Wild Temptation (28 page)

He laughs, and Tyler wraps an arm around me, pulling me into him. For a second, I close my eyes and savor the warmth of his body against mine. For a second, I relax into the way his hand curves around my waist and holds me to him with certainty.

Then the moment is broken by the sound of a voice cutting through.

“Tyler! How great to see you. I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight.”

He turns, not releasing me, and faces the newcomer. She’s brunette, her hair so dark it’s almost black, and her light-brown eyes are almost the color of honey. She’s slim where I’m curved, and I can’t help but notice that she’s my opposite in every way.

I also can’t help but notice my sudden and irrational desire to cling to Tyler like a freakin’ koala and tell this bitch to fuck off to the Grand Canyon. Or somewhere equally far away.

“My cousin is the guest of honor. Why wouldn’t I be?” he responds casually.

I catch the twitch of Dayton’s lips. My eyes flick to hers. Her gaze meets mine, the glint in her eye undecipherable.

“Of course.” Brunette Bitch smiles. “How about a dance? To catch up?”

“I don’t think so. I’m here with somebody.”

“Tyler Stone on a date? Wonders will never cease.” Her smile turns spiteful. “I’m sure she won’t mind us catching up for old time’s sake.” Her light gaze cuts to mine.

“Actually, she would,” I reply, my hand fisting the back of Tyler’s jacket. “But she’ll let him go as not to look a total bitch in public, because who would want that?”

My words wipe the smile off her face and a smug glow settles in my stomach.

Yeah. I know how this game is played. I get it—she fucked him. Well, now I’m fuck
ing
him, and she better believe he’ll be coming back to me in three and a half minutes when this song is over.

“Are you sure?” Tyler whispers in my ear.

“I’m your date, not your girlfriend. You can do whatever you want.”

When I let him go, he steps toward her with a reluctant glance back to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aaron kiss Dayton on the cheek and greet another man in a suit, but my full gaze is on Tyler leading this woman to the floor.

I lean against the bar next to Dayton, and she hands me a glass of vodka and Coke.

“He doesn’t know her name,” we say simultaneously. A small laugh leaves us both.

“Seriously,” I say, sipping my drink. “I don’t know whether to be annoyed that he’s fucked so many women he can’t remember their names or impressed that he’s fucked so many women and can remember mine.”

“Both,” Dayton replies. “Definitely both.”

My eyes cut to him dancing with Brunette Bitch.
Definitely both, all right.

“He doesn’t actually care about her, you know?” Day says, breaking into my thoughts. “He doesn’t care about any of them. You can’t care about someone you’d don’t remember or recognize.”

“It doesn’t matter if he does. We’re not in a relationship, Day. He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Okay. Like you once said to me, when you’ve come to your senses, we’ll revisit this conversation.”

I turn to her, but she studiously avoids me. Her eyes peruse the dance floor, pretending to look everywhere but at Tyler. Pretending because that’s the only place she’s looking. Because I know she’ll neuter the prick if he so much as lets his hand brush the top of the bitch’s ass.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” I sip my drink again.

“I want you to admit the truth. You’re as closed off as I once was. It’s how we lived, honey. But the Stone men don’t take that shit. Tyler will tear you apart until the only thing you can do is admit how you feel while the tears roll down your face.”

“Reassuring.”
Sip.

“It’s the truth. That man wants you. He’s staring at you right now. Wishing he could be over here with you instead of dancing with this…whoever the hell she is.”

“Of course he is.” S
ip.

S
he snatches the glass from me and sets it on the bar. “Seriously, Liv? Pull your fucking head from your ass. I can’t tell you how he feels, but he. Wants. You. Only you. And you feel exactly the frigging same. Yeah, your past is a little fucked. Yeah, you’re scared about how this shit will affect everyone else if the events leading to the fucked-upness happen again. But you know what, sweetie? You need to stop thinking about everyone else and start thinking about yourself.”

I lick my lips. “Not with him. He’s dangerous, Day. He’s the one thing I could give in to wholeheartedly, but he’s the one thing I could end up regretting more than anything.”

“And he’s the one thing you could end up treasuring more than anything.”

“Where’s my cynical best friend and what have you done with her?”

“She remembered what it’s like to be in love.” She smiles. “And she sees the same opportunity for you and wants it for you, too.”

“So much for warning me off him, right?” I grab my glass.
Sip.

She grins. “Give in, Liv. For one night, give in to him and let him show you everything you’re missing.”

I smirk at her words. Oh, I do. I have—several times. I’ve submitted and I’ve given in, and I’m willing to give more. I’m willing to give him everything I have—physically. Mentally and emotionally? Well, we’ll work on that. When I hear from his mouth that it’s more than just physical.

I won’t let myself believe it until he tells me himself this is more than just a bunch of kinky-ass sex.

And I hate how right she is. That’s why you should never have a best friend, for the record. They see the bullshit you don’t and they can tease you into believing with your words.

The only problem is that, while staring at that handsome British man slowly trying to step away from the woman across him, I want to. Believe him. I want to believe every word he whispers in my ear and mumbles against my lips. I just wish it weren’t so hard to give someone your everything when a part of you believes you’re their nothing.

Mercifully, the song ends and Tyler finally disengages himself from Brunette Bitch. He crosses the room forcefully, determinedly. When he reaches me, his hands find my back and my neck. He draws me to him, his mouth hot against mine. Certain and determined. Knowing and seductive.

I melt into him. There’s nothing else I can do. My hands curl around the lapels of his jacket and pull him to me as firmly as he’s holding my body against his.

Tyler Stone is everything I forbid myself from.

He is the only thing I’ve ever truly fought myself from. And I fear, deep down to my bones, that my fight is as futile as that of an ant’s against a footstep.

I tremble when he touches me. It’s a quiver I feel throughout my body. He has a deadly kiss. One that could end me as quickly as it enlightens me.

“Don’t ever make me do that again,” he hisses into my ear.

“I won’t,” I answer truthfully.

Do I ever want to see him with his arms around another woman? No. Not at fucking all.

“Good,” he replies. He wraps both of his arms around me and holds me tight to him. “I’m punishing you for that, by the way.”

“I’m not sure your idea of punishing is synonymous with mine.” My hands fist his jacket as I mumble into his chest.

“You’ll find out later.” He turns his face to mine and brushes his lips against my temple.

His hold on me is so strong and steady that I couldn’t break away if I tried. If I wanted to—which I don’t. There’s comfort in being enveloped against his firm body. I’m not a cuddler, not really, but I’d happily stay in Tyler’s arms and be cuddled by him for hours.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks me, barely releasing me.

I glance at the bar and my empty glass. Well. “Please.”

“Wine? Or are you sticking to the strong stuff?” A grin spreads across his face.

“Fuck off.” I jab him in the stomach and step away from him. So the vodka made him dancing with that woman a little more bearable. My stomach didn’t sink quite as much as it would have otherwise.

Tyler raises his eyebrows and orders us some drinks. His ability to do so without taking his eyes from mine is incredible. Really. It’s a wonder the girl behind the bar isn’t bitch-slapping him for his rudeness.

It’s a wonder
I’m
not bitch-slapping him for the uncomfortable feeling his intense gaze is filling me with.

“It’s okay to look somewhere other than at me,” I snap, grabbing my glass of wine. Sure.
We’ll go with the verbal bitch-slap, Liv
.

“I know, but the view isn’t nearly as good,” he responds smoothly. “Let’s go and sit down.”

I move to the nearest table, but he grasps my upper arm and leads me to the corner.

“Over here.”

I bite my tongue and let him take me there. Of course we’ll sit in the corner. Why would we come to a party and actually be a part of it? Such a ridiculous thought.

“Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

He glances up at me from his seat. “Sit down, Liv.”

“I’m fine standing.”

“Sit the fuck down before I pull you down.”

“You’re really quite controlling sometimes, you know that?”

“Only because you’re disobedient.” His lips twitch.

“But I obey in bed and that’s where it matters.” I sit down and turn away from him.

He laughs. “Do you know you do this thing where one minute you really like me then the next you’re bitching at me like you’re at the height of your period and someone stole all the chocolate?”

“Yes. It’s one of my better qualities.”

Another laugh. “I agree. Your feistiness turns me on. A lot.”

My eyes drop to his pants. No kidding. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Yes.” He takes my glass from me and sets it on the table. Then he grabs my chair and yanks it toward him.

I grasp the edge of the table to stop myself from falling off of it from the sudden movement. Unnecessarily, because Tyler hooks an arm around my waist and holds me to him.

“I want you to admit something,” he breathes against the back of my neck.

Every word makes my hair stand on end. “Admit what?”

“Admit how much my dancing with…whatever her name was…bothered you.”

“I told you to go.”

“In spite of that, Liv. When I looked at you—which I did, a lot—I could see it in your eyes.”

“What ‘it’?” I wriggle to get away, but he holds me closer. His other hand slides down my thigh and inside it, running up until his thumb is close to brushing my pussy.

“Fear,” he whispers.

I swallow. That’s ridiculous…but plausible. Sure, I wasn’t acknowledging it at the time, but I was a little afraid. Of what? I don’t know. I just know I was.

Maybe I was—and am—afraid of losing something I won’t let myself have.

I cover his hand with mine at my side, sliding my fingers through his and closing my eyes. “What are we doing?”

“We’re wingin’ it, baby girl. Totally fucking winging it.”

I couldn’t have put it better.

I have had... Wait? How many glasses of wine? I’m not sure. Let’s say I decided to wisely stop counting at four. Yes, I decided to stop. I didn’t lose count or anything. Nope. I haven’t had that many.

I giggle to myself. So I’m on the drunker side of merry, but whatever. It’s been one of those nights where I’m feeling more than I want to, and the alcohol is a great number. Wine is a great number. And friend. It’s a very, very good friend. You know why? It doesn’t tell me to pull my head from my ass. It just goes on down and hugs me with warmth. Yep.

I’m sacking my best friend and hiring Sauvignon Blanc.

“I think someone needs to go home.” Tyler’s words crawl over my neck with his hot breath.

I lean back into him, smiling. “Maybe just a little.”

“A lot,” he corrects, laying a hand either side of my waist and slowly running them down. “I have plans for you tonight, Liv. Big plans.”

“Then your plan must be your cock.” I slap my hand over my mouth.
Holyshitdidnotmeantosaythatoutloud.