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome obviously turns me the fuck on.”

I laugh and sit up straight. He eases himself out of me before disappearing into my bathroom. He returns with a towel, and I clean myself up. I hop off the table and look at it.

“I guess I’m bleaching that in a minute.”

His laugh is deep and rich, and it makes me smile. It’s contagious and addictive, and I find myself giggling as I grab the bleach spray and a cloth. I coat the table in the spray and scrub it.

“Do you often clean in the nude?”

I glance over my shoulder to see his pants back on. “Nope. This is a special show just for you.”

He smacks my ass. “Tease.”

I wiggle my butt with a wink and dart across the kitchen before he can slap me again. He folds his arms and watches me walk to my bedroom. I put on some clean underwear and some sweatpants.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. At the shoot,” Tyler says when I walk into the front room.

I watch him walk to the front door. “You don’t have to. Go yet. I mean…” I take a deep breath. “You can stay. If you want to. For a bit.” I wrap my arms around my body, fear slicing through my words.

He turns, his eyes slowly finding mine. “Do you really mean that or are you just saying it?”

“Both. Maybe. I think.”

He smiles sadly and comes back to me, kissing me softly. “I’ll go.”

Two steps, and—“Don’t. I want you to stay.”

A long moment passes as he studies me over his shoulder. I swallow. My mouth is dry, my chest is tight, and my stomach is rolling in fear. This is a huge moment. For me, for him… For the dynamic of our so-called no-strings.

Just two days ago, I was yelling at him for buying me underwear. Now, here I am, asking him to stay after he fucked me.

Well, I already broke one rule and got to know him a little, so what’s breaking another?

Trust me,
he said.

“This is me trusting you, Ty,” I say softly.

He takes my hands and pulls them away from my body. His arms go around me in a strong hug, and I rest my head against his chest.

“I’m hungry.” His chest rumbles deeply with his words. “The Big Bang Theory and a takeout?”

“Why not?”

I
can feel his eyes burning into me through the camera lens. My body has been tingling for the past half an hour as he’s taken the shots. I’m not sure how no one else in this room can feel the tension.

I can. It’s zinging between us, coated in a sweet layer of lust.

“And we’re done,” Tyler says, lowering his camera. He turns away, and I take the robe offered to me by a wardrobe assistant. I’m tying the belt around my waist when he says, “Would you like to take a look?”

“I’d love to,” I respond, polite and professional. I join him at his laptop and take the seat in front of him.

He puts one hand on the back of the chair and one on a wireless mouse. He leans forward, and his breath flutters my hair, his thumb gently stroking my back. No one can see—they’re all too busy. This is a stolen private moment in an open, professional setting.

“Here we are.” He double-clicks a folder and a stream of images appears on the screen. “These are really great,” he says aloud. He bends down a little farther and whispers, “My cock is fucking hard right now. I hope you appreciate the torture I’m about to endure.”

I chew my lip so I don’t smile. “I really like this one.” I point to one where I’m sitting on the floor, leaning back on my hand. My head is tipped back, my eyes closed, my other hand in my hair.

He groans quietly. “Liv, you’re killing me, babe.”

“This one is good, too.” I’m standing, looking over my shoulder at the camera.

“Don’t drive to work tonight,” he whispers, leaning forward even more. His lips brush my jaw. “I’ll get you after.”