Page 13 of Twelve Days of Temptation (Temptation 1)
There was a strain in her voice that put him on high alert. “Are you okay?” She sniffed and he knew instantly that she wasn’t. “What happened, Kate?”
“Nothing,” she said in a defeated, shell-shocked tone.
“I’m coming over.”
She didn’t say no, so he took that as a yes. He hung up, grabbed his coat, and bolted to his car. He was ringing her doorbell twenty minutes later.
When she opened the door her eyes were puffy from crying, and her nose was bright red. There was a shine to her cheeks as if she’d just wiped them dry. He pulled her to his chest, and she didn’t resist. She stood in his embrace, shaking but not crying. He hugged her tighter. For a few minutes she didn’t move, then she let out a sad little sound, wrapped her arms around his waist, and burst into tears. He didn’t know what the hell had happened to her, but whatever it was, he would make it right. Whatever it took.
He lifted her up, carried her into her house, and kicked the door closed behind them. He walked over to her couch and sat down, cradling her in his lap. “Tell me what happened, Kate. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
She hid her face in his chest. “It’s too stupid to explain.”
As she shifted on his lap, his cock sprung to life beneath her delicious little ass. Not now, he chastised his wayward appendage. But it felt so good to hold her. He could smell shampoo and her light scent. He was painfully aware of every single place their bodies touched. Every fucking place. He stroked a hand up and down her back to comfort her, and even that caress had his thoughts going wild. He wanted to rip her shirt off and expose the breasts she so innocently pressed against his chest.
I need serious fucking help.
He shifted her so she was no longer seated directly on his erection. “It’s not stupid if it upsets you. Just say it. Whatever it is. Most things aren’t as bad as they seem in our heads.”
She wiggled again, rubbing his cock with her thigh as she shifted so she could look up at him. Except this. This is fucking torture.
“I received my final divorce papers today. I signed them and sent them back. It’s done.” Tears gave her big blue eyes an added shine. “I knew they were coming, and it’s what I wanted. Why did it hurt so much to sign them?”
Brock let out a long sigh and pulled her against his chest again, tucking her beneath his chin. “Do you still love him?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, how can you love someone when you realize everything you thought you knew about them was a lie?” Her words stabbed through him and for the first time made him question the final outcome of his game with her. As he fought off a mild inner panic, Kate continued, “He said he loved me, but he didn’t. He was a collector of beautiful things, and I think I was simply another item he collected. We barely even had sex. My only job was to look good around his friends. When my mother became ill I saw how little patience he had for anything that wasn’t beautiful.”
Brock continued to rub Kate’s back slowly, telling himself he was nothing like her ex. He’d always cared about Kate. I want to get to know her. I’m willing to talk to her as long as she wants—after I fuck her brains out.
I’m an asshole.
“I’m sorry, Kate.” He knew she thought he was sorry for what she was going through, but he was equally sorry he couldn’t turn off his need for her. He wanted to comfort her—all night long, and in as many ways as their stamina allowed.
See, that’s why I’m an asshole.
She leaned back and looked up at him again, and he groaned as it put her right back on his traitorously swollen cock. “No, I’m sorry. I hardly know you, and I’m blubbering all over you. You don’t want to hear about any of this.”
Strength. Give me strength. “I want to hear about whatever you want to talk about.”
She put a hand up on his cheek. “It’s not fair of me to take advantage of you this way.”
Take advantage. Take any fucking thing you want. Keep wiggling that little ass now and then, and I’ll sit here all fucking day listening to whatever. “I don’t mind.”
“It’s kind of obvious that you like me, Brock.”
Attempting to look cool, Brock raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Unless that’s a flashlight in your pocket.”
Brock covered his face with one hand, groaned, then half smiled at her. “In my defense, you squirm a lot.”
Kate laid a hand on his chest and smiled sadly at him. “I wish I had met you before all of this. Or six months from now. You’re such a n—”
He grabbed her hand. “Don’t say it. Trust me, I’m not as nice as you think I am.”
She held his eyes and nodded. “Yes, you are. You’re everything I should want, but I’m not ready for you. I’m still angry. Angry with Wayne. Angry at myself. Do yourself a favor and don’t trust me right now. I’ll only hurt you.”
“I’m a big boy, Kate. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Kate slid off Brock’s lap. “Yes, I do. You know why? Because I like you. I like you a lot, Brock. And if I’m not honest with you, how does that make me any better than Wayne? I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Brock stood up. “Nobody is perfect, Kate. People make mistakes and forgive each other all the time. It’s called life.”
Kate walked to the door. “I’m sorry, Brock. I wish I could explain this better, but I can’t. Just trust me. You need to stay away from me.”
Brock followed her to the door and looked down at her. “I’ll do that if you do one thing for me.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him nervously. “What?”
“Kiss me. Just once.”
The tip of her tongue flicked across her teeth. “What will that prove?”
“Maybe nothing.” He pulled her hips to his and ground her against his bulging cock. “Just one kiss, Kate.” He bent down and licked her parted lips, teasing them to open for him. “You owe me at least that.”
He buried a hand in the back of her hair and took her mouth boldly, thrusting his tongue deep and circling hers. She placed her hands on his shoulders, holding him to her rather than pushing him away. He had spent so many hours imagining how she’d taste, but the reality was so much better.
He couldn’t get enough. He lifted her and slammed her against the door. He stepped forward as the door slammed against the wall behind her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he ground his pelvis against hers with a rhythm as old as time itself. He shoved a hand down the back of her jeans and grabbed one of her ass cheeks.
He tore his mouth from hers and kissed his way down her neck and to one of her hard and protruding nipples. Right through her clothing and bra, he closed his teeth around her hardened nub and gave it a gentle tug. She gasped, and her hands tightened on his shoulders.
He raised his head. Everything in him wanted to kick the door closed and take her right there on the rug in the hallway. But even in her aroused state, her nose was still pink from her earlier crying, and he knew he could win now but lose in the long run if he pushed her.
He eased her back to the floor and took a deep breath. “Do what you need to do, Kate. I know you’re not in a good place right now. I don’t care. We don’t have to rush, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m not that nice.”
He gave her one final quick kiss and walked out the door. His balls were aching. His head was aching. He was pretty positive that when it came to winning Kate’s heart, he had fucked up his chances as much as any man could.
But that just made him more determined to have her.
He’d never been a quitter.
Chapter Nine
Kate was still a bundle of nerves hours after Brock left. She’d tried to do the right thing. She’d warned him to stay away from her. But he wouldn’t listen. He has no idea what a tangled game he’s entering into.
Her prepaid phone vibrated with an incoming message, but she
ignored it. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch with both of her phones in front of her on the coffee table.
One nice guy.
One possibly psychotic sexual deviant.
The choice should be easy enough.
Why is life so much more fucking complicated than it has to be? What is it Mr. Elf gives me that I need? Do I think I don’t deserve a good man? Am I that cookie cutter stereotypically pathetic?
Or am I just a sex freak myself, and I never knew it. What would a man like Brock think if I told him I have sex every night with a man I’ve never met?
Her phone vibrated again. She finally picked it up and checked the messages on it.
You didn’t text me, Kate. I don’t like it when you disappoint me.
I’m not in a good mood today. Maybe we should talk tomorrow.
Do you think I give a shit about your mood, Kate? Are you naked?
No.
I told you to always be naked when we talk.
You contacted me. I didn’t contact you.
You want to be punished tonight, don’t you, Kate? Do you feel guilty about something? I like it when you feel guilty. Tell me what you did, and I’ll choose the perfect punishment.
I don’t want Brock to be part of our game. I don’t want to lead him on.
Oh, you like him.
No.
Did you fuck him?
No. I wanted to, but I told him to stay away from me instead.
And what did he say?
He said he doesn’t care if I’m fucked up in the head. Or something like that. But he doesn’t know about you.
