Wild Temptation (34 page)

It’s a whole different world. One day, I’d love to live somewhere like this. Somewhere busy yet quiet. Somewhere packed yet empty. Somewhere you can step out your door and breathe in the salty sea air without the chill of Seattle.

I settle back into the chair and sip my glass. At least I stopped at a store before I got here—thank you, Google Maps, for your expertise on where I should purchase wine.

I set the glass on the table next to me and gaze out at the beach. There are people wandering… Playing, kissing, dancing…

His hands are all over my body. His fingers stroke me in the most intimate way, caressing each of my curves in turn with the same amount of reverence. He’s worshipping me, leaving no part of me untouched by the softness of his fingertips.

His mouth settles by my ear. “I missed you,” he breathes, running his lips down my neck to my collarbone. My hips tilt up, my knees bend, my arms reach up…

And grasp thin air.

Godfuckingdammit.

I’m alone. I’m still sitting on the chair on the balcony, staring out at the now darkened coastal sky, my glass of wine inevitably warm. There’s a heavy ache in my pussy. My clit is throbbing, and I get up, grabbing my glass.

Well, it looks like Tyler is going to get his own way after all.

My penchant for dirty dreams about him is getting ridiculous. I mean, really. On a deckchair? Is that my latest sordid fantasy?

I tuck the glass of wine into the fridge and move through to the bedroom. No. The dream definitely involved a bed. I stare at my suitcase.

He said that I should use my vibrator. And think of him. My pussy clenches at the thought. Fuck. My body is wound so tight with the anticipation of the dream release that it’s now expecting the real thing.

With a sigh, I get up and dig through my case. I find the long, flesh-colored vibrator tucked deep within my clothes. As I stare at it, I run my fingers along its ridged surface. It’s no Tyler, but it’s a portable orgasm, so it’ll do.

I lie back on the bed, the hard member still encased in my palm, and close my eyes. I imagine him in all of his hot, British glory, standing in front of me. He’s shirtless, his stomach tensed after a workout, showing me each pack of muscle on it.

My hand finds my breast and creeps beneath my shirt, cupping the tender flesh. In my mind, he reaches down to his pants and undoes them, pushing down his boxers as he does. His hard cock springs to life, long and ready for me, and he wraps a hand around it.

I flick the switch at the base of my vibrator and trail it down my stomach. That’s how I’m imagining him—standing at the end of my bed with his hand firmly encasing his cock and his eyes firmly on my pussy.

My vibrator finds my clit and trembles against it slowly. I can almost imagine that it’s Tyler’s fingers teasing me, circling me, rubbing me. I can almost imagine that I can feel his breath cascading over my skin and his fingertips trailing along my thigh.

I run the vibrator along my pussy and rub, spreading my wetness across myself, before I dip it inside me. It takes a few gentle pushes before I have it all inside me, but it gets there. With a few soft thrusts, my whole body is humming.

My mind imagines that it’s Tyler leaning over me, pushing into me slowly. Then pulling out, teasing me deliciously, torturously, erotically.

My breath hitches. Fuck.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

I stop at his voice filtering through the room.

No. Surely not.

I open my eyes and look toward the door. He’s standing there, exactly like in my imagination with his hand around his cock.

“I mean it. Don’t let me stop you,” he repeats huskily. “Tell me though, babe. Are you thinking of me?”

Everything in me responds to his words—my heart, my chest, my stomach.

“Yes,” I whisper, pulling my vibrator out of me and pushing it back again.

“Good. Now I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to tell you exactly what to think. No, don’t stop what you’re doing. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” I gasp.

“Perfect. Do you want to know what I’m doing? Do you want to know everything?”

I gasp again as the vibrator hits the tender spot inside me. “Yes.”

“Okay.” His harsh breathing fills the room with mine. “I’m holding myself, Liv. My hand is wrapped so fucking tightly around my cock and tugging it so hard at the sight of you fucking yourself with that. You thinking about me, babe?”

“Yes.”

“What are you thinking?”

I moan. “I’m thinking you’d feel good inside me. I’m thinking you’d fill me better than this vibrator, that you’d make me come harder. Your hand against me would be better than my own. I’m thinking you’d fuck me harder than I could ever with this.”

“Good,” he grunts. “’Cause I’m thinking you’ve been particularly bad actually using this vibrator. Surely you know by now the only thing allowed in that gorgeous pussy is me?”

“I don’t… I can’t…” Pleasure ripples through me.

Fuck, he’s watching me. He’s actually watching me fuck myself with a vibrator and he’s getting himself off in the process.

“Come for me, baby. Imagine it’s me burying myself deep inside you. Imagine it’s my cock inside of you and my thumb rubbing your clit. Imagine how I kiss your neck and rock my hips until your tight cunt is clenching and coming all over my hard cock.”

It’s all I can feel. It’s a phantom feeling. Him over me. The bed dipping. His mouth swallowing my cries.

It’s not.

It’s him. Real and tangible, leaning over me, his hand still working his cock. His mouth covers mine, hot and desperate and demanding. His tongue sweeps my mouth without him pausing, and it takes him seconds to pull the vibrator from my hand.

He enters me, hard and hot. He fills me in the way I dreamed of only minutes ago. His hands grasp my wrists and pin them above my head on the pillow. My nails dig into his hands. I want to hold him. Feel him.

Two hands switches to one, and only one of his hands is holding me. His hand ghosts down my body to my clit, his breath across my ear.

“Did you miss me? Did you need me like I knew you would?”

I dig my nails farther into him.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy you looked fucking your vibrator. I wanted in you the second I saw it.” He pushes inside me. “Now, though? Now I’m inside you. Do you feel the difference? Of me and that vibrator?”

I moan a yes, tilting my hips into him. He drives deeper into me, this feeling so real. His thumb circles my clit, and ripples of pleasure take over my body. They consume me, one by one, until I come. I bite down onto Tyler’s shoulder, squeezing his cock inside me. My name is a growl as he finds his own release and spills inside me.

He releases my hands and I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him to me.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“I came to surprise you.”

“Well, you did that, all right.”

He laughs and pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks at me with tired yet happy eyes. “It’s mutual, babe. I can’t say I was actually expecting you to use your vibrator.”

My lips tug into a small smile. “You should know by now that I’m good at following orders.”

“If I didn’t before, I do now.” He drops a soft kiss to my lips and pulls out of me before walking in the direction of the bathroom.

“How did you know where I’m staying?” I call after him.

He grins, coming out of the bathroom. “When your cousin is the boss of the company your…girlfriend who isn’t really a girlfriend…works with, you can find out anything.” He winks.

My smile grows at his use of “girlfriend who isn’t really a girlfriend.” That’s a pretty good definition of our relationship that isn’t really a relationship—one that’s a comfortable middle ground for us both.

“That figures.” I fake a sigh and stand up. My legs shake, causing my knees to almost give way. I sit back down and grab the cloth from Tyler.

I roll across the bed and lean over to reach my suitcase. After tugging out some underwear, I put it on lying down, all the while with Tyler’s eyes focused on me. I grab a dress and pull it over my head before trying to stand up again.

Thankfully, my legs have returned to their normal state.

“Why are you looking at me?”

Tyler’s lips curve. “Because I can.”

I roll my eyes. “Informative.”

He laughs and buttons his pants. He unzips a duffel bag he must have dropped before he let me know he was here and pulls out a plain, white button-down shirt. He shrugs it on, rolls his sleeves to just below his elbow, then holds out his hand.

“Come on,” he says.

“Come on what?”

“I want to take you somewhere.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know about anything here?”

He steps forward and takes both my hands. “I’ve done a thousand shoots here or hereabout. I know the southern California coastline like I know my dick.”

“Extremely well then.” I bite back a laugh. “Okay then. Let me put some shoes on first.”

I take my hands from his and slide my feet into some flip-flops. Tyler grabs his Ralph Lauren sneakers from the corner, and I wait for him by the door.

He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and I squeal. His body trembles behind me as he laughs into my neck.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Liar.” I reach back to tap his thigh and pull the door open.

He releases me, follows me to the elevator, and pushes the button. He taps the back of my hand with his as we wait. I frown at him, but he’s looking forward, his face expressionless. I tap him back. He does it again. We do this for the twenty seconds it takes for the elevator to get here.

By the time we step in, my straight face is gone and I’m fighting a bout of giggles. My eyes flick to him as we travel down, but he’s still not acknowledging me. Only to knock my hand.

“What are you doing?”

He ignores me and hits my hand again. Oh my god. I whack the back of his hand with my fingers—hard—and walk out of the elevator.

Tyler flicks his wrist, but instead of hitting me, he flattens his palm against mine and links our fingers. I half-smirk and glance at him. The half smirk changes to a full-fledged smile when I see the playful, boyish grin on his face.

“Such a child.” I shake my head.

As if to prove my point, he swings our hands between us. I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder, and he looks at me, his grin widening even further.

“It was a pretty smooth move. Admit it.”

“What? Nudging my hand like we’re in second grade and you’re too shy to just take it?”

“Aw, come on, Liv. You thought I was just pissing you off by hitting your hand. Then bam. I take it and you’re all smiley.”

“I am not smiley!”

He stops us and runs his finger along the curve of my mouth. “If it feels like a smile and it looks like a smile, it’s a smile, bitchypants.”

“Bitchypants? Did you get your brain switched with a second-grader? Are you about to take me to a café for milk and cookies?”

A loud laugh leaves him, and he tugs me onto the boardwalk. “No. I’m just in a good mood. That happens, you know? And sometimes, when I’m in a good mood, I get a little—”

“Idiotic?”

“I was going to choose silly, personally. Idiotic I save for a drunken good mood.”

I can’t help my smile. This is a side to Tyler I’ve never seen. A carefree, playful, mischievous side. It’s endearing and infectious and I like it. A lot.

“Okay.” I lean into him. “Where are we going then?”

“I don’t really know. I thought we could just walk and see where we end up. I figured if we went far enough, we’d end up in Mexico.”

Oh my god.
I cover my hand with my mouth to muffle my giggles. “Honey, if you want to walk to Mexico, you’re going alone.”

He tries for a pout but completely ruins it by laughing. He makes a quick turn and leads us onto the beach. I let go of his hand to pull off my sandals, and no sooner have I straightened up than he links our fingers again.

His hand is warm in mine. I didn’t pay attention to it before, but here, on the beach, in the dark, I’m feeling it acutely. His thumb strokes the back of my hand, his fingers twitch in my hold, and he squeezes ever so slightly with every step we take. I wonder if he realizes that he’s doing it or if it’s subconscious.