Tempting Little Tease (Blackwell-Lyon Book 4) Page 9

  “Do you have a point?”

  “A point? Yes, my friend, I do. Pull that particular stick out of your ass, and who knows what you’ll end up with? Don’t, and you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The wedding is beautiful, but I don’t think either Sam or I really notice. We’re too lost in our own thoughts and fears. I know I am, anyway. Thoughts about Sam. Fear that Cayden will get caught.

  Fear that I’ll never see her again.

  As for Sam, I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I do see her frequently brush her hair back behind the ear with the com link in it. And I see the way her brows furrow, as if she’s worried that Cayden isn’t really sailing along in blissful radio silence, but is shouting for help that she’s not hearing.

  I reach over and take her hand, gratified when she shoots me a quick, nervous smile.

  She keeps her fingers twined with mine for the rest of the ceremony, only releasing me after the newly pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Tarrant walk back down the aisle together, this time accepting hugs and handshakes and congratulations.

  “You looked beautiful,” Sam tells Cherry, wrapping her friend in a hug.

  “You’ll be next,” Cherry says, glancing at me with a grin, and I notice that although Sam blushes, she doesn’t meet my eye.

  I have absolutely no clue how to interpret that.

  And I can’t even ask Cayden, who’s just texted me the all clear. As per the plan, that means he’s heading back to Austin, and Sam and I are left to wait and see if our cobbled-together plan really worked.

  A huge white tent has been erected on the property, complete with a polished wooden floor, a partitioned-off dance area, over a dozen small tables for eating and conversation, the gift and appetizer table, a bandstand, and, of course, a bar.

  We’ve just been through the bar line and as soon as we grab one of the tables, Sam turns to me. “He said it went well?”

  “All done, all good, and he’s on his way home.”

  “Right. Okay.” She fans herself with the souvenir program that’s at each place setting. “I wasn’t nervous before but now I’m a wreck.”

  I take her hand again, then kiss her wrist. “It’ll work. And we’ll know soon. Tonight, right?”

  She nods, then shakes her head. “Probably. I don’t know. Whenever he decides to test it.” She runs her fingers through her hair, the movement making the subtle red highlights shine in the soft tent lighting. “Reg is standing right over there. What if he stays here to the bitter end? He’ll probably just wait and test tomorrow at the office.”

  “Then we’ll know tomorrow,” I say.

  “Right. I know. Sorry. I don’t mean to spazz out.”

  “Spazz all you want. I’ll be right here to hold your hand.”

  She tilts her head as if studying me, her brow furrowing. “Will you?”

  My heart hitches, and the word is out before I can think about it. “Always,” I say. More than that, I mean it.

  “I guess so. That’s what you and Brody promised, right? That one or the other of you would always be there for me.”

  I frown, something in her tone giving me pause. “Well, yes, but—”

  “We don’t have to stop.” She blurts the words out with such force I’m surprised the couple at the table nearest us doesn’t ask what we’re talking about. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I just—I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this. And, well, I’m going to dive in and start talking.”

  I nod, but say nothing, afraid I’ll get her off track.

  “I know we go back to reality tomorrow, and, well, first I want to say thank you. For making my fantasy come true.”

  “Sure,” I say, but I have to force the word out past the giant lump that’s suddenly lodged in my gut. A hard mass of regret and recrimination, and even loss. Because, dammit, I’m already ten steps down this road, and the destination isn’t where I’d hoped to end up.

  “I guess what I want to say is that we don’t have to stop.”

  I wait a beat, then say slowly, “What do you mean?”

  “My project got cancelled. The freelance gig here. So I’m going home. Back to Seattle.”

  Home? Seattle is not Sam’s home.

  I don’t say that, though. Instead, I ask, “When?”

  “Five days.”

  “Five days?” This really isn’t computing. “What about your flip?”

  “Brody’s going to come down and help me finish off what I already started. Then he said he’d manage it if I want to turn it into a rental. I figure that’s a solid plan for the time being, and it’s good for him, too. He’s taking a leave of absence from the company, and I have a feeling his CEO days are numbered.”

  That’s about the only good news I’ve heard so far. “What do you think he’ll do?”

  “No idea. Maybe go back to being a cop? Anyway, the point is that this—” She gestures to the resort. “All of this was a box. Our time here—the things we’ve done—they’ve been in the Fredericksburg box. Limited, I mean. And now … well we can keep on. If you want to. Because it would still be limited. Five more days, just a different location. It would still have to be a secret, but that can be fun, too, right?”

  She bites her lower lip, her pupils moving as she studies me, obviously trying to read my face.

  But I can keep my emotions in check when I want to, and right now, I don’t want to reveal a single, goddamn thing.

  “I mean, if you want to,” she adds lamely. “It’s only—well, you know I’ve fantasized about you forever. And I’ve had a really good time during our pretend engagement.”

  “So have I,” I say sincerely, even as that rock weighs down my gut. “And I’m thrilled I lived up to your expectations.” I pause, not quite believing I’m really going to say it. “But no.”

  “No?”

  “I’m sorry. I just—no.”

  Her mouth forms an O, but she says nothing. Then her lips tighten into something like a smile. “Right. Of course. It’s silly. We had fun. Why risk ruining those memories?”

  I haven’t got a clue what to say. That I want her to stay? That I want to be more than a lingering teenage fantasy? That I want to be the man she wants and not the memory she covets?

  But she’s going home, and I’m tired of spinning my wheels.

  And I don’t know how to say any of that. So I bend over to kiss her forehead, then stand up. “I’m going to take a walk. Text me when he leaves?”

  “Oh.” She takes a deep breath, then nods. “Yeah. Sure. Of course, I will.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I walk with no plan other than trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is the end. But it’s not working. Sam’s gotten under my skin in a way no other woman ever has. It’s only been days, but I can’t imagine her not being in my life. Or in my bed.

  Did she truly only want me for the fantasy? A mental cleansing before she goes back to her life?

  I don’t think so. Everything in her voice—in her touch—suggests something more. Something deeper.

  But I don’t know the truth, and she’s leaving.

  Which means that unless I get my shit together and find out one way or another, I might end up losing the best thing that ever happened to me.

  And since I’m not prepared to let that happen, it’s time to take the leap.

  With a silent prayer, I pull out my phone, then dial Brody’s number.

  He answers on the first ring. “Hey, man, I was just thinking of you. How’s it going?”

  “Actually, I’m in love with your sister.” Nothing like getting straight to the point.

  “Are you?” The boisterous tone is replaced with the even, steady voice of an investigating officer. “And her? Is she in love with you?”

  “That’s what I need to find out. I’m about to throw myself out there to the wolves, and figured I’d start with you.” I clear my throat. “She didn’t say anything about me when you guys last talked,
did she?”

  “Not a word. We only talked about the house. You heard about the move?”

  “Yup.”

  “And that prompted this call?”

  “I don’t want to lose her. Not if there’s a chance. But, dammit, I don’t know if she just wanted a fling with her high school crush or if there’s something more underneath.”

  “Wanted,” he repeats. “That would be past tense.”

  “Are you sure? I seem to recall you getting a D in freshman English.”

  “Ah, hell.” I can practically hear him rubbing the back of his neck. Then I hear him suck in a breath. “Well, I always suspected she had a crush. But Sam holds things close to the vest. If she’s saying she only wanted a fling, maybe she did. But what the hell do I know? You have literally just dumped on me more information about my sister’s sex life than I ever knew or wanted to know.”

  “All I said was that she wanted a fling and that I’ve fallen in love.”

  “Like I said, that first part is more than I need to know. The second part … well, if you’re sure, then I’m happy for you. I’ve only been in love once, and although I’d probably hurt a lot less now if I never had been, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “I know. I get it.” I exhale. “So I’m forgiven?”

  “What, for breaking your promise? Hell no. That’s solid currency for decades between us. But you have my blessing to talk to her. And more than that, I’m rooting for you. When are you going to tell her?”

  “Actually, I was thinking right now.”

  I burst into the suite ready to tell her everything, but before I get a word out, she looks up from where she’s sitting at the small table, her computer open in front of her.

  “We’re on,” she says, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “He’s running the test?” I hurry to her, then pull up a chair so that I can see the screen as well. The code that she gave Cayden hijacks the computer’s camera, turning it on without the indicator light going live. Which means that we’re looking at a split screen. On one side, the main system page that he’s just logged into. On the other, his face—flush with concentration—as he navigates through the demo of the operating system that he’ll be showing his boss tomorrow.

  “Two more screens to go,” Sam whispers, reaching out to grab my hand.

  He clicks to the next screen, and I watch his eyes skim over the display. Another click, and the same quick skim.

  He clicks again, and because I know it’s coming, I’m looking right at Reg’s face when his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open. There’s no sound, but I can practically hear his, “Oh, no. Oh, fuck no,” from across the pool.

  “What if he comes over?” There’s fear in her voice. “He knows it’s me.”

  “Then I’ll handle him. But he won’t. He knows the situation as well as you do. Better. And right now, he’s the only one with anything at stake.”

  I see him mouth, “Bitch,” and for a moment consider going over there and punching the guy. I say nothing, but my thoughts must show on my face, because she pats my hand and says simply, “Down, boy.”

  At that moment, Sam’s phone chirps and a text message flashes simultaneously on her computer.

  Reg: You didn’t have to go to extremes.

  She types back:

  Sam: Yeah. I did.

  Reg: I’m the wrong person for you to cross in this industry. I have a lot of power at Sunspot.

  Sam: Maybe I don’t care about being in this industry.

  There’s no reply, but Reg is hunched over the computer.

  “Is he trying to hack past the wall?”

  Her shoulders rise and fall. “Probably.”

  The phone dings again, and I scan the computer screen, looking for the corresponding text. But there’s nothing there.

  Sam’s smile, however, is wider than I’ve ever seen it.

  “Was that—?”

  “Payment notification,” she says, then grabs up her phone, flips through screens, pauses, then does a fist pump. “Yes!”

  She tosses the phone onto the table, shoves back her chair, and it’s only when she leaps into my arms that I realize I’m already standing.

  Her mouth closes over mine, and I revel in the fast, hard kiss. At least until she gasps, then starts to push back with, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Wait.” I hold her tight, not letting her leave the circle of my arms. “Just hold up a second. I need to say something. The truth is that I don’t want to do some pretend hidden relationship with you. But it’s not because I don’t want you. It’s because I do. I want reality, not pretend. Because, here’s the thing, Sam. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

  She stares at me. One beat, then another in total, ominous silence.

  And then she bursts into tears.

  Shit.

  “It’s okay,” I hurry to say. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. No pressure, but I had to tell you, because—”

  She cuts me off with a shove and a laugh. “No, you freak. These are happy tears.” She flings her arms around me. “Thank you. Thank you for being braver then me. I couldn’t — I thought you didn’t want anything more. When you turned me down at the reception, I thought that was it. You were done. That I was just a favor to Brody topped off with a gift of wish fulfillment for me and a nice little hook-up for you. And I told myself that everything I felt between us was wishful thinking on my part.”

  “It was real,” I say. “It is real. I’ve never felt—oh, fuck it. I don’t want you to go to Seattle, okay? I want to let what’s between us grow, because I think there’s something special here, and I want you to stay here where my friends are and where your brother is. And maybe we can even make that crazy house you’re flipping into something special together.”

  She starts to speak, but my words are still bubbling out.

  “But if your work is back there, then go. Just know that I’m going to follow you.”

  “No—”

  “Yes. I will.”

  She laughs. “I mean, no. I don’t want to go back. I did, but that was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Before I realized that I’m tired of that industry. Before I figured out what I want.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You,” she said, melting my heart.

  “You mean us.”

  She nods, her eyes sparkling with tears. “I love you, too,” she whispers, “I think I always have.”

  Then she rises on her toes as she hooks her arms around my neck. Our lips meet, and I lose myself in a long, slow kiss that tastes a little bit like strawberries, and a lot like the future.

  Epilogue

  Five months later

  “You’re tempting me,” I tell the perfect, naked woman standing in her bedroom—our bedroom as of last Friday.

  Sam turns from her dressing table, holding a pair of lacy pink panties. She’s not wearing a bra, and she crosses her arms over her chest, as if hiding the sight of those perfect tits will put me off at all.

  I stalk toward her, and she laughs as she backs away, but with the table a few inches behind her, there’s really nowhere to go. “Don’t you dare. I just did my make-up, and Brody’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Plenty of time,” I say, pulling her hands away and replacing them with my own.

  Her lips part, and I don’t wait to find out if she’s going to cry out with pleasure or order me to stop so she can finish getting dressed. I close my mouth over hers, twisting her nipples so that she moans against my mouth before gently pulling away.

  “Leo…”

  “Plenty of time,” I repeat as I take her by the waist and lift her up onto the desk-style table, right in front of the padded stool where her bare ass has perched so many times.

  “We can’t,” she says, but she’s leaning back, her arms behind her for balance as she spreads her legs for me, revealing her sweet, bare pussy.

  “That’s right,” I sa
y, as I settle onto the stool, then lazily trail my index finger up the soft skin inside her thigh.

  “Oh…”

  The word, so soft with pleasure, shoots through me. I want to draw this out. To push her to the edge, then throw her on the bed and bury myself inside her.

  But that will have to wait. She’s right—company soon. And right now, all I want to do is make the woman I love shatter.

  With deliberate slowness, I let my mouth follow my finger’s path, using the tip of my tongue to lightly tease until she’s squirming with pleasure and begging me to touch her.

  If we had more time, I’d take all afternoon. As it is, I only have minutes. She’s already wet, and I tease her folds, dipping my finger in and out as I kiss my way to her clit, then suck on that sweet nub as she goes wild, her hips shifting with the rhythm of my thrusts.

  She tastes like heaven and her soft moans are definitely making me even harder. I know she’s close—I can feel the muscles of her core tightening around the fingers that are teasing her so intimately. I slide in deeper, sucking harder, using my tongue to tease her just so as she squirms and gasps and—

  “That’s it, baby. Come for me, Samantha.”

  As if on command, she shatters around me, her cry rivaling the sharp chime of the doorbell.

  “Shit,” she says, her body still convulsing. “That was incredible, but shit, fuck, shit.”

  I laugh, my finger still inside her, teasing the last tremor out of her.

  “Stop. Oh my god, Brody has a key. Leo, stop.”

  I do, and she sighs, then pulls me up to kiss her. “I lied,” she says, closing her knees to trap me between her legs. “Never stop.”

  “Never,” I promise.

  “You’re mine, mister. Forever.”

  “’Til death do us part,” I say. “After all, isn’t Brody taking us out to celebrate our engagement?”

  “Yes,” she says. “And that means you need to go let him in while I get dressed.”

  “I’m a little rumpled,” I say, glancing at my shirt.